#RIP THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY

[salamispots]

speedrunning a bday gift for bb nephew hjdfgjh

[in-asterism]

Arcobaleno from @trilies 's Sevenfold AU

[north-noire]

🏳️‍🌈 + Henry!!!

I time-traveled all the way back to the past just to give the mug to him. He did not understand what the colors were on the mug but he found them cool, so that's a win? Based on that one photo meme of Caseoh carrying a mug with the trans flag on it lol. Happy Pride Month! Ask Game Link Here

[tangents-within-tangents]

Thinking about the song "Ship in Port" by Radical Face and clones

Thinking about the line "Farewell to the chains we were born into" and what that can mean for the clones

Thinking about how "But I have always stayed in place/Under that old illusion that it's safe" could equally describe Hunter, Echo, and (s1+2) Crosshair's complete opposite approaches to the Empire and post-war life.

The way Crosshair clings to his identity as a soldier of the Empire

And Echo as a soldier of the Republic

But Hunter puts his identity as a soldier behind him

Crosshair fights for the Empire to gain purpose

Echo fights against the Empire to save his brothers

And Hunter decides the Empire is too strong to even try to oppose

"A ship in port is a safer one"

"but it's not the reason it was made"

"So forgive me if I wander off"

"And forgive me more if I just stay"

Thinking about what The Bad Batch could have been if it had more fully explored the differences between those ideologies

(Thinking about what The Bad Batch could have been if it had dedicated more screen time to the 'reg' clones within the Empire and the underground network's fight to free them , instead of just sidelining Echo and Rex for a hypothetical clone rebellion show we might never get)

[chipthekeeper]

ANDOR credits + concept art

[wyvernity]

wip posting just to get something out there, and it's def a mixed bag!! the only thing more inconsistent than my posting schedule is my art style RIP

[svtskneecaps]

lukewarm take of the evening: y'all care too much about being ""outdated"". fellas this smp moves inhumanly fast. it is ok to CHILL holy shit CHILL. y'all are like "(posts BANGER ART) super late guys sorry" friend i am hitting you with a blanket i am snapping you with my metaphorical towel WHAT DO YOU MEAN SORRY. "(posts BANGER FIC) rip this is outdated now" WHO CARES???? I LOVE YOU, OK. ohhhh woe is us as the fandom at large for having MORE HAPPY PILLS ARC CONTENT oh no how outdated!! how could you be writing speculative fiction about how forever felt during happy pills :( slash SARCASM!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!!!! THERE ARE SO MANY BANGER ARCS, WHAT, YOU THINK WE'RE COMPLAINING????? FOR GETTING MORE OF THE CONTENT WE LOVED????? oh no we're past the period where everyone thought green gay ninjas were like Dead Dead, my work is now outdated and noncanon :( WDYM. GIMME. A BANGER IS A BANGER IDC IF IT TAKES THREE MONTHS. you think rome was built in a day?? fuck you, baltimore, GIMME. my ass has been cooking a goddamn backflipo family fic since july when it was ALREADY outdated do you think i fear god??? "oh no, you're making an edit of slime's (attempted) egg murdering spree?? how could you, that was months ago it's irrelevant" SAID NO ONE EVER.

save your wrists kidlings ok carpal tunnel is no joke. CHILL!!!!! CHILL!!!!!!!! TAKE YOUR TIME SHEEEEEESH OK LOVE YOU <3

[spookygibberish]

Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.

The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.

A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.

[tastydoge]

WOODLUCE WOODLUCE WOODLUCE WOODLUCE!!!!! and Walters there too! WALTER WALTER WALTER WALTER!! WOODLUCE WALTER WOODLUCE AND WALTER IS THERE WALTER AND WOODLUCE!!!

“What was she like?”

“

“What was she like?”

It’s a simple question. Walter, being the kid he is, probably holds no weight to the question like Woodie himself does; he does not see the significance of what he’s just asked Woodie to divulge.

The question hangs in the air for some time, and the quiet stretches on between them. Silence is a long-forgotten notion here in the forest, but its closest relative is quiet, Woodie’s found. The river below them rushes by with no less fervor than it did before the query was laid, and the wind rustling the pine needles above their heads continues like it didn’t hear it. Birds chip in the distance, the squirrels high in their trees continue with their adept nest-making, and deer far away continue to graze mindlessly on their grass.

It’s as if nothing happened, to everything else. But not to Woodie.

What was she like?

What wasn’t Lucy like?

Lucy, his other half. His darling wife. His best friend and only confidant, the only one with whom he could truly be himself.

He thinks back to those long nights, long before he’d known Walter or anyone else he’s now come to call his companion. Those nights where he hadn’t yet learned to control the plague that afflicts him, not under the full moon’s light. He thinks back to all of those lovely, quiet dinners shared in a cabin all by their lonesome, all of the nights spent getting to know each other, every single inch of the other’s body, and all of the nights they’d sat up until sunrise talking. They’d shared the good, the bad, and the ugly together, and they’d always come out… together. Flaws and all.

Especially Woodie’s.

For months he’d tried keeping his unfortunate affliction from her, always feigning some excuse, saying this-that-or-another kept him held up from plans around the full moon.

Lucy, the sharp woman she was, caught on rather fast.

“Woodie,” she’d chide, “Don’t you lie to me! You always get weird around this time.”

“‘S just a coincidence, dear,” he’d say. “I’ve got some important business goin’ on, ‘n’ I’d appreciate it if you'd let it go.”

And she did, for a while.

Nonetheless, about a year in, the inevitable happened.

Woodie had stumbled into their cabin, late for yet another one of their nights together, after a particularly rough transformation where he’d come head-to-head with a moose.

Lucy, who had been sitting downtrodden in the kitchen in front of a cold meal, shrieked.

“What happened to you!?” She’d shouted, rushing over to him. He’d been covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, but most prominently, a large gash actively leaking blood from the top of his head.

“There was – agh – a moose – hnng – didn’t like me goin’ near her calves too much. Honest mistake, eh?” Woodie’s lie is obvious even to him, and his nervous smile and slurred speech are surely not helping.

“Woodie, I’ve damn near had enough of this!” She’d yelled, wrapping a portly arm around his shoulders to drag him forward towards the bedroom. “Sit down!”

She’d left him on the bed to stare at the moonlight forest through their window, contemplating his life choices and what lay in the future. He wondered if there was even a chance to come back from this, or if his overconfidence in his fighting skills had just ruined the best thing he’d ever had.

Sometime later, Lucy had returned to break him out of his daze. With her, she brought a bucket of water, a roll of gauze, and rage.

“This is the third time you’ve gone out for a day and came back half-dead! Either you tell me right now what’s going on, or… Ugh! You don’t wanna find out what I’ll do to you!” She had squeaked, and, despite the severity of the situation, Woodie had chuckled. She was so cute when she was worried…

That was the wrong move, apparently, as she continued to seethe.

“Hold still,” she’d commanded, voice dripping with fury, then dipped some of the gauze into the bucket and wrung the water out.

“Start. Talking.”

Woodie released a resigned sigh. As she’d tended to his wounds, Woodie had reluctantly spilled everything through gritted teeth. For once, Lucy just listened.

Her silence was eerie, and it signified the worst: that it was over. He just knew it was the end, that she would call him a lunatic and run for the trees, and it no longer was a matter of when.

And yet…

“That’s it?” She’d finally asked, breaking her silence once he was done. “All of this secrecy, just because you’re sick?”

It seemed like she hadn’t gotten it all the way, but she was trying. He wasn’t surprised about that part; if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t get it either. The part that struck him was that Lucy wasn’t disgusted, or God forbid scared. Those were the worst possible outcomes, and somehow, they’d been avoided.

But boy, was she angry.

“I can’t believe you hid it from me for that long! I would’ve at least tried to help you, you know,” she’d chastised. Once she’d finished patching him up, she’d commanded him to lay down.

“Now, I’m going to bring you dinner, you’re going to eat it, sleep, and then we’re going to talk about this in the morning. Got it?” she’d sternly said. She had her arms crossed, still in her day clothes, her hair messy and her forearms covered with splatters of his blood, and Woodie realized what being in love was like right then and there.

Beneath the layers of anger and frustration, Woodie saw real concern and compassion from the woman in front of him. It’s what surprised him the most. It’s what drew him to her from day one, and on that day, his mind was made.

Loud? Bossy? A little bit mean? Kind of screechy? Lucy was all of those things.

She was also loving, sweet, doting, and kind.

All of those things were things Woodie had come to love about her in the time before they were… separated. He’d come to love her and everything about her. Every feature, every flaw, and everything in between were all things that Woodie had grown to adore. The way she squeaked when she yawned, the way she hated to eat alone, the way she moved around in her sleep like a dancer… All of it.

Even the things about her that frustrated him were things he’d grown to love, and doubly so now that he didn’t ever get to experience them again.

What was she like?

Being around her was like the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen, all of the most vibrant warm tones swirling into a picturesque moment for your eyes and your eyes alone. She was like the freshest water, refreshing and energizing to behold. She was like the finest wine, leaving the most exquisite finish on your tongue that left you wishing for just one more sip, buzz be damned. She felt like the best rest after a long day of work, like the feeling of letting your sore muscles have a break when all was said and done. She was like like a warm fire after a freezing day, she was like the reprieve from a hellacious thunderstorm, and she was like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Or since.

Woodie looks down at Walter with sad eyes.

“She… She was perfect. There’s no one else like ‘er.”

-----

For no particular reason, I feel like pinging @notnotstarving. Nooo reason at all, haha.

[crystaleclipse10]

idk if this has been done already but here's a bracket of the known battles in the Tournament of the Sources

Some names are just elements or "cragling" cause we have no idea who they are lol

did neuro just like...show up late or smth

hope this helps :D

thank you ninjago wiki for saving so much time figuring out all the fight

[skibasyndrome]

dangling my fic docs in front of myself so I get through my work

[dsofi427]

Lmao I'm pretty sure they killed Gideon just to make Reid suffer 💀💀💀

[remnri]

xiao birthday yippee!

[hemo--havoc]

On my hands and knees BEGGING for Kharmi in 3C please please please please

3C from this.

[imtrashraccoon]

Wait... IS THAT ERROR THAT I HEARD?! UH TUMBLE!!!

Please be careful if that was, indeed, Error. Oh, and can I have some bread too????

It seems like the bread has already been consumed...eight months ago.

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[goldenmacchio]

Too Much Sun (1990)