#but maybe i'll get to other stuff too

[chrrywvea]

creds to @epiimetheux !!!

i kept coming back to this beautiful artwork and i got inspired by it so here you go...

(disclaimer: i haven't completed a fic in forever, let alone published one, so i'm very anxious about this, i apologise if it's a mess •~•♡ love you guys)

----------

tom watches from the side as his husband steps forward to his coffin. pete's head is bowed, but he can see the trembling of his lips and the coiled muscles in his jaw.

oh my love.

what i'd give to embrace you one more time.

he knew he couldn't reach his husband anymore. his time had passed.

that didn't keep tom from standing next to pete's side. keeping watch. protecting his wingman, as they'd promised to each other years ago on that fateful day.

when repressed feelings and pretentious rivalry finally made way for the unconditional love thay had never wavered once.

partnership that had lasted 33 years.

tom watched as pete took the wings off his uniform, laying them onto the smooth oak.

the gun salutes were no more than background noise, tom's sole focus lying on the man in front of him.

the moment he saw pete punching the wings into the coffin he felt an incredible warmth spread through his chest.

such a feeling had been limited to very few moments in his life.

in the cockpit of his plane, soaring above the clouds with ron at his back and pete right by his side.

the return from the layton mission.

aching and sweaty and all kinds of shaken up but alive, thriving on adrenaline and pent up energy.

they had only seen each other then.

not iceman and maverick, but tom and pete, right there on the deck, what ron had later jokingly called their "confession".

their wedding. finally being allowed to slip a ring onto pete's finger while surrounded by all their loved ones. to call him his husband for everyone to see and hear without having to fear anymore. forever and always - the ending of both of their vows.

when their son had come back to them.

pete, bradley and himself crying with relief in their kitchen as they embraced for the first time in years. pete almost losing it as bradley started called him 'dad' again, and tom almost following suit when 'pops' returned back to daily use.

in that hospital bed, when he'd kissed his husband for the last time. he had wiped the tears on pete's cheeks with trembling hands, mapping that gorgeous face he knew better than the back of his own hand.

hushed i love you's in the quiet of the room, both signed and said out loud as they held each other.

the last words he felt pressed against his forehead being 'forever and always', before he slipped away into neverland.

tom looked over his shoulder just as pete stepped back from the coffin.

the wings on his back were strikingly white. glossy and strong feathers fluttered softly in the wind, and tom couldn't help the smile that spread on his face.

i will protect you, my heart.

my wingman.

my everything.

carefully he guided his wings around pete's sides. shielding him for just a moment. providing the endless support he couldn't give in person anymore.

pete looked up towards the sky, just like the rest of the crowd, watching as the missing man formation flew by.

everyone watched the sky, but tom couldn't tear his eyes away from his husband. how the dusking sun reflected in those tender green eyes. the curve of his nose, and the sweet lips he'd kissed so very often, now being worried at between pearly teeth.

i love you, forever and always.

as if he heard him, pete echoed his words.

"forever and always, sweetheart."

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[cheesecake801]

-lkner duo for you

For context : it all started with this diagram about Volkner and Falkner's name being so similar

It was fun and I drew them for the 1st time here, then I realised that these two could actually have interesting dynamics !!

Do you see the vision

[satsuha]

i've been thinking about nahyuta's title as the "last rites prosecutor" because i think it's an interesting part of his character that's immediately apparent from his first appearance... in japanese it's written as トムライの検事 (tomurai no kenji) with tomurai meaning funeral/burial. this is pretty self-explanatory considering his tendency to pray for the victim but i actually think it's really interesting that the localization opted for the term "last rites" instead

last rites are a specifically christian practice of praying for the dying to absolve them of their sins before they die - in other words, prayers given to the deceased wouldn't be considered last rites (x)

this is a pretty blatant contradiction of the original's meaning and what nahyuta actually does in the game but i think it's interesting to consider that the person he might be praying for is the defendant (and under khura'in's DC act, the defense as well), not the victim... even outside of khura'in we see that those who are proven guilty in murder trials are executed, and we know that nahyuta has been acting as a prosecutor under ga'ran, almost definitely sending several rebels and defense attorneys to their deaths in the process.

it would just be really tragic if his habit of praying came out of desperation at being forced to send innocents or even former comrades/friends to their deaths... whether it being interpreted as a funeral rite for the victim arose from the people around him or as another act of desperation from nahyuta to cover his actual intentions doesn't matter as much since i think one would have led to the other anyway...

[covertblizzard]

jaykyle au where they're theatre kids in the same school but they're not the actors jason's the scriptwriter/director and kyle is the prop manager (i don't know the official terms sorry) and they'd probably do an amazing job on the backstage setting if they could stop arguing for 5 whole seconds about their artistic visions and ideas and how "this would obviously work better this way"

[old-skyguy]

Look.

Ace Attorney fandom.

I know why people don't like Turnabout Bigtop. I am among the people who dislike Turnabout Bigtop.

But I GET why people like the case. I'm not going to be one of those annoying people who just blindly dump on it because I hate those mfs too.

Thing about Bigtop isn't that it sucks. Thing isn't the weird grooming stuff (though that is a huge part of it). It's not that it could've been good.

It's that - in my personal OPINION - it could have been *great*.

I think it had the potential to be one of the best third cases in the trilogy. It had everything; a fun and goofy setting fit for a pretty dang goofy lawyer game - where the environment itself had jokes and quips and one-liners and mishaps and tomfoolery written all over it, it had the previous case introducing a very interesting and important plotline that gave background for one of the more well-loved characters while also introducing an equally fucked up and lovable new one who was a child forced into a shit childhood of naivete in a CIRCUS with another character who was very naive and childish - whose interactions could have been funny and cute and reflective of said shit from the previous case (seriously she becomes such an important character in the 4th case, WHY would they not include her in this one for some character development? How did they fuck up letting a CHILD explore a CIRCUS?? That would have made the interactions flow MUCH better).

They had a pretty good, sympathetic killer imo, a morally dubious victim, an asshole of a client (who was pretty flat admittedly in-game, but I like his weird, topsy-turvy reasoning for it in the anime. Also, I think Max being kinda a dick would have bode well for the themes of Farewell since most of his clients up to this point have been like...nice? Not nice, but sympathetic, but him having to defend someone who's innocent but a prick would have shown him that just because someone is an asshole, doesn't mean they deserve to suffer for it and that they have the potential to grow as people, which is almost a complete foil to what Matt was. Ultimately, I would have loved the contrast of them as clients and I think it would have also served as character development for Phoenix, especially with his low-empathy tendencies).

They just didn't think that far ahead. They just didn't execute it well enough. They just decided to make three of the adult characters fight for the hand in marriage of a teenage girl. (Bat's part of the story was actually kinda good if he was just YOUNGER, I think him doing that for Regina would have been a stupid thing someone in the circus would do to impress their crush. Damn you Ace Attorney and your weird treatment of underage girls!!)

It just flopped and that's ok.

Even though it kinda sucked, it can still mean something to me.

Also I'm a Moe Curls apologist. I liked him, shut up.

[cinnamon-flame]

Concept for a lynx piñata cause I love Viva Piñata and I love lynxes and I think those two things should go together.

I also love moths so totally self indulgent drawing of the lynx and a mothdrop

[lyxchen]

I feel like I'm digging myself deep into a hole and finding nothing, trying to figure out more about In-ho's family

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[danieyells]

Trying to reorganize the list of oc rp accounts so i can make it. Not just a really long list and actually make it something orderly and

There are too many of you /affectionate) and I'm still missing like. Three. But I'll deal with that when I finish up and post the list. Gotta reorder it by year and then reorder it again alphabetically so i'm not trying to figure out chronology again and make sure all the info is correct and then I have to copypaste it to tumblr and link everyone because you can only put 50 @'s in one post and. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[drpicklesart]

they are going to mehnahnaroo

[danwhobrowses]

Well Critters the year is almost up, at least for me here in England. Aside from the general pensiveness and reflection of the past year, it also means I'm about to (technically) complete my first full year of following the CR episodes as they came out; a year full of twists, turns, uprisings, downfalls, and just so much going on - only for the campaign to now be nearing its end.

We knew the end was coming sure, but since December's 4SD announced itself as the last of the campaign the number of episodes remaining has grown more finite, likely to be around 1-4 more episodes, and confronting the end is very different to acknowledging it ending. Admittedly in the confronting part I've become a liiiiittle bit of a mess, loaded with panic and worry beyond my own control; I sometimes tell myself that I'm being silly, they're fictional characters, the story's likely already recorded its end, and I never had any control or influence on the story to begin with, but as expected such attempts are both hollow and in vain. It's been a while since I was this invested in a story, or fandom for that matter, and the fact that most key and decisive moments will be determined by dice rolls continuously does nothing to soothe my nerves, or my uncertainties towards how it'll end - after all, the hardest battle has yet to be fought, the biggest decisions yet to be made, and Ludinus Da'leth is way WAY too calm about being trapped in a Force Cage for my liking.

I wonder if the fear and dread was the same for those watching the end of the previous two campaigns? If it was more or less than it is now by comparison? In hindsight, while the final stage so far feels more grounded compared to the more spectacular, massive miniature, larger-than-life endgame battles against Vecna and Lucien's Neo-Somnovem phases, it feels like the stakes are riskier for Bells Hells, on a low Level 15 with no cleric, dismal openings for additional support, and little wiggle room to get creative, especially since killing Ludinus - who continues to be touted as the 'strongest mage of our time' and could get even stronger depending on which way Matt goes with him - alone potentially won't end the overarching conflict, though he should still die nonetheless. At the very least I want the Hells (as we have for VM and the Nein) to all be free to live happily, be it settling down, embarking on new adventures, or just being the best they can be - and doing so with the people that mean the most to them - and at the very most I want them to make the best and kindest decision for the world as a whole, which I hope they get the chance and take the opportunity to do so.

It's still difficult to ready myself for it ending mind you, since I could have very easily spent another year with these idiots and still not be fully ready to say goodbye to them. On that however, I know not everyone shares my sentiment; some are truly ready for the campaign to be over and for C4 for explode (pun intended) onto the scene with brand new characters that in a few years time we'll also likely be unready to say goodbye to, and that's fine. But for all that can and will be said about Campaign 3 - positively and critically - it has very much delighted, disheveled, and deranged me for most of the year, usually at my desk of work, so trying to brace myself for the climax has, and continues to be, a lot of mental effort. Keeping myself positive and hopeful in these situations is tough especially when on the verge of a big battle; sometimes the negative thoughts creep in, Youtube videos full of pessimists and clickbait titles appearing unwantedly on my recommendations don't help, nor does the memory of what happened the last time the Hells were in a major boss battle at the tail end of their time on Ruidus, but when the campaign does end I want it to be looked upon fondly, and a lot of that does hinge on its conclusion. Obviously, I trust the group and Matt's storytelling, but that is only to an extent; defeating Ludinus is something I know Bells Hells are capable of doing - so long as the dice gods play ball and Matt doesn't inexplicably overbuff Ludinus to the nth degree like he did with Otohan - but the Predathos decision remains the root and focal point of the campaign's criticisms for good reason, often overshadowing and playing obstacle to character growth and direction. There is a satisfying and spectacular conclusion in there, but navigating it - even for a group that embraces 'when given two options, we pick option 3' more times than not - let alone achieving it is a very delicate path of fine margins, one that can indeed make or break the campaign - and a lot of my worries lie there, that and approaching/confronting an entity so voracious and eager to escape that it makes the gods terrified enough to deliberate breaking down the Divine Gate.

Without talking more to death about the god stuff and Predathos thing like we the fandom have already done aplenty, there's not much else I can say except that I'm worried but also trying to be hopeful. The campaign ending in tragedy or a pyrrhic victory is possible but it's not an outcome I personally desire or want to entertain. You could perhaps aptly translate that to my general feelings towards the new year too; having wants and wishes, hopes and hesitancies, fears and fandom, just currently a bit more compressed here than it is for the full year - and given our recent run of the years playing dystopia simulator, I'm more hopeful in one than the other right now - and perhaps it would do good to start the year with something to smile about. Right now, it's just that it's happening; it's happening, it's soon, and it's very apparent how close we are to finishing, which means I'm panicking and rambling, and panicking, and of course, rambling. I don't know what emotions will January send me through, but I do hope with all my being that they'll be positive ones.

So whether or not you reached the end of this, I wish you all a Happy New Year and, much like the end of Campaign 3, I hope it's a good one.

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[yasmeensh]

Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.

[teddybeartoji]

tomorrow is gonna be such a weird day i am not looking forward to it at all