#mostly just tagging so i can find it later

[delicatebarness]

Omg pleaseeee can we have a super soft buckyxreader are in bed together (after activities) and he is having doubts about the New Avengers and his role leading them, reader comforts and reassures him. Anyway she wakes up the next morning to find him getting dressed into his new suit and they have a super soft/fluffy moment? Thank you sm!

someone worth following | bucky barnes

Summary: ^^ Request

Warning: Possible Thunderbolts* Spoilers | Bucky's Anxiety and Self-Doubt | Implied Intimacy / Non-Explicit

Word Count: 678

A/N: I fear I will never stop thinking about Bucky in Thunderbolts*. Also, I hope I did your request and Bucky justice! <3

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

It was long past midnight, and the whispered praises and tangled limbs had settled into a peaceful quiet. The room was warm, the kind of sticky heat that lingered after Bucky opened himself up to you—something he never allowed until you. 

He lay beside you, one arm wrapped around you. His vibranium fingers traced a lazy pattern along your spine, leaving goosebumps to raise in their wake. The other arm was tucked under his head. Your body shifted closer to him, and you let out a content sigh. But you felt it—the tension under your weight. He wasn’t in the room with you, not really.

“Bucky?” you murmured, resting your chin against his chest to look up at him. “Is everything alright?” 

For a second, he paused his fingers. And you thought that maybe he might pretend to be asleep. Until a slow exhale released what seemed like years’ worth of weight. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. 

Your brows furrowed, suddenly feeling wide awake. “With what?”

“This—” The arm which was previously under his head, now gestured around the room. “This team. Being their ‘leader’. Being an Avenger.” The title sounded bitter falling from his tongue. “Steve made it seem so easy. Why me? They’re all looking at me for answers I don’t have. Shit, I’m still trying to figure out who the hell I am.” 

“Bucky…” you whispered, lifted from him slightly to look at him properly. His blue eyes were fixated onto the tall ceiling like it held the secret cure to all his problems. After brushing a stray strand of his hair back from his forehead, your hand rested on his cheek. “You don’t have to be Steve.” 

“I know,” he said, yet there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “I just—I don’t want to let them down. I can’t get anyone else hurt. Or killed.” 

Leaning in closer to him, your fingers traced over the letters of dog tags and kissed his shoulder. Then his jaw. “You care, James Bucky Barnes. And that already makes you a better leader than most.” 

He turned toward you then, his eyes searching yours and his vibranium grip on your hip tightened.

“You’re steady even when you’re unsure and it’s hard. You think before you act… mostly. You listen. And you’ve never taken this role lightly. They trust you to lead them because they see your worth. And so do I.” 

He blinked, not responding straight away, at least not verbally. Something unreadable passed through his eyes before his arm tensed around you. Bucky pulled you in until you were chest to chest, nose to nose. 

“I’m scared,” he admitted in a breathy whisper. 

“I know,” you nodded. “But you’re not alone.” 

The other side of the bed was cold when you woke a few hours later. With a frown, you blinked against the morning light spilling in through the curtains. “B-Bucky?”

You alerted your attention over toward the vanity mirror upon hearing a rustle from the direction. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze landed on him.

Bucky stood, adjusting the collar of a dark, sleek suit near the mirror. It was black and matte, a subtle, modern armored texture adorning his broad frame. Tailored to him, in every way possible. A red star lined his right arm, catching the light, while his left—gold-and-black vibranium arm—shimmered, bold and unmistakable. The new Avengers insignia sat high, proudly on his chest. 

He looked strong.

Commanding. 

Like a leader. 

His expression softened when he caught your eye in the mirror. 

“You look incredible,” you said, unable to hide your smile tugging at your lips. He turned, and you watched his cheeks pink just a little. “Like someone worth following.” 

He chuckled quietly, crossing the room and leaning down to kiss you. He was soft, lingering. Your fingers reached up to his hair, scraping your nails over his scalp gently.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours. “Dinner tonight?” 

You smiled, nodding. “Don’t leave me waiting.”

___

[wistfullydistorted]

Too Early

librarian!Sevika x reader

Part 1:

warnings: none! mostly fluff, character study

7:02 am

Awareness repossesses you as the somber glow of gray skies and lazy wind slosh through your dainty curtains. Not even the birds greet you this late fall morning, but the ghostly alarm of an anxious Sunday sure does pry you awake. Your limbs move before your mind, teetering out of bed and scrambling for your phone to absentmindedly check the time. 

Last week’s outfits litter the floor, what’s with all the red recently? you shrug to yourself.  As you shuffle through your morning routine, your usual pep returns. You dare yourself to really look into the mirror, squinting, toothbrush caught in puffy lips, lavender bonnet askew. Too early. You finish up in the bathroom and finally undress your head, huffing an ironic laugh. Your braids were a tad bit older than you’d like to admit. Ah… compensating. 

Across the city, amidst the rare pinnacle of stillness, a dark form whisks by, upsetting heaps of autumn leaves. Sevika. Tall, imposing, and powerful, her swift strides command the wind. She rounds the corner of her block, only disturbing the silence with an exaggerated exhale as she halts her “light” 6 mile run. She glances at her watch, the sleeves of her navy sweatshirt bunched tight near the nexus of her trained forearm and bicep. Only an hour remains before she heads to work.

9:36 am

Your morning was slowed by the lingering eyes of your reflection. You rarely had time for this kind of criticism so your mind couldn’t resist. The same fervor that usually compelled you to sing into your morning tea and gleefully saunter to the nearby train station struck back with spite, as if you had wound it too far.

After a quiet breakfast and a brisk walk, you made it to the train. Eventually arriving mere minutes from your haven, you adjusted your giant red frames before letting them precede you into the crisp, fresh air. Your brief walk is concluded by the overwhelm of warmth and whispers of vanilla amidst old paper. You pause, eyes closed, breathing it all in for the first time in months. The library. My library. You could almost hear it claim you too. It was going to be a—

“Good morning,” Her voice was kurt but rang with amber soul. You took in her statuesque form, obvious even under her loose linen blouse. Golden skin overlied effortful sinew, but the lazy wave of her nearly shoulder length black hair betrayed a peace that— too early. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Good morning! No, sorry, I’m just here to… browse…” You could barely focus on finishing the sentence. Sevika, her name tag read. Sevika, you repeated back to yourself. 

“Alright, well if you do need anything, feel free to let me know,” she offered what you prayed wasn’t just a customer service smile and returned her focus to the three-monitor spread before her. 

Smiling to yourself, you glide past the front desk, your simple, pale yellow dress billowing behind you. Your melodic sway set her eyes alight and she simply tacked you on to her mental list of things to do later. She wasn’t one to get distracted, but who dares ignore a shooting star? 

11:23 am

The old window creaked beside your reading nook as you tried to refocus on the print within the pages of your mystery novel. Maybe you chose the wrong genre… the exposition was taking far too long and you were just here looking for something to reinvigorate you. Somehow the book finds its way into the reshelving cart and you return to browsing. 

“Still looking, hon?” Hon…her velvet voice rumbled in a way that soothed your muscles. Sevika. Your shoulders forgot their tension as if to coax your head in her direction. Closer now, you caught her steel gray eyes and your grin was automatic. She awaited your response with a raised eyebrow and smirk stunted by professional restraint. 

“I can’t find anything enthralling enough,” you pout. “I’m just…just trying to claw myself out of this slump and a good book usually helps.”

“Well maybe a book isn’t what you should be looking for,” she grins a little too wide, proud of the subtle insinuation. Her dark lined lips peel away to reveal a slight tooth gap. Your smile refuses to leave, but you roll your eyes…too early. Maybe you do like a lengthy exposition; your eyes wander over to the reshelving cart.

“Really?” your brows pinch in feigned confusion. “Are you suggesting I leave the library?” 

She crosses her arms and slowly steals the distance between you. You’re swallowed by the impossible scent of a distant beach… salt, musk, and citrus? You swallow it back. She’s close enough for your involuntary sigh to gently stir her midnight locks. 

Heat rises to your ears as you take in the harmonious arches of her nose and cheekbones. Her sweeping eyelashes frame her searching gaze, but you can’t give her what she’s looking for. Not now.

You take a step back, resisting her gravity. Her smile falters and her hands move to adjust the beaded glasses chain suspended on her neck. 

“I– ” you start.

“No, God, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t h—” you cut her off with a raised hand and eyes lidded with cautious restraint. You shook your head. 

“Sevika…” Sevika… it was delicious and the sound of her breath catching just washed it down. Your belly ran warm with something. And you were hungry for more. Of this tension. Of this saccharine hedonia. “... just time.” You inhale, absorbing composure. 

“Time,” she echoed, grasping for understanding. 

“Find me a good book for next Sunday, hon,” this time you attempted to contain your smile for her sake. 

And with that, her star flits across the sky and out of her vision. 

You stride out with nothing more than a seed in your heart and a skip in your step. 

She paces the aisles in a contemplative silence that she hadn’t been beholden to in years. Flashes of pale yellow, beautiful brown, and a dot of red miscolor her vision. Your presence had briefly suffocated her burly ego. So as it reels, gasping for breath and reclaiming its hold, Sevika fumed through the remainder of the day.

a/n: first time writing fanfiction, very open to criticism! super excited for the rest :)

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

random omegaverse thought:

There must be people who experience specific instinct things with indifference or boredom.

Procreative cycle coming up? "Crap, I've got plans this weekend...stupid skip weeks."

Caught an intriguing scent while walking? "But I need to get to work! Shut up brain."

Had a snap response to a distressed sound? "Who was it?! ...right, it's my day off, I can go back to sleep."

Somebody growled at them? "Kid, I'm not a rival, that's my sibling."

Super cozy cuddle session happening nearby? "I'm gonna pass tonight guys, no social battery left, maybe next time."

Group of friends heading out to flirt and check out other singles? "I'm coming with you but only to make sure you all get home safe."

Setting where fated mates or soul bonds or permanent marks are a thing? "Meh. I don't really want one or care if I ever get one."

People in the actual omegaverse would get as bored of their stuff, as we do of ours, you know? It could be interesting to see that kind of vibe in fics. Biological demands faced with all the excitement of paying bills or doing laundry or tying your shoes.

Even if that kind of energy might not drive a plot, it could be interesting to have as a contrast to the people who do have big feelings about them - good or bad.

There's the friends who can't wait til they have a pack of their own, and the one friend who isn't against it but couldn't care less. There's the group in the office who are all about scent compatibility tests and figuring out one's best match and what sprays most highlight it, and the coworker who has no intentions on putting that much effort in. There are parents who hover and protect their offspring by scenting them multiple times a day, and others who don't see what the fuss is as long as it's done in the morning.

...also: packs with introverts who show care by giving each other space. So often, closeness is depicted through physical touch and tactile affection, but comfortable silence is meaningful too. Knowing people are near, but not having to interact until you're ready. Sitting in the same room doing different things, knowing that all it takes is a "hey, look at this" to share what you're up to. People understanding and accepting each other's differing or fluctuating needs for how and when to recharge. Seeing somebody reaching out or sharing space, beyond what's their norm, as a signal of the fact that they care.

[localhypnofruit]

Hey DST fans. Here are multiple paragraphs about WX-78 as a system because I cannot contain myself any longer.

When it comes to WX-78, there are three parts. WX (current host and protector), Woodrow (trauma holder and ex-host), and Waggy (caretaker?). WX and Woodrow are very hard to tell apart since they act very similarly and sometimes even blend together. Waggy acts the most different out of the three, but only shows up when the system (bodily and/or mentally) is running on empty and neither of the other two are around.

How to tell Woodrow apart from WX: Woodrow speaks with fewer robot terms than WX does. They still have a distaste for organic life but still calls things by their names (which includes survivors, though still calling them organic as an insult- Ex. "fleshling Wilson"). They also move less rigidly than WX despite the body not being fully accommodating for those types of movements. Woodrow also can occasionally be found sitting for long periods looking at themself or "brooding" due to thinking on/re-experiencing past events, and taking less care of the body than WX would. Some survivors even call them reckless or irresponsible for lacking "their" usual self-sufficiency. When it's just Woodrow piloting, they tend to have trouble seeing far-away things. Along with this, they can rarely be seen with a square light inside one of their usually empty eye sockets.

More about WX: WX is obviously more rigid in movement and (usually) speech. They use nicknames for animals and survivors in a typically demeaning way, and holds themself with pride over organic life. They think more on self-preservation than Woodrow. Though they do attempt to take care of themself, they often forget or don't do things they should for their pride. They're also capable of understanding what's best for the group better than the other two, even if they don't like caring for organics. WX also holds a fascination for the moon that Woodrow doesn't have.

Waggy... Not Exactly Wagstaff: Waggy shares a fascination with the moon like WX, but doesn't respond to the body's name. He typically goes off on his own endeavors, but has the most friendly demeanor compared to the other two. He's unaware of his own predicament and just winds up being curious about all that's around him and how he can benefit from it. Waggy takes the most care of the body to a selfish degree, even tricking others into giving him more than he needs. If the demeanor wasn't obvious enough, he causes the body's optics to form a large white pupil in one eye socket. This abnormal amount of light makes him practically blind to things not in front of his face. Thankfully, again, Waggy rarely shows himself unless there are specific circumstances with the system.

Memory Issues, Huh: None of these three are aware of being a system, nor do they know of each other's existence. The only way they'd figure that out is if another survivor were to point it out to them, and even then they likely wouldn't acknowledge it. Woodrow and WX share most of their memories with each other (aside from the ones of the past that Woodrow holds), so most gaps in memory are from when/if Waggy shows up- as Waggy shares no memories with the other two.

There are still plenty of thoughts I'm thinking about this but this post is already too long and this is just a general explanation of the system on its own.

[carnelianwings]

Since I'm not sure if I'll ever get the chance to properly touch on this in a fic because it's more character analysis than something I can properly include in dialogue/exposition without it being very awkwardly out of place and telling not showing, I figured I'd just dump it here. It's something I think about a lot whenever I write for post-Seed Destiny Athrun in a fic, because in so many ways, this is actually something of a non-magical "Ideal (Fake) Reality" situation that Durandal very nearly succeeded in pulling off, but ultimately failed at because Durandal overplayed his hand and underestimated Athrun's loyalty to his friends Kira, who was pulling triple duty opposing Athrun because Kira himself didn't agree with what Athrun was doing, protecting Cagalli, and supporting Cagalli at a time when she was powerless.

It's a trope I very much love in magical/sci-fi settings because it says a lot about the character and the lengths they'll go to get what they want (the willingness and determination to take the longer, harder path to make the dream reality vs the instant gratification option even if it's fake), and also just gives me so much to work with when I write when it comes to character motivation/dialogue/actions.

I feel like a lot of this gets missed in all the memes that he's (somewhat deservedly) suddenly a part of after Seed Freedom, because while Seed Freedom Athrun is very self-assured and confident in his course of action, he definitely took a long hard road (with more downs than ups, in my opinion) between Seed and Seed Destiny to get there.

(Rest behind the cut because there's a reason Athrun Zala is my favorite Seed character, and not just because he's got a lovely voice - thank you Ishida-san for that - and is easy on the eyes.)

When Athrun re-enlists in ZAFT and "continues" his life again as himself, he's given a choice thanks to Durandal's string-pulling: Resume the life that was planned for him by his parents and PLANT (his "destined" life, if you will), or find his way back to the life that he's chosen for himself (with Cagalli and Orb).

If he chose his "old" life, he would've had it all - the glory of being a decorated war veteran, a post as a FAITH member (resuming the role he'd previously gotten thanks to his father), a "Lacus Clyne" for his fiance, and the honor of being the pilot of the Legend (while being something of a "legend" himself). Durandal saw to it Athrun would've seamlessly resumed that life to all external appearances, even if it would've been an absolute sham behind closed doors. Athrun might be a decorated war veteran, but that came with a lot of trauma and grief - trauma from having to fight and kill at such a young age, grief at being the one to survive when those he'd called friends die around him, plus all the unresolved emotional turmoil and grief of having never been able to properly resolve things with his father and his genocidal ideals (because Patrick Zala, too, was a man who never got over his grief at losing Lenore during the Bloody Valentine Incident, and only became the way he did because of that). He might've had a highly coveted position within FAITH, but that power would ultimately be in service to Durandal (a head of state Athrun alternates between wanting to agree with and being directly at odds against). Durandal needed more capable "Yes men" ace pilots like Shinn Asuka to spread and enforce his plans, not people capable of thinking for themselves like Athrun (at least, Athrun got there after Operation Angel Down). The "Lacus Clyne", is, of course, Meer under the best cosmetic surgery money could buy, but she is nothing like Lacus Athrun knows and cares for as a friend and whose cause he had once lent his power to (and would again at the end of the Second War).

And the Legend? It might fit Athrun in name only (in the sense that he's the "legendary pilot who helped end the first Earth-PLANT War) but the entire suit (even if it had an updated OS for the DRAGOON system) doesn't even play to Athrun's core strengths as a pilot. It's almost comedic how Durandal didn't even bother tailoring the Legend to Athrun - the Saviour is more Athrun's style both as a spiritual successor to the Aegis and weapons load out, yet it's coincidental that it would end up in Athrun's hands. There's no way Durandal could've known and planned for the Saviour to go to Athrun, but Durandal arguably had that time with the Legend. In the episode where both the Destiny and Legend are revealed, Durandal made a point of telling Shinn the Destiny was fine tuned to him, but neglects to tell Athrun much about the Legend beyond the DRAGOON system and the updated OS for it (the closest Athrun arguably ever came to a DRAGOON system was flying right past Kira and Rau's duel in front of Genesis at the end of Seed).

On the flip side of that, there's the life Athrun had chosen for himself after the first Earth-PLANT War. It's not an ideal life, not by any means - the fact he's essentially a powerless civilian with no means to reach for his ultimate goal chafes him to no end, especially when there's the ever-looming threat of Cagalli getting taken away from him due to circumstances neither of them want nor are able to deal with. Cagalli can't get out of the arranged marriage, Athrun as "Alex Dino" has no claim to power and as "Athrun Zala" would only invite larger scale international problems - even if Athrun himself has no political ties to PLANT, his family name says plenty. Athrun is patient, yes, but even his patience has a limit, and seemingly losing Cagalli to someone he doesn't respect and she doesn't love (in a reversal of Athrun's situation with Lacus and Kira) pushes him to action out of desperation. And while it puts him at odds with Kira and Cagalli (including lashing out at both of them when Cagalli finally breaks down and gives in and gets coerced into going through with the arranged marriage), it does also get him to realize that he's not the same person he was before the war - he's no longer capable of living that same life he had before, where he would fight where his country tells him because that's the fastest way to end the war. The easy (destined, if you will) option is no longer an acceptable choice for him, because it's not the one that ultimately leaves him fulfilled and truly happy with the one he loves in the end.

And it's this that ultimately brings him back to Cagalli and the (Infinite) Justice, metaphorically reclaiming his sense of justice (ha ha). He's always going to be looking for a cause to serve, and a just cause by his own terms, because he's dedicated far too much of his life serving in the military to just stop doing that and he's spent too much time around Lacus to just mindlessly follow whatever the higher ups say, anymore. So this leaves the only way forward: serve under a head of state whose ideals he can agree with, with the freedom of choice to act according to his own sense of justice, and to that end, there's only one choice for him - return to Orb and Cagalli.

[pineappical]

actually yknow what heres what ive been working on in roblox for the past 2 days

[act11as]

I dont know if anyone's done this before but I couldn't find it so I made my own

[thorntopieces]

i think the conclusion i've come to regarding writing nico's age is that: considering everything he's been through one year doesn't matter all that much.

when looking at thalia and the time she spent as a tree, she wakes up at the end of SoM feeling 12 mentally, being 17 chronologically but being judged as 15 by apollo at the start of TTC. so she's aged physically while being a tree, but slower, and since she was entirely unconscious, didn't feel like she aged. i think a similar logic can be applied to nico and bianca

being trapped in the lotus casino for ~7 decades seems to have felt like "a while", though not a year - because i think bianca would have been more worried about time passing. their bodies would not have physically aged there, but with the breadth of experiences in there (especially after the lethe), the sheer amount of input, some of it from the passing outside world, it makes sense to me that nico would develop mentally, perhaps by about "a year" in terms of intellectual/emotional development

so by the time he leaves the lotus casino he's still 10 years old biologically, 70/80-something chronologically and around 11 mentally/in actually lived years. at the end of BoO, physically 13 years and 7 months (assuming a birthday of 1932/01/28) but in lived years about a year older, therefore identifying himself as "around fourteen"

i think it's a nice balance between what the books actually say and rick riordan's claim of nico being 15 in tsats (which is probably just a mistake on account of him being allergic to calendars and consistency)

[cathymee]

maybe it's to maintain a sense of tension & turmoil that would eventually reach an explosive peak, a sense of tug-of-war, a back-and-forth to hammer home the ideals they want to deliver and for the viewers to chew on, but although these arguments regarding hiroshi & his stance as a man torn between his loyalty for his country & the loyalty for his Filipino friends and lover is of course important, how they write these scenes & the points they present from this week alone is getting too repetitive...? literally the argument scenes from last night & tonight between adelina & hiroshi is basically the same; the ideas were the same, the dynamics were the same: the aggressive, radical adelina, bristling rage and fear over the injustices she's seen thus far, and the cautious, inspiriting hiroshi, all hopefulness and reassurance one moment as a lover, defensiveness and sternness as a japanese soldier in another. this debate will be ever-present ofc, it is one of the series' biggest conflicts, but it is unfortunately so easy to tell when it is a.) being pulled up as a main topic to move the plot along / be a necessary conflict for character development/introspection / be the conflict to deliver the morals & messages the writers want to send to their viewers, or b.) when it is being pulled up only for the drama and filler to pass the time. like watching the characters sit down to argue for 10 minutes, do other things for the plot for 2 minutes, then sit down again to argue for the next 20 minutes. lol.

[amrv-5]

survived Badly (argh) but going to work on fic for as long as I continue to enjoy doing so then switch over -- see if I can find somewhere to watch The 400 Blows and probably cry forever and dehydrate and feel soooo sad and then feel better after. Thank you French New Wave

[snowangeldotmp3]

going to be a bit busy today. trying to finish up the first rebel robin: surviving the upside down chapter AND fix a scene in kas max + write more of the second chapter but i leave you with a deleted Will POV from the rebel robin au:

Will tries to take a deep breath, tries to steel his nerves, his shaking hands, but coughs instead. The air is thin, but suffocating. Like you’ve been taken to the top of a mountain, and then had a stone lying on top of you. His eyes finally begin to adjust to the cool blue atmosphere around him, the flakes that dance in the air, some stagnant, some drift slowly, like snow, or falling leaves. Distantly, he remembers his fourth grade class pet, Wilbur the goldfish, and the falling flakes remind him of the fish food. “Asbestos,” says the girl, breaking him from his memories as she inspects the floating specks, moving to the vines and tentacles that cover the floor and walls. Will tries to take a step, but her hand shoots out to stop him. “Careful. I think…I think these vines are alive.” Will watches as she gets her face close to one, hovering over it as it begins to pulse and wriggle, like a heart, or like it’s breathing. “You step on one,” she says, trailing off. Will gets the idea, he answers softly. “You hurt them. Which brings the monster back to us.”

[notsatyr]

Two months on T and I've been getting people express uncertainty about my gender already I'm soooo stoked :D

I'm really not sure why? The only obvious change is my voice, which is deeper but to people who know me mostly just sounds like I'm sick lol

but yeah one of my major motivations for medically transitioning was how fucking hard to was to get people to use my prefered pronouns, with them feeling the need to ask in the first place being out of the question. Like idk why but pre-T no one ever really asked for my pronouns which sucked. When i insisted on my prounouns, it also almost sucked more to watch people have such a hard time gendering me correctly even when they tried than to just outright be misgendered. I want to at least exist is a way that makes people unsure of what my pronouns are. I want people to ask or to assume and have the assumption be different day to day and person to person. idk. I'm happy to be closer to that, for whatever reason <3

[scionshtola]

i think i might need to extend cori’s timeline between the end of enw and the start of dt 🤔

right now cori spent a few weeks in the infirmary in old sharlayan -> a week at most in their apt in sharlayan -> a few weeks with shtola in dravania -> a month or more by themself on their island -> two or so weeks with shtola on the island -> a few weeks doing patch stuff -> goes to tural

the end of enw wasn’t a completely happy time for cori and left them in a pretty mentally/emotionally vulnerable place even after their physical recovery. cori’s got ptsd and nightmares from the body swap, the scions deaths, and the zenos fight. they still can’t cast. and now they are being asked to get involved in politics again and thrust into the role of mentor.

i’m not generally against the idea of cori mentoring (she and shtola are mentor for a teen when they’re older!). i wasn’t really that invested in the way it was implemented in the game and do think the wol could have been given more of a connection to the story/antagonist/just more things to do? there was like a whole quest where mostly what you did was carry things for wuk lamat bc she couldn’t be trusted lol. also i mostly enjoy when the other characters don’t make cori feel like they are a weapon to be deployed at their will which has been kind of a fascinating thing to see everyone enjoy so much but anyway. im here to talk about making things work

so i think probably my options are to extend the timeline until cori is in a place where they would be interested in sort of taking wuk lamat under their wing and being involved in all this (obv cori wants to help when they find out about zoraal ja, but i don’t think wanting to help necessarily leads to wanting to mentor). or make her—sweet, kind, always wants to help—cori unsure about it? and liking and being fond of wuk lamat but not so fond of this role she’s been forced into. idk. probably i need to play it again or read the script to solidify things.

i do know cori feels bad about letting things with sphene go so far, they had their suspicions upon meeting her (cori gives sphene this really funny up and down once over look when they first meet that unfortunately screenshots do not fully capture. but i watched the scene twice bc it made me laugh) but didn’t voice them enough. maybe actually cori sucks at being a mentor right now. maybe it’s a learning thing for them both!

[medicinemane]

Ah... I've figured it out!

My brain's been treating Caucasus and Carpathian as the same word and that's why it's been so confusing why this mountain range seems to jump around by a pretty wide margin

Dyslexia did the same thing with Austria and Australia where just like here I knew they were different, but just didn't quite process it, which ended up with me thinking things like "Wow, I wonder why Falco's German is so spot on, like that's pretty impressive for an Australian"

Like my dyslexia just says "These two words are similar size and shape... I think they're probably more or less the same word, I'll file them away in the same spot, especially cause they're the same type of thing"

But I finally caught it seeing Carpathians mentioned being in Ukraine, and me being like "I really did think they were more over towards Georgia... maybe they go under the black se... wait a minute, I finally figured out why I'm confused"

Also see the Balkans and the Baltic where I 100% know the difference and know which one I'm talking about but very much may say the wrong one (and my dad's been like "oh you see, you just need to remember that..." and it's like dude it's dyslexia... also with GK Chesterton I'll often say "J" and my dad'll say similar stuff and it's like dude... there's no mnemonic here, J and G just sound and look similar enough my brain sometimes swaps them in behind my back)

Anyway, finally caught it in the act, finally understand why it seemed like these mountains jumped across a large body of water and no one ever commented on it... it's cause it was my dyslexia filing them away as both mountain ranges starting with C so... basically the same thing... yeah... yeah that's the same thing

[keeps-ache]

my computer wants to update so bad. which is a real shame,

[irithind]

Ok, I fully agree about destigmatizing nudity, but I feel like it doesn't hurt to tag it tho. I mean... People tag #tw: food even, in case somebody has eating disorders or bad experiences. So it feels like just putting "nudity" makes sense. If you don't agree, pls let me knoe why, coz I kinda don't see the problem here, but I may be wrong.

we need to get more normal about nonsexual nudity i think