#money may be spent........

[favouritedave]

jrwi posting rn but I never actually finished apotheosis. like. got half way through the final episode and had to turn it off cause I was super distracted + eepy from work and I just. never picked up the end of it

I've not listened to any jrwi in a while but I'd love to catch up on what I've missed in riptide at least at some point, hopefully pd too. maybe I'll even watch the end of apotheosis someday. one day I will be prescribed *something* that will give me the ability to focus on things and then I will return to jrwi. for now though. we move

[shift-shaping]

Is Solas getting paid by the Inquisition for his work

[cienie-isengardu]

A bit about Cyrax Gameplay Trailer

Under Bi-Han’s leadership, Lin Kuei adapted an enemy's magical weapon and turned it into technological improvement for their warriors, without turning anyone into soulless, obedient machine. Stealth, so important to the clan, is now on a whole new level, as was seen with Sektor literally becoming invisible.

And then ironically, Bi-Han is not using said technology because of course he is out there relying on his own skills and cryomancy 😂

[milommid]

they came :3

[thegroundsofbrooklyn]

a little birdie told me someone might have a video boot of closing..... if anyone who fits this criteria is reading this, you know where to find me 👀

(dms. dms is where to find me)

[arson-09]

maybe an unpopular booktwt/booktok/bookstagram opinion but buying limited special editions of a book or book series you havent read is so odd to me. Like theres people who have actually read and want that limited limited edition but you just buy it to look pretty on your shelf. Yeah you can buy books you plan to read but i have seen so many posts of people buying DOZENS of books and just having them on their tbr or displayed on their shelf.

its a big part of the growing issue of overconsumption on booktok/bookstagram/booktwt. Theres nothing wrong with buying a book you like but these people doing expensive book hauls, especially off of amazon (which has tons of its own issues to unpack) are so weird to me.

Support libraries!!! read a book from the library before you buy it!! this benefits way more people in the long run and is much more sustainable.

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 29: Winedrunk Affection

We’re in the home stretch now! 

Mushy May arranged by @forlorn-crows 

Pairing: Mountain/Sunny/Dew

Rating: Teen

Words: 1009

***

Mountain is the only ghoul Papa trusts enough to go to the local farmer’s market unsupervised. He doesn’t bother vendors, nor does he get sidetracked looking at things he knows he doesn’t need. He gets what’s written on the communal list, and only what’s on the communal list. 

At least, that’s what Papa believes. 

Mountain shoves the door to the ghoul kitchen open with his hip, balancing several paper bags in his arms. He unloads the fresh produce into the fridge, the new jar of honey into the cabinet, and the bread into the breadbox. 

He folds the empty paper bags and sticks them on the pile under the sink. There’s one bag remaining, standing on the kitchen island, and he grabs it, tucking it under his arm. Glass clinks together, and Mountain cringes, even though he knows the glass is thick enough that he can drop these bottles and get away with it. 

He sticks his head out of the kitchen door, glancing up and down the hallway for any of his packmates or fellow ghouls. When he realizes the coast is clear, he makes his way quickly down the hallway, ducking out of the nearest door. 

Once he makes it out of the abbey proper, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket, walking quickly to his greenhouse. He thumbs through his messages, finding a specific group chat. 

Mountain: Meet me at the greenhouse in five. Got the stuff

Dew: Fuck yeah!!!!!!

Sunny: Finishing up with the girls, be right there!

He smiles, grabbing his keyring and unlocking the greenhouse. Mountain takes a deep breath of dirt and growth that feels like home, and makes his way to the table and chairs in the back. He sets the bag down, pulling out three large bottles of wine, each a different hue, one purple, one almost orange, and one pink. 

Mountain reaches for one of the cabinets that line the back wall of the greenhouse, moving a watering can to reveal three wine glasses. He sets them on the table, and goes about lighting the lanterns and candles dotted around the shelves with a lighter.

Pounding footsteps approach the greenhouse, and Dew appears in the doorway, doubled over and panting. “Came as soon as I could,” he wheezes, looking up at Mountain. “I could have lit those.”

Mountain snorts, lighting the last lantern. “Get inside, firefly. It’s on the table.”

“You are the fucking best, juniper,” Dew says, clasping his hands and grinning. He takes a seat at the back table as Sunny scrambles into the greenhouse. Mountain locks the door behind her.

“Well, the girls think I’m hooking up with one of you,” she laughs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m letting them think that so they don’t find out.”

“Oh, you care about our wine dates that much, bumblebee?” Mountain says, resting his arm on her shoulder as they walk to the back of the greenhouse. 

“I’m sure they’d like the wine, but this is our thing.”

“Oh, you’re sweet,” Mountain says, pulling out Sunny’s chair before Rikering over his own. 

Dew’s already grabbed his bottle, the wine inside flavored with raspberry juice. He unglamors his claws, wedging one into the cork and pulling it free. He pours himself a full glass and sets down the bottle. 

“You guys want me to open yours?” Dew offers, gesturing with his claws. Sunny passes her bottle over, a peach wine, and he pops it open. 

“I own a corkscrew,” Mountain sighs, though it’s like this every time. He takes said corkscrew and opens his own, flavored with blackberry.  He takes a long sip and sighs with delight. 

“Father below, this stuff is good,” Sunny says, throwing back a gulp. 

“That’s why I get it,” Mountain says. 

“Strong enough to get us drunk, too” Dew chimes in, having already finished his first glass. 

“We have all night, ember,” Sunny laughs. “Slow down.”

Dew’s nose crinkles as he smiles. “Nah,” He shakes his head, pouring himself another glass. “We do this every time. We drink all of our wine, we get drunk off of our asses, and then somehow we squeeze ourselves into your dinky little bed and not wake up on the ground in the morning.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, droplet,” Mountain agrees, draining his glass. It doesn’t go unnoticed that the other two ghouls stare at his throat as he swallows. He raises an eyebrow at them, and they pretend to be interested in the labels of their bottles. 

They finish their glasses, and pour more, and pour more, until the bottles are empty. Mountain has the clarity of mind to put the empty bottles back in the paper bag, and the ghouls migrate to Mountain’s bed. 

Sunny practically tackles Dew to the mattress, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She clings when she’s drunk, and Dew happened to be the closest. She wraps her arms around him and refuses to let go. 

“Sunny, baby, sweetheart,” Mountain slurs, “You need to move so I can get in my bed with the two of you.”

“Nuh-uh,” she protests, shaking her head. Her curls brush against Dew’s pink cheeks, the reddening tip of his ear, and he bursts into delirious giggles. 

“Sun-ny!” he laughs, throwing his head back into the pillows. “Let him in, come on, it’s his bed.”

“Don’t wanna move,” Sunny says, nuzzling closer into Dew’s skin. “My ember. Mine.”

Mountain sighs before laying down as gently as he can over top both of them. The breath leaves Dew’s body with a soft oof as both Sunny’s and Mountain’s weight presses him down into the mattress. He scoops his arms under the both of them, rolling onto his back so both his ghouls lay on his chest. 

“Come on, my pretty darlings. Let’s go to bed. I’ll keep you here in my arms and no one will end up on the floor.”

“My hero,” Dew giggles, pressing a kiss to Mountain’s cheek. 

“I’m all yours, baby,” Mountain agrees. “All of yours.”

[garaviel]

. . . Dress code color requirement . . . For your guests . . . At your wedding . . . What

[tackyink]

The company I've been working at for ten years is closing at the end of the month, though I'll probably be tying up loose ends through April as operations gradually wind down. Boss offered to transfer the company to me at no cost, but there's been too many months of losses to believe the trend will shift in our favor, so this is it. I've known for years this was coming, but it's hitting hard anyway. I was in my twenties and full of energy and working full time and taking evening lessons twice a week when I got hired, and now I'm mid thirties, ill, and unsure how to look for a new job when even I don't know if my body can sustain an 8 hour shift anymore (experience tells me no). Why must new beginnings be always so daunting?

[horrorlesbians]

maybe it's just because my depression is worse but I've realized i don't really care about monster high dolls anymore

[tenrose]

The cognitive dissonance between me saying fuck capitalism and me working as much extra hours as I can because I need money 🙃

[wonder-worker]

"On 31 July, as troops assembled, William Caxton brought out an edition of the late Sir Thomas Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. The story of King Arthur and his knights of the round table was a perennial favourite – Caxton had, he said, been prompted to publish by ‘many noble and diverse gentlemen’ – and Malory’s version was an obvious choice. Malory had fought in Edward IV’s wars against the Lancastrians and had completed his book in prison during the tumultuous late 1460s. All human life was here, Caxton explained in his prologue: ‘herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin.’ The printed book included a number of alterations to Malory’s manuscript. In one episode, a sleeping King Arthur dreams of a mortal fight between a ravening bear, ‘a tyrant that torments your people’, and a dragon, which kills it. In Caxton’s edition, someone changed the bear to a boar. The allusion was unmistakeable: the boar was Richard. And the dragon? Back in 1461 Edward IV had claimed that beast, portraying himself as heir to the mythical British king Cadwaladr – ‘rubius draco’ – who would unite England, Wales and Scotland and whose heirs would reign to the end of the world. But now, in the summer of 1485, ‘rougedragon’ denoted somebody different: the man who, in the absence of Edward’s children, loyalists to the late king now saw as the heir to his cause – Henry Tudor."

-Thomas Penn, "The Brothers York: An English Tragedy"

[purrpickle]

Look at how wonderfully grumptastic Becky is in this photocard! 😄

[mieczyhale]

"Never apologize for putting stupid in its place."

- t.

[iralthegreat]

I am happy to announce that I am now the ashamed owner of a framed photo of Edward Hyde

[schnuffel-danny]

trying to calculate how much I've spent on Jack/Vlad commissions, because I wanna make some sense of my personal spending and finances, and also I wanna remember the general comm prices of the artists I commissioned (since I might wanna get more art in the future) ....and I really should've done this sooner, because trying to dig through transactions where I put literally no damn description of what I'm paying for, it's impossible to decipher what was a Jack/Vlad comm and what was like.... literally anything else tbh :,D