#Mah Posts

[tristala]

All I can say is my heart is shattered and I am so afraid yet so ready for the final Act.

[aroihkin]

Everything got signed and notarized today, my house is miiiiine!

My big goal was to be paying on a house by 40, I turn 40 this cinco de mayo. I sure snuck right under that line.

[mortysmith]

davekat special

[sweeneydino]

It is my birthday my dudes 🎂

[kraftykelpie]

Rebellion era Cody, how I visualized him during his bounty hunting days, before and during being with Obi-Wan(based off the fic series called "codywan on tatooine" by Serie11)

Edit: ao3 author is here! Credit where credit is due @oathkeeperoxas

[siomaoart]

1000 years hasn't been kind to his eyesight

[chibijinebra]

Seven Five Deadly Sins

Bonus:

[the-marshals-wife]

Same, girl. Same.

[stardustsunsprites]

a boy and his best friend

[tristala]

Honestly, hearing snippets of the Transformers Prime soundtrack in Transformers One brought tears to my eyes.

Brian Tyler you magnificent bastard.

[aroihkin]

When A Narcissist Dies: The Disturbing Reality of Dying Narcissists

So the other day I replied to a screenshot of an “anon” ask that was trying to guilt me for not publicly reacting to someone named Ardeth dying.

Ardeth was one of the people, and the main person involved, in labor trafficking me for 8 years. They had been my best friend for years before that, but as soon as they got me to move in with them, they started cutting me off from all outside friends and help, and then took their mask off. I was at their beck and call 24/7, never allowed to sleep for more than 4 hours, did every bit of labor in the house for three people, eight cats, and a giant dog, and was constantly threatened with being thrown out on the street over the smallest and stupidest things. (Seriously, one time I was ‘kicked out’ because I’d laughed at an episode of Archer in my bedroom. Amazing.)

Ardeth flew off the handle at every perceived slight, IRL and online. They even flew off the handle if they didn’t think I was defending them sufficiently hard from slights by other people. They’d throw things at both myself and their disabled S/O, threaten that if they could get out of bed they’d beat whichever of us made them mad at that moment, threaten to just die (funny now, not so much when I cared about them), the whole nine yards!

I got away from them some years ago, and moved in with the ex roommates I often call “the children” on here. (They’ve since claimed to have only been friends with me out of pity, very cool and normal of them and not at all childlike!)

Anyway, while I lived with them they gleefully experimented on my health (and got caught once in a while), and have since bragged about it. They tried to con me into giving them my car for free after they knew they were going to leave but hadn’t told me yet, and for years they made happy use of my stuff and my skills.

When they left, they left every speck of trash and all their things behind in the house, doubling “my” stuff after crying ceaselessly to strangers behind my back about how hard it was living with a hoarder. Never said shit to me IRL before saying they were moving out, btw. Cool!

I took this video in case there was legal trouble later with the landlord or whatever, and kept it to myself. But hell with it, enjoy!

(I didn’t even ask them to clean out their shit and trash, they offered and volunteered and said right up to the end that they were going to do that. Whatever, obviously just a final ploy? And what a weird one at that? They stayed as Friendly As Could Be while here in person, probably so I’d keep giving them rides to things, like to pick up their new van. Whatever, I guess I’m fucking terrifying or something.)

Anyway, they fucked off in September 2017. Seven years ago, keep that in mind, because they and their buddies have dropped in on my tumblr fairly regularly ever since then, for some reason. I usually just roll my eyes and delete their messages, because, you know, some of us have other shit going on in our lives and they don’t live rent free in my head like I apparently live in theirs.

Around March, after Ardeth died, one of them dropped into my askbox on here to tell me. K. Already knew, already processed, didn’t care to react in public, delete!

Then the other day, the ask I replied to trying to... IDK, score some kind of moral points or something? because I hadn’t chatted about it in public and thus didn’t care?

But here’s the funny thing, this means they had to go scouring through seven or eight months of my fuckin tumblr to see if I’d ever replied or talked about it. Seven years after they moved out. What the fuck lmaaaaaaaaao

Ultimately, they’re right, I don’t care. And just as I said there, I’ll care even less when it’s them.

And I fully mean that, because I won’t even know? Probably? Like, I still had some contacts in common with Ardeth, but I don’t think I do with the children, and I don’t spare them a thought 99.9% of the time except on labor day (anniversary of my starting to live on my own, fuck yeah!) and sometimes when I’m doing something they’d hate, like naming a car. And then I have myself a little giggle. Imagine when I name my fuckin house! It’s going to be like an inside joke with myself by default, and I love that for me.

...Also, no, talking about that last ask a few days later doesn’t really count. This is me being amazed and amused at them scouring months of my tumblr looking for... IDK, anything. Seven years later. Fucking hilarious TBH.

And yeah, I know it’s them or their pals, because while they think they are VERY clever, no one else who knew Ardeth and myself would call them by their RP character name from one MMO, and feel the need to go ‘anon’ in my inbox. But dumb children are gonna be dumb children forever, I guess.

Enjoy shitting fire out of sheer rage, kiddos. I’ve shut off anons since it’s just donation requests and you lot as of late, but feel free to make lots of sock puppet accounts for me to laugh at and block cuz ya’all’re that mad and sad. 💕

Seven years of stalking, man. Yeah, I was the worst. You can tell I'm just awful, out here living my life, paying on my house, racking up raises at work, and not going out looking for ex buddies to stalk and harass. Truly diabolical of me.

Oh! While I’m at it, here’s exactly 1 year later in that same house, because clearly I was the problem and thus must have still been living in filth, right? Right.

like, lmao lol rofl okay

[hunnicute]

I've been playing Disco Elysium lately and I couldn't get the idea of seeing BJ's thoughts in HDB style...

[cocomoraine]

i just have to write this insane driven thoughts before i forget them all again:

Going back to the idea that a few years after we see the end of the film/book, as Pope Innocentius settled nicely in his role as pope, Thomas Lawrence, age coming to get up to him, quietly asks Vincent Benítez to resign. And Vincent, gentle and loving, accepts. Thomas retires into a quiet order, far away from the Vatican. They still keep in touch through letters, and phone calls, but the longing, and the gaping hole left by each of them on one another throbs every now and then.

(and because I am a fan of making my angst thoughts everyone's problem): Thomas, after almost a decade, quietly passes away, his last breath dedicated to softly calling out Vincent’s name. The pope, his secretary of state, his personal entourage (raymond o'malley), flew all the way to where Thomas will be buried. Press reports that they never seen the pope look as tired even with already nearly fifteen years under his papacy. Vincent kneels on Thomas's tombstone, and prays harder after a while. He prays for strength to face what could be the hardest years ahead for him. Aldo quietly looks up to the heavens, asking for guidance on how to move through the rest of his days, without his dear friend by his side.

Pope Innocentius continue onto his papacy, more years ahead in the future, but there is a shadow looming over the man, a certain sadness that renders his once youthful smiles turns into shadows of his past self. Aldo and Raymond doesn't know, and accepted that the Holy Father will never be able to get out of that shadow. Despite it all, Vincent performed excellently and kindly as Pope, until his last days.

Private records, and quiet testimonies from his secretary of state, and personal secretary, reveal that the pope died quietly and peacefully, with a serene smile on his face. Aldo, with knees already aching with age, and heavy heart, organizes the conclave.

Vincent, in his last moments, embraced death like a welcome respite, and when he saw his beloved dean, the man who welcomed him with open arms, accepted who he is, standing a few feet away, small smile in place. And when Thomas reaches his hand out to him, Vincent is more than happy to accept. It was the first time since Thomas went away that Vincent can finally breathe easy. He didn't realize until that moment that he was holding some part of himself back.

In that moment, Vincent can finally shed the white papal robes, remove being Innocentius. Thomas can finally let go of the Curia, his fears, his resentments, and weight. In that space and time, they're finally themselves, Vincent and Thomas, two men who answered each other's prayers, but didn't had the time.

Now, they all have the time in the world.

[ekikosama]

Le bracken

[siomaoart]

when we first met (pt. 3)

first part is on my twitter! (X)

[serpentface]

A typical example of a kulimane hunting dog, a prized animal in Imperial Wardin. They represent the most positive feelings towards dogs in this cultural sphere, an animal that otherwise has an often ambiguous or even disdained status.

Kulimane are the 'hybrid' offspring of domesticated sighthound breeds and the kuliku (colloquially called 'salt wolves'). Kuliku are not actual wolves, but rather the feral descendants of VERY ancient domesticated dogs that have been living wild for millennia in grassland, savannahs, and semi-desert, and are fully functional and efficient predators. Kuliku have slender builds, huge lungs, and long legs, and use bursts of tremendous speed to chase down prey. They mostly take small game, like rabbits, hares, birds, and hippegalga, though pairs are capable of bringing down mid-sized ungulates. They do not readily mate with fully domesticated dogs, but can be encouraged to do so in captivity, thus producing the kulimane.

The production of kulimane was introduced by the third Burri empire and has been fully adopted into contemporary Imperial Wardin. Kulimane are commonly seen as the best and most ideal of hunting dogs, combining the speed, power, and heat resistance and predatory instincts of their wild parents, and the loyalty and tameness, and other bred-in qualities of their sighthound parents. In practice, most Kulimane used in hunting will have been the product of several generations of breeding to produce an ideal animal (initial 'hybrid' generations are often still too wild). Their appearance can vary wildly, but the ideal form for a kulimane is to have a domestic-type coat (fully solid colors are preferred, but rare) and to retain the pointed ears and black tail tip of their wild ancestors.

Most kulimane are independent, intelligent animals that will form close and protective bonds with their handlers, but will be shy and wary of strangers. They usually retain strong territorial instincts from their wild ancestors, and can double as excellent guard dogs. Their disposition towards other dogs can vary- a well socialized kulimane can usually be introduced to new dogs with few issues, but some have striking tendencies to aggression towards strange dogs, and are often muzzled in public. Most are kept in same-sex sibling pairs, and away from unfamiliar or unrelated dogs. They are rarely outright cuddly, often preferring to sit at a distance than to sit on one's lap, but are appreciative of praise and affection from their owners.

Well trained kulimane make for truly excellent sighthounds. They can quickly adapt to changing situations in the field with little to no input from handlers, and quickly and instinctively dispatch most small prey. Their high prey drives Can be a problem for owners. They are frequently known to kill livestock and sacrificial stock, and have a tendency towards surplus killing. You don't want a kulimane to get in with your poultry.

Good kulimane stock is very difficult to produce and takes several generations of breeding, and the animals can be very costly to maintain and keep in good hunting conditions. As such they are VERY expensive animals, and function as status symbols. Sighthounds in of themselves have associations with wealth, and kulimane are specifically associated with royalty and the social elite. They represent the most venerated and beloved end of a very, very wide spectrum of cultural opinions towards dogs in the Imperial Wardi sphere.

The status of dogs in the cultural schema mostly depends on their perceived role. Working dogs tend to have positive cultural connotations- guard dogs and especially hunting dogs are seen as noble animals and symbols of loyalty, and herding and livestock guardian dogs are of great practical value in the rural sphere. Keeping dogs for pure companionship is fairly uncommon, though there are a few established companion breeds in the region. The practice of raising livestock dog breeds has decreased or become obsolete in parts of the region, largely due to Burri influence (which regards the meat of predators and scavengers as wholly unsuitable for consumption), but meat specific breeds like the salutachin are still valued in the city-state of Wardin as providers of an excellent, delicacy meat. The commonality between all valued dogs in Imperial Wardin is their utility, well-established roles, and sharp distinction from feral dogs.

Feral dogs are a fact of life around most settlements. Imperial Wardi cultural outlooks on them tend to be highly negative, characterizing these as uniquely greedy, cowardly, lowly pest animals at best and depraved corpse eaters at worst. Exact attitudes vary throughout the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere, but one near-ubiquitous element is regarding the excrement of feral dogs (and corpses of feral dogs) as potent sources of spiritual pollution that should never be touched with bare skin, and should ideally be removed and buried in barren ground (or their polluting influence should at least be mitigated with a blessing of the tainted location). Superstition holds that stepping in the feces of feral dogs can inflict curses, and the word for 'dogshit' is one of the most insulting terms available in the language.

Hatred of feral dogs is particularly acute in the city-state of Godsmouth. The core city experienced a collective cultural trauma as a result of a siege during the formation of the Wardi empire, in which civilians starved en-masse and descriptions of bodies being eaten in the streets by feral dogs (which were, in turn, eaten by starving civilians) dominate historical records of the event. Feral dogs are by and large hated in this part of the region and seen as outright vile animals and acute sources of spiritual pollution via their very presence. They are actively culled on a routine basis. The outskirts of the city of Godsmouth and some of the city-state's towns have unique practices of allowing semi-tame hyenas free movement through settlements, where they fulfill the dogs' function as refuse cleaners and keep dog populations in check.

While the keeping of feral dogs is generally frowned upon throughout the region, individuals caring for their local feral populations or adopting feral puppies is not unknown, and the distinction between feral and kept dogs (and stigma towards the former) is MUCH less pronounced in many rural communities, where semi-feral dogs may be valued as likable or useful village animals.

No dog breeds are standardized (or even technically 'breeds' in any modern sense), but there is usually great effort to keep working, livestock, and companion dog stocks wholly separate from feral dogs. The word that roughly means ‘mutt’ in this language does not refer to mixed dog breeds as a whole (or even crosses between different types of working dog), but specifically crosses between kept breeds and feral dogs, which is generally regarded as unfavorable (though not uncommon, both due to inevitability in a world without spaying, and practicality- these crosses may produce perfectly good working or companion dogs, and introduction of feral stock reduces inbreeding).

The dog is one of the constellations in the Wardi zodiac, found at the heel of the Hunter constellation and variously interpreted as either being a noble hunting dog trailing its master, or a lowly scavenger looking for scraps. The latter characterization tends to win out in terms of the characterization of its associated birthsign. Being born under the sign of the dog is mostly regarded as inauspicious, and a potential indication of a cowardly, stupid, lustful, and greedy character (though some positive qualities are ascribed, chiefly loyalty).

‘Chinops’ (literally ‘dog-born’) refers neutrally to the dog birth sign, while ‘chinmachen’ (‘dog-faced’) is an epithet given to those considered to have the associated personality traits, which is rarely anything BUT an insult. (These also spawn the purely derogatory phrases of ‘chisnops’, ‘chismachen’, and ‘chismache’, which have functional meanings closest to ‘son of a bitch’ ‘bitch/slut’ and ‘cunt’ respectively)