#but bearly visible

[jollycryptid]

Redaar's Wonderful Time In The Lowland Shore. He loves it there :)

[atomeequark]

12/11 older(means the (bearly visible) stubble) remake face again

reading ikea brochure

[aether-link]

Just preparing for QCC but I wanted to share this, seeing the concept art on Amir too the final design. I also seen another post that I thoroughly enjoyed because ✨anatomy✨ but, I noticed for infected parts on Amir and just want to pinpoint/share, please don’t yell at me.

Most of these parts are covered up and protected with armour, obviously protection from high speeds and friction and genuine safety. But look at his knees, they are elongated/mutated from infection. As well as his hands. His hands show the electrical pits that conducts his electricity (obviously lol) but on both sides of his hands, under the upper palm and on top of his knuckles. The pink I went with really shows the infested flesh and I think that’s really neat too see.

Another thing I noticed, respectfully (I want to mention that other persons post with his codpiece! It’s interesting!) but, bringing up his codpiece again. Just like his knees, I see that the groin is also elongated with the armour protecting the area. You can just see it if you look for yourself, it just bearly visible but can be seen! It’s funny on how that area is also affected. 😭

Also another thing I’ve noticed on all of them, non of them wear pants. Because their skin is all hardened like metal and covered by something else. So. Yeah. No pants baby ✨😎

[superums]

why do i cry — 42! miles prt 2.

spidey!reader. angst with happy ending. for general audiences. (cannon) character death. no y/n. childhood friends to crush to enemies to lovers. no official confession but a official confession. part 2 of this fic. somewhat of a accidental confession trope

color coded text: miles. you/spidey.

inspired by: why do i cry - margo guryan

"miles?" you felt like throwing up all over again, looking at the boy you've loved for almost all your life talking down to you. you were almost living the worst day of your life all over again.

you closed your eyes, expecting another barrage of punches only to be met with a hand grabbing your mask. you grabbed his arm but you were too weak to stop him.

in a instant your face was met with the cold snowflakes falling from the sky. readjusting your eyes you saw him standing over you. time stood still—what was a few seconds felt like years, decades.

your body loved faster then your mind did, snatching your mask, you put it back on before leaving him in your wake.

that entire week you genuinely felt sick with heart break. your mother tried to get you out of bed many times but she each time she came your face was wet with fresh tears.

you couldn't tell her why, you didn't want anyone else thinking less of you. instead you told her "i just need time.. please."

she gave you space, cooking your favorite meal every single day until you felt better and each time you did think you were getting better, the image of miles standing over you would come back making you feel sick all over again.

in the four weeks it was almost like you stopped existing from anyplace but your bedroom and in your absence crime started to pick up again, and so did the complaints from the media.

"some hero spidey is huh? kingpin robs bank after bank and that useless web-head is nowhere to be found?! new york this just shows we can't trust that sorry excuse of a hero for anything!"

jonah jameson yelled into his camera—he wasn't alone. from all over new york, anchors were throwing every professional name they could think of at you, miles felt like he was the blame.

in the weeks you've been gone his mind has yet to calm. he was about to kill you, if he didn't take off your mask theres no telling what he would've done.

he's been trying to stay away from you, but now crime is risen and theres been several threats that someone is going to attack the brooklyn bridge he knew he had to find you.

now he's standing in your bedroom. he almost stopped breathing as he stopped your still frame. walking closer, he sat next to your feet gently as he could. it took him forever before he opened his mouth.

"i..." he looked at his gauntlet. "i'm sorry for what i did... what i said." the lack of light of your room hid his the sick look on his face. your eyes were wide open and watering slightly as you saw his dark figure from the moonlight outside.

"i did believe what they said about you—how you killed my father... how you're a murderer... a cowardly killer. maybe since it was....maybe since it was him, it was easier for me to believe." you almost felt sick as you saw him wiping his face and sniffling; he was trying not to cry.

you listened as miles talked to himself out loud; he says that he didn't know how to handle jeffs death and that uncle aaron was the only person he felt like he could turn to.

that he worried his mom because he's out so late and bearly talks to anyone anymore but he has to provide for her now that his dads gone.

it takes him a while to stop talking and after that he sits in your room in silence almost like he was going to say something else, instead he heads to your window.

your open eyes stared into the darkness corners of your room as you contemplated stopping him. you wanted to let him go, you wanted to hate him but your heart wouldn't allow it—grabbing his hand you stopped him in his tracks.

whipping his head to face you, you stood on your knees in your bed, you were visibly disheveled, even shaking as you held his hqnd. "miles, i....." you were fighting back vomit and tears as you looked at the boy you love.

it didn't seem appropriate, he just confessed he wanted to kill you because of the news and that he wanted to make you pay—but you can't hold this in any longer. for as long as you could remember you've wanted to confess to him, now this might be the last time you see him ever you have to get it off your chest.

"miles...i like you—no i love you... even after what you said to me on that roof top." it felt like the world stopped for both you and him, his heart fastened as he stared at you. you closed your eyes, expecting him to leave, to say he had a girlfriend even laugh again you but instead you were met with a hug.

his gloved hand rubbed your back and his head burring itself into your shoulder. "i don't know what i'd do if you didn't..." you two cradled each other for a while before separating to look each other in the eyes. "i didnt mean to hurt you." he says after a moment.

holding your hand, he walked you to your window before opening it again. you squeezed his tighter as you saw him get ready to leave. kissing your cheek, he began to climb out of it. "i'll come see you after school... make sure you're dressed, imma take you somewhere." "y-yeah okay."

your legs felt like jelly as you watched him leave. heading back to your bed, you layed on your back for a moment before turning on your stomach and kicking your feet. "i better hurry up and get to bed.. i have a date tomorrow."

taglist: @lunagalaa @awow-2 @coffeeandtealol

[sol-rambles]

more on pro mawn zam :3 thanks @pollocks for main idea of how this ended up going :3!

He and Mapic have like weekly meetings just to make sure everything is still okay between them. They sometimes invite Derap if they feel like it's very needed, Zam doesn't want to betray Derap after how much he had poured into their team so he tells Mapic that he's telling Derap the bare minimum so he knows that Zam isn't betraying him if he starts being weird around the resistance to Mawn.

He begins gathering forces, goes to talk with Kab gets her with the resistance who gets Clown. Messages Wemmbu and gives him stuff to craft up to 7 hearts. He also adds Bacon to the resistance under the pretense of helping Bacon with the wardens, overall Zam sets up a rather large resistance and let's it build up by itself helping out where necessary to make him not suspicious, sometimes helping more than really necessary, but it helped not incriminate him.

Whilst this is going on, Zam and Mapic meet at now their base, Mapic moved into it and eventually Zam told Derap the coords so sometimes he's there too. The two have a planning room where they have a map of spawn, a sign wall aswell as a few books of ideas.

Flame somehow isnt aware that Zam and Mapic are in kahoots, despite the fact the two are only half hiding it from him. Like mainly because it's funny at this point than anything else, they just kind of don't actually mention it but sometimes Zam is just 'coincidentally' alone with Mapic. Or Zam is almost no help to the resistance in the fight, and yet still bearly dies and if he does Mapic curses under his breath and gets the heart from Flame if he killed him to give to Zam.

They have bets on how long it takes Flame to notice that Zam is on the same side as him, the pile keeps growing each time they have to change their bet to a longer period of time. They've been betting with who's doing chores around the base after they win; like potion brewing for an amount of time and stuff. Sometimes Derap is there and gets roped into these bets but its mainly Devotions doing it.

They slowly get more obvious to Flame, first by having Zam go to spawn to see Mapic, and make it until Zam is in a Mawn meeting sat directly next to Mapic when he fully catches on. That meeting is mainly teasing Flame about things whilst Flame makes fun of them for basically hanging out of eachother for the whole meeting. They do end up filling Flame in on what was necessary for him to know, stuff like how Zam was just keeping the server functional and that he wasn't going to be saying literally everything happening minute to minute, mainly broad strokes and important developments. Aswell as how he shouldn't act on things that he otherwise wouldn't know to keep Zam not sus for as long as possible. Also that Derap knee before him.

Overall they work well together despite Zam's growing urge to reveal himself so he can fight visibly along side Mapic again. They do set up traps together, lots of void ones :3. Zam also does some alone, half of which he shares with the resistance, all of which he shares with Mapic, in two lists; "ones that they know about don't fucking use these" and "go for it!".

Sometimes they stage jumpings between Zam and either Mapic or Flame in order to take any suspicion away from him. (They do better than when they fake jumped Ro.) Sometimes he dies, usually he gets away :3.

[warwickroyals]

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (24/∞) ♛

↬ Queen Irene's Louts Tiara

Most of the tiaras in Sunderland's royal vault have decades-long histories that are, in most cases, carefully documented. However, some tiaras are more elusive. Queen Irene's lotus tiara remains one of the most mysterious in the royal vault. The tiara first made its public debut during the 1994 New Year’s Gala. When Queen Irene stepped out to view the annual fireworks display her tiara was bearly visible. The delicate platinum tiara with pearl toppers was partially obscured by Irene's mound of blond hair and the tumultuous January snowstorm made getting a clear shot of the tiara even more difficult. Over the following years, jewels hard time identifying the tiaras's origin and providence. Most likely, the tiara was gifted to Irene following her 1968 wedding to the Prince of Danforth, but this has yet to be confirmed by any official sources. Irene only ever wore this mystery tiara once and following its 1994 appearance, it disappeared for decades, with some claiming it had been dismantled. However, in 2020 the tiara made a second sudden appearance, this time being worn by the Queen's daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Sherbourne. Rumours that the tiara had been dismantled proved to be false, in fact, the tiara looked nearly identical to its 1994 setting with one key difference — the queen's original pearl toppers had been replaced by emeralds, widely speculated to be Illriyan emeralds from the Queen's personal jewelry box. Shelby, said to be the king's favourite daughter-in-law, has kept the lotus tiara in steady rotation along with her wedding tiara and another emerald tiara. Over the years, Shelby has gotten creative, routinely swapping the tiara's toppers (or removing the toppers altogether to wear the piece as a bandeau!) with different gemstones including turquoise in 2024, pink topaz in 2026, and peridot in 2027. The tiara's past still remains ambiguous, but the Duchess has ensured that it won't be easily forgotten.

Queen Irene wears her lotus tiara during the 1994 New Year's Gala,, in the background Princess Jacqueline can also be seen wearing the Wynn meander tiara

The Duchess of Sherbourne wears the tiara with emerald toppers in 2022

[pheoblitz]

Oren as a kid vs what he would have looked like as an adult if Nym had gone back to being his old self again fully. Some differences are simply fun while others have alot of meaning.

Differences and meaning:

-Hair style: Nym is more used to having his hair down, so dispite having cut it back short again, he would not have brushed it back or up anymore. It is also longer as he would plan to grow it out again.

-Head feather: He'd actually have it be the same. I just forgot it here.

-Eyes: He is older and a lot more tired. As well as having a more fully grown face. So his eye seem a bit higher up as his face slendered with age as well as got tired and narrower. He can still open them as wide as he used to and keep it there but it takes alot more effort to care to.

-His ear Decor: he lost the old ones in the underdark and would have bought the new ones off of memory only. Only remembering the 3 bands it had. The same applies to dangly eating part. Though in that case he bearly remembered at all. He simply still had the same taste and preferences.

-The corner clips on his collar: he lost the old pair with gemstones in it. He liked the memory of how they looked, but would not want to further revive the orange diamond motif then he has too. As he plans to distance himself from his old life, but is keeping what he still had originally on him if it is from the original outfit.

-His tie: His taste in ties changed and he liked this new look. Also it was toothy's idea.

-The collar of his jacket: it is shorter. He feels a bit less confident in himself and wanted something more subtle.

-The collar of his jacket: it is missing the wheat design. This would be another intentional move to distance himself from his family or simply because he did not remember that detail as alot of this is just going off what he can mamange to recall.

-His arm Wraps/Bracers: Being a druid, he does not really wear metal armour peices anymore. Also he is more used to wrapping his arms now. So he replaced his bracer things with arm bandages.

-His feathers: Being older, his little yellow arm feathers are now a full bright adult orange. It is also not visible, but now that he is older, he also has feathering on his chest rather then just his elbow and shoulders.

-His belt: Nym as an adult did not care to buy his old one's styles. He did not want to bring back the black wrap or the belt underneath. He liked the brightness of the one he had when he would have had no memories. So he would have kept it.

-A clip: Rather then be connected to his bag, as he no longer has it, he clipped it to his belt.

-Tail of his coat: It also looses the wheat for the same reason as the collar. Though this is not visible.

-Pants: His pants are a softer looser material. It needs to be tightly wrapped to stay up and has no place made for leather belts. While his old pants were a more jeans like material that did not need to be wrapped, he just did cause he liked it.

-Shoes: Dispite not being visible, he swapped out his metal armoured boots for a regular leather pair as he does not wear metal as armour anymore. Any metal he has now is mostly from the old outfit itself that he never lost or simply too small for him to care too too much about it.

[profoundfics]

Tertiary Opinions I/II

Unorthodox Introductions - II: Lighthouse

Rating: Mature - Canon Typical Violence and Sex

Pairing: Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich Volkarin (Neve Gallus x Lucanis Dellamort | Lace Harding x Taash)

(A03 Chapter Index) | (Tumblr Chapter Index)

-- --

The Eluvian in the middle of the main hall glowed with magic that Emmrich never thought he would live to see. The surface shimmered, and beyond was a land mass with floating masses visible in the distance like cheap fantasy landscapes of The Fade that cold be procured at any market. It was humbling to see the reality.

Rook glanced up at him. ‘This really is something,’ she said. ’Nothing any of us have ever read or dreamt could even begin to prepare us for what is really through there.’ Her hand reached up, touched the glass then passed right through it.

‘Come on,’ Bellara encouraged, and he followed Rook through the mirror.

The air left Emmrich’s lungs, replaced by something lighter that coursed through his veins, renewing his vigour. Around them, four mirrors towered over them, their surfaces shimmered as the one they had passed through. Buildings hung suspended in the air, some twisting lazily and to his left was the twinkling of gold atop a spire of - .

‘Well, Professor?’

Rook was a little way ahead of him, watching him over her shoulder.

‘This that The Black City?’ He asked jerking his head in the direction of the city like structure and golden spire. ‘So close,’ he mummered when Rook nodded her head.

’No wonder Bellara had so many questions,’ he said as she emerged through the mirror behind him. ‘Where are we exactly?’

‘This is part of the Crossroads,’ explained Rook.

‘I thought they were closed off after the Inquisition foiled the Qunari plot at the Exalted Council,’ said Emmrich, moving to follow Rook as she started to walk towards an archway.

‘The guardian here, The Caretaker, says this place is not exactly the same place as that,’ explained Rook. ‘Perhaps that is something else you might be able to help us understand. Come on, there’s more to see, lots more. At present, this is the safest part of the bar for Beacon Island. Spirits started to return after we cleared Venatori and Guardians from the area. They even have a shop.’

Rook stepped aside to reveal a plaza full of spirits; everything from wisps to entities having taken various mortal forms congregating around stalls and caravans.

‘Extraordinary,’ he managed, pausing beside her, head turning bearly able to take it all in.

‘Are you Rook?’

The voice pulled him from his speechless thoughts to look at the woman in question. She had already began walking towards the Grey Warden hailing her. Rook walked with her back straight, one hand resting over her sword’s pommel. She stood in profile to him, the Fade’s dreamlight accentuating her face in a way the gloom of the Necropolis had not. He had already noted she was beautiful; sharp, defined jaw with high cheekbones. The facial tattoo favoured by the Mourn Watch Reapers only served to highlight the regality of her bearing.

‘How was passage through the Heights?’ She asked the Warden.

‘Nothing we couldn’t handle and worth it for the decreased travel time,’ replied the Warden. ‘But how do we get to Minrathous. These are the supplies Davrin requested via Evka.’

He listened as Rook directed the caravan leader to one of the other mirrors they had just passed.

‘And our contact is Neve Gallus?’

Rook nodded. ‘You’ll likely find her at the Cobbled Swan. And...’ She bowed her head for a moment before meeting the Grey Warden’s eyes. ‘If there is anything you can do for Ashur - please help him.’

The Warden’s expression turned grave as she nodded. The two women shook hands and Rook returned to him and Bellara, her gaze sombre, corners of her lips downturned for the first time since they had met.

‘Do you think they can help him?’ Bellara asked once Rook was back with them.

Rook shrugged. ‘I think it’s more a case of whether he’ll let them help him. Davrin said any cure would be a high price to pay.’ She blew out a sigh before she turned back to Emmrich. A smile fixed in place that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Shall we finish the tour? Then you can best decide how to help us?’

--//-*-\\--

The Lighthouse was a marvel to behold. Once he had seen it on their approach to Beacon Island, Emmrich made his decision that the work required would be best undertaken from within Rook’s base of operation rather than remaining in the Necropolis and using the Eluvian network to reach them. Besides, it had been a long time since he had left the Necropolis and stepping out into the bright light of the outer world had warmed him.

Keeping track of everything worth studying was proving to be difficult. He had ended up dividing his thoughts across multiple journals to keep it all indexed for future reference. His growing curiosity resulted in multiple trips back to the Necropolis with Manfred in tow to gather more books and equipment. It would have been helpful to have additional skeletal servants to assist with moving items from his apartment, office and teaching lab to the Lighthouse but he had swiftly come to the conclusion that Rook’s assembled associates would not be comfortable with such a display.

They had been polite in their introductions but he had not missed the cautious whispers. Necromancy, Rook reminded him one evening when she offered to help with unpacking his books, was viewed with the same fear as blood magic.

‘We’re facing things far worse than the most dangerous Necromancers can conjure,’ she said, sipping a glass of wine as she watched him work perched on his desk. ‘They’ll come around.’

‘They don’t fear you,’ Emmrich remarked, struggling to keep the frustration out of his voice.

‘I think they forget I’m a Necromancer; hex-spells and wardweaves that destroy the undead and banish maligned spirits back to The Fade probably seem like acceptable magic whereas animating corpses and speaking to the dead does not.’ Then her face lit up with an expression of mischievousness that made her look years younger. ‘Besides, I don’t have a skeleton assistant following me around.’

‘They can’t surely be afraid of Manfred?’

Rook laughed at the incredulity in his voice, her lips curving up and eyes bright with amusement. ‘Maker, no,’ she exclaimed. ‘But outside Nevarra, the risen dead is not a good thing.’

‘I shall bear that in mind,’ he replied soberly as she scooted of the desk, setting the goblet aside and looking at the shelf he had been populating.

‘Do you have Ebner’s Index memorised?’ She asked with a curious lilt, referring to the tombscript system used to classify bodies of work by topic.

‘Not as such,’ he said, watching her straighten, eyebrow raised as she raked her fingers through her wavy lilac hair to tuck it behind her ears so it fell down her back. ‘Although, that does remind me,’ he continued when she picked up her goblet again. ‘Myrna sought me out today, some spirits within the Belfry were displaced in the commotion caused by the Venatori and asked if we might be willing to assist in drawing them back to their rightful place.’

Rook took a thoughtful sip of wine. ‘Harding still hasn’t had any luck on the dragon hunter front, so why not?’

‘There may also be stray Venatori within the chambers surrounding the Belfry.’

‘Then it’s a good job we have an expert in killing Venatori on hand.’

--//-*-\\--

‘He might be able to advise, Lucanis, if you just ask.’

Rook’s voice rang out through the library as Emmrich approached from his study. He emerged on the mezzanine to see the Rook and Lucanis across the table from one another. True to her previous decision, Rook had abandoned her leather travel wear for her Mourn Watch issue armour; interwoven chain, metal plate and robes were draped over her willowy frame giving her an ethereal appearance that resembled the Greater Spirits of the Necropolis. It was not a set of armour Emmrich often saw in use around the Necropolis but Rook embraced the appearance.

Across from her, Lucanis paced. Emmrich had detected the spirit residing within him the moment they had met. It cried out from within Lucanis for release, thrashing against the Crow’s mental defences.

‘He’s a Necromancer -‘

‘I’m a Necromancer,’ Rook emphasised harshly.

‘You don’t raise skeleton’s from the dead and turn them into manservants,‘ Lucanis countered.

‘Just because I haven’t got one, doesn’t mean I lack the capacity to make one,’ Rook pointed out.

‘Then why can’t you help me with Spite?’ Lucanis demanded, coming to a halt in his pacing and spinning to look at Rook.

‘Because it requires more than bashing you with a shield,’ replied Rook harshly. ‘Although, you seem to need some sense knocking into you, so perhaps it will be a start.’ She heaved in a frustrated breath before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘You need to communicate with Spite. Emmrich can help you with that. All I can do is kill you and end you both.’

‘Do not. Kill,’ screeched Spite, lunging forward with Lucanis’s body, stepping up onto the table and jumping down.

Rook dodged the attack, spinning out of reach in a spiralling flow of purple and green fabric, pulling her sword free. ‘Settle down,’ she commanded when she had some distance between them, pointing the jewelled pommel at Lucanis. ‘It is not my intention to kill either of you.’

‘Sorry,’ Lucanis now back in control, ‘he is -‘

‘Getting stronger,’ said Rook, completing the sentence, sheathing her sword with a fluid movement. ‘Speak to Emmrich,’ she finished with an order.

Lucanis opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it, shaking his head while turning on his heel. He took the stairs down to the Vi’Revas while Rook blew out a breath, her shoulders dropping before she looked up. Their eyes met and her lips quirked upwards ina dismal smile for a brief moment.

‘You’ll help him?’ She asked. ‘When he’s ready?’

Emmrich replied with a slow nod.

‘Then we’re ready when you are.’

--//-*-\\--

Rook paused the moment they emerged onto Beacon Island, the singing resonance of the dagger filled the air and Emmrich watched Rook pull a dagger from her belt. She held it up to the light, studying it for a moment. From its colour, Emmrich was able to deduce that a large quantity of Lyrium was used for it and its construction, with a circular pommel was more suited to ritual use than battle. He could detect the vibrations through the eddies of the fade, resonating with something nearby and he followed Rook’s attention to an ornately constructed golden tree that stood in the plaza below. She stowed the blade back in her belt and moved down the steps at a jogging pace. Lucanis followed a moment after, catching up to her while Emmrich moved at a slower pace, scrying the eddies around them as voices seemed to echo over them.

‘So it’s the present we’re hearing,’ she said, reaching out to the tree and touching it.

‘And what if they can hear us?’ Lucanis demanded.

Rook stepped back. ‘I don’t think they can,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ve heard voices from here before and assumed they were echos from the past.’ She put her hands on her hips and looked at the floor. ‘Solas wouldn’t have risked his operations by creating something like this if they could hear us. Wonder how it works?’

‘Bellara and I could take a look at it to see if we can find any indication as to how it might work,’ Emmrich suggested.

‘Yes,’ said Rook. ‘If only to put our minds at rest. Come on.’

She stepped away from the tree and headed towards the pier that took them to the Converged City. The journey was quiet, an uncomfortable silence wrapped around the three companions leaving Emmrich glad when they were able to disembark.

‘So, you’re a Mortalitasi?’

Emmrich turned his gaze on Lucanis. The umber eyes of a dread assassin, a famed mage killer, bore into him. ‘Mortalitasi is a general term,’ he explained, turning a ring on his finger. ‘I belong to the Mourn Watch.’

‘The difference?’ Lucanis enquired mildly.

‘Well, you are a Crow, but I presume not all Crows belong to House Dellamorte,’ replied Emmrich to which Lucanis nodded. ‘The Mourn Watch is an elite circle of Mortalitasi Mages with the ultimate authority over The Grand Necropolis and Funerary Dead, as well as other duties outside the Necropolis.’

‘But you’re still a Necromancer?’ Lucanis pushed.

‘Yes, certainly.’

‘And Rook is a Necromancer, too, but a different type of Necromancer?’

‘Indeed,’ replied Emmrich. ‘Rook is a Reaper, while I am a Spirit Caller. There are a number of specialisations within our ranks.’

The assassin hummed thoughtfully but didn’t continue his questioning as they reached the mirror to the Necropolis. Rook stood before it, hands on hips, gazing intently.

‘They’ve moved it from the Upper Mortuary Halls to The Shrouded Halls,’ Rook announced.

‘Myrna and VORGOTH are leading the efforts to cleanse the chambers we discovered when unchaining the Sunken Star,’ Emmrich explained. ‘I should have mentioned it to you.’

‘At least we don’t have to worry about getting stuck in the lifts,’ she remarked, stepping through into the cool world beyond.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hiya :D

i love ur headcannons they always make me laugh reading them!

do u think u could do some on what subjects u think the mercs would teach if they were teachers?

What Subjects Would The TF2 Mercs Teach?

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Awe, thank you, Anon, that's so sweet 💖 I can definitely write this, it seems like a lot of fun! UH going to just assume that these guys are teaching at a college, so they get specialized fields to teach!

This is probably going to be very similar to "What Jobs Would The TF2 Mercs Have If They Weren't Mercenaries" post, so I'll probably keep this shorter so I don't end up repeating myself, uh I also added how the classes would like them as a teacher!

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Demo would teach chemistry, trying very hard not to dabble with anything too illegal in his classroom. He loves the way science almost works like magic when it comes to chemistry. Loves the bearly visible bridge between a perfect result and utter chaos. His students are both deeply terrified and greatly inspired by Demo. He's a genius when it comes to science, and it shows through the times he's deeply concentrated while teaching. May or may not have "accidentally" shown the class how to make explosives. Oops.

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Engie is a fan of biomedical engineering regardless of if it's his job or just something he'd be asked to teach to people who were curious about it. He has such a passion for the mix of two things he loves, helping people and making things. He will go on for hours, showing examples of how important biomedical engineering is, how impactful even one person in the field can be. His students would love the passion he speaks on the subject with and how willing he is to make sure everyone in his class understands the material.

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Heavy would teach Russian literature after being inspired by his teachers. The passion they showed in their teachings and how willing they were to prioritize helping students evoked feelings in him that he never known. He does everything for his students, making sure that everyone is supported. He tries his hardest to give his all to make these students feel the same passion he has for it. His students love him, and his class is one of the most popular, has made large impacts on every student that's came into his class.

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Medic teaches, shock of all shocks, medical classes! I know, I know, but what can I say? He lives for the medical field. Keeps his class ethical enough, stating multiple times that as doctors, their job is to heal and save lives. However, some of his students who share the same, uh, curious shine in their eyes are more than welcome to attend a class that dips into the unethical side of medical practices. He's a good teacher, and his students are fond of him for his unsettling aura and passion.

(Can you tell I know jack all about medicine and how it's taught lmao)

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Scout is a teacher in sports journalism, and his class both loves and loathes him as a teacher. He loves sports, so writing about them is super easy! He has a lot of fun teaching other people the best way to describe things and how to put their feelings on the page, but he's also horrendous at spelling and writing in general. His class understands his struggles but gets rather annoyed when Scout pulls up an article he wrote and can't understand any of it. He's trying his best, and he makes a half decent teacher.

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Sniper is a photography teacher, and honestly? His class isn't for everyone. In Snipers mind through every picture he takes he's expressing a deep feeling or trying to invoke an emotion in the viewer, which he succeeds in most of the time, but it's hard for other people to replicate that when you, don't. Talk. To. Them. Some people just pick up photography and understand exactly how to do what Sniper expects without guidance, others can't understand at all. Basically, not a teacher, teacher.

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Spy is teaching political science, hoping he can somehow subtly influence a few students into using the knowledge he provided to find a profession in espionage. He's definitely a teacher who would make you nervous, kind of a mean teacher, but he never let's a student fall behind. Subtly offering help or an extension to make sure his students succeed. Claiming he doesn't do it out of love for his students, just so he isn't known for having any failures in his class.

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Soldier is the worlds best american history teacher, hands down. You want to talk about passion? He loves American history and will go on the longest rants and makes all of them entertaining. His class is never dull or boring. He's another prime example of a teacher who will do anything for his students and make sure they understand everything going on. No man left behind and all that. His students love him :)

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Pyro is a teacher of fire science (I didn't even know that was a thing, but apparently it is, who knew?) Pyro, being obsessed with lighting fires, knows quite a bit about all types of fire is more than happy to share their knowledge about flames. While their students can barely understand them, they don't call Pyro out on it as their passion for the subject transcends words. Pyro's class is less of a class than a period of entertainment, but somehow everyone comes away from the class knowing everything they needed, and even somethings they didn't.

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Short and sweet little headcanons, how fun! Sorry if it's actually too short! Thank you again for the ask anon, super fun to write :)

I'm just now realizing that there's a chance that this won't make sense because I'm a little tired while writing this, so I hope it turned out well. Sorry if it didn't, Anon 😭

[doot-slayer-scp666]

Here goes my massive rant about why the US election ended this way

really long rant under the cut

Its because of 2008 financial crisis Americans were told over and over "trust in the corporations, they have your best interest at heart, corporations can do whatever they want because free market is always right" and then the economy gets fucked. And what's the consequence? Nothing. No new legislation, no arrests. Everyone knew who was at fault but all they got is a bail out of taxpayer money from US government, money that should be used for the people given to those who screw us the most. Ritch only got richer and everyone else suffered ( fun fact, during economic crisis only normal people suffer, corporations only grow faster during crisis)

People want change, they don't trust the system anymore

They vote in Obama because he is charismatic and promises changes. What did he do? Fuck all. Then 2016 and people get to choose between extremely unpopular Clinton who tells them everything is already great and nothing should be changed and Trump, who is new and populist, who promises big things. But they also had a third option, Sanders who would win fucking 50/50 states, wo promises to fix everything regular people want, to do what they wanted. But democrats take his campaign and shoot it behind the barn. Message is clear, you are either a status quo candidate or get fucked.

So people vote in Trump, who also largely did nothing and the things he did fucked people over but at this point they were already radicalized by the culture war And then covid hits and Trump fucks it up unimaginably badly

So in 2020 people get to choose either Trump, who is the reason why some of their family are now dead and Biden, another status quo candidate that won't to anything for 4 years And Biden bearly wins

During the Biden presidency Republicans start to take full control over the media. Listen to radio? Talking about evil immigrants. TV? All news channels shift to the right, fox is already bad enough but they move even further right, CNN gets more "centrist" meaning right-wing. Internet? Everywhere you look you see far right news. Games? The gaming channel you watched some time ago now probably screams about woke videogames and feminazis destroying games

And democrats also move further right, now they also hate immigrants, they want more oil, and let's not forget SUPPORTING A FUCKING GENOCIDE

So of course people don't want another turn of Biden, especially when he is visibly dying on stage every time he speaks

But then we get Kamala, who does big exciting rallies, who talks about corporate price gouging, who talks about how fucking weird Trump and his supporters are. A candidate that does populist things. Immediately pools and donations rise, people are excited. Finally someone who can insult Trump. People love it

But then she wins the nomination and the entire campaign grinds to a complete stop. DNC gets the hold of the campaign and immediately all attacks on Trump stop because that's "uncivil", all populist talk stops because that's not very status quo now is it? Kamala gets asked "how your presidency will be different from Biden?" She says his presidency is already perfect and she wouldn't change anything, the only thing different is that she will have a republican in the administration She becomes another Democrat status quo "trust the institutions" candidate

So she looses

Because people want change and they already forgotten how Trump presidency was like, or more likely were gaslighted by all those right wing media everywhere that it was amazing and the best thing that ever happened to them

So now Trump wins. Honestly it would have been better if he won in 2020 At least then they wouldn't have 4 years to consolidate power In 2016 they were running on momentum, now they have actual detailed plan to destroy America

This is all fault of the democrats, they constantly shoot themselves in the feet every time they make a step forward they immediately have to correct by taking two back They wanted to loose and now the entire world will pay for it

And if there even is another election in america the only lesson the democratic party learns from this is that they need to be more transphobic or something like that. They never learn

Im not american, but this election will affect the entire world. Other far right goverments will be emblodened, Trump praising dictators will empower them, he will tell Israel to "finish the job" in Gaza so he can build hotels on the rubble and bodies, he will stop supporting Ukraine, probably stop supporting other NATO nations.

We are fucked And we can blame the democratic party for that

[realmofsolitaire]

Bye-Bye Birdie

The Tipsy Bison. The bar had been the place of Joel's solace for the past week. Tommy had convinced him to stay, and re-equip before He and Ellie put themselves in harm's way again. It was nice, for a couple days... It was slower, more domestic. An actual bed, hot showers, and toilet paper. But Joel couldn't hide from his demons. He spent nights gripping at his sheets or blinking at the ceiling. His mind roaring. All he had lost. Frank and Bill... Ellie? His palm tightened around his glass. He was about four whiskey neats in and he still felt everything; every excruciating thought, every cruel fear.

Then she sauntered over.

He heard the old wooden door creak open to reveal a bearly visible face behind a thick head of locs. Joel had never seen that much hair before.

Her upper half was wrapped in a burgundy sweater that had seen better days, and her bottom half was zipped up in some dark wash denim that looked painted on.

He glanced down at his drink.

"Evening Seth, you got any more of that Sangria?" she asked in a honeyed tone. Her voice was breathy and soft. She had a southern drawl, it wasn't quite Texas, maybe Georgia?

The man nodded.

"Of course Birdie," He mumbled.

Birdie.

She hummed into her glass, delicate fingers wrapping intently around the stem.

"You're Tommy's brother, right?" She gracefully turned towards the man, her legs crossed over one another.

Joel nearly choked. He simply nodded in response.

"I've uh, seen you around but haven't had the pleasure of meeting you until now," the woman said, her dark eyes never leaving Joel's stoic face.

The man exhaled sharply. He wasn't one for small talk, but he could tell that she was.

He started filling in the blanks of who she was and what she wasn't.

She wasn't rough around the edges like him; she was... warm and soft.

Probably grew up with two parents in a big house, but not too big. No siblings, no, she was an only child, maybe a pet to keep her company.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" she laughed.

It was melodic and contagious. The man couldn't help the quirking up of his lips.

He didn't like this.

"Not one for small talk," he grumbled.

She hummed in response biting her lip.

The two sat in comfortable silence listening to the sounds of glasses clinking and counters being wiped.

When the woman was about three drinks in, she rose to her feet and sauntered over to the ancient karaoke machine, her boots clicking against the wooden floor.

"He... left no time to regret... kept his dick wet... with his same old safe bet..." she serenaded.

Her eyes fluttered close, and the music traveled down her spine.

"Me... with my head high... and my tears dry..."

Joel could tell she was three sheets to the wind when she stumbled back to her stool.

"Whoa..." he cautioned, moving to catch her.

"You must think I'm a total lush," she slurred.

The man chuckled.

"It doesn't matter what I think; I'm just a stranger, Birdie", He breathed, getting her on her feet.

The woman scoffed playfully.

"My name's Y/N. Birdie's just somethin' Seth calls me, because I sing when I'm all pie-eyed," she slurred.

"You are definitely pie-eyed..." He mumbled, realizing just how close she was and how good she smelled.

Her skin smelled of patchouli and tonka bean, her hair smelled of vanilla and shea.

"You alright there, Joel?" she asked with a smirk.

The man hummed in response.

"Sorry, you smell nice," the man cringed when he heard the words tumble from his lips.

Those whiskey neats had done him in.

"Sorry..." he grumbled.

Birdie felt her face get hot and her pie eyes open wider.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Joel's eyes shifted to the dart board behind her.

"Oh, don't get all shy on me now," Birdie practically purred.

Joel's eyes darted to the floor, his mouth opening slightly.

Birdie only smiled and sent a wink over to Seth.

"See you around Miller."

[cruel-angel-02]

Postin the drawing im currently working on. Part 1

Ok so im a bit of a novice artist, I've only been drawing for like 2 years. This is only the base sketch, i mainly concentrated on the hands as the are the easiest part, they aren't perfect (obviously) but it's a good start. Later I will be working mainly on Makimas body. (Tips/criticism are appreciated) (i know that the sketch is bearly visible but I have an old phone, not much I can do about it)

[k00299471]

Reflection on using latex with knots made from thread and wool.

I found once the material and latex had dried I could easily put it from the plastic sheet.

The latex stuck to the other latex, making it difficult to pull apart.

The combined material was very flexible and I felt I would try another material that might dry more solid.

I wanted the knots to stand a bit more up right and feel I might try another material to achieve thid

On process this. I decided I wanted to use the negative space around the knots ,

I wanted the knots to show but I also wanted the negative space to show separately.

I fell if I could achieve this ,it might show move of a feeling of movement in a spin type way.

The knots and the latex did show, but I felt it was too flexible for how I wanted to show negative space.

I love creating a new material or sculpture from combined materials.

I now name the above piece...

Rubber Knots.

( maybe I'll patent it )

Next I sourced a washing machine drum

I played around with knots i made earlier and wondered how I might be able to express movement with knots and spins.

Bu putting the knots into the drum tied with chicken wire i could maluipate them in the space within the drum.

I wanted to exaggerate a negative space .

I decided to use expanding foam.

I want to control the expand foam and the shape it make so I can manipulate the shape around the knots

I used plastic bags, that I'm hoping will pull away once the foam dries

The expanding foam didn't work.

I think the gas had gone from the tin.

I'll source more and try again

After a buying a second tin, I realised that this was the way the foam came out for the tin, slowly and very sticky and almost liquid. I continued with my plan of making form from the foam.

This proved difficult and slow as I realised I had to think of another way to make my shapes to put into the drum.

I source some scraps of cardboard that were in cylinder shapes , I tore these to make the shapes. The irregular ripped cardboard will help to make my shape more organic, which I will place in between the knots and the wire. I feel the contrast between the wire ( being harsh and geometric) foam being soft and organic and the knots being a close curve in space, will show a new sculpture of movement originating from the spin of washing machine. I feel the different types of material express the flow of swish,mechanical and spin showing movement.

The expanding foam with the knots didn't have the desired effect I was hoping for.

I thought it would explain to a larger size and the knots would be bearly visible .I did this as I thought the expanding foam might give the feeling of movement in the drum as it happens it looked unconnected from the knots and the concept.

[coooldair]

Transmasc joy is when you find out you have chest/torso hair (its bearly visible)

[apothecaryshop]

That bearly visible secret is like the taste of honey

[thottacelli]

Idk about this, I don't think we should be so passive about the limitations the powers that be are putting us under, nor what the effects of obeying those limitations will be.

Regardless of what Oliver actually believes, saying Hamas is bad hurts Palestinians and their fight for freedom. Hamas (and other liberation groups but I'm focusing on Hamas cuz they are currently the most visible and talked about) will be what frees Palestine from occupation. They are also the elected gov of Gaza and will be what takes over administration of the area once israel stops attacking. What is the point of calling for a ceasefire if you also demonize the people who will be running the area after you get that ceasefire?

To me, all that this is going to do is manufacture consent for another attack on Gaza. Right now Gazans are bearly seen as innocent civilians. But if we spend this entire war telling the world that Palestinians are innocent but Hamas is definitely bad, how are people going to feel about Gaza when they hear that Hamas took control after the ceasefire? It's going to make people more ok with an attack on Gaza cuz it's officially ran by terrorists.

I don't think Oliver's intentions or potential gag orders really matter here, what matters is the lasting freedom of Palestine. If what he is doing and saying goes against what Palestinians want and will ultimately hurt them, then it's not good and he should be criticized for it.

John Oliver has enough money and visibility that he could get fired from HBO for disobeying a gag order and start a YouTube channel called "another night with John Oliver" or something and still have an extremely successful career. So while he may have been put under one, he really didn't HAVE to listen to a gag order, and we shouldn't be making excuses for him.

Oliver can do and say whatever he wants on his show, but we should not baby him just cuz he isn't a raging facist. He has trust and he has influence, he could have used that trust to change people's minds about Hamas but he didn't. He can and should be judged for that.

It's not that I don't understand that you can't go far left on television, I simply do not accept that I have to live by what makes a CEO comfortable. If we continue to be ok with crumbs of freedom and justify why we can't have anything better, then there is no way things will get better than this. They are not going to give us permission to say bad things about them, so we must decide to do it anyway. And people like Oliver are the very few of us that can blatantly go against them and come out the other end still intact. He does not have to stick his neck out, but he should not be exempt from criticism for his choice not to do so.

Also, any bridge that doesn't lead to liberation for colonized people is just a distraction and shouldn't exist anyway. We should not encourage people to come to easy conclusions and solutions just because they are slightly progressive. Solutions like these are not going to change enough to actually benefit the most exploited of us. Simply pushing people left is not good enough, being a general leftist is not good enough, we must have people educated on anti-imperialism and what actually needs to be done to liberate colonized people.

Or you end up with a bunch of people saying we need a ceasefire while vehemently insisting the people who will be picking up the pieces afterwards are violent terrorists.

People get so weird about John Oliver. They're so unwilling to accept that yes, this is the furthest left you're allowed to be on a talk show on a corporate network. They're currently mad he did a segment calling for a ceasefire in Gaza, something very few media people have done, something many outlets have discouraged, bc he...also said Hamas is bad, and he titled the segment "Israel-Hamas War". Like Jesus Christ, yes, a lot of what John Oliver says is radical by the standards of corporate media, and I don't know, maybe it's important to have that voice in that widely-accessible space and not hold him up as a failure bc he doesn't provide solutions for everything and isn't perfect.

"All he does is say the problem is capitalism, but doesn't suggest what to do" You realize HBO's other political talk show is hosted by a guy who spends each week raving about how woke college students and pronouns are oppressing him, right? The bar for John Oliver is not set where it is for a dirtbag leftist podcast; that's the bar. Why does he have to outline the revolution