#although very vague

[yourbuerokrat2]

I did not expect Viren to be the one to break up with Aaravos.

[bogkeep]

reminiscing

[characters siffrin and odile are from in stars and time]

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

i need to figure out how to apply for alumni access to my university's library so i can research the historiography for my phd applications, sure, but more importantly* so i can research sailor superstitions for my sci-fi novel

[nameissmile]

Day seven, lawn decorations

Minor warning of very tall person and no color of the day!

I’ll be real, It‘s a lazy day today. Also I got me a new Halloween sweater so I am very very comfy rn hehe

[leupagus]

OK I promise to stop sharing all of my writing praaahcess, but I did figure out the other day that one other reason this Broadchurch fic is giving me trouble is because I haven't written a ball/dance into the story anywhere and that's frankly shocking

She's sweating a bit, her bloody awful hoodie tied loosely around her waist and revealing a monstrously pink top underneath. Her hair's been shaken loose from its ponytail and the curls are everywhere, spilling over her shoulders and sticking to her neck; even as he watches her she blows a strand out of her face. It immediately falls back to where it was.

"I haven't done that that in ages," she says, still breathless. "Didn't think people still played Tubthumping in clubs."

"It's not a club, it's a school dance," Hardy contradicts, because if he doesn't, he's going to reach out and tuck that strand of hair behind her ear or something equally horrific.

She rolls her eyes. "We're supposed to be chaperones, not pedants." Whatever the new song is, it's at least less frenetic, and those who aren't singing along are sorting themselves out into pairs. He's about to suggest they extricate themselves from the throng of adolescent hormones when she holds out her hand. "When in Rome, I suppose."

He takes it, but he's got no idea what comes next — not until Miller puts her other hand on his shoulder and like that, it's decided; his free hand lands gently at her waist, just above the belted sleeve of her hoodie. He swallows and keeps his eyes fixed on the top of her head.

"Were you and Maggie worried about me spilling my guts to Olly?" Miller asks, as if they're bickering in the car instead of… whatever this is. "Is that why you braved the sea of youths to cut in?"

"Not at all," he says, leaning out of the way of someone behind him, enthusiastically singing about laying down his weapons. It moves them closer together, and he curls their clasped hands in to rest on his heart.

"So Maggie wasn't, but you were," she deduces, infuriatingly; her fingers on his shoulder drum in irritation. "I do know how to keep my gob shut about an investigation, you know. I've had practice."

"I think Maggie just wanted to — what's the phrase?" He nods in their general direction. "Take a turn about the room, sort of thing."

"So she asked you to dance?" Miller scrunches her nose up at him. "Did you tell her you were in no mood to give consequence to ladies slighted by other men?"

"Am I Mr. Darcy now?" he asks, looking down at her. A mistake; her top isn't particularly low-cut, but from this angle he's got more of an eyeful than he ought to have.

Not only that, but she's looking up at him, smiling, and that's far more dangerous. "You'd be an absolutely rubbish Mr. Darcy," she says.

"How d'you mean? I'd be outstanding. I don't like anyone, nor does he."

Miller nods, thoughtful. "That's true. You're broody, so is he."

"And I make even more than ten thousand a year."

"Wa-hey, we've got an eligible bachelor here, lads," she laughs. "Or whatever the line is, a single man of good fortune, in want of a wife."

[fluentisonus]

btw the 18th brumaire of louis napoleon is genuinely a really good read

[bununuu]

just a note that you can read Siegfried's Journey, 1916-1920 (published 1945) on the Internet Archive! https://archive.org/embed/in.ernet.dli.2015.209620 this is the vol where he talks about his relationship with Wilfred (on p. 58-76ish)

apparently people took some offense at the time to how he described Wilfred, but honestly i think it's really sweet :(((

[briankang]

none of the boys promoting the single on their instagram + chan being really very Aha......Anyways! when asked about the creative processs on gma + jisung and changbin being DEEPLY pr statement about it in the billboard interview + chan calling it a sidequest + them barely mentioning the song on bubble outside of a 'aha yeah....hope you like it?' by maybe 3 of them really is telling to me about all of this i do not see this as smth they're deeply thrilled about and are probably looking forward to be done with

[catominor]

still need to get my ass around to reading the rise of rome by kathryn lomas i generally need to learn more about the earlier periods of rome so bad (also novel-related need to learn more about m. furius camillus famous Real Guy who Fictional Guy l. furius camillus is related to...)

[gloriousmonsters]

Mememememe I want to see

please enjoy a selection from you're on a path in the desert, chapter 2: 'The Ancient', brought about by wondering what ganondorf's motivation is and being honest and brash enough he kind of likes you and is like 'sorry, kid' while murdering you to attempt a breakout in the first chapter. narrated by Zelda, starring Link and Ganondorf.

--------

You're on a path in the desert. Or... it's more of a beach, isn't it? You can hear the sea. Small crabs scuttle and hide among rocks smoothed by eons of lapping waves; the pristine sands glitter, here and there, with old coins and jewels set in tarnished metal. Pirate treasures, as if a ship was wrecked here long ago. A lonely blue sky arches high above, unmarred by a single cloud. A path of scattered white rocks, like sun-bleached bones, lead toward the edge of the water. At the end of this path, a man with evil eyes is imprisoned. A king. You, hero, must slay him; or it will be the end of the world.

Voice of the Curious: He didn't seem that bad!

- Yeah, he wasn't as bad as she hyped him up to be.

- Bad? He was very bad! I'm completely on board with the 'slaying' thing now.

- Hang on, how are we here? Didn't we die?

> I see what you mean, but he did very much kill us. That was a thing that happened.

Voice of the Curious: I guess, but he was so... sad. He just wanted to escape. He seemed like he'd been there for a really long time.

> He did.

Excuse me, who's this? And what are you saying about dying? Please don't tell me—

Voice of the Curious : We died and we came back to life!

- More or less.

- I died and it was terrifying and now I'm me and also this other part of me and they're both me and I don't know how that works or what's going on and I'm going to start crying probably

> This isn't the first time we've been here. Your 'man with the evil eyes' was the one that killed me, not the other way around.

He's not mine, and... It wouldn't be the same, the other way around. You need to slay him, not kill him.

- I get it. I'm a human, and he's a monster.

> Semantics.

Very important ones. Listen to me, hero. I hoped that this wouldn't happen, and I didn't want to scare you with the possibility. But please believe me—we're walking a fine line, now. All is not lost, but every failure widens his chance at escape.

Voice of the Curious: Really?

I do not like how you said that. This... voice, whatever it is, it seems very young. Don't let naivety influence you, hero. One failure means he's already found a chink in your armor—it is even more imperative you keep your guard up. Whatever he said, whatever he did, put it out of your mind. Focus on this. He is evil, and he will destroy everything if he escapes. You are the hero, the only one with the power to stop him. I—everything depends on you.

Voice of the Curious : That's a lot of pressure...

- I love pressure.

- I hate pressure.

 > Are you really sure I can do this?

Yes. You’re the only one that can. 

Voice of the Curious: Wow, she sounds... so serious. I don't know if I trust her, but I think she likes you.

Ha. That's... You matter a great deal to me. By definition, of course. You’re the hero, you matter to everyone. But we don't have time to sit here and talk about our feelings, whatever they might be. Your quest is the same, hero. It's time to go forward.

> (proceed to the prison)

N: At the edge of the water, the path of rocks continue—for a little while. Soon they're fewer and farther between, and in their place are footholds of debris, half-rotted hulls of wood, old chests rammed up on some invisible sandbank below the water. There have been many wrecks here, and as you pick your way forward, you see the largest of them up ahead. Splintered and broken, its massive hull impaled on the tall and jagged rocks that rise from the hidden seabed, like towers of some sunken castle. The rest of it is remarkably intact, but it looks ancient. Weathered, by years that have sapped color from cloth and wood and leached memory from material. Every detail blurred. The figurehead is faceless, nearly formless, like the... like the image of a loved one long forgotten.

> Are you all right?

Your path ends—or rather, takes a new form—at the side of the wreck. An old rope ladder leads up the barnacle-encrusted side. The old wood creaks as you ascend, but even that sound is... muted. This ship isn't just wrecked, it's becalmed. The muting of that sound makes you acutely aware of the absence of others. No birds cry in the sky; no fish splash in the water. The land behind you is already lost in a hazy fog. This is a lonely place.

Voice of the Curious: She's making it sound so depressing. It's sad, but it's also sort of cool, right? It's like an old pirate ship! It doesn't feel like a prison, it feels like... like a hideout!

Please be quiet. It's a prison. It might look... odd, but it's a prison.

Voice of the Curious : Do you think there's treasure?

...No.

Voice of the Curious: ...You want there to be treasure too, right?

I'm not interested. We have a very important job to do. To your left, across the weathered deck, a door leads to the fo'c'sle. It's not locked, but it's encrusted with barnacles, warped in its frame. Beside it, a sword is embedded in the wall, as if left there after a battle long ago. It gleams with its own light—

Voice of the Curious: It's not glowing, though. It's just a sword.

It's not—but... Ah. Yes. Well, it doesn't need to glow, does it? It's the hero's sword. It's made to kill evildoers and monsters. It's meant for your hand, and your hand alone. Take up the sword, hero. You'll need it if you want to save us all.

- But it's not glowing. Didn't you say it was important it glowed?

- What if I don't want to save everyone?

> take up the sword

- don't take up the sword

Sword in hand, you force open the door, rusted hinges screeching as you shove your whole body's weight against it. Before you is a sheer drop, lightless, only the first few feet visible in the foggy sunlight that filters past your shoulders. A rope ladder hangs over the ledge at your feet, vanishing into shadow. The air is musty, damp, and smells of moldering spice and rotting silk, wood permeated with gunsmoke and worried by the icy teeth of the ocean over the course of centuries. If this is the prison the king's been confined in, killing him will be a mercy.

His voice echoes up from the darkness, tired but commanding.

The King: I knew you'd return. Come here, boy. Let us speak face to face.

Voice of the Curious: He remembers us! And he sounds... older. I mean, he was already older than us. But he sounds much older now. 

Of course he's old, he's been in prison for a long time. Don't dwell on it or wonder about it, the more time and thought you give him the more dangerous he is. Just get down there and accomplish your quest.

> proceed down the 'stairs'

After what feels like half an hour of nerve-wracking descent, feeling for foot and hand-holds in the darkness, light begins to bloom below you. When you come to the bottom, a few minutes later, you find yourself facing another door—this one richly carved wood, remarkably well-preserved considering the state of the ship. It's hard to make out much in the light filtering through the cracks around it, but you can see intricate, geometric patterns, and the snarling face of a boarlike beast carved huge in the very center.

Voice of the Curious: What—

You waste no time fooling around and asking questions, and open the door. Striding within, you find yourself confronted with a surprisingly lavish room, dimly lit by old oil-lamps. Rich rugs cover the floor; a huge bed stands in the back of the room, partly hidden by curtains, and a huge desk carved with intricate details dominates another side of the room. Tapestries, paintings and maps nearly cover the walls, save for a section that seems dedicated to a number of weapons—at a glance you see twin swords and a trident. Everything feels a little... oversized, as if you're a child venturing into the room of an adult. When you look closer, you can see signs of wear and age—cracking paint, books with pages puffed by soaking and drying out, scratches in the fine wood and dust on the tapestries—but the overall effect is still opulent, overwhelming. This feels right for a prison meant to confine a king; it would be suitable for an emperor, confined to his office by the new regime, allowed to keep a pretense of dignity.

But across the room from you, there's a strangely bare section of the wall, interrupted by only two things: A porthole filled more by spiderwebbing cracks than glass, showing only blank darkness, and the King, who stands tall and studies you thoughtfully with pale gold eyes.

The King: You approach me, yet again, with your blade in hand. Interesting.

He's a big man, broad and heavy, a physique that might impress as brutish or sedentary if not for the way he holds himself. Straight-backed, imperious, with a hint of a fighter's grace in the way his stance shifts as his eyes track the step you take forward. There's no gray in his hair, or deep wrinkles on his face, but something about him gives an impression of great age and greater weariness. His face is craggy, but his eyes are delicately lined with black; he wears a topaz on his brow, and fine robes that inspire ideas of entrenched and confident authority. As he seems to reach an internal resolution in his appraisal of you, his teeth bare in what is hard to determine as a mocking smile or a grimace of pain.

The King: I suppose that if you try to kill me this time, it will only be fair. But I'd rather we talk.

Voice of the Curious: Ooh, talk! Yes! I want to know what's going on! Just, um, maybe we should stay at a distance.

Remember what you're here for. Don't listen to him, or him. Please, hero. Kill him now.

- slay the king

- kill him?

- You killed me last time, I'd like an apology before we do anything else.

> All right. Let's talk.

[rpfisfine]

MY DAD JUST TEXTEDME ???????FGBGGH123;&/@& “what’s going on with RPF? still no video?”

[braxiatel]

👀

-🍂

From a oneshot I didn’t finish, based on this conversation I had with @loombarrow

“I need you to come with me tell Scar that you don’t eat redstone,” Grian crossed his arms, the early makings of a vindictive smile already on his face.

“Erh… why?” Mumbo asked slowly.

“Cub told him all redstoners do, and he won’t believe me when I say it was obviously a prank.”

Mumbo looked at the builder, waiting for him to smile or laugh, or reveal in some other way that this was a joke.

“But… I do eat redstone, Grian,” he said slowly. “You’ve seen me do it.”

Grian narrowed his eyes.

“Is this a prank? Something you’re all in on? Because you know I’ll get revenge if it is. And I won’t go easy on you, either.”

“I could ask you the same, mate,” Mumbo told him. “I don’t see how you couldn’t have known. You were sitting right across from me at breakfast.”

The two of them stared each other down for several long moments before horrified realisation showed on Grian’s face.

“Your special sugar…”

“…My what?” Mumbo asked.

“The one you won’t let me try. The red stuff.”

“The redstone, yes.”

“I thought it was… sweetberry flavour or something,” Grian protested.

He shook his head.

“Mumbo I need you to stand still and look me in the eyes.” He placed a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder, pushing down with a surprising amount of force until Mumbo’s knees buckled and he found himself at Grian’s eye level “–Now tell me that you are aware that redstone is radioactive and bad for you and that you definitely would not eat it on your breakfast every single morning.”

Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can do the first two, for what it’s worth,” he offered.

“Mumbo K Jumbo!” Grian exclaimed. “Why would you eat it if you know it’s bad for you?”

“Erh… can I stand up again? My legs are starting to cramp.”

“Oh, yes, creators forbid your legs cramp a little while you tell me about all of the radioactive substances you ingest on a daily basis.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes. It really wasn’t such a big deal! Everyone knew that to get really good with redstone, you had to eat it. Practically redstone 101.

“I mean, I have to, don’t I? That’s how you get it to work,” he explained. Then, with a chuckle, he added: “It’s not like matters much for my health anyway. With how much I get exposed to it just sitting around my farms, I could bathe in redstone without it making a statistical difference.”

Not that he would recommend doing that. He shuddered, thinking about the time he tried to build a redstone-powered shower and it went very, very wrong. If you thought glitter was hard to wash out…

Oddly enough, Grian was looking even more horrified than before, but Mumbo was certain he had not seen him try out that particular contraption. Silently Grian reached out and took his hand, tugging him towards the door.

“Grian, I have things to do,” he protested.

“Nuh-uh,” Grian tutted. “We are going to find a real adult, and they can explain to you why, once again, eating radioactive waste is not good for you.”

(ask meme!)

[roxyteal]

cats or dogs, part 2

(This one's a bit long)

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) So, um… Cats or dogs?

Viktor🎭 (@VSTROBOVSKI) You came all the way to my office just to ask me that?

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) … Yes? Sorry, I realize it's not very, uh… Professional…

Viktor🎭 (@VSTROBOVSKI) Holy shit. You Daves are funny as fuck. You never cease to amaze. Anyway, cats.

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) … I see.

---

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Cats or dogs? Are you asking me a riddle?

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) N-No ma'am, absolutely not! I'm just curious!

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Hmmm, then… Cats.

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Oh, okay.

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Why, what about you?

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) I… Haven't decided.

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Oh don't worry, you will. Ahhh! There's my cuppa Joe!

usernameidfk🥃 (@JOE_5) (why… why would you say that so openly, oh my fucking God… oh. it's just a Dave. nevermind.) yeah, yeah.

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Hey, don't disappear yet! I've got to ask you something now.

usernameidfk🥃 (@JOE_5) what.

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Mr. 82 over here brought up a good point of conjecture! Joe. Cats. Or dogs.

usernameidfk🥃 (@JOE_5) (??? what the hell's got into you all of a sudden???) uh. cats? i guess? (though i don't think i can be trusted with that kind of responsibility…)

TheIambicPentameter🖊️(@MISSBALDINA) Wow, that's what I said! So. Cats!!

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Ah, alright. Um, thank you both for your time!

---

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) lmao what like. as in pets?

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Y-… Yes.

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) ok, gotcha hmmmmmm hang on one sec lemme think

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Oh, sure.

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) (Maybe he's like me…?) Hey, uh, it's okay if you don't know!

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) nonono i got this man just gimme a minute!!!

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Okay…!

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) … ok i got it cats theyd probably eat the fish i bring home!

Dave_Oddity!🧰 (@DAVE_82) Ah… Fair enough. Thank you! (Why is that the popular option?)

MediterraneanWaves🦈 (@DENIEDCELLAR) no problem! see ya dave dude!!!

[tathrin]

As you may or may not already know, I've been slowly chipping away at a Celebrimbor joins the Fellowship AU for a while now, and I finally have the general plot hashed-out and the first chapters written, which means it's technically at a point where I can start posting it...but. it is a very slow sort of story to write. (There are a lot of Plot Things to juggle.) So updates will not come fast! However, I also feel like I've been sitting on it forever already...

So I ask: should I start posting this thing, with the understanding that it will be an incredibly show updater? Or should I wait?

*I'll be out of town until late Sunday night, so if I don't respond to things for a while I promise it's not because you've offended me, I'm just not likely to be able to get online for a few days! But please do feel free to blather at me if you have anything to say.

Thank you for the help!

[supahstarrr]

as a dr fan we need to acknowledge that some of the danganronpa characters suffer through chronic liners for bad humor by out-of-touch old guy writers syndrome

[automatonknight]

*stumbles out of the video game covered in blood* have you guys heard of sigcorp