#sorry this took a hot minute to get to!

[kasterarts]

Moving Forward. (Spoilers for YTTD up through 3-1b)

[twistedappletree]

The funniest “Jin Ling damsel in distress moment” is actually in the donghua on dafan mountain when Lan Jingyi kicks Jin Ling into the cave with so much force (infamous Lan Clan hamstrings?) that he just disappears??? I mean logically, he probably just fell on his face then got up and was like “screw this loser” and started exploring the cave for the heck of it but it’s so much funnier to imagine LJY kicking him so hard that he just rolled through the entire cave system for like 5 minutes straight until he crashed into the dancing goddess statue

[dewedup]

28 with Phantom & Dew

I'm a mess already but I wouldn't mind it getting worse

here's a little something something (only a few months late and not the longest but still a feel trip)

Phantom could tell Dew was having a rough day from the moment he woke up; he just couldn’t seem to figure out when the problem started.

When he’d shuffled over to cuddle in the early light of day, Dew had rolled away.

If there’s one thing Phantom respects, it’s boundaries. So instead, he just placed a hand on Dew’s hip under the covers and kept his distance. But it seemed like even this tiny show of affection was getting under the fire ghoul’s skin. Dew huffed a frustrated sigh and got up to shower, he didn’t even bother to throw a cheeky wink at Phantom, finger crooked in a ‘come hither’ motion like usual. 

Phantom didn’t let it get to him; he knows how turbulent Dew’s moods can be. He rolled with the punches and went about his own morning routine, making sure to give Dew a little extra space in their shared room. 

The morning seemed to have set the tone for the rest of the day. Phantom tiptoed around Dew while the fire ghoul continued to ignore his presence. He knew the ghoul probably just needed some time, so he tried his best to stick to him like a shadow, quiet but close enough if Dew decided he needed him. 

Well, maybe he stayed too close. 

Phantom walked down the hallway back to the den, lost in thought while looking out the window and didn’t realize Dew had slowed his pace. He stumbled, his foot falling on the heel of Dew’s shoe, causing the fire ghoul to trip slightly. Dew caught himself on the wall and turned to Phantom, eyes burning with a fiery rage. Phantom’s cheeks flushed something fierce, an apology already spilling from his lips.

“Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone for five Satan-damned minutes?” Dew hissed, eyes narrowing at the younger ghoul. Phantom jumped back a few steps, raising his hands in defence at the angry tone. Tears pricked behind his eye lids as steam blew out of Dew’s nostrils. 

“I’m sorry! It was an accident,” Phantom rushed out, biting his lip to keep the tears at bay. 

“Seriously? You’ve been breathing down my neck all day. Do I have to spell it out for you?” Dew paused, as if waiting for a response, but Phantom had no idea what he was talking about. “I just need a break; you’re constantly there and sometimes I just want to do things without you. We don’t need to be attached at the hip every second of every day.”

Phantom was at a loss for words. Did he do something wrong? Why did Dew not talk to him about this before now? The confusion must have been written across his face because Dew just scoffed, his head shaking as he continued the walk back to the den alone, leaving Phantom to watch, wondering where it all went wrong. 

“Oh Bug,” Phantom whirled around, wiping furiously at the tear that had started to fall down his cheek. Rain smiled sadly at him, walking forward to wrap his arms around the downtrodden ghoul.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming,” Phantom whimpered into Rain’s chest, shoulders shaking as he took deep breaths of the water ghoul’s scent in an attempt to ground himself.

“Hey, no none of that,” Rain tsked, pulling back slightly so he could hook a finger under Phantom’s chin. He waited for the younger ghoul to meet his eyes before he spoke next. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is on Dew. He doesn’t get to treat you like that. Just because he’s having a shitty day, it doesn’t make it okay for him to take it out on you.”

Phantom nodded, willing Rain’s words to sink in and take root. 

[val-ur-pal]

mungojerrie being a silly little guy!!

the silly! Ahh first time drawing him so im sorry its not the best <3

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

As the night gave into twilight, as the stars faded, so did the darkness give way to light. 

Her head hurt, that was the first thing she understood. Her head hurt. It felt sticky, too. Like she had been bleeding. She slowly pushed up from the thing she had been resting against… a man, it seemed. Tall, definitely taller than her. He wasn’t looking at her, he was looking away. She looked away from him as well, trying to understand her surroundings. 

She looked down to see her hands and arms tightly bound. The leather restraints had bruised her wrists. They didn't hurt nearly as bad as her head, but they definitely still hurt. 

"You're finally awake." She jumped, even though the voice that had startled her was gentle. She snapped up to look at the man across from her. He looked tired, but he was smiling all the same. 

She blinked, wondering if she was supposed to recognize him. She tipped her head as she thought. She looked over his face, his hair, his outfit, trying to fit the pieces of him together. She liked the way the dawn light looked in his blonde hair. 

"You got caught in the same ambush as us." His voice was still soft, he must have picked up on her confusion. "You were crossing the border, right?" He asked her. 

"I… I don't know." She answered him honestly. She truly didn't have a single clue how she got here. She tried to think, but her head just kept hurting. She met the man's eyes. "Where am I?"

"Hey!" The final prisoner, the man in rags, spoke to her. "We shouldn't be here! It’s these damn Stormcloaks the Empire wants! You and me have nothing to do with it!" 

"We're all prisoners now, Lokir." The blonde man spoke, giving him a slightly annoyed look. 

"Where am I?" She repeated the question, because no one had answered it. "Who are you? What's going on!?" Panic began to bubble up within her. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay! I'm Ralof." He smiled brighter, though it was clearly forced through his exhaustion. "You hit your head pretty hard. How much do you remember?" 

Nothing.

She remembered nothing. At all. She fought through the pain, as she tried to recall a time before this. Any memories of life before this wagon at all. But she couldn't. There was nothing. And the more she strained her thoughts, the more her head hurt. 

"Nothing." She whispered with her eyes wide. "I don't remember anything-"

"Shut up back there!" The coachman of the wagon snapped. 

"Why don't you gag all of us, then!" Lokir snapped right back, before he looked to the man across from him, the man she had been leaning on. "Actually, why are you gagged? What's wrong with you?"

She wondered how Lokir expected him to answer that. 

Ralof scowled. "Watch your mouth." His tone carried a warning. "That's the true High King you're talking to!" 

He didn't look like much of a king to her. What kind of king ends up a prisoner? 

"You're Ulfric Stormcloak?!" Lokir was beginning to panic more and more. "If they have you, what are they going to do to us?!" 

Ralof leaned back, looking up to the sky. "Sovngarde awaits." He took in a deep breath, before looking back between her and Lokir. "Where are you two from?" 

"Why does it matter?" Lokir's voice cracked. 

Ralof gave him a serious look. "Our last thoughts should be of home." 

Lokir was shaking harder now. He doubled over, barely holding himself up. "Rorikstead." His voice was stained with his tears. "I'm from Rorikstead. My father runs the inn. I shouldn't have left him. I shouldn't have left my brother."

"I've been to Rorikstead." Ralof kept his tone gentle. "A fine part of Whiterun." He turned to look at her. "You?" 

"I don't know." She answered him honestly. "My memories are completely empty. I- I don't even know my name. Who I am. Nevermind where I'm from." She glanced to the stone walls, up ahead. "Or where I'm going." 

"That's a shame." She looked back to Ralof as he spoke. "It must seem a short life for you." 

She looked down, wondering who she's supposed to be. She was in patches and rags, and she was a prisoner. Whoever she was, she may not even be a good person. She wished she knew. 

The shadow of a stone arch passed over them, She looked up and around at the town, wondering if it was supposed to be familiar. It wasn’t. She looked back down with a heavy frown. 

"Helgen." Ralof spoke up again, determined to kill the heavy silence among them. "I used to see a man from here. He'd mix juniper berries into his mead, it was pretty good." He smiled, but it was distant and sad. 

"General Tullius!" A new voice rang out from somewhere ahead that she couldn't see. "The headsman is waiting." 

“Good.” Another voice called back. “Let’s finally end this.” 

The wagon slowly came to a halt at the wall, a soldier leading the horses away. They were the last one in the line, with the other wagons already emptying. She thought about what Ralof had said. A short life, indeed. 

“Let’s go.” Ralof stood up, undaunted by his fate. “We shouldn’t keep the gods waiting, it’s hardly polite.” 

Lokir began to shake harder, panicking even more. He knew he was going to die. She felt bad for him, she truly did. It seemed that whatever authority was executing them was only after these “Stormcloaks”, not people like him or her who just got caught in the middle. 

“No, wait!” He cried. “Please! I’m not a Stormcloak, I just took a horse! Is that really worth death?!” 

“Have courage, Lokir.” Ralof was trying to sound reassuring, but he mostly just sounded tired. As she got out of the cart, he looked back at her. 

Like he had done for her so many times now, she offered him a smile. If she was going to die, she should at least be friendly to the people she’s dying with. It would have been nice to get to know Ralof before she had to die with him. 

“Step up to the block as we call your name.” One of the voices from before spoke, and she looked around Ralof to see two people she didn’t recognize. One of them, the woman, appeared to be of higher rank than the other. She had been the one speaking. “Hadvar?” She prompted. 

Hadvar, the soldier, breathed in. He looked down at his book, a quill in his other hand. “Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, of Windhelm.”

Ulfric kept his head held high as he moved to the block, towering over the other soldiers. 

As he walked, Ralof spoke up. “It’s truly been an honor, King Ulfric.” 

Hadvar’s eyes moved down the list. She spotted the way he seemed to hesitate, the way his eyes glassed over as he looked up. “Ralof.” He breathed. He seemed to keep himself steady, but she could see the very tip of his quill trembling. “Ralof, of Riverwood.” 

Ralof silently moved past him, refusing to even look at him. They knew each other, she thought. They had to, there was no other reason for the way they had reacted to each other. 

Hadvar breathed in before he continued. “Lokir, of Rorikstead.” 

Lokir suddenly bolted, causing her to jump a bit. He sprinted past the captain, past the soldiers. The Captain raised her hand to a nearby archer, who took the signal instantly. Within a blink of an eye, the arrow sunk into the back of Lokir’s neck. Hopefully it killed him quickly. He crumpled to the ground, and all she could think about was the family he had mentioned. His father, his brother. 

“You, there.” Hadvar spoke to her. She was confused by the look he was giving her, like he knew her. Maybe he did, she certainly didn’t know. “Come forward.” 

She stepped forward, meeting his eyes. She glanced to the book, hoping he would read her name and her hometown, as he had for the others. It would be nice to have a name. 

“What’s your name?” Her hopes were crushed by his question. 

“Eryn.” She answered with the first thing that had come to her mind. She had only had a second to think, and it was the only thing she could think of. 

Eryn, in spite of the circumstances, smiled. She would die with a name, at least.

Hadvar looked back down at his book, and then back up. “Where are you from, Eryn?” He asked her. She only shrugged at him. She didn’t know. “Uhh, right.” He turned to his apparent superior. “Captain, Eryn isn’t on the list. She’s the one-” 

“Forget the list.” The Captain snapped at him, scowling. “She goes to the block. None of these worms leave alive today.” 

Hadvar returned the scowl, just a little, but enough. “But-” 

The Captain turned to face him fully, her tone harsh. “The block, Hadvar.” 

Hadvar looked like he wanted to argue, but he ultimately sighed. “By your orders, ma’am…” He looked away from her, and to Eryn. “I’m so sorry.” 

Eryn didn’t reply, if he was really sorry he would help her. She moved away from him, walking over to stand next to Ralof. He was the only person she felt like she knew at all. She didn’t want to die, but it was nice to die knowing something. Anything at all. 

Ralof leaned over to whisper. “I thought you said you didn’t remember anything?” 

Eryn leaned in too, shrugging to him. “Eryn was just the first thing I thought of.” She cracked a smile. “I guess I’ll just have that name for the rest of my life.” 

Ralof snickered at the gallows humor, which made her laugh too. “It’s pretty.” He told her, still smiling. 

"Ulfric." The distinct voice of Tullius captured everyone's attention. In spite of his much shorter stature compared to Ulfric, he was still equally as intimidating. "So many in Skyrim call you a hero." His voice was dripping with disdain. "But a “hero” doesn't use his Voice to murder his king and steal his throne." 

Ulfric took a single step forward, yelling something that was muffled by his gag. Every imperial soldier moved, ready to restrain Ulfric if they had to. 

But Tullius himself was unafraid. He didn't flinch. He simply drew his sword. "You damned your own homeland, your own people, into chaos. And I'm going to end it. Here and now. I am going to put. You. Down." He sheathed his sword, turning to the captain. "He's last. I want him to see his men being executed for his actions."

Eryn looked to her only point of reference, Ralof. She hoped he would give her some context, any at all. This seemed cruel, why should anyone be punished for someone else's actions?! But the look Ralof gave her told her it was far, far too much to explain right now. 

Eryn looked up as the sound of something echoed through the sky. Everyone around her was equally as confused. If she didn't know better, she would have called the noise a roar. 

Tulluis broke the silence, choosing not to acknowledge the noise. "Grant them their last rites, or whatever the nords call it." 

A woman in robes stepped forward, raising her arms to the sky. "As we gift your souls into Aetherius, the love and light of the eight divines shine upon-" 

A stormcloak soldier stepped forward. The woman next to him looked at him with worry. "Sorald, no, don't-" 

"Nine." Sorald spoke with certainty and anger. 

"Excuse me?" The priestess dropped her arms, glaring at him. 

"Nine divines." Sorald began to walk towards the priestess, causing the imperial soldiers to pull her back, out of harm's way. But Sorald stopped, looking at the block, the headsman. "Let's get this over with."

He knelt down, laying his head on the block. "My ancestors are proud of me." He spoke as the headsman raised his axe. "Can you say-"

The axe came down, cutting off his last words. The crowd, including Eryn, flinched. She looked over to the other woman, the one that had been beside him. 

She fell to her knees, sobbing. "You imperial bastards!" She screamed. Ralof knelt down beside her, trying to comfort her. 

"He was as fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof told the sobbing woman. "He wouldn't have wanted it any other way." 

"Justice!" "Death to the stormcloaks!" 

Eryn glanced at the people behind her, cheering for this man's death. She tried to understand, she wanted to understand. She couldn't. Whatever this was, she had been ensnared in the middle. 

"Next." The Captain was apathetic. "The woman in the rags." 

That made Tullius look to the sentenced prisoners, to Eryn. "Wait, you're the woman from-"

Another cry wailed through the sky, this time so loud it made Eryn's ears hurt. Hadvar, next to the captain, kept his eyes on the sky. "That noise… what is that?" 

The Captain didn't so much as acknowledge him or the noise. "Next prisoner." 

Hadvar sighed, looking down, and then to Eryn. "Come up, Eryn. It'll be quick." His voice was gentle, but his face showed clear conflict.

Eryn’s heart dropped as her eyes widened. She felt genuine fear, feeling it spread through her body. She didn’t want to die! She didn’t even know what she was leaving behind! Would it hurt? What would come next? Her stomach turned over itself as she walked over, the adrenaline numbing her. She could barely even feel the ground under her knees as she knelt down. 

An armored boot kicked her all the way down, causing her to lose her breath for a moment. Her neck crashed into the wooden block, and she let out an involuntary noise of pain. She looked up at the executioner, hiding his face behind a ringmail mask. But his eyes were showing, and Eryn looked into them. If he was going to kill her without question, he better look her in the eye. 

The ground suddenly shook as a massive, spiked creature landed on the tower behind the axeman. The massive beast looked around, before throwing its head up. It let out a powerful and terrible roar, the echo of it causing the ground to tremble. Clouds and fire swirled into existence around it, blocking the morning sun and bathing the town in a dark and burning red. 

From the clouds, rocks and fire began to slam into the town. One meteoric stone fell in between the executioner and Eryn. The executioner fell, seemingly unconscious. And she wasn’t far behind him. She landed on her back, the wind now fully knocked out of her. Her vision began to blur, darkness tugging at the edges of her mind. One of the only things she could feel was the blood under her back. 

“Hey! Eryn!” 

A distant voice was calling her, but it was getting louder. Her lungs screamed as she breathed in, trying to hold onto her consciousness, to her life. Something pulled her from the ground, hard. It snapped her back into her reality all at once,  she scrambled to her feet. She looked up to see Ralof, who was trying to pick her up. 

“Come on!” He yelled, and they both sprinted to the nearby tower. Ralof shut the door behind them, getting a barrier in between them and the dragon. 

Eryn tried to catch more of her breath and get her bearings. She shook off the daze. “What is that thing?!” She yelled.

“A dragon.” Another voice answered. Eryn turned to see Ulfric spitting the last of his gag from his mouth. He was much calmer than everyone else. 

“A dragon?!” Ralof echoed in disbelief. “Like the legends?!” 

“Legends don’t destroy cities. Monsters do.” Ulfric answered. 

Outside, a roar and a crash. Eryn took in a deep breath. "Let's move, now! We need to get out of here!"  She looked over to the stairs up to the roof. It’ll be better to get to higher ground. She exchanged a look with Ralof, and they both raced up the stairs. 

The wall exploded out, nearly killing them both. Eryn yanked Ralof back as they both watched the dragon open its terrible jaws and erupt fire. The heat made her eyes hurt, but she kept a tight grip on Ralof. The dragon suddenly pushed off from the tower, shaking it. They looked through the hole it had made. 

Ralof looked around, and then down. “The inn!” He exclaimed, pointing to it. Jump for it!” 

Eryn looked to the roof below, and then to him. “What about you?!” She asked, worried about him. 

Ralof gave her a serious look. “I’ll follow when I can. I promise. Go!”

Eryn didn’t have time to think about it before she leapt from the tower. She rolled into the landing on instinct, getting rid of the momentum. She sprung up and looked back up for Ralof, but he was no longer there. She turned away, spotting a hole in the floor of the burning inn. She ran to it, jumping down to the ground. 

She ran out of the building, one of the wooden beams collapsing behind her. She looked around for her next move, but spotted a man on the ground. He was bleeding. Heavily. Beside him, a child. Eryn began to run over to them, hoping to help the father, or get the child away from the danger. 

“Run, Hamming, run!” The father cried, trying to shove his son away. 

The boy shook his head, still trying to get his father to safety, with what little strength he had. "Dad- DAD-" He cried. 

The dragon landed behind them, looking down at the pair, and then to Eryn. Eryn froze as those red eyes burned into her. She met the dragon's eyes, and for a moment, it distracted both of them. They stared into each other's souls. For just a second, Eryn understood something about this beast. That it had a name. That he had a name, and he knew exactly what he was doing. That he was evil.

He stared into her soul. 

For just a moment, Eryn truly understood the concept of an enemy. 

Someone else ran out from behind cover. This broke the trance both the dragon and Eryn had been in. 

Eryn realized it was Hadvar who had run out, and she looked up in horror as the dragon was about to blast fire at him. He wasn't afraid. He slid forward, digging his shield into the ground just in time. He held Hamming close to himself, the fire splitting on either side of the shield, some of it burning his arm. But he kept Hamming close, protecting the child with his entire being. 

The father had surely perished. 

Hadvar looked up and around, trying to find safety. Eryn looked to a clearing in between the burning inn and a destroyed house. “Over here!” She called to Hadvar, running to the clearing, where another man was hiding. 

Hadvar abandoned his shield, picking up the boy and running over to Eryn and the man. “Take the boy!” He told the older man, setting the crying child down. “Get him out of here, I’m going to join the defense!” 

“How can I help?” Eryn stepped closer to Hadvar, looking at him seriously. She wanted to help, however she could. She had to help. She had to.

Hadvar blinked, but then smiled. He took out his sword, and used it to cut loose her binds. She rubbed her bruised wrists. "Let's get you to the keep.” He answered.  “We'll find you some gear and we can figure out how to fight this thing." He turned away, looking out to the city. “Follow me!” 

Hadvar ran, and Eryn followed right behind him. He led her through the burning city, ducking near walls to try and stay out of the dragon’s path of destruction. As they ran past Tullius, she heard him ordering a retreat. She looked around a bit, realizing that this town would be unsalvageable.

They came into the shadow of a large fortress-like building that Eryn assumed was the keep. Motion caught her eye to her left, and she smiled as she realized it was Ralof, running towards the keep. He spotted Hadvar and Eryn, and all three of them came to a stop. “Ralof!” Eryn was happy to see him. 

Hadvar wasn’t. “Get out of the damned way you traitor!” 

Ralof barely reacted to the raised voice, only narrowing his eyes a bit. “You can’t stop me. You know that.” 

Hadvar snarled. “Fine! I’ll see you in Sovngarde, then!” With that, he shoved past Ralof, apparently leaving Eryn behind. Though, she suspected he had thought she would follow him. 

Instead, she looked to Ralof, who gestured towards the closest door. “Let’s get inside!” He yelled, reaching out to grab her hand. He lead them both inside, barely getting in the door before fire burned on the other side of it.

“We made it.” Ralof panted. 

Eryn leaned back against the door, trying to catch her breath. She was safe, well, safer than she would have been outside. For now. 

[asexual-society]

This is weird and I don't know if it's a question per se, but here it goes. I'm ace and probably arospec but not sure and not in a hurry to find out. I have no problem saying this at all, anywhere, to anyone. But when confronted with the word queer, or being part of the lgbt+ community, I take a step back. I've been going to pride for years and have a lot of queer friends. but for some reason, in those spaces I don't feel like I fit in. I don't know if it's because we don't share the same closet experience, and unless we say it, out loud, no one would know about us. And is the same in hetero allo spaces, I don't belong there. So I feel like I'm in this limbo, where I don't belong anywhere. I guess the point of this is, am I alone in this?

That seems pretty understandable to me, especially if your other queer friends aren't ace or aro, it can be pretty isolating not to fit into the queer spaces that by all accounts you should fit into, and even though there is a lot of overlap between the experiences of aspec people and allo queer people, there can be parts of their experiences that we don't fully relate to, just like how a lesbian might not totally fit in with a group of only gay men, or a bi person might not totally fit in with a queer person exclusively attracted to the same gender. Equally, there's this sort of misconception that aspec people aren't clockable as queer like gay or bi people are for example, or that we don't face any discrimination like they do, which just isn't true. Not that oppression or trauma are requirements for entry into the community, but we can tend to diminish what our community as a whole goes through when we're asked for credentials as to why we should be allowed in queer spaces.

You don't have to call yourself queer or lgbt+ or any other label if you don't want to, if you don't feel a community with those groups you are under no obligation to join in, and the same is true for any non-cis/het individual. But, if there will always be space here for you if or when you want it.

~ mod key

[candycryptids]

‘How Does Your Journey End’ [Quiz]

I got tagged by @archaiclumina !!! thank you 🥰‼️✨

You know where you belong

The adventure involving swords, blood and gold may be over, but the one with your new-found friends has only just begun. Home, once dull and boring is now alight with laughter and joy as you find love in the little things. You love your friends and your friends love you.

Fairly accurate I’d say! After EW I think Ishi settles down for a little bit with Kizuna, for a (somewhat forced by Ishi) vacation from being in the worlds spotlight (they cultivate an Island Sanctuary together with minimal Mammets uwu) but I think they’re both too restless and prone to wanderlust to fully retire from adventuring lmfao. After all, Kizuna is still drawn to helping and saving people, and evil/trouble isn’t going to take a vacation either.

Though they’d both probably love the chance to go back to being no-name nobodies, doing small scale low-stakes quests… something less stressful than the fate of the shard hanging in the balance maybe…

Gonna tag a few people I think would enjoy this! But no stress, pressure, obligation, etc! This is just for fun uvu;! (Also if you’d rather not be tagged in future stuff lemme know I’ll make a note ! OvO) @cindernet-explorer @verysmallcyborg @oneiroy @mythandral

@sjofn-lofnsdottr @cadrenebula

[hibiscusxqueen]

@marriageproposallola liked for a starter:

"Well now," Rouge hummed, taking a bite of the slice of chiffon cake. The sweet flavours sang upon her tastebuds. "This is delightful! I would strongly recommend getting this from the bakery in the corner."

Crimson eyes met the young pirate before her. She knew who the girl was. Shakky's spiders always kept her up-to-date though the last time she had seen the woman before her, she was just a babe "I wasn't expecting to see one of LinLin's children here. What brings you here?"

[postapocalyptic-cryptic]

@messyspacespades HI THANK YOU FOR YOUR INTEREST

Basically, I started out thinking "I bet I could write an essay about how tf bayverse is military propaganda for this class about toys and entertainment." Consulted my prof and she gave me the green light bc she's wonderful. Dove into the research sauce and the first thing I pulled up was an essay detailing how the US military actually funded Bayverse.

They gave money, they gave props, they let them film parts of it in the fucking Pentagon.

Obviously, this piqued my interest. I looked a little further and found a Master's thesis about the USAmerican politics of TF. This was right up my alley (my area of expertise is pop culture and american politics) so I started going a little crazy. I found out that not only did the Department of Defense fund Bayverse, they gave specific instructions on how bayverse would be written/portray the US. Apparently, this is a common thing that the DoD does regularly.

So that was part of the essay. The other part was about how the first bayverse movie pushes an american exceptionalism agenda and justifies American presence in the Middle East. It was super fun to write, and now it's gotten me money AND an opening slot at a symposium which is WILD.

[mister-eames]

sitting here thinking what made eames snap at arthur “your condensation AS ALWAYS is much appreciated arthur thank you” what’s the back story what’s the hidden angst I’m dying here

This, reeks to me of at least one significant incident in the past of one of them shooting down the others idea shall we say 'gently, with a chainsaw.'

Maybe their last job together, before the Fischer job. Arthur was having a bad day, you know, like a rare and real Bad Day. His brain was too loud, his back was in pain, he had a burgeoning migraine, their extractor had fucked off so now Arthur was trying to fill two roles, his mom is very sick, and he has calculations of her medical bills interfering with actual calculations for the job. You know when you're at peak stress? Like you have 18 things to cross off your list before you can even think about a food break, and you just don't have the time to consider taking a breath, or delegating the tasks, you just have tunnel vision, your blood sugar is low, you just need to get through this and you need a radius of silence around you? I think Eames got in the way of that. He was probably trying to help Arthur out and volunteered an idea for the job and was shot down gently, with a (metaphorical) chainsaw. Arthur probably felt bad for it by the time the job was done and paid Eames some pithy compliment like, 'you did good' and Eames, who has been subjected to a terse and surly Arthur for a week thinks the compliment isn't genuine, is forced, hence the 'condescension' remark. Eames shrugs it all off. He doesn't need Arthur to stroke his ego, he knows his worth. It'd just be nice, is all.

Also, this may sound weird, but I also think it's also a very cute kind of thing that they do. They pick something to attribute to one another and it almost becomes a game. "Your sarcasm, Arthur, as always, is much appreciated." "Your inane ramblings, Eames, is much appreciated, thank you." "Your lack of enthusiasm, is much appreciated." "Your tardiness--" 'Your stubornness" -- and perhaps it slowly, slowly it starts to get kinder. There's a few "Your resourcefulness is---" and "Your creativity is---" until, until.....

[yanyanderes]

me crawling out of my coffin to tell my followers i’m not dead i swear

little ramble in the tags-

[spongyspingy-rising]

in honor of Worldbulding Wednesday, I out together a little directory to help people know what to ask about! my lair is currently a huge mess because I'm in the middle of rehauling a lot of my lore, but almost all my dragons that are NOT in sales, intake, breeding pairs, wayside inn, or junkbox, have lore! that said...

I'm currently trying to focus on building:

⚔️ Blackminster / Naramorr - my most 'hot mess' tab right now, I'm slowly building this lore as a gen1 exclusive foray into Actual Fr Lore (and I have pivoted away from Morsallis I decided to make that a separate au in my brain... ) (YES Iskal is still here don't worry about it) but I haven't fleshed it out much so. worldbuilding questions appreciated!

🩸 Blood-threaded - this is my clown ass obsession project. I've always liked linages. the first page of dragons have lore, but Deucalion and Calyci bear the bulk of it rn. I'm still trying to grind out proper bios for the guys on the second page, waiting for it to strike me...

but you can also ask about:

🕯️ Mothsgrave - not all the dragons in here have lore; actually, many of them don't yet! I love setting questions though, Mothsgrave is a small village on the edge of the Hewn City that often experiences touches of the Shade... something they have a specific village role for taking care of.

🧿 Godseye - this is a loose collection of Plague dragons, not all necessarily interconnected but largely existing in relation to each other. also a hot mess tab, the name is a placeholder based off an old lore idea I probably will not be using for this LOL

📜 Father Afield - my collab lore dragons! most of these are related somehow to dragons owned by @guardsbian. it's a special favorite out of my lair because I have a particular fondness in my heart for sharing/rping lore :)

please don't get me started on:

🗝️ Astramor - iykyk! anyone who is familiar with my old lore is welcome to ask about it because I still love it, but I'm trying to focus on it less for this wbw... it has run its course and while I might revisit it, I wanna play with new dollies :D

NEXUS - this is just my ocs. and my Alfis collection.

[becauseplot]

uuu ask game!! 3 and 23??

Cal!!!! o///

3 - Five songs you have recently been obsessed with?

OOOOOHHHHH okay okay lemme have a look through my playlists. A lot of these are going to be tied to Ordem characters n stuff but I don't think you'll mind lmfao. I'll make sure it's spoiler-free for you (up to opc 7) so dw <33

Breezeblocks by Alt-J (for 90 Seconds to Midnight AU, Lizago-centric)

Over & Over by Rio Romero (for Sr. Veríssimo)

Put It on Me by Matt Maeson (for Joui & Gal from opd6->opc2)

Oh No! by MARINA (for Loneliness AU, occultist!kaiser)

Snakes from the Arcane series (no real character ties for this one, and I've never even watched Arcane, it's just very fun to listen to)

23 - Talk about a WIP?

Ah yes, WIPs. Daaaangerous to get me talking about my WIPs. Main one I'm working on rn is another Lizago fic (yeah yeah go figure I'm obsessed with them) but it's a bit different from what I usually ramble on about.

Long story short, I'm actually gonna dip into romantic-leaning Lizago rather than the platonic/qpr-leaning Lizago I usually like to play with. Basically: what if Thiago asked Liz out? What would be going through her head? Is that kind of relationship even possible for the kind of life they lead? Does a date really mean anything in the face of, "Hey we've almost died together several times and now my life centers around that danger and, by association, you"? Or is she completely overthinking this. It's fun to chew on! Also Joui will be there. I'll put a snippet of the draft under the cut <3

Shout at me! Distracting asks game!

Have a snippet of the drafted banter that may or may not appear as written in the final cut (takes place between aop and osnf, Liz is driving):

[mulletfriend]

tag game! tag 9 people to get to know better

got tagged by @postpunks thank you!!

last song: everything turns grey -- agent orange

favorite color: black or green

currently watching: i'm halfway through crimes of the future if that counts... no tv series at the moment (<- weird)

sweet, savory, or spicy: spicy !!

relationship status: taken!! by @zu-zup <33

last thing i googled: either 'when were nicotine patches invented' or 'berlin (my city) flights', depending on whether we count mobile or desktop

current obsession: reanimator brainrot is going strong six months in

tagging: @zu-zup @nullians @imoverdramatic @bansheehill @coffeeholicsworld @beloveryn @modernbaseball @ochreoutpost @chthonicillness (zero pressure to do this, and if anyone else wants to answer, plz do and tag me!!)

[doodleodds]

A quick comm about someone's two ocs and a gun mishap, lol! :)

[majimasleftasscheek]

Do you have any drawings of maji holding an injured kiryu or vice versa I need something sad or wholesome rn :[

I don't have any on hand so I drew a lil something

hhhhh my poor boys 😭