dirtyero

[hercarisntyours]

I can't wait till the tfone sequel when megatron helps elita wanting bumblebee to shut up 🥰🥰

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Lae'zel is like a play on the "I'm not other girls" thing, except she's trying SO hard to be like other Gith girls. She's trying to steel her heart and be a perfect soldier in the collective army serving beneath Vlaakith. No will of her own. Just blind servitude alongside the other Gith who are also denying their own individualism.

Rather than gutting the companions right then and there - as any other Githyanki would do - she joins them AND promises them a cure. A cure that was meant to be ONLY for Githyanki warriors. And she doesn't know about the lies or the fact that he cure is a death sentence, but she still extends that olive branch to the group. She'll speak up when she's grouchy and try to project a hard exterior, but she's SO secretly soft.

When you approach Rosymorn, she'll stay on that part of the map if you try to leave. Upon returning, you can make her admit she missed you.

You can make the strong Gith who was raised to pillage, kill, and conquer admit that she missed the player character.

Lae'zel isn't like other Gith Girls.

Her act two scene is trying to progress the romance as though it were between two Gith raised within that culture. It's a fight to prove your worth through your battle prowess, which makes only the best *warriors* worthy of companionship. However, it becomes clear that isn't want Lae'zel wants. If the player loses, and Bae'zel beats the fuck out of them, she becomes distraught because she doesn't WANT to fight her romantic partner.

She wants to mutually protect one another. She wants companionship with her partner. She wants to enjoy the sunrise with them, feel the tickle of the night breeze, see the Tears of Selune chase after the moon across the night sky, she wants to live and she wants to share those experiences with her love. She doesn't WANT to be the stone cold Gith that she was raised to be.

Lae'zel wasn't given any role to do with the eggs, but once the egg is in the party's possession, she's instantly drawn to it. When Xan hatches, she gives him a name to represent that he'll be raised to be free to be himself. He'll have the freedom to choose his own path, whatever that maybe. Xan DOESN'T have to be like the other Gith. He could be a scholar, an artist, a warrior, anything he wishes to be. It's his life and Lae'zel is just happy to see her little Xan be raised with the freedom she didn't realize she craved until she arrived on that silly little planet.

Lae'zel isn't like other Gith girls because no two people are the same, even if raised in the same circumstances and culture. Everyone is an individual, even when they serve a collective or are fighting alongside Allies with the same main goal.

Lae'zel isn't just a nameless, faceless soldier. She isn't interchangeable with other Gith. She isn't like the other Gith girlies.

[leftneb]

alr amateur in-depth analysis time bc I don't think I can really come to any sensible conclusion provided the state of the dash rn

I have a much more refined version of this now! partially changed my mind on the interviews bit and went more into details of the collision. I'd recommend reading that one

(be warned this got very out of hand I really did just want to look at the contact but then things happened)

regular racing

2. max moves off the racing like

I'm assuming this is to prevent lando from taking the inside line. makes sense so far

3. lando takes the outside (normal racing line as you can see by the tyre marks)

4. max suddenly veers back onto the racing line

this is likely an attempt in blocking lando from overtaking. but at this point they were side-by-side, which means max is just driving into him

the only place for lando to go at this time is off the track

5. they make contact

IMO this was on max, but it definitely wasn't "on purpose" (max also wouldn't try to initiate contact considering it would ruin his own race)

as far as I know this is fairly characteristic of max, he has a sort of "kill or be killed" attitude on track, which usually translates to "either YOU move or we're BOTH crashing out"

either of them could have moved to avoid collision, but they didn't, because they're racing drivers, obviously they're not going to move and give up a win

max basically drove into lando here, absolutely did NOT leave the space

as for the other overtakes/attempts

max already stated that their mistakes (the slow pitstop + his lockup) cost them a lot, these allowed lando to get in a fighting position in the first place

lando was natually going to try and make the most of that opportunity, though maybe a bit too aggressively at times

lando sets up for the overtake, gets blocked

pretty much standard procedure, nothing to talk about here

2. lando overtakes max but locks up in the process and runs wide

you could definitely argue that this was just a bit too aggressive, or that lando was going in over his head maybe

to me the whole "lando doesn't have experience fighting for a win and he makes mistakes because of it" feels a bit like a cheapskate but there's truth to it

lockups happen, especially under pressure (and even more when he's aware he has to run a perfect race in order to beat max)

Lando then says on his team radio:

"he can't keep moving after I've moved it's just dangerous. we're gonna have a big shunt. he forced me to go wide and lock up"

looking at it from lando's perspective I can see what he means here

lando took the inside line and they were practically wheel-to-wheel by the time max started turning, seeing that max is taking a line that would lead them to a collision he panics and locks up

like just imagine you're lando. you've taken the inside line, there is no space to your left, so you're expecting max to leave you a gap. instead he starts turning in on you. you are going to try preventing contact so you break and swerve, you lock up, the only way forward is off the track

from max's perspective I can only imagine this happening if lando was out of his view. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt here

also I think "he can't keep moving after I move" (and the entire radio message) pretty much foreshadows the contact later on

3. lando takes the inside line, max leaves him space by going off the track

we are going car racing. lando is being aggressive here (though I wouldn't go so far as to call it unreasonable) max doesn't break hard but leaves him the space, the only place he can go is off track

you could definitely phrase this as "lando forced max off track"

but you could also argue that "max broke track limits to maintain his position" he COULD technically have backed off, but again, would have been very uncharacteristic of him

post-race statements

I am biased toward lando (and I really hope that didn't affect my analysis too much) but I do think the whole "apologize or we're not friends anymore" sentiment is a bit. side eye.

as much as max was being aggressive at times, so was lando, they both want to win, obviously they're going to be aggressive

it was a hard race, it was a GOOD race, they both made mistakes but in the end it was max who denied them both the win, which is an unfortunate consequence of, yk, racing

generally I think approaching these things objectively is always the most sensible. however, we have to acklowledge that we're talking about some of the most competitive people this planet. they both immediately went to blame the other, they always do

lando implying that he wants to basically break up with max because of this is insane. but so is max refusing to acknowledge that the collision might possibly have been his fault

as a viewer I want to just sit here. eat my popcorn. and enjoy the race, prefferably WITHOUT the entire community going to war about it without any respect for other people. like I'm not saying there should always be peace and love, there is NEVER going to be a race like this without drama but for the love of god don't ACTUALLY want to kill eachother

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash via IG

[overly-verbose]

Omw to a verrrry important exam rn, pls send thoughts prayers and good vibes my way 'cause I did nOt sleep well 💀

(also obviously if it goes well I'll have an easier time actually focusing on finishing Part 8 so uh there's the bribe lol

[thirium--310]

Now that I finally have a dbh tumblr I can share how way back, maybe in like 2020 or something, I posted about Simon and Markus on my instagram story and some (cishet) guy I had been friends with for a while replied to it.

I was worried he'd be homophobic about it or something, but instead he was pissed because, and I quote:

"Markus is way out of Simons league"

[billdenbrough]

fundamentally disinterested in the recurring discourse about kevin's drinking that aims to a) make it his Specific Problem To Focus On And Overcome when it is a crutch and coping mechanism to get him through a Much Bigger Problem (emotional fallout he can't square with by himself, culture shock, trauma, loss of his extremely wildly co-dependent relationship w riko, losing the structure of the nest, mourning a future he was meant to have, processing a grave injustice, anger and fear and desperate grief, all of which is his Actual Specific Fox Problem) while he builds himself back up, and b) thinks that even if it is a problem (more on that later), it's the foxes' problem to deal with.

like. it's just not.

yeah, he doesn't drink until he meets them. they gave him that habit, and in traditional terms, they're (the monsters specifically) a 'bad influence'. but these are the foxes. this is kevin day, son of exy, whose meteor is crashing spectacularly through no fault of his own. there are no traditional terms to be found here. the framework for it literally doesn't exist. neil comes into the foxes with more conventional expectations—appalled at the athletes' substance use, his horror at matt's trip to columbia, his steadfast and early repeated stance that none of the foxes should let andrew treat them the way he does, and certainly not nicky—and tends to engage with them less as the series goes on and he folds himself into the foxes. the thing about the foxes is that they've all been in pits deeper than they are tall. and some of them got a helping hand on the way—erik, andrew's extreme intervention methods, stephanie walker—and wymack was always waiting for them on the other side, ready to throw down a rope, but all the foxes dragged themselves out of their own holes. often not alone, often not without assistance, but at the end of the day, they have to do it.

there's that line neil has about aaron in that scene that got deleted when the timeline shifted around, when he thinks about how aaron got this far in life on his own, surviving on willpower and sheer desperation. that applies to aaron in a way that's a little more acute than some of the rest of them—boy who doesn't let the foxes in bc of andrew, boy who doesn't let nicky in bc he doesn't know how, boy made of flinching and seeking an escape and grieving the one who hurt him—but is broadly true for the foxes en masse.

this isn't to say the foxes can't help each other, but it's not their job. it just isn't. they'll keep kevin alive, keep him safe, keep him flanked and contained within their ranks. they'll fight tooth and nail in this battle with him, fight to get him to that championship game, fight to get that trophy in his hands. but that's all they've agreed to. that's all they're responsible for, in this covenant they've made with him. he says they can make this happen, and they're going to get him to that final game, but it's up to him what state he's in when he gets there.

like. they're foxes. they've been triaging their whole lives. they hate each other and they hate everyone else more. they're the kids with their backs up against the wall. half of them are addicts. i don't think kevin is comparable, personally; he's getting through a horrific situation with a coping mechanism. that's not the same thing as battling yourself to stop using. but that's not really the point of this. what i'm getting at here is that to the foxes, it's easy math: kevin who can lean on vodka and andrew and wymack and the foxes to stay upright when he's not ready to stand on his own two feet is still a kevin who is standing. a kevin with one less piece of scaffolding to lean on is a kevin who falls over, a kevin at risk of complete collapse, a kevin one phone call away from running back to the master, a kevin one crucial loss away from not ever making it back to himself at all. they're triaging. this is low on the totem pole of things they have the room to care about. they very much have bigger problems, both individually and even just kevin-related. if alcohol makes seeing the boy he knew best in the world and moved in tandem with his whole life and who destroyed their entire legacy and his entire life in one move — if alcohol makes facing that boy easier to stomach, then, fuck, why would they take that away? they're foxes. they've all got their demons. this is what kevin needs this year and a half to let him face his, that's all. they can understand that. it doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it keeps him in the fight. that's the priority.

i think there's absolutely space to explore this in fic and art and fandom in a way that maybe does explore it as a Problem, both that it's an active problem for kevin & that it's something to explore other foxes helping him with (there's a t&n fic that i've been gnawing at the bit to read for months that seems poised to explore this premise, and that's super up my alley)! i just think we're in different territory when we're talking about the series—and its characters and dynamics—in a conversational rather than transformational way, and end up talking about this like the foxes are responsible for kevin's choices. i love kevin day. i read these back at the start of 2015 & he's so dear to me that loving him was the blueprint for how i feel abt kageyama. but it's been pretty weird to see how the conversation has been translating Loving Kevin Day into... thinking the foxes are doing wrong by him with respect to this in actual canon. like that's just not how it operates there

[markantonys]

what really gets me is that gawyn deciding to go 1v1 with demandred is hailed as the stupidest decision of the series, and yet, he was the first one to try it. meanwhile, galad and lan try the EXACT SAME THING while KNOWING THAT IT DIDN'T WORK (and knowing that it didn't work TWICE in lan's case), and nobody calls THEM idiots for it? you're joking

[eskawrites]

i sat down to write and, well, i, um. tenlark.

-

It takes Moss a while to speak with them again.

There are the initial conversations, of course. The way she sobbed out apologies as Tenar took her into her arms and hugged her fiercely. The confessions that came from a bed in the ward as healers and mages took turns examining her, making sure both her body and her mind would remain free of infection.

But then there was silence. Her entire being muted as she trudged through the castle halls with them, going through the motions, the now-routine agenda that followed a war. Check in with the staff at the ward. Rebuild the cobbled streets and castle walls that were torn down in the attack. Organize aid to the outer villages, open halls to house and feed the citizens whose livelihoods became collateral damage. Meetings and orders and days upon days spent lending a helping hand.

Except people shied away from Moss’s help. Most wouldn’t even approach her unless she was standing beside the rest of them. So she stood silently in the background, head bowed, helping Lark and Tenar and Arren and Ged so they could help the others. And at the end of each day, she slinks off alone, shoulders hunched as she drifts off into the shadows of the castle.

But the last time Lark left her alone for too long, she’d been taken from them. So she follows Moss, pesters her with her near-constant presence and her weak attempts at lightening the mood. It doesn’t matter. Moss knows why she lingers, and so she lets her stay. They still don’t speak, but they spend the long hours of the night lying on blankets they’ve piled in front of the hearth. Lark listens to Moss’s breathing and watches the glow of the fire dance across the ceiling, pretending like she’s looking up at a canopy of leaves and a starry sky, as if everything was that simple again.

-

Ged is stressed.

It’s not unusual for him. He deals with nerves by burying himself in the library, foregoing sleep and food and drink in favor of research. So when the mages start to whisper of him staying at his desk for days on end, no one is particularly surprised.

What’s surprising is the anger.

“I’m not angry,” he says when Lark gives him a questioning look after he slams a tome onto the table they’ve been sitting at.

“Call it what you want, Ged, but that,” she gestures to his face—the furrow in his brow, the shadows beneath his eyes, the clench of his jaw that looks so out of place on him, “is not the look of a kid who is at peace.”

“I’m not a kid,” he snaps.

“Right. And definitely not angry, either.”

“You don’t get to patronize me, Lark. After everything else, don’t sit there and act like I have no right to be—and definitely don’t act like I’m some dumb kid who doesn’t—just don’t, okay?”

Lark bites her cheek, hard. Ged isn’t looking at her. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns away, giving her a moment to swallow the heated retort that springs to mind first. She breathes instead.

Ged isn’t angry. He gets it from Arren, she knows, but even Arren has his moods.

Maybe Ged is simply overdue.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” she says. She aims for gentle, but exhaustion seeps into her tone instead. It’s better than something mean, at least. “And you’ve never been a dumb kid. We both know that.”

“No, I’m not. But all of you act like—like I’m just here to do everything, to handle everything. Like I can just help save the day and move on like none of it happened!”

She frowns. “No one expects that, Ged.”

“Don’t you? Because you—and after everything, you all just keep—I saw you die, Lark, do you realize that? I watched you get thrown from that tower, and I thought you were dead.”

“That was years ago—”

“And this time—Tenar, she just—you weren’t there when she was fighting Vecna. None of you were, I had to protect her, and she just kept putting herself in danger, willingly—”

“Ged—”

“She was trying to destroy herself!” He spins around, finally facing her. “Do you even know what that felt like? She would have killed herself to stop him, and I had to sit there and let her while also trying to keep her alive! And I didn’t know if you and Arren had found Moss, and I didn’t know if we could get her back even if you found her, and I didn’t know if we would win or what would happen if I did let Tenar die and—and—”

He cuts off in a sob as Lark pulls him close. She hugs him tight, keeping him upright as he trembles against her.

-

“I’m tired, Lark,” Arren whispers late one night, sitting out on the balcony of his room and staring up at the sky.

Me too, she doesn’t say. She sighs and scoots closer, offering her shoulder for him to slump against. He does, like she knew he would. She lifts her hand and runs her fingers through his hair.

“We’re getting through it,” she says. “It’s hard, and it hurts, but we’ll make it.”

“Since when did you become the optimist?” His voice shakes, and she wraps her arms fully around him, squeezing him gently and letting him know it’s okay to let go, with her.

But she doesn’t answer his question. She’s not, really. It’s just that…someone has to be.

-

“Lark.”

Lark sits up a little taller at the sound of Tenar’s voice. Even in the dark, even calling so gently, all the edge softened by the shadows cast by the lanterns lighting the armory, it compels her to attention. But when she turns, Tenar’s expression is just as soft, bidding her to relax again.

“Your Highness,” Lark says anyway. Tenar’s smile turns wry.

“Don’t do that,” she says as she crosses the room. She comes up behind Lark, placing her hands on her shoulders and peering over her head at the arrows scattered across the table. “You give our fletcher a run for his money.”

Lark snorts. “Hardly. My shoddy, self-taught work is only passable at the best of times.”

Tenar reaches around her and picks one of the arrows up. She twists it between her fingers, inspecting the fletching. It’s uniform enough—Lark can admit that much; she’s never made an arrow that won’t fly true—but it’s far from pretty work.

“I’d say it’s impressive, given that you haven’t slept in a day and a half.”

“Have you hired someone to tail me, Princess?”

Tenar lifts her free hand to Lark’s hair and gives it a gentle tug. Lark huffs, not sure if it’s a sigh or a laugh.

“Sorry,” she says anyway. Tenar hums and shifts her hand to run her fingers gently through Lark’s hair.

“To answer your question, no. It would be a waste of gold—I pay too much attention to you myself.”

It makes her cheeks flush. Years of falling for Tenar, and weeks, now, of being caught by her, and she still doesn’t know what to do with this affection.

Tenar sets the arrow back down and brings her other hand to her hair. Lark closes her eyes and tilts her head back into the touch. The sigh is involuntary, and she would be embarrassed if Tenar’s soft laugh didn’t follow it.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Tenar whispers.

“Of course.”

“No,” she says gently. “Not of course. Only if it pleases you.”

“Whatever you want of me, I will do it.”

“Oh, I know.”

She feels lips against her hairline, and then Tenar is moving. Lark opens her eyes to see her walking around her chair and hopping up onto the table. She reaches out, and Lark gives her her hand without hesitation.

“You do whatever any of us ask, without hesitation.” Tenar cradles Lark’s hand in hers, running her fingers over her palm. Lark shivers. “You took on the entire kingdom without question, and you hadn’t even realized that’s what I was asking.”

“I gave you an earful when you woke.”

“You did, but it was mostly for show.” Tenar’s smile turns mischievous for just a second before she softens again. “When’s the last time you let yourself rest, Lark?”

Lark feels bare under her gaze. She swallows. “You already know, apparently. A day and a half? Perhaps a little longer?”

Tenar shakes her head. “No. I mean, when is the last time you let one of us carry you?”

She drops her gaze. “I’m dealing with it, the same as everyone else.”

“You don’t have to handle it all.” She rubs her thumb across Lark’s palm, firm and soothing. “You’ve carried so much responsibility this entire time, and we needed it. But you can let it go now.”

“And give it to you?” Lark asks. “You’ve dealt with just as much. Don’t scold me for being stubborn and then do the same thing yourself.”

“Then let me carry it with you,” Tenar says softly. “And carry mine with me. We’re in this together, Lark. We always have been.”

Lark sighs. She slumps forward in her chair. Tenar runs her hand over her hair again.

“Is this the favor?” she asks. Tenar’s nails scratch gently at her scalp.

“No. Not tonight, at least. Tonight, I have a more short-term goal.”

 “Oh?” She sits up again to look at her.

“Spend the night with me.”

Lark gives a soft, short laugh. “How is that a favor?”

“Make no mistake, I’m asking for my own benefit here, perhaps even more so than yours. I���I’ve missed you these past few weeks, Lark.” She lets go of Lark’s hand long enough to tuck a piece of hair behind her ears, shy and uncertain in a way Lark forgets still exists, sometimes. “You know, the night before we lost Moss, I…I had been looking for you.”

“Why?” Lark breathes.

“Because…” She smiles down at their hands, the tips of her ears turning pink. “Because of this.”

It shatters her. It steals her breath away. It makes her want to cry, stupidly. Lark leans forward to take Tenar’s hands in her own.

“Tenar…”

“I fear, sometimes, that we can still lose everything. And I fear it more when I’m lying awake and wishing you were there with me.” She looks up again. “So please, Lark, come to bed. Let me feel safer with you there. And let me—” She brings their hands to her lips, kissing Lark’s knuckles, “let me make you feel safe, too.”

Her eyes sting, and she knows Tenar sees it. She swallows hard and says, “I don’t want to burden you.”

“What if I want your burden?”

Lark has no clue what she’s supposed to say to that, so she doesn’t. Tenar doesn’t make her. She just slides off the table, tugging Lark’s hands to pull her up and along.

Lark doesn’t acknowledge the walk through the castle. She doesn’t pay much attention to anything but Tenar as she leads them to her room, and then to her bed, and then under the covers and into her arms. It’s only there, wrapped in the warmth of her embrace, that Lark realizes how cold she was. She shivers, and Tenar holds her tightly, fiercely.

“I worry,” Lark whispers into the dark, even as she brings her arms up to wrap around Tenar. “I worry that it will never be over. That we’ll never truly have peace.”

“I do, too,” Tenar breathes.

“How do you hold on, then? Why do we keep trying when—when—”

“Hey,” she breathes, bringing her hand up to cup Lark’s cheek, cutting her off.

Lark looks at her, feeling loss and fear and despair echo in the meager space between them. But then Tenar leans forward, and it melts away, all of it, at the first brush of their lips. The tightness in her chest loosens, and she lets it spread through her. Lets herself unravel, for a moment, in Tenar’s arms.

“This,” Tenar says when they part. She presses her forehead to Lark’s. “Because of this.”

Lark closes her eyes. She can’t keep the tears back this time—especially not when Tenar brushes them away, kisses her cheeks and her brow and the tip of her nose. But what she can do is hold on. What she can do is nod, even as she cries. What she can do—what she hasn’t been able to do since the night she found Tenar dying on that balcony—is believe, finally, that they’ll be okay.

[guarshroom]

I can be normal about Random Crits in TF2.

[bumblingbabooshka]

One of the best Voyager scenes to indicate Tuvok & Neelix's dynamic and how I think Tuvok is just as if not more 'annoying'(positive) than Neelix is when Neelix pours Tuvok a fresh squeezed glass of a fruit juice blend and Tuvok's like (paraphrased) "I don't want to drink this." and Neelix is like "Can you please try it?" and Tuvok's like "I don't want to, you're really bad at this sort of thing. It's going to taste bad." and Neelix says that Ensign XYZ said she LOVED it, she even had a second glass! And Tuvok says Ensign XYZ could drink poison without a second thought and Neelix is like "Tuvok could you please just TRY it? Just try a little SIP of it PLEASE??" and Tuvok sighs and rolls his eyes and sniffs it before taking a sip and it turns out he loves it. Turns out it tasted good actually. And then after all that Neelix tries to talk to him over eggs (which he's again cooking fresh for him) and Tuvok tells him he doesn't wanna hear "the life history of his breakfast." Absolutely insufferable this man I would have burned his eggs on PURPOSE!!!!

[shadyhouse]

i keep getting rejected from job applications and i have no idea what im doing wrong. i wish they would just tell you WHY you're getting rejected and ways to improve. its a guessing game that ends up making me feel even more worthless than i felt before

[kingprinceleo]

Oh fuck me fuckme fuck me

[cinnabundolly12]

Sometimes you just get forgotten too smh

Silly lil guy c:

I have words for sun wukong tho >_>

[savage-rhi]

💙

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.