#not many authors who do what i do?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

some misc Barn & Wally doodles from the past week or so <3 i heart them

[bluastro-yellow]

Kurvitz stresses that Kim doesn't actually have a character sheet hidden in Disco Elysium's code. Imagining that Lieutenant Kitsuragi has only one natural attribute point in Motorics helps the ZA/UM team to understand the depth of his character beyond what's referenced in the game's dialogue. "We just came up with this stuff for coherency," says Kurvitz. "And because we're nerds."

"I like to think Kim has a Thought Cabinet project called Revolutionary Aerostatic Brigades that he's worked on since he was a teenager," Kurvitz says. "This raises the learning caps for his Reaction Speed and Interfacing."

Kim's high Volition skill makes him impervious to prying, Kurvitz says, as the detective can find out on occasions being met with Kim's brick-wall resolve. Kim often chastises these whims of the detective's, but will occasionally play along. The Lieutenant finds his new partner funny, says Kurvitz.

Kim is naturally shit at Motorics and thinks Harry is funny source

[phoenixcatch7]

It's always funny to me when in an lu fic the chain is offered bananas and don't accept them. Like, you're offering these high energy adventures free food?? Fruit they'll have never even heard of before??? A ridiculously expensive imported good at best?? AND it boosts your attack?

Not ONE of these idiots would ever turn down something new and interesting to eat at least once. They'd be all over those bananas and immediately get dubbed yiga and I'm honestly surprised no one has used it in a fic yet 🤭

[bucephaly]

It's kinda shocking to me how few people seem to know how prevalent the 'my great grandmother was cherokee' myth is and how it's almost never actually true, especially when it comes with things like 'never signed up' or 'fell off the trail' or 'courthouse burned down destorying the documentation' etc etc.

People just don't even seem to know the history like.. when the Trail happened. My great great great grandfather was 2 years old during Removal in 1838, so peoples 'my great grandmother hid in the mountains!' is so clearly wrong. And we have rolls. From before and after removal, rolls done by cherokee nation and others by the government, rolls that were not stored in one random flammable courthouse. It's not difficult to find the actual evidence of ancestry.

And just.. there are lots of ways those family stories get started. It was a practice during the confederacy to claim cherokee ancestry to show one's family had 'deep roots in the south' that they were there before the cherokee were removed. Many people pretended to be cherokee and applied for the Guion-Miller payout just to try to steal money meant for cherokees - 2/3rds of the applicants were denied for having 0 proof of actual cherokee ancestry. [We even see lawyers advertising signing up for the Miller roll just to try to get free money.] And the myth even started in some families in the cherokee land lotteries, where the land stolen from us was raffled off, including the house and everything that was left behind when the cherokees were removed. We have seen people whose families just take these things stolen from the cherokee family and adopt them into their own family story, saying that they were cherokee themselves.

If you had some family story about being cherokee and you wanna have proof one way or the other, check out this Facebook group run by expert cherokee genealogists that do research for free. Just please read the rules fully and respect the researchers. They run thousands of people's ancestries a year and their average is only around 0.7% of lines they run actually end up having true cherokee ancestry.

[tennessoui]

it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Shinsou: I hate all those things that were like, “they used to be so strong and funny…. ThEn [insert trauma here], now they are a shell of what they once were”

Shinsou: I can be traumatized and still be strong and funny. I’m the funniest fucker I know

Tsuyu: yesterday you said that you wanted to enter a coma so you didn’t have to deal with an authority figure being mad at you again

Shinsou: both can be true, am I not allowed to have duality, tsuyu??

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

[disastergenius]

by far the worst take i've seen so far post-ep19 of Junior Year is that having a week-by-week live play would have allowed fans to essentially influence the direction of the story in the way they want it to go and that would have resulted in the cast being more sympathetic to the Ratgrinders (ie getting them a redemption arc)

why do you feel the need to try and control this story? YOU ARE NOT THE ONE TELLING IT. if you want to tell a story please go write your own, or go write fanfiction to cope or whatever but you don't get to say that the players are telling the story wrong when it's their story they are telling

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[jadewritesficshere]

Warmth

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie takes you home after work (1150 words)

Contents: Reader suffers from chronic pain, smoking weed, no gender descriptors for reader, reader is called Baby

Please note I am not a doctor and do not take any medical advice from me ok thanks also each person's health is different from someone elses so please be kind to each other thanks bye

You sigh as you finally lock the door for the store. You had started the day out with working your regular shift. Which had been fine, even if you had felt a little stiff. Then that coworker called in sick...again. And your boss begged you to stay late...again. You had wanted to say no, but the prospect of getting a bit extra in your paycheck, well, you couldn't pass it up.

But now your body was screaming at you. Working for twelve hours had your joints aching. Some days you could barely roll over in bed without the pain. Could barely think a coherent thought as your joints and muscles screamed at you.

And other days, the good days, you felt you could run a marathon. Not because of an absence of pain, but the pain was so little compared to what you were used to it felt like nothing. Some days started like this and ended like the bad days.

And today was ending like a bad day. Especially because that one manager, the one who seemed to not like you, was on duty. Your boss, the sweetest old man in the world, didn't care if you sat in a chair at your register. But the manager who came in for the evening shift once the boss was gone? Took it away and called you lazy, even if you were the best cashier they had.

You slowly but steadily made your way to the van that was sitting idle in the parking lot. Through the passenger window you can see Eddie smoking a joint. When you opened the door, startling Eddie, smoke furled out. You climbed in and slammed the door shut.

"You know this is just begging for someone to call Hopper right?" You groan as you turn to grab your seat belt. "Figured you'd wanna smoke and relax a bit, thought I'd get it started for you." Eddie's arm reaches across you grabbing the seat belt before you could and buckling you in. "I can do it myself," you mumble.

"Yeah, you can. But maybe I want to take care of my Baby, hm?" Eddie hands you the joint," When you said you'd be late earlier, you uh said you already weren't feeling the best. Figured I could do what I can to help. Not that you can't do it yourself, you can, but you know-" "I know. Thanks."

It still was hard to accept that this is how your life was. Even harder to accept help. The thought that people were helping out of pity made you want to scream, even if you knew some people, like Eddie, were helping because they loved you not because they pitied you.

The van roars to life as Eddie presses the gas a bit too hard, causing the entire van to lurch. Eddie winces and mutters an apology. You inhale on the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You crack a window to let the smoke out, humming as you close your eyes.

By the time you make it to Eddie's, you can feel the weed in your system. Softening the edges of everything. The pain easing up slightly as you relax.

Eddie tumbles out of his side, almost face planting, as he rushes to get to your door. He throws the door open and bows, "My liege." You huff out a laugh as you graciously take his hand, gripping it tightly as you step down and out of the van. Eddie winks at you as he kisses the top of your hand, causing you to swat at him. Eddie chuckles as he drops your hand to go and open the door of the trailer.

You follow Eddie inside and to his room after kicking off your shoes. Your only thought is laying down and going to sleep. You barely shrug out of your uniform before collapsing onto his bed. Usually, Eddie would make some joke about getting naked, but tonight he forgoes that and instead dims he lights, sensing how tired you are.

Eddie's bed is old and yet somehow more comfortable then yours (probably because Eddie moves around so much in his sleep he doesn't stick to just one spot like you do, which causes your mattress to deflate and sink in one spot). You toss the nearest blanket over you, sighing in relief that you made it through the day.

You can hear Eddie enter and leave the room a few times, mumbling to himself. The sound of his rings hitting his dresser. The creaking of the drawers opening and shutting as he finds something to wear to bed. The distant beeping of a microwave going off before Eddie leaves the room again.

"Made you something," Eddie says as he reenters the room. "Not hungry," you mumble into the pillow. "Its not food- well, it is but not anymore? I mean we could eat it buuuuuttt..."

You peek an eye open to look at Eddie. In his hands is an oddly shaped lump. You can recognize the familiar pattern as the curtains in Eddie's room (and the realization there are no curtains anymore hits you). You can tell it was supposed to be a rectangle, but is more oblong like an oval.

Eddie gingerly places it against your back and- oh. It's warm.

Eddie crawls onto the bed next to you," Remember the heating pad? How it died? Well, figured might as well make my own and save us some money. Filled with rice, so if we really need to I guess we could eat it but I don't think that's uh the best idea."

"You sew?" You ask softly. Eddie grins at you," Mama taught me." Eddie readjusts the bag against you where it fell away. "Eds..." Eddie hums looking up at you," Yeah?"

"Thank you." "Anytime Baby. I'd do anything I can for you." You smirk at him," Anything?" Eddie rolls his eyes as he grins back," Weeelll-" you both chuckle. You roll back onto your side and close your eyes.

And as you lay there you think of how much Eddie loves you. How often he shows you his love. How he opens doors for you and closes them. How Eddie doesn't treat you as glass like some of your friends do, but how he still cares and makes you comfortable. How Eddie doesn't try to limit you and let's you set the pace for yourself. How Eddie took down his curtains to make you a heating pad because yours went out.

You reach back and slowly link your hand with his. Eddie hums slightly, linking your fingers, before shifting and wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer.

You can feel the warmth from the rice. The warmth of Eddie's body. The warmth from his breath as he falls asleep. And the warmth from your heart as it yells out how in love you are.

[gncrezan]

IFs (especially IFs on tumblr!) are very fun because there's a lot of creator-fan interaction possible because of tumblr's ask function. you get to ask questions about your favorites, suggest ideas and sometimes those ideas are even taken on board. fans get much more content because the writers and creators are so accessible. and i feel like asking questions and leaving comments in this way has become so common and standard with IFs that people are forgetting that's a real person writing these stories. just because you can send the ask doesn't mean you should. DON'T BE RUDE ON ANONYMOUS!!!!! DON'T BE WEIRD ON ANONYMOUS!!!!! my jaw drops reading some of these asks so i can't imagine how it's like for the authors

[spacedlexi]

speaking of fucked up overly hated female twdg characters i find it Super Interesting how people will say carver was the best villain in the whole series, but when lilly is literally just a successful carver (iron fist leader of a community turning children into soldiers) suddenly shes a bad/lame villain for some reason 🤔

[zstraps]

.

[tubelight-404]

FIRST TIME GIVES INEFFABLE HUSBANDS VIBES AND I DONT THINK I CAN HANDLE IT 😭😭😭

[tennessoui]

girl your hanahaki au is absolutely wrecking my shit i--- I don't ever read ongoing fics and this is why. I just cannot wait?!? But the waiting somehow makes it better too?!? I'm literally dead bro I can't I love it so much

hahah omg thank you !! I’m really happy to hear you took a chance on this wip and that you like it so much!

not to get on my soapbox or anything but you have given me a great corner to shout from

as a disclaimer I totally understand why people will choose not to read wips and I truly think you know your mental health and what you can stand to wonder about/think about/obsess over/NEED to know a conclusion for better than anyone else

BUT as a writer who almost exclusively posts in wips, people reading them before they’re finished is my life blood and I am so grateful and it makes the writing process so much more fun for me because I know at least someone else is invested in my brainworm of a story?? someone else is enjoying it and thinking about it and I’m putting a small amount of good into the world??

the best analogy I’ve been able to come up with is like:

when you read a finished fic you’re eating a whole meal and that’s great that’s so amazing (especially if you tell the cook you liked it after you’re done). and you’re literally always welcome to eat that meal whenever you want. finished fics are like standing dinner invitations: I am always happy to have you and I mean that very genuinely

but if you read a wip, you’re keeping me company in the kitchen while I cook. and that’s sort of priceless. in some instances, you can even tell me the food needs more spice and I’ll think about it and listen!!! you’re sitting on my kitchen counter as I bustle around my space and we’re talking about what I’m doing and also how I’m feeling and maybe how you’re feeling and it just feels like community more than anything else I’ve experienced in any fandom. like you’re with me in my space as I’m creating food I hope you like. we’re both invested and it’s amazing

and I think in general that’s why wips are a lot of fun and also maybe why the waiting between chapters is fun for you - you’ve suggested that I add paprika to the pot and you’re waiting and wondering if I will, and I’m laughing and hoping you like the soup either way but also wondering if paprika will work with the recipe, and if I can add a bit to it just for you while staying true to the dish I envisioned at the get go.