#keep the spark alive

[world-prayers]

Ways To Fire Up Relationship Intimacy and Romance

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[nonbinary-octopus]

another concept that I think would be interesting to explore in fic, is What do the Rimworld colonists think of the player?

What are you to them?

You design the colony, and they will build everything you lay out, no questions asked.

You decide what their priorities should be, and even if you make stupid decisions that put their lives in danger, they will follow that order without question.

You can give them a long to-do list, and the only reason they'll stop before completing it (aside from you telling them to stop), is if they physically cannot continue, because they're ready to collapse of hunger or exhaustion. Or are in such a bad mood they have a mental break.

Why are they so willing to obey you? What are you, that they trust you so unflinchingly, and let you dictate their lives?

You are capable of being in multiple places at once, as demonstrated when part of the colony is in a caravan several days' travel away, and yet you can instruct both groups in the same moment.

Time does not flow over you the same way that it does the colonists. There are times where you notice things too late, yes, but there are also times when, the very moment disaster strikes, you have a plan as though you were able to deliberate for hours during the span of a breath.

You have not aged. You were here when the first pod crash-landed, you bore witness as their children were born, you watched over them as they grew into adults, and you were there still, as they reached reached old age. You will be there for as many generations as exist in this land.

What are you?

[orion-nottson]

slide scale of decepticons on how likely you are to survive as their pet.

[alpydk]

The dagger pierced his chest, and yet he was not scared. There was only the slow rhythmic beat of his heart, the pulsing of the orb, the memories of better days behind him. He did not think of planes, of the end, of Mystra. He simply thought of you, of starlit nights, of woven kisses. There was no fear, no sadness, no pain. There was only a new beginning. There was only you.

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[couthbbg]

also 1634 still not scoring

[strawberryshortcake1495]

Bill’s punishing Ford for not finishing the portal ❤️

Original image/reference:

+a timelapse!

[annebethchase]

They could never make me hate her when this is how she makes little girls feel

[spark-circuit]

me refusing to take any of Sunday's meticulously-rehearsed Order fanfiction stageplay or his threats about ascending to godhood seriously

[small-spark-of-light]

heres some thoughts on Infectat from evadare!! i dont think he can talk, so he uses sign language :0

[tzufcallsmeshomps]

I've decided to start posting art again, despite the grim situation online. The war still isn't over, and heck, I dunno if I'll emerge unscathed in the end, but gotta take a note from my ancestors and live to the best of my ability in spite of it all

[suusoh]

me and the overwhelming urge to not think about my problems and just play tetris all day

[studentbyday]

I can't believe I'm saying this but I can't wait for Spetember... it's a fleeting feeling but I just wanted to capture it while it lasted lol

[divinechieko222]

i don't like that so much of the gym content geared towards women and young girls is focused on building your glutes. it's never advertised as a way to stay active and healthy. it's always about making your body more desirable for others. what is the purpose of having a larger ass and how exactly is it beneficial? what makes a smaller ass less beneficial. it's all aesthetics but who exactly are these aesthetics for? you could say it's for yourself but why is that body shape the one you desire? women's bodies continuously go and out of style, but my question is, is my body for me or is it for the viewing pleasure of others?

[scorchrend]

holy shit this mode is fucking terrifying what do you mean i have to fight 2 doubles at once. i struggle enough with ONE double. one floor thats basically a cage fight with ej you must be NUTS

anyways in one seating i got through 70 levels. i feel fucking insane

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

[**Theme from "2001: A Space Odyssey" plays**]

In the beginning, the comedic duo of Abbot & Costello brought the world "Who's on First?".

Now, the world's most unlikely duo of idiots bandmates bring you "Who's on Third?"😉