#a hundred years later i got TO THIS

[ladysnows]

@dioica said: 'why do you say things like that?'

❝     this  is  the  north  .  .  .     ❞     where  the  winters  were  harsh  and  unforgiving,  and  not  just  anyone  could  survive  without  aide.  winterfell  stood  as  a  monument  to  what  can  be  accomplished,  the  beating  heart  of  her  family,  separate  from  westeros  with  a  lord  that  sat  upon  a  dais  and  never  once  called  himself  king.  viserys  respected  that,  rhaenyra  would  honor  it,  but  the  usurper?  fragile  ―  ego  weary?  would  not.  their  ways  would  flounder,  die  with  a  gasp,  and  not  a  single  person  who  relied  upon  the  north's  fortitude  was  ready  for  that.     ❝     -  we  have  our  beliefs  and  legends  as  much  as  any  targaryen.  why  do  you  think  the  night's  watch  exists?     ❞     so  that  the  seat  of  ultimate  power,  the  beloved  iron  throne  a  war  was  being  fought  over,  could  stay  just  as  it  was.     ❝     our  dead  are  always  burnt  and  nobody  goes  beyond  the  fucking  wall.     ❞

[chiropteracupola]

"The land was lost; the world was lost as well... the world is upside down ... and there is no remedy in this kingdom." — Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, trans. David Frye

[⚬⚬⚬⚬⚬𐂂, requested by anonymous]

[squisheebugdoodles]

Okay Here Is The Problem: everything costs money and yet money is something that i just literally never have. solution? kill the idea of money so that nothing costs anything Please. i'm so tired

[lae-zels]

mr house never being able to replicate his courier six because they never let him scan them, so all he has are a few shoddy recordings he took to recreate the courier from. his replicas of courier six are flawed: none are as perceptive, resourceful and proactive. they aren't good at out-of-the-box thinking or improvising. their problemsolving, diplomacy skills and technological innovation ideas fall short of the original and are just another disappointment every time. they end up hollow shells like jane, marilyn and victor. letting new vegas go, ruin itself in pursuit of recreating his perfect right hand again, hope for another fruitful partnership and bright future of the mojave like they did before is so delicious it makes me sick actually send tweet ✌

[pumpkingeorge]

[vynnyal]

Unga bunga these take 3 hrs to make

[skyloftian-nutcase]

It had been two weeks since it was all over. They’d spent the majority of their time in Kakariko Village. Impa had been gentle and fastidious in her care of the princess, and Link felt a little out of place at the sight of it – the two remembered each other, remembered everything of the past. Impa could tell Zelda of what had happened since, and Zelda could be nostalgic with Impa. Link could really offer neither, he supposed, though he’d seen more of Hyrule nowadays than Impa had.

Despite all of this, though, both Link and Zelda struggled. Link spent his spare time sparring or traveling the area, resting in Hateno, helping the villagers in both places. Zelda just… rested. After two weeks, even Impa was showing signs of uncertainty and worry. Link didn’t know what to do.

The swordsman sighed as he kicked a pebble into a pond, watching a frog hop away. He had so little understanding of the past, he felt useless to help. But at the same time, he just felt useless, period. His entire purpose and life mission when he’d woken up, the main goal he’d built his entire identity around, was over. Zelda spent a hundred years holding the Calamity at bay and now it was over.

It was over.

And they were both left with… they didn’t even know.

Maybe that was the issue, then. Neither knew what to do now. Neither knew how to move forward after they’d spent so long being stuck in the past.

Well, Link wasn’t quite stuck in the past. He couldn’t remember it. Maybe that was why it still seemed to hold him hostage. Either way, the wounds of the Calamity were everywhere, whether it was remembered or not.

Link stared at his reflection in the water. Now what?

He sighed, falling into a seated position in front of the pond. The frog from earlier landed on a lily pad. He watched it aimlessly, mind restless and heart hurting. As he watched it, the world seemed to fade around him, his body growing light, and he recognized the feeling, the sensation, and his eyes widened a hair – he… hadn’t had new memories trying to resurface since the Calamity had been defeated.

Link took a small, shaky breath, letting his mind go where it wanted to, drifting into the past.

He’s home. The lighting is a little dim since it’s raining. There are sniffles by the stairway, and he feels the need to go to them, but whispers to his left catch his attention.

“Til, this is ridiculous. A funeral for a frog? Really?”

“Honey, she loved that frog!”

“She saw it for maybe a few weeks, didn’t she?”

“Yes, and she loved it! She even named it.”

His father sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re proposing we hold a funeral. For a frog that lived by the pond for a few weeks. Because Lyra is upset that it died.”

“That’s exactly what I’m proposing,” his mother replies.

“Til, everything dies, if we held a funeral for every single thing we’d be mourning our entire lives.”

“This isn’t about mourning, Abel,” his mother argues. “It’s about learning to close a chapter of your life and move forward. She’s young, this is a good way for her to learn this.”

His father watches her skeptically and then sighs again. “Very well.”

His mother smiles and nods, heading towards the stairs and kneeling, blocking someone from view as she speaks softly. His father approaches him, and he stands a little straighter, eyes watching him with unspoken curiosity.

“Well,” his father huffs. “I suppose we should put on our formal attire for this, seeing as it’s an important affair.”

He catches himself midway into smiling, unsure if this is an actual joke or a grumble, but the wink he gets from his father make shim relax. He nods and the pair go their separate ways, and the world fades and spins dizzyingly for a moment before he finds himself standing outside. He and his father are dressed in colorful regalia, a hat keeping his head warm in the damp air. His mother is wearing dark, somber clothes, and he sees a little girl—his sister—holding a candle in front of the pond. He can’t hear the words being spoken, or even tell if there are words being spoken, but somehow, he feels… at peace.

Link gasped, startled as he opened his eyes, cheeks chilled by tear tracks that had half dried. For a moment he just sat there, processing what he’d just seen. That was—he’d seen his—

He shook his head. Somehow… that felt…

He glanced up at the sky and looked beyond it, his heart racing, and he struggled to catch his breath before looking back down at the pond.

Grief over a family he didn’t know anymore welled up inside him, but the lesson they’d taught him burned even more. He rose, taking a steadying breath, clenching his fists and closing his eyes as the tears fell.

He knew what they needed to do.

The next day, Link and Zelda stood at Fort Hateno, flowers in the princess’ hands, Link dressed in his freshly cleaned champion garb. The pair looked out over the field and all its wreckage.

Zelda took a shaky breath, and stepped forward, as if she were getting ready to address a crowd of people, as if the dead were all standing there waiting. Link felt as if they were, he felt the gravity of the situation sitting heavily on his shoulders.

At the same time, though, he felt… good. This felt right. And he…

The images of his memory came unbidden, of faces he barely knew in his mind but knew in his heart.

They’d lost so many.

“Calamity Ganon… is gone,” Zelda said, her voice thick but growing stronger. “The plague that destroyed our land is no more. So you… you all can rest. We thank you for your sacrifices, we mourn you for your loss, we beg for forgiveness that it… that it took this long.”

Link stepped forward, his shoulder brushing hers. When she glanced at him, he offered a smile. No more regrets, Zelda. This isn’t about that.

Zelda seemed to read that in his expression, and she nodded, closing her eyes.

“It’s over,” she whispered, kneeling and placing flowers by a stone they’d found and decided to use for the occasion. “It’s over.”

And for the first time in two weeks, Zelda cried. And for the first time in his living memory, Link cried.

And as the sun set and their tears dried, they smiled, and moved on together.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

sorry i didn't get through more of those asks guys i'm not having the bestest time today?

[realnielsbohr]

listening to im just your problem knowing bubblegum and marceline had a nasty breakup makes me a little crazy in the head

[gontagokuhara]

Connor what if pointy objects made me go back and rework an old post game v3 fic I wrote but never let see the light of day

DO IT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ WE ARE CRINGE BUT WE ARE FREE RETURN TO OUR ROOTS

[crehador]

hell yeahhhhh

[marim-bruh]

How tf were we all involved in music in high school and so hardcore about it but they didn't teach us the importance of proper stretching and warming up

[lanliingwang]

Suddenly thinking about the Illya Castle event commentary tls with one of them being Jiang Ziya warning the kid Heroic Spirits about the spicy mapo tofu...god. lowkey dad moments in my mind (is reading too much into this as usual)

[truethes]

in all the years before the murder of the count, and all the years after his passing, none of the serv.amps could never truly tell you who sleep.y ash is.

for both old chil.d and doub.t doubt, he was simply considered an accomplice and fellow believer of the count's ideals. old chil.d in the end, recognises him as a victim the same way he was, whereas doub.t-doubt ends up merely assessing how safe his status is. any further records of them returning do not seem to be mentioned. the mother, in this instance, is different; she holds no expectations of him, and simply recalls him as someone who is spoken about with fondness. it is uncanny, in this instance, that she may consider him a monster in a similar font to her, but it's never brought up. out of all the sv's, she is simply the most distant - the narrative furthest from just figuring out what her brother is supposed to stand for.

it's world e.nd and lawl.ess who have the most interesting dynamics in comparison to this. from the counts words and explanations, it's noted that sleepy a.sh is considered something of an icon to them. for lawl.ess, it is emphasised by the count that he is an individual prone to being 'lonely' (very similar to how lawl.ess was as a human) and that he was someone the count considered close to family. it's il.dio who takes another approach to it, the count affirms to him that sleepy as.h is strong. that he is capable of all the things world en.d wants. they both meet sleepy a.sh, who completely tries hie best to quash those opinions, quash their high thoughts, but simply gets mistranslated in the process. to put it simply, he is still softhearted, and they both definitely come back, over and over again if only to have these opinions crushed without understanding why. it's only when they uncover the whool and uncover their grief, do they come to understanding the truth. they didn't know him fully, they never understood their brother- and that, is why, he is always a question left between all their guilt and grief:

all of lov.e, in this instance, is the one who comes to understand what is happening the most - for the ser.vamps, the count will always describe sleepy a.sh as the ideal, he is the prodigy in which is supposed to help them all find the answers to the questions that plague them till their final breaths. this, in turn, makes him the perfect being to understand. he understands parts of his psyche and mannerisms, enough to manipulate the situation in his favour and exploit a.sh to be on his side. what he knows, better than anyone else though, is a truth that none of the others seem to pick up, not even sleepy a.sh himself until countless years passed: the sleepy a.sh and kur.o we meet for the majority of the series is never his full, complete self.

there is no genuine mask or act, nor does he choose to hide his whole simply because of one thing. not long after he became a serv.amp, not long after he met gear, he begged for one thing: that flower, the removal of the demon - he removed part of himself from the beginning. in hope to get rid of it for good.

[chaser]

While I'm posting here and no longer under any obligation to rep the company, I might as well share this incredibly funny story from behind the scenes that I don't think ever got out: Due to the constant problems we had around "The Chaser" being also a name of a sex thing online (you would not BELIEVE the kind of confused fan mail I had to sort through), in 2019 we had very seriously planned to rebrand our online channels.

After a laborious process whittling down hundreds of potential names we settled on another alcohol related term, a popular Australian slang term for wine, as we thought that was in the spirit of "The Chaser" but also uniquely Australian.

Literally the only reason we didn't end up rebranding was the whole company fell into an omnishambles in 2020, and we were all too busy both figuratively and literally putting out fires to even think about doing a full company rebrand.

And that, my friends, is how The Chaser through sheer dumb luck, managed to avoid what would have gone down as possibly one of the worst company rebrands in the history of everything, when that same name came to mean something else VERY different a few years later:

[shut-up-danny-kun]

I actually do wish Spirk was canon, but I want it to be entirely off-screen and just mentioned by other characters as a matter of fact. Like 'hey, did you know Starfleet only ever made one exception to their fraternization policy, and that was to allow Spock to serve under Kirk when they got married?' Or maybe there's a planet that's populated by Vulcan-Terran hybrids and everyone knows that it was founded by those two because the conditions were good for both species. No, Kirk wasn't the youngest captain in Starfleet, the record was actually beaten by his daughter Saavik two decades later. People say she struggled to live up to her parents' fame, poor thing. A hundred years later Kirk and Spock's messages to each other are published in two tomes. The High Council deems them so inappropriate that they're banned on Vulcan, et cetera.

Any depiction of Spirk on screen would be inherently disappointing because it's straight up impossible to live up to sixty years of fan-made content. The only way to make it good is to incorporate it into the lore and arouse even MORE speculation and fan-made content.

Feel free to disagree, though...if you could make Spirk canon, how would you do it?