#this post sat in the drafts for a while

[user-without-a-cool-acronym]

Now, despite having watched the show since the beginning, I have not been on Tumblr and more so the Ninjago fandom on here all that long. So logically, seeing something from this fandom from before that time can be confusing. That said, what in the ever loving fuck is onceler Morro?

[aftgscenes]

It’s so funny going from Neil’s asexual pov to jeans definitely NOT asexual pov

Neil: Kevin is tall and has a tattoo

Jean: pretty boy with a soft smile and beautiful green eyes

Neil: Renee is a women and has hair

Jean: a force of hope and beauty, an anomaly in a world that’s ugly and bleak. She is the sun.

Neil: Jeremy is the captain of the Trojans and he smiles a lot for some reason

Jean: his bleach blonde hair frames his tanned freckled skin, his broad shoulders and tiny waist give way to his thicc thighs and ass

But also the reverse

Neil: Andrews strong unwavering frame and honey colored eyes

Jean: the tiny goalkeeper

[mattpearson]

PARKS AND RECREATION 4.04 — PAWNEE RANGERS | DELETED SCENE

[idalenn]

"So bold, and yet, so empty."

[allthegothihopgirls]

'affectionately' 'OUR lives' ???? ok jason 'this isn't a team' todd, what happened to solitude and darkness??? you finally found a twink boyfriend to be solitary and dark with??? i'm going to be sick

[ley-med]

I had a week long vacation not long ago, so I finally have enough energy to talk to non-medical friends once again. And I just realized once again, I'm not sure how to talk to them.

They tell me all the things they participated in, and I'm truly happy for them, all the while thinking I would never have half that much energy. They ask me how I am, I tell them I'm good, finally had a vacation. What did I do? Oh, literally nothing, tried to sleep off the worst of the exhaustion and tried to avoid interaction with other humans. How's work? You know, just the usual, it's good. It is good, and I love it, but how could I tell them all the horrors witnessed? That's right I don't, but what else do I have left to talk about? Most of my fun work stories are tainted with the shadows of tragedies... And unfortunately, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

So I just read their cheerful message and leave it on read, contemplating what to answer. And just hope they won't take offence to my agonizingly slow replies...

[yeehawitsjakee]

Bethan had been to Baldur's Gate once before. It hadn't even been an intentional visit honestly.

Six months before the Nautiloid she'd found herself wandering the bustling streets of the Lower City, assaulted by the sharp sea air and crowds. She'd actually been on route back to Amn, fresh from a job up in Phandalin, when word came of someone in Baldur's Gate needing a healer. Bethan may not have been a cleric but she was in the area with some healing to spare. A quick and fairly easy job all things considered.

Until some idiot thugs decided to try and mug her.

Their mistake, taking on a seasoned paladin with a few daggers. One lay at her feet, not dead but unlikely to be moving for a while. She made a mental note to heal him before she left. The others had scattered, leaving her bruised and bloodied to lick her wounds.

Bethan all but collapsed onto the nearest bench. She was beneath some sort of bar or pub (The Singing Lute?) just opposite the Counting House. She let herself breath. It was a much quieter area of the city than the maze of streets she'd been navigating moments prior. Just the lapping waves and distant hum of voices from the docks. Peaceful. Almost a lullaby. Bethan hadn't realised how tired she was. Her eyelids felt heavy all of a sudden.

"Good job, kiddo." a deep, rough voice murmured from behind her. She recognised it instantly. Her eyes shot open as she spun around, face to face with a ghost. Or at least someone who should have been one. Davyd Colwyvv. Her brother. He's just stood there, across the picnic table, almost awkwardly so. Like he doesn't really know how he should be standing.

Gods, was this real?

It had been, what, a decade since she last saw him? Just some scrappy farmer boy from Nashkel, fifteen summers old. He looked older now, obviously, with tired bags beneath his eyes and the ragged growth of stubble poking out of his jaw. He stared just past her ear, seemingly unable to make direct eye contact.

Her mouth felt dry but she forced out a croaky, "Davyd?"

He still wouldn't meet her gaze. But his previously neutral expression softened ever so slightly. "Hey."

If Bethan hadn't been focusing on him so intently she may have missed the slight wobble in his voice. Almost like a choked back sob. Davyd strode towards her, stopping just a meter away. Ever so slightly shaking.

He didn't move for a moment, like he was waiting for her to say something. Maybe he wanted her to make the first move, maybe he thought she wasn't happy to see him alive after all these years.

But Bethan didn't have time for hypotheticals. She held out her arms and was immediately almost swept off her feet into a tight embrace. And it suddenly hit her: this was real. He was real. His heart beating against her cheek, each warm shaky breath into her hair. He was alive.

Davyd held her for a while as she sobbed and then directed her back to the bench so they could sit and talk. Not for long, not for long enough. And he refused to tell her what he'd been doing all those years. He explained he had been on his way out of the city on important business when he saw her. Didn't know when he would be back. A small gut punch. But he'd promised that when he was back he'd tell her everything. And she'd believed him.

Obviously neither of them had getting abducted by mind flayers on their bingo cards. Or Davyd losing most of his memories for that matter. The complete lack of recognition in his eyes when they met again on the nautiloid still haunted her. It had only been six months since The Singing Lute but he looked so much older than before. His scraps of stubble had grown out into what could almost be considered a beard, the bags under his eyes seemed somehow even more dark and pronounced. Bethan figured, in hindsight, that having a lobotomy would probably do that to you. And the whole being-a-Bhaalspawn thing explained his lack of explaining.

They ended up at The Singing Lute again on the search for Minsc. He was in the counting house, apparently. For not the first time since she'd been forced to traipse through the maze of sewers, Bethan wondered if Jaheira had only dragged them to Guildhall under the guise of looking for Minsc purely so she could speak with Nine-Fingers. Not that their conversation seemed to have gone particularly well. Jaheira didn't want to talk about it, just sent the party to question guildmembers for some kind of lead.

(She quietly wondered if figuring out the relationship status between a certain Guildmaster and High Harper was a possible/valuable use of channeling her oath. Surely Sune would understand.)

She hadn't even realised where they were at first. It was only when Davyd stopped dead in his tracks she even took note of their surroundings. The rest of the party had wandered off ahead into the Counting House leaving the siblings alone. First time they'd been properly alone since Last Light Inn. Since Isobel.

Bethan had already bore witness to his new Slayer skin. The form itself didn't scare her. She was, after all, a loyal Sunite. There was beauty in even the most horrifying places. It was the cost that got to her. Isobel. And, in turn, every life in Last Light. Davyd wasn't stupid, he knew what would happen. And he did it anyway. His insistence on it being "the best course of action" and "for the greater good" faltered when she remembered the price. Sure Bethan wasn't exactly thrilled about potentially becoming a mind flayer, but not enough that a sacrifice of that kind could ever be justifiable to her.

"This is where we met before, right?" Davyd's voice cuts through her train of thought. He's stood leaning slightly on the handrail, eyes glued to a picnic table. Recognition.

"Oh. Yeah."

He doesn't move.

Bethan clears her throat, "Uh.. Are you good?" Well obviously not, the man looks like he's seen a ghost. Small talk really isn't her strong suit. She tries again, "Davyd? What's going on."

"Sorry it's... It's nothing." he trails off. He still doesn't move.

Bethan sighs. She walks over to him and leans back on the handrail beside him. Neither of them speak. It's almost peaceful, in a way. That same melody of dockside sounds, ones Bethan was far more accustomed to hearing now they were staying in the city properly.

Davyd turns slowly, not to face her but to face the sea. Watching the waves crash into rock below them.

"I've missed this," he murmers, "I uh don't remember it, obviously, but I think I always loved Grey Harbour. I feel more at home here than anywhere else in the city."

Bethan stares down at the waves. "I get that. The docks were my favourite part of Athkatla. Can't bloody stand sailing but there is something very comforting about the sea."

Davyd cocks his head at her slightly.

Bethan rolls her eyes, "What?"

"You get seasick?"

"Shut your face!"

[idlenight]

(post reveal crash)

Chen: why are you drinking coffee straight out of the pot. You’re gonna get a hole in your stomach drinking that much.

River, pointing at his regene tattoos: im build different.

Chen: unless they gave you a steel stomach i really doubt it.

[tossball-stick]

everyones freaking out over the brothers thing, but they state that they arent actually related, and the term brother for men youre unrelated to has a long homoerotic history. especially during the victorian period, of which piltover is inspired by. you guys dont need canon reasons to ship things, you can ignore canon thats fine to do. regardless, here is another reason you all can ship the yaoi brothers guilt free: they arent actually brothers, therefor you can ship them.

like seriously guys please for the love of god stop acting like you arent allowed to think differently than the show creators and game writers. there is so much LoL lore that im rewriting for myself because it doesnt matter. you can do whatever you want forever, and also riot doesnt care about the games lore whatsoever. even if there are people working on it with love, riot is just forcing another fucking rewrite of all of it. so who cares

this isnt even to mention the fact that the show itself loves to compare and contrast familial and romantic love; the show loves paralleling vi and jinx (familial) to vander and silco (romantic; also!! they call each other brothers!!!! the show itself uses brother as a homoerotic term of endearment!!! you can too), as well as making vi's two choices be between family and romance, with jinx jealous of caitlynn 'replacing' her. again, we are seeing the emphasis of how familial and romantic love are intertwined with each other. like, ultimately this should be its own post, but im trying to make my point here:

jayvik is purposefully vague about its status om whether its romantic or familial love. you can interpret it however you like, thats no sin. what IS the sin is that riot games (allegedly) has a history of doing this with their characters. there are many more instances of LoL characters that are clearly intended to have gay vibes with others of the same gender, but they cant just outright confirm that. fucking. udyr and lee sin come to mind as blatant examples of this, they have extremely gay vibes and lore and dialogue (they even love to be nebulously fused like jayvik), but have no actual word on their relationship. they could genuinely just be really good bros, or they could be gay! its up to you.

in conclusion, if youre letting this stop you from shipping fictional characters: stop it! get some help! have some creativity of your own and make things up that may seem out of character. thats the point of fandom- have fun with it. if youre scared about something not being canon, i have something i regret to tell you: none of your interpretations of either of these characters is anything close to canon!! nobodys is!! theyre our interpretations, so do whats most fun!!

[nono-bunny]

I'm going to puke, not even joking, this makes me feel sick, WHO thought it was a good idea to have Zack Tyler Eisen and Michael DiMartino on a big Zutara episode??

The second season was genuinely like... Really upsetting to listen to, it was just the most squeaky clean, judgment free praise of ATLA ever and of Bryke in particular, which was even more egregious because you can tell Janet and Dante aren't even into it sometimes but they have to sell it and. God I kinda loathed listening to most of it? Idk if I'm gonna bother with season 3 and beyond tbh, this was just. So fucking annoying to listen to in a way season 1 wasn't, and season 3 is 100% deserving of some serious criticism but they literally were incapable of even acknowledging how dumb The Guru is and I just genuinely don't think I'll have the mental capacity to listen to them praise the season that's the most deserving of criticism

God the contemptuous way Mike talks about the Zutara moment... I hate him. Like, fr, why are they allowed to shit so hard on Zutara but no one is allowed to come on the podcast to say how gross Kataang is? It's a vile fucking ship that ruined both characters, and having two Kataangers on a Zutara episode constantly shooting down what the two Zutarian hosts are trying to explain about why people love Zutara just genuinely might be the straw that broke the camel's back for me here. It's just so unclassy and. I hate listening to this so much, but I'm gonna see it through to the end... And then never pick it back up again because I'm not having fun whatsoever

[autumnoakes]

resident evil games are fun because once in a while they just yoink away your player character and stick a new one in front of you and go "here. play as this one for a while"

[aching-joints]

I'm no longer WCIF friendly, unless you're okay with just the creator name, as I've merged package files to make my life easier, unfortunately I do not plan to keep a list of what I have in my merged files and I'm not going to unmerge them everytime just to find what item is what, sorry.

I’m Hem, or Ach, whatever you want to call me. I’m 28, she/her.

Minors DNI.

sideblog - @saccharine-stars, pure fashion, maybe other stuff, dunno, didn't want to flood this account.

My old blog is @h-emera where I wrote a couple of guides when Horses came out, but I didn’t want to flood that account bc ??? so I just left it as is and moved on from it.

I enjoy The Sims 4 and occasionally I’ll post about AFK Journey and even more rarely Life Makeover bc I’m a simp for ally cards. I also sometimes just vent/rant/do whatever. And then there’s my love for Berserk. It’s usually tagged as #berserk so feel free to block that tag if you do not like Berserk.

I like to post CAS screenshots of my babies with random lore sprinkled in. Admittedly it’s been a year long writing project and it’s been fun, but I’m shy, so I don’t post my writing often.

If you don’t like nonsim posting those posts are usually always tagged as #nonsim so you can block that tag.

OC and lore tags:

Currently obsessed with:

Lola ; Augusta ;

Leticia ; Alana ; Jude ; Nicholas ; Ronan ; George ;

Lore Rambles ; Lore ; Gameplay ;

Misc. tags:

AFK Journey ; Life Makeover ; Nonsims ; Hemsnonsense ; Asks ;

CC finds ;

Favorite posts:

I’m a crow and I love shiny

Since i posted that one thing, with plans to post more later:

ToU/FAQ

Yes, you can look at the package files and remake them on your own, if you want to. (I encourage it, what better way to learn than through deconstruction?) Obviously, some creators prefer that you don’t, for me personally, I don’t care — if going through my package files, looking at the structure and trying to understand how it works helps you learn and get into modding, do it.

Yes, you can fix/update it, if I don’t.

Yes, you can message me if you have questions. I’m proficient at lurking through the game files via S4S and breaking my game for fun when I’m bored. If you want to crawl through my brain for ideas, you’re welcome to message me.

No, you cannot re-upload/re-host my files for as long as they’re still hosted on Dropbox. (Google drive links are not me, neither are SFS links).

No, you cannot link to my files through adfly/websites that make profit off of ad traffic, etc.,etc., links. All of my stuff is free, you should not be making profit off of it in any form.

Subject to change/update at any point.

[spikrock]

“All targets down, everyone’s standing. Drinks are on me.”

some mass effect andromeda multiplayer characters that i like. even though i think id prefer being able to make my own characters to play as i do think its cool that all these guys have little backgrounds and stuff

asari duelist, human female vanguard, salarian infiltrator, human female engineer

version with a different 'background' under cut

[phosphorus-noodles]

thinking about fallen angel bards in beautiful hawaiian shirts again btw. if you even care

[ovenproofowl]

Bottom of the Food Chain

The appetite goes first.

No one ever gets that part right. Easy to write off as a million other things. Sickness, stress, change in the wind. Doesn't matter. Point is, food no longer means anything to you.

Probably for the best. Means you can spend more time doing stuff, right? Skip breakfast every day, no need to sit down for lunch. The evening just flies by.

And then you're back.

No need for water, either. Y'know, that basic human right that everyone squabbles over? Not you. Not anymore. Now there's no need for bathroom breaks. You count that as a win, you can never find anywhere private here, anyway. There's always a cubicle closed for one reason or another.

Sometimes you hear whimpering through the cracks.

You don't sleep anymore. Maybe it's the stress.

Nights are wide open now, so they call you in. Extra dosh, shifts wide open that no one else has the right mind to take. But your mind is just right. Ever since you stopped eating.

There's others like you, that's the thing. No one talks about them, those crazy zombie idiots who take 18 hour shifts just to feel alive. Must be snorting a line on the side to power them through, but it's a big company and if the CEOs can do it, who's stopping the little guy?

You sometimes check the mirror just to make sure your face is still there. Been a while since you've felt it. All the muscles have gone numb. You prod and poke at your sagging skin, practically sloughing off bone.

Someone's crying in the cubicle behind you.

Well, the toilet still needs to be used for something, you suppose.

Time's gone all weird. All craggy around the edges. How long have you been here, really? What decades have slipped by past your notice? You're still the same. Can’t eat, can't sleep, but hey, you look good. Bones so prominent it could be Botox, but you don't have the cash to burn on that, no matter how many hours you work.

You work every hour. Home's a distant memory. Friends and family are long gone, left behind or aged out of their skin. Sounds like a personal problem. You don't discuss those anymore, not since the crying moved behind the walls.

Time's no longer kind to you. It happens to us all, eventually. But you were meant to be different. The perfect machine.

You're malfunctioning. We all do. Don't be so hard on yourself.

They don't want you near the execs. Soon, the smell is too much for even their expensive cologne to disguise. They put you on the phoneline for a while, conveniently out of sight, right until your jawbone snaps off and your tongue lolls out and sputters.

No voice, no worries, they can still make use of you yet. You'll clean the floors till your arms waste away and even then, pieces of you can always be repurposed.

We're all about sustainability, here.

The rich always want to live forever, but that gift isn't for them. They don't put their whole body into the company like you, they don't make the same sacrifices. They're envious of you, you know? They'd kill to be as skinny as you are now.

Maybe their names will be immortal, but you, my friend, you are.

Your blood is in this company. You'll never die.

Hey... why are you crying?

[lauronk]

no bonus chapter this year, just a bit of appreciation for the first fic i ever wrote for the last of us, published two years ago today, and everything it's given me since.

🚦 streetlights pointed in an arrowhead 🚦