#i wanna write a second part

[veinsfullofstars]

“Any more stupid questions?”

Bonus live reactions to being saved from a Dark Matter ambush:

Started 07/13/24, finished 07/27/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

[b4kuch1n]

glorioso from last years twitterin

[habken]

my favourite activity is writing an essay in the tags on all my posts

[omegalomania]

we do not know and might not ever know the full story behind mania and the circumstances under which it was produced but we know enough by now to understand that there was a lot of strife and frustration involved in the way it came about. the band has been clear on this much. the divisive reception upon release didn't help any. and we know the last time that happened with folie, it led to that record essentially being forgotten and aggressively sidelined for years afterward. the roughness of its reception was explicitly one of the things that patrick especially cited as difficult for him to look back on, and one of the reasons it took so long for him to embrace those songs again.

it took mania five years what took folie a full hiatus and double that time.

this too is healing.

[nightviator]

OK so hear me out. I'm going to tell you how I think they could make the subway scenes without making lila and Five a thing, and also having a really good character arc and making them show trauma signs. It's a bit long.

Like five would be as traumatised as he deserved to be from last apocalypse, having flashbacks and etc. Lila would see what he experienced to end up as the assassin he was and would think about her parents and the way she wanted to kill him because of her family but ended up being ungrateful for having one. And they could have great character arcs.

Lila and Five go to that subway. Five sees that thay lost the way to go back home and is really frustrated. Actually he is using that anger to hide the fact that he is scared. Traumatised. Because he has seen it all before.

He was there before. Lost, without power to help his family. He is scared. That time he had handler and there is now no thing such that. What if he has to wait another 45 years to go back to his family? Does he even has that mental capability? What if he dies before getting the chance?

He really is scared. Scared because all of the thoughts he had in that past apocalypse are coming back to him. But this time it really was his fault. He can't tell that he is a kid just saying no to his father (not that he could use it to convince himself before, the guilt was too much). He can't say he had no idea of what time travel can make. He had promised himself to never do such a stupid thing ever again and he did it. This time he abandoned his family when he knew they were in a bad state.

So he is scared and angry at himself and at lila and everything and ptsd and stuff and stuff and. Lila sees it. Lila can see what made the murder of her parents, the murder of her parents. She can see how traumatised he really was. And she wants to help. She was responsible in this because she wanted to be more than just a wife and mom and she kinda made him to come here.

But as the time passes five is in a way worse situation. He is loosing it. Also the one who wants to help him is the daughter of handler. Five is so paranoid. What if it was all a plan? What if he never really ran away from the first apocalypse and is still working for commission? What if this is mind games of handler? And if not, what says that Lila can't be another handler? The ones that find you when you're at your worst and try to act like they want to help.

So here we have paranoid Five and Lila who wants to help and understands how truly traumatised he is. She is also scared that Five may run away when she is sleep because he can't trust her now,and because of that she has to always keep an eye on him.

This makes him even more sure that something is up with Lila. And when they go to that very first apocalypse, he goes to his young self without paying attention to gun to make sure that its not all just memories made by handler and he is truly seeing this and the things he experienced after season 1 were real. He is gets shot and lila is the one who saves him.

She is like:"you fucking idiot!!! What are you doing?! You literally were the murder of my parents and now you're acting all crazy and are about to get both of us killed?!"

And he looks at her, yelling that he NEVER wanted those to happen, and just for the first time cries because he thinks all of the things he has done was because of handler but also thinks he is making those up to feel less guilty of being a murder for such a long time and also coming to this subway but at the same time he is paranoid and etc etc.

Lila sees how much guilt he had and also feels bad because does she really miss her family? If yes, why wasn't she more grateful this time? Why did she ran away from them then?

And she sighs, tries to stop nagging at such a situation and adds a mental note to make him go to therapy once they are out. If they are out. So he is all tired, and she goes to help him with that wound, and he just stares at her, disgusted and shocked and saying that don't you DARE to touch me.

Lila is so confused buy apparently this made Five really believe that Lila is just like handler and is trying to use him and make him feel like he needs her just to get closer to him. Is he going to let someone else touch him? Even go near him? Absolutely not. No. No way.

So he runs away, and she barely makes it to not miss the subway by using his powers. Five is there, bleeding but still refusing help. He is about to die, and then she won't be able to copy anything and will probably stuck here forever, and she is the one who made this happen. Such a selfish person she is, thinking about herself in this moment when five is DYING, she thinks.

And when they are both at the last level of disappointment, the subway finally stops in were they wanted. Home. Their home.

It's been such a long time, 7 years.

Lila jist picks Five, running out. Five survives and Lila has a emotional hug with Diego (who wanted to fix everything) and her children and they sob and they talk and they really fix problems.

And then one of the siblings makes a comment on Five, saying how stupidly he trapped himself in a thing related to time again as if he is addicted.

Lila is about to just rush and kill that person. She yells that none of them never really cared about how traumatised he was and she realises she was like that too.

Anyways, Five wakes up and siblings are ready for emotional support and things go back to normal or at least a bit good. And him and lila have such a iconic friendship.

Also Diego tries to be the good brother that he told that Five was. Because Five deserves good brother too.

Also, you want romance? Throw a scene when he finds Delores or human Delores there and wants her so badly but Lila has to stop him because they should go and Five just hates this because he thinks she is just using his love for his wife like handler. (Got the human Delores idea from another tumblr post that I can't find now.)

TADA!!!

BETTER PLOT!!!

....damn I wrote a LOT. I may make it a fanfic-

So... yeah. Love to know your thoughts too, because we are all so angry.

[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[deoidesign]

Hello I stumbled across your profile and I just say I love your art style! I've gotta ask, how'd your develop it? And do you have any advice for someone who can't decide what they want their art to look like?

Thank you so much!

To be entirely honest, I don't feel like I truly "developed" my style. I feel a lot more like I finally let myself draw it! But I am incredibly deliberate with my work, and I do have clear tendencies and preferences... So I'll do my best to explain how I got to where I am now as an artist.

It's important to remember that "style" is something of a nebulous concept. It changes with you as you grow as a person, and most artists can work in and emulate many art styles! Art really is a form of communication with yourself, and your "style" is a reflection of the tendencies and preferences you have. My art does not look how it looked 5 years ago, and my art will look different 5 years from now too. I've changed, and my art reflects that!

(2012, 2018, 2023; two pieces I remember being incredibly proud of and considered my best work up til that point, and then my most recent piece)

What you need to do, as everyone will tell you, is study the fundamentals (anatomy, perspective, form and structure, lighting and shadow, color, and composition) so you have the proper tools to make the most informed decisions possible about your art, and so you can deliberately break or follow rules as you please for your desired effect. I know it sounds silly to learn rules if you're not gonna be following them anyways, but they help you be much more consistent and intentional! More knowledge is NEVER a bad thing to have!

However, I know it's a bit demoralizing to just be told to study fundamentals. Everyone knows you're supposed to do that, but it takes YEARS to learn, and people want their art to feel how they want it to now (which is very very very normal to want!)

So on that front, I have 2 follow up suggestions that I personally find helpful (of course, everyone is different, so it's not like this is the only way to learn! But, if it resonates with you, it might mean it will work for you too.)

1: Separate study from application

I believe this is beneficial for a few reasons:

If the goal of every piece is learning, it can become frustrating, overwhelming, and boring

It's harder to self critique when there are multiple variables to investigate. I like to study one fundamental at a time

Study (usually) works best with a large quantity of output, whereas application of knowledge (finished pieces) is often more satisfying and effective when you get to take your time

Deliberate practical application of what you've learned in a finished piece helps cement the learning in your mind, and also lets you get satisfying finished pieces with noticeable improvement after a good study session!

I've found that keeping these things separate helps me improve faster and more deliberately, and it takes a lot of the pressure off of both aspects! I'm not worried about my studies looking beautiful, they're just to learn! And I don't feel pressured to critique my finished pieces, cause they're just for fun and to make something pretty. I personally find this helps me have a much healthier relationship with my art.

When studying, copy! Copy things as best as you can, all the time. It gives you something to compare to for self critique (and of course, if you're copying someone else's work and you share the study, ALWAYS give credit, share the original, and say it was for study.) In application, don't copy: reference. Make it yours!

2: Let yourself do the things that feel "easy" or like "cheating"

This one is simpler: nothing in art is easy.

If something feels easy to you, most of the time it's not because it's actually any easier... It's because it's part of your natural tendencies and preferences! This took me forever to realize, but as long as you're actually doing some study, then you're learning. You don't need to learn All The Time. When you're doing the "application" portion, you should let yourself do whatever is actually the most fun and feels easiest! This is where your style will start to come through, and where you get to learn about yourself. Take the pressure off, and have fun!!!

The only cheating in art is theft. If you're not stealing, then it's allowed!

My whole life (and yes, still!) I'd get regular criticism about both my style and my subject matter. You will too. You'll see a thousand different styles, and a hundred different things to admire in each. Your heart will ache that you don't draw like others do.

But art is a form of communication with yourself. It's like your voice, or your accent; just something that's a part of you! It can be fun to mimic others', but when you sit to have a conversation you speak naturally. (I know some people want to and do change their voice, but this is a metaphor and metaphors aren't perfect)

Don't stress so much about what you want your art to look like, especially if you're not sure. There's a lot of value to be had in constant experimentation, I think it'd be rather boring to only draw one style the rest of my life. What I draw is what I want to see, right now, for who I am now! It's a part of me and comes naturally, if I let it!

I hope this helps!

[tsunael]

wolcred week |  4. 'broken / trust.'

She was a veritable tour de force– an absolute nightmare of a woman. Yet, despite what the bards might sing, she was just as human as any other.

-> part I.

-> cw: suggestive themes.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Wait– Gods– I’ll be sick.”

Overindulging in drink and dancing on bloody feet had left a typhoon of a woman clinging to the bark of a pixie apple tree for a semblance of stability.

He halted his stride with a huff and readjusted his grip on their youngest charge to wait with waning patience. He had half-expected to carry one of them home, but not certainly not Ryne, though he heard Alphinaud and Alisaie had met with similar fates. Y’shtola had done him a service and seen to their care, as well as Urianger's-- and must be thankful, for that was one man he did not want to carry across the Crystarium grounds.

That only left their most important cargo to him– how lucky he was-- and if Tsuna did not get ahold of herself, he feared he would soon find himself out of hands. 

He looked on past the treetops, to the early morning sky peeking through the crystal dome to find a moment to wax poetic. “Destroyer of Primals, Lightwarden’s Bane... but a flagon of ale has not ceased to bring the Warrior of Darkness to her knees, I see.”

Tsuna shot a pointed look in his direction. “P-Piss off,” she droned, half-way between a hiss and a whine. "You're making it worse."

All he could do was offer his own exhausted smirk at her expense. 

It was true. Tsuna Wasaishi could fell all manner of beasts with enough willpower and sheer dumb luck, but the stairs to her chambers seemed her most daunting adversary yet.

Ryne had been put to bed, which freed his attention to better escort the stumbling woman into his chambers on the first floor to circumvent the climb.

She fell upon his mattress in a heap, looking at once grateful for sturdy ground.

“Off,” she mumbled. Her knuckles tapped the hard cage of her corset and drew his exhausted sigh. “Please,” she added, weakly. Even at her wits end she still found it pertinent to be cordial, and he had no choice but to oblige.

Tsuna slumped forward for him, pulling her hair loose and tossing it over her clammy shoulder to better offer her laces. The cotton of the cincher was damp to the touch, her skin still shone with sweat. He thumbed the laces, pulling them free from the centre-outward, and as he broke her free from the busk, and immediately she began to breathe easier.

He had to wonder why one woman would put herself through so much for such pain just to numb another.

She offered him a shy look from over her bare shoulder, muttering something so incoherent he could only barely piece it together. “... stay with me?” she asked.

He was struck by the blunt force three words could bring. It was not as if they hadn’t shared a night in the past. Even so, he stood from the bed, only to prostrate himself before her, if only to make her more comfotable.

“I would not leave you in such a sorry state.” It was the truth, though he chuffed to hide from his own trepidation. “It’s all right. You needed this.”

Tsuna closed her eyes agreeably, and nodded, softly humming in perceived content as he fished for her ankle under her dress’ hem. 

“You’re my dearest friend, Thancred. Y'know that, yes?”

His hands paused. He knew. Gods, he knew. They mapped each other's hurts like no one else ever would.

How many times had he found himself wanting to sit outside her door for that very reason?

Slowly, she picked up her skirts before him, and rose them high to aid in his task. Completely unabashed, she revealed to him the shapely, naked length of her legs for a show. His eyes were drawn down to the map of scales hugging her sides, then up– up to the lazy, amused smile curling her lips. She looked down on him, a supplicant, and a familiar heat rushed through him.

“I could tell you anything,” she whispered, softer. “Couldn’t I?”

He bit his cheek, tilting his chin down, trying to focus on the matter at hand. 

“Of course.”

Thancred’s hands smoothed up her firm calves and carefully removed the battered heel from her right foot. Her soles were angry and blistered from her hours of revelry, and so with the same care he removed the left, though it was there that he lingered. The thumb on her calve began to move in easy circles to loosen the band of muscle grown taut with pain and overuse. Tsuna drew in a sharp breath and squirmed in his hands, and the hem rose higher still.

He crept up past her knee, and settled on her lower thigh before he stopped himself. 

He had broken her trust before, and he would not do so again– even if she were more than willing. 

“Keep going.”

Her hand clasped over his own, and drew it upwards, his thumb reaching beneath her skirts, to dip into the crease of her thigh for a tantalizing moment. He knew what she wanted, and he would visit all seven of the Hells if he admitted he wished the same. The Gods only knew how long he had been bereft. 

It took all he had to retract his hand, despite her protests. “I won’t,” he muttered firmly under his breath. “Not like this.”

“Why?" Tsuna sat upright, lips twisted in hurt. "Gods– Warm me.” He looked away, rueful, only managing to raise her frustration. “You said so: I need this–” Her voice fell soft, desperate. Her hands clasped his face, stroking lines across his cheeks in order to pull him in. 

She was looking for another way to drown, and he would not have a part in it.

“It wouldn’t be the first–”

“All the more reason not to make the same mistake twice,” he interrupted, pulling her hands from him. “Another time. Another place.” And he would.

A kiss was pressed to her palm, and she was struck silent.

He used the opportunity to stand, to begin the ritual of shucking his coat to prepare for his own rest, when without so much as a sound, she reached for his now-naked hand, and despite it all– despite everything– his thumb ran careful circles over her knuckle.

She needed something more than just a warm body beside her, and it was something he could not provide.

[melveres]

Amir Daydreamer - my other storm wizard 🌩️

The youngest son of a rich family and part kangaroo.

[wistfulwatcher]

i've been trying to stay positive about yjs all season because i desperately wanted to keep loving it but after last night's ep i just cannot pretend it's well-written anymore. that was the most nothing, poorly-paced episode i think we've gotten, at least for an ep that should be a CRUCIAL turning point. there was virtually zero exploration of the worst choice the teens make in 96 (the ritual discussion should have been a fucking bottle episode, tbh, with all that should have gone into it), and too much time spent recapping what we already knew in 21 (without it actually meaning anything/changing the characters when they learned). oof. just truly disappointing tbh.

[bang-bang-gang]

new chapter is up! mox has a Terrible Idea, hangman is behaving in odd and peculiar ways, and swerve may or may not have a piss kink we’re never going to be exploring in this fic.

i don’t care if mox has never seen a black tailed godwit in his life, i’m gonna guess, statistically, neither have you. but they’re bright red and an appropriate simile for blushing because I Say So. bird knowers please don’t doxx my location.

[whispers-of-masser]

Dragon's Tongue

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, minor angst; 1300+ words ♫ "You And I (Stripped)" - PVRIS ✒ Something short n sweet today, I'm feeling soft

Nebarra was loath to admit it to himself, and he'd die before ever saying it aloud, but the Rift really was beautiful. Nothing compared to Alinor, to be sure, but... all the gold reminded him of home. And when he passed by a small, isolated farm, he could almost see himself on its porch, see his brother leaning against the door.

The illusions were younger, happier versions of themselves. So much more innocent, faces bright with naivety, eyes shining with plans for the future.

And then he'd gone to war.

He'd lost... so much of himself, in the deserts of Hammerfell. They had scorched and burned him inside and out, slowly bleeding him dry with every comrade he saw fall. And all that, for what? For all the Altmer's supposed superiority, the campaign had failed on all fronts – Hammerfell's walls and people defied them, and Cyrodiil remained in power, weakened but still unbroken.

How could the Thalmor still strut about, arrogant to Aetherius and back, when they had failed so miserably? How could they look at the faces of the families whose children and lovers they'd sent to die and only tell them they'd "served their purpose"?

Nebarra couldn't.

He couldn't face them at all. Not even through pen and paper, leagues away from ever having to look them in the eyes, ever having to see the pain and loss in their gaze.

Where the Thalmor were heartless, he was a coward.

And he didn't know which was worse.

~~~

Night fell, and you called the group to halt, to make camp until dawn. Nebarra set up the tent as you argued with Xelzaz, trying to convince him that no, he shouldn't summon a flame atronach and then kill it for its fire salts, no matter how good it would make dinner taste. Khash merely looked on, muching on some clover she'd picked up somewhere.

At last though, you got Xelzaz to relent, though he asked you to gather some herbs in exchange, listing off the plants he wanted you to find.

"Ah... and take Nebarra with you."

The elf froze. Turned slowly towards the lizard. Demanded, "What? Why?"

"Two eyes are better than one," he shrugged, "and that much safer, as well. We don't know what's out there, and I'm pretty sure we passed a necromantic altar on our way here."

At that, you groaned, head rolling back like a teenager who'd just been told to do their chores. "Gods, not another one. Why do we always seem to run into those?"

"Luck of the Dragonborn? Anyway, off with you now – I have to get set up. Let's see, in whose pack did I leave my cooking pot...? Khash! Come help me with this!"

And just like that he walked off, leaving you and Nebarra alone by the campfire. A chuckle escaped you, and he glanced over to see you shaking your head. "I'm surprised he didn't tell us to hold hands, too, so we don't lose each other in the dark."

"Yeah, I'm not holding your hand," Nebarra snarked. And it was true. Absolutely true. Totally, one-hundred percent true.

"Oh wow, Nebs, that one almost hurt." Your soft laugh seemed to echo in his ears, his mind. "Come on, let's go – I don't suppose you heard any of the plants he wants?"

Blue and yellow mountain flowers, to restore and fortify. Purple for rejuvenation, and to give to Khash. Scaly pholiota for fiber and strengthening. Wild gourds and dragon's togue for flavour.

He snorted from behind his helm. "That would require paying attention to him."

"Should have known," you sighed. "Alright, listen up before I forget: blue, yellow, and purple mountain flowers, scaly pholiota, and dragon's tongue. And be careful with the purple mountain flowers, they're gifts for Khash. Oh, he also wants some wild gourds. Got it?"

"...Yeah, yeah. Let's just get going."

He definitely hadn't feigned ignorance just to hear your voice some more. Definitely not.

~~~

"Ah, back at last! Perfect," Xelzaz said, stirring something in a pot over the fire. "Now I can get the real meal started."

"Then what's this?" Nebarra demanded as Xelzaz handed him a bowl, in exchange for the plants the Altmer carried. Even through his gauntlets he could feel its warmth, and a rich, savory scent drifted up through the slits of his helmet.

"Something amazing, from the smell," you sighed, and Nebarra didn't have to look to know you were drooling.

"Just a little sometime to hold you over," the Argonian demurred, handing you a bowl as well. "Thought I'd experiment with some of the flora I've gathered thus far."

That gave Nebarra pause. "Wait – experiment? That's settled, I'm not eating this."

"If you don't want it–"

Your words were drowned out by Khash's eager shout of, "I'll eat it! I'll take your bowl!" She rushed over to him, red eyes trained on the food.

"Khash, you had your share," Xelzaz chided. "Any more and you won't have room for the rest of dinner."

"Yes, I will! I have room for anything you make."

"She's got a point," you laughed, and Nebarra slowly, wordlessly handed her the bowl.

"I'll go keep watch," he grumbled, turning away.

"Oh, don't be like that! Nebarra!" When he didn't respond, you sighed, calling after him, "Alright, go sulk! I'll make sure Xelzaz doesn't poison your share, though you kind of deserve it!"

His back still towards you, Nebarra raised his hand in a rude gesture, and your laughter rang through the night.

Some thirty minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching; he didn't need to turn to know it was you. Your tread was distinct from the others, weighted with determination and confidence, whereas Xelzaz's was soft and steady, and Khash's light and hesitant.

"Here. Eat." Despite the short words, your tone was gentle, and Nebarra looked over to see you holding a plate out towards him, laden with a slab of meat and wild berries to the side. "It's delicious, and unpoisoned."

"How would you know?" he sniffed, catching a whiff of the food in the process. It... did smell amazing. "Did you try it?"

"I did, actually. Stole some of your steak when Xelzaz wasn't looking. And since I'm still standing here pestering you, I guess that means it's clean."

Nebarra paused, eyes training on your face. Half of it was wreathed in shadow, only the gleam of your eyes visible; the other half was illuminated by the campfire, revealing the soft smile you wore.

You... had a nice smile.

And before he could stop himself, he mumbled, "You're not... pestering me."

Surprise flickered in your gaze – surprise, and something else. Something he told himself he didn't recognise, refused to recognise.

After a moment, you said softly, "That's... good to hear, then. Because I have something else for you, too." Reaching down with your free hand, you pulled something from your belt and held it out before him. "I saved one, 'cause it reminded me of you."

Nebarra stared. There, held gently between your fingers, was a dragon's tongue flower, petals open wide and colours vibrant in full bloom. "This... reminded you of me?"

"It's gold. Just like you."

"...You really do have trouble with your eyesight, don't you? These are orange."

"Eh, close enough." You shrugged, the smile never leaving your face.

Slowly, Nebarra reached out and, ignoring the plate of food, took the flower carefully, delicately from your grasp, cradling it in his palm. "...Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"You just did." As he raised a brow from the shadows of his helm, you set the plate on a nearby rock and tapped the gauntlet that held the flower. "You accepted it."

He couldn't deny it. "Think you got me all figured out then, huh?"

Something in your smile shifted, your gaze flickering. "No. Not yet, anyways. But... I think I'd like to." And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark, stunned.

And that night, as he sat in the shadows of the campfire, he stared at the flower for a long, long time.

[laugtherhyena]

I'm still not sure if i'll write Mayura and Hina back into the storyline in Csm part 2, but just know that post part 1 Mayura becomes the second biggest Chainsaw man hater

[cuz-reasons]

Rattling the bars of my cage once again with my indecisiveness

[ivyithink]

@kingslionheart come get your boys, please? your tags are yet again the sole reason for all ... this ..., whatever it is, existing, so i demand shared custody

also, i hope you don't mind me using this screenshot of your tags, tell me if you do!))

Ursula translates to "little she-bear", which both of them know, because they are smart, unlike me, who had to google for possible names and then vibrate exitedly when i found the perfect one (for me at least). her breed is the great pyrenees mountain dog, and those beauties grow up to be BIG big

[keeps-ache]

cuz i Don't need it to be detailed or very realistic with my worldbuilding! because L. ron hubbard existed at some point and