#reblogs are so welcomed!!!!

[zombiepuke]

wlw cecilia pederson hc's

I haven't seen ANY Cecilia content and you know what. that is just homophobic. idc I love her so much and I can't stop thinking about her so here have some thoughts. leave it to me to love the character everyone despises

wlw gay stuff ahead // I try to keep her in-character but yknow I'm not perfect so - pls feel free to reblog/comment it truly means the world to me xoxo love you all!

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—Being with Cecilia is. Something. To say the least. She’s difficult to keep up with, even harder to be with. She’s mean, cold-hearted, and doesn’t really open up to you, ever. She doesn’t necessarily go out of her way to physically harm anyone, but she also doesn’t have much of an issue of morality when she needs to use violence. Whenever you find out about her scams, you’re undeniably angry, but she has you wrapped around her little finger so tightly, you don’t dare to even think of turning her in, or even worse - leaving her. So you take all of her bullshit in stride and try your hardest to stay on her good side. 

—She’s manipulative as fuck. Obviously. But she has an extreme soft spot for you and you only. Any other person in on her scams are expendable, and she chooses to not give a fuck about them, but time and time again, she chooses to care about you. You’re not entirely sure how that makes you feel about yourself, but she’s so good to you, and she fucks you so sweetly, you find yourself also not giving a fuck about your situation, either - so long as she keeps fucking you and treating you the way she does.

—You lowkey hate yourself for how easily she has a hold on your life. She can tell you to do anything and you’re scrambling to get it done like a dumb little puppy, just for her. Your entire identity, your entire sense of self was gone in her presence. You would burn the world to make her happy, to keep her attention on you (you secretly wished she would feel the same about you, but you know you’re just as expendable as the rest).

—(You’re actually not expendable, to her. You’re the one most important thing to Cecilia in her life, but she would absolutely never, in a million years, make that fact known. She, too, would destroy the world for you.)

—She expects a lot from you. She sees you as her equal, her only real friend - and she expects you to act like it. You’re intelligent, level-headed - just like her, and she knows it (regardless of your intelligence, Cecilia is your main weakness - she makes you stupid for her). She absolutely will make you feel like garbage sometimes, if you fuck up or do something not up to her (high) standards, she’s livid. She’s not above slapping, hair grabbing, cussing at you - and you take it all, you’re in too deep with her to argue, and because you know you wouldn’t win against her, anyways. Plus, you figure you have it pretty decent, being on Cecilia’s good side - she definitely love bombs you and is overly sweet on you as a manipulative tactic (and, she genuinely likes you. Not that you know that.)

—She is possessive as HELL. She will make it well known you are hers and hers only. 

—Cecilia spoils the fuck out of you. If she likes you, you would pretty much be set for life. I hate to say sugar mama buttttt, if there was anything you wanted or liked, you would get it (and you never question how she gets her hands on some things). She has money, and she likes to spend it, especially on you. She spoils you with extravagant gifts, jewelry, clothes, perfume (HC Cecilia has tons of high-end perfumes cause why not), and even dates - she loves to dote on you and show you off, show the world what she has (you’re her most valuable asset). Cecilia is surprisingly romantic, very elegant and pretentious, very hedonistic - her pleasure is of utmost importance, and your pleasure is her pleasure as well, so you enjoying yourself is something she takes very seriously. Yes, she’s a very cold person and she is not above bloody violence, but she is also very womanly, therefore, treats you very much so like a lady - so different than how she treats her victims or how she acts when she’s angry. She takes you to the fanciest restaurants, always buys the most expensive bottles of wine for you to share (HC she’s definitely a Cabernet girly!). She won’t stand for you to go wanting for anything.

—And she absolutely spoils you with orgasms, too. Cecilia likes to make you come. A lot. Too much, sometimes - your time in bed with her always ends with you hardly able to walk because your legs are like gelatin. Knowing she can make you scream, can make you come that hard that many times, it’s her favorite fucking thing in the world and she can never get enough. She’s really fucking talented at learning your body and what you like, what makes you tick - she maps you out, calculated, like she is with everything in her life. She knows exactly how to touch you to get you shaking, exactly how you like your cunt to be eaten, exactly how to slide her fingers just right to get you squirming - and she’ll keep doing it, over and over, until you can’t keep up with how many orgasms you’ve had. 

—You absolutely have to ask (beg) Cecilia’s permission to come.

—The PRAISINGGGGGG AND DEGRADINGGGGGG with this woman is INSANE. She talks a LOT while she’s fucking you and man, she says some dirty shit. She definitely talks you through it constantly, sweet nothings in your ears while she’s sitting behind you, her chest pressed to your back and one of her hands in-between your legs, the other clasped across your chest, her lips planting kisses on your up-turned neck. She’s really good at balancing being incredibly mean to you and incredibly sweet, touching you gently but whispering some of the iciest words to you. Like sometimes she leaves you in tears she’s so mean to you. Look at you, filthy slut, gonna come on my fingers? Let’s see how many times that worthless cunt can come for me tonight, hm? You would be nothing without me, sweetheart, you need me to take care of you, just like that whorish cunt needs me to take care of her, too. Dumb bitch, making a mess all over me like the dirty harlot you are. Look at you, about to come already - I don’t think so, baby girl. You think you deserve to come? You think you deserve me? Think you deserve me fucking you? No one else will ever fuck you, except for me. No one else could ever fuck you like I do, baby. Say something smart to me again, whore, and I’ll never touch your pretty little pussy ever again. That’s all you want, right? Is for me to keep playing with that spoiled little cunt? Aw, the little slut is crying. What a rotten, stupid baby you are, pretty girl.

—In addition to how cruelly she speaks to you, sometimes she just straight up refuses to let you come for long periods of time. I’m talking hours, days, even, of no relief for you at all. She loves to see you defenseless, powerless, begging her to give you something. It’s either you don’t come at all, or she’s making you come so many times you can hardly see. Yknow a good mix.

—But her praises would be just as intense, when she was in the mood to treat you a little nicer. Being with her is a whirlwind, she 180’s like crazy. The pet names are endless, constantly calling you baby, baby girl, love, sweetheart, good girl, princess, etc. Sometimes it’s strange hearing such sweet names pour from her lips as she’s also saying the most cruel, vile things to you, but all you know is that you cling to everything she says, drink up every word she utters to you. Oh, my sweet girl. Look how precious you are, so desperate. Tell me how it feels, hm, darling? Is that good? You’re so pretty, grinding on my leg like that, honey. Just relax, baby girl, and let me take care of you, I know you need that, need someone to take care of you, I know you need me. Oh, tsk tsk tsk, I know it feels good, baby, let it all out, sweet thing, let me hear you. You sound so lovely moaning my name like that. You’re such a good girl for me, angel, you’re so good. God, you’re so beautiful, so perfect, so flawless, your cunt is so pretty, she’s all mine. You’re all mine, princess. Can you come for me again, baby girl? Come on, I know you can do it, come for me, come for me, elskling, just like that. Oh, I’m so proud of you, godjenta. 

—She speaks half english, half Norwegian when she’s fucking you - usually when she’s praising you - a lot of the pet names she uses are in her native tongue. Hearing her speak to you in Norwegian sends you into another dimension. 

—Cecilia typically prefers to keep her clothes on while you’re intimate. It’s just how she is, very hidden and secretive, not that she minds you knowing anything about her. It’s just what she’s comfortable with most of the time. You like it, though, there’s a sense of power she has while you’re completely naked and she’s fully clothed. You also love the way the expensive fabrics she wears feel against your skin when she’s on top of you, or holding you to her, or draped across your back.

—Thigh riding. With her clothes on. Her watching you smugly, trying so hard to get yourself off right there on her leg. Dirty worthless slut, trying so hard to come. Look at you. It’s a privilege to even use my leg. Just think about that.

—Speaking of that, it takes an incredibly long time for Cecilia to allow you to see her naked, or to even touch her. She is a control freak through and through, and she doesn’t like relinquishing that - but eventually, she trusts you enough, and lets you touch her, see her body beneath her clothes. She’s beautiful everywhere, not just in the face, and you’re really excited to be able to touch her, too, bring her as much pleasure as she brings you. It’s different, complicated for Cecilia to let you in in that way, but once she gives herself over to you for a change, she learns to adore it. You worship her the first time she lets you touch her, pressing your mouth to every piece of her body, amazed, in awe of just how gorgeous she was, how reactive she was to your touch. The first time you ever make her come, you feel like it was akin to seeing some sort of ancient god - seeing her, usually so ice cold and stoic and uncaring, arching her back and pulling at your hair and her pretty face flushed and scrunched up in ecstasy, her blonde hair spread across the pillow like an undeserving halo, the noises of desperation and your name coming from her lips in a whimper, the taste of her cunt behind your own lips. The sight could have made you come right then and there with her. She grabbed your chin and kissed you, hard, panting into your mouth, body visibly shaking. God, darling, you’re so fucking good at that—

And then, you’re just as addicted to pleasing her as she is to you.

—She babbles to you in both languages as she comes. Absolutely.

—Her favorite thing to do to you is go down on you. Something about it is just it for her. She likes having direct power over you, and over time she’s realized that her mouth can break you down like nothing else, having you making noises you’d never thought you’d make, sending you to places in the stars. Cecilia is one thing and that is determined, and that determination is very clear when she’s eating you out - she won’t stop for anything. She doesn’t care if you have already come three times - she’s staying right between your legs until she’s had her fill of you, not that you’re complaining. She’s honestly pretty sweet with it (as she is with lots of things involving you - the contrast between her career choices and how she treats other people and how she treats you, it gives you whiplash sometimes); she’s slow and steady, pressing tantalizing kisses all down your frontside, in the creases of where your pelvis meets your legs, up your center - landing right on top of your clit, tongue slowly dipping down into your cunt, the pace making you shove your face in your hands and wail your desperation into your palms. She murmurs soft praises and maybe some harsher degradation in between your thighs, in tune with the even softer movements of her mouth against you, looking up at you through blonde lashes all the while, gauging your reactions to everything she does. She compliments and praises everything about you. Oh, my pretty girl, such a precious little pussy, hm? I know you need it, sweetheart, be patient. I’ll give you everything you need. Her hands would be busy, too, coming up to rest on your upper thighs, your hips, your lower stomach, nails scraping gentle patterns to your skin. She’s a tease with everything - she wants you desperate and dripping for her and she likes to hold your neediness for her over your head. But once she stops barely touching your skin and running her tongue across your lips, she’s latching onto your cunt like it’s air, not letting up til you’re crying and trying to thrash away from the intensity. And all positions are game for her - she especially likes to eat your pussy from the back while you’re on all fours, elbows to the ground and ass hiked up as far as you can arch, one of her hands wrapped around your thigh and the other pressing a thumb to your clit while her tongue is pressed into your cunt. Or she likes you to sit on her face cause she can grab onto your thighs and hold you down to her. She also likes to eat you out while you’re standing, pressed against the floor-to-ceiling glass panels in her home, her mouth nestled between your legs and her arms wrapped around your thigh as your knees shook from her circling your clit with her tongue.

—Her handssssss her hands are so pretty. Cecilia is super talented with her fingers and really enjoys holding you to her chest while she plays with your pussy, dipping her fingers down into your wetness to rub your clit with, yknow yknow the good shit. Or she knows exactly how to hit every damn spot inside of you to have you howling her name into the blankets.

—Scissoring? Hell yes. She’s all for it, and she doesn’t care if she’s on top or bottom. Sometimes she likes when you take control, swiveling your hips against hers, your arms wrapped around one of her legs to fit your bodies together, being able to see her lovely face react, eyes closing, brows furrowing, as you tilt down to get the friction just right. It felt like you were fucking her instead of the other way around (even though her iron grip on your hips told you she was absolutely still in control). Or, when she’s on top, and her hips thrust so perfectly in tune with your own, your sex gliding so wonderfully against hers, her arms reaching down to rest her hands on your chest for leverage - taking one and slipping it to lay against your lower stomach to press her thumb to your clit, just to give you that extra bolt to send you over the edge. Her hair flows and swirls over her shoulders, her head thrown back with her eyes closed, focusing on the feeling, the way her muscles and bones move with her, the heat of her body radiating onto you, it’s addicting. She’d lean forward and press her forehead to yours, eyes meeting your own, forcing you to look at her while she thrusts and fucks you into oblivion. It’s an almost sweet gesture, one of her hands coming up to hold your cheek and urge you to come for her.

—She’ll make you watch her fuck you in the mirror. Seeing her hand come up to wrap around your throat from behind while she’s railing you, her breath on your neck as she’s whispering dirty things into your ear, her eyes on yours in the reflection - you like seeing her face as she’s unraveling you.

—Definitely uses toys on you - she would absolutely hold a vibe to your clit til you literally feel like blacking out, or hold a wand to you while fucking you with a strap, or suck on your clit while fucking you with a toy, too. 

—She’s rough a lot of the time, slapping you and throwing you around, pulling at your hair and forcing you down. But other times, she touches you like you’d break, slow and gentle and calm. You couldn’t ever say that she loved you but, maybe in her own sick, fucked up way, she did. Above all she enjoys being around you, she enjoys making you feel good and spoiling you, and she’s down for most anything.

—She does care for you - again, in her own fucked up way - and she doesn’t leave you hanging, especially after sex that was particularly rough or degrading. She will absolutely hold you close to her and let you come down from the intensity. She’s not completely heartless. She’ll rub your back, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, get you water, have intimate, deep conversations for hours - all the sweet gooey shit. She really likes to run you baths and even join you in them (let’s be real we know this bitch has a huge bathtub). Long story short she’s not gonna say or do some fucked up sadistic shit to you and not make sure you’re okay afterwards - she’s not completely evil, she just puts herself first in most situations, but when you come around, she kinda melts for you and only you. One time, she was on top of you, fully clothed, kissing at your shoulders and grinding her hips down into yours, and she buried her face into the crook of your neck, whispering oh, god, what are you doing to me, sweetheart? referring to how soft she was around you sometimes, how warmly you made her feel, how you saw right through her cruel bullshit and melted her into a puddle. She eventually opens up to you about a lot of things in her life, her childhood, her past, how she became the woman she was. It makes your heart jump. Sometimes, she is so loving to you, and so mean to everyone else, it makes you feel like the luckiest person on the planet, to have such an intense, cold, self-centered woman like Cecilia take a fondness to you. 

[alexbutrandomthoughts]

"Can't two guys be just friends?" If they stop looking at each other like that then sure

[thedreadblog]

Let’s keep this up!

So, in case you weren’t aware:

Name: Trick Weekes

Pronouns: they/them

Additions:

Jin Maley, voice actor for Taash, is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns. Erika Ishii, one of the four voices for Rook, is genderfluid and uses they/she/he/any pronouns. Gareth David-Lloyd, voice actor for Solas, uses he/him/they/them pronouns. Jessica Clark, voice actor for Neve Gallus, uses she/her/they pronouns. Jeff Berg, one of the four voices for Rook, uses he/him pronouns. Corinne Busche, game director of Dragon Age: The Veilguard uses she/her pronouns.

I've added the ones I could verify on IMDB or their social media profiles. If anything changes I'll do my best to add them!

[elleniemae]

Finally gave in. Watched the gay pirate show.

I freaking love it to DEATH holy SMOKES why didn’t you people tell me to watch this??? I binged it in like 2 DAYS???

Anyway, I wanted to draw the gays, but unfortunately I cannot draw middle-aged men for the life of me. I’ll figure it out one day.

HOWEVER I can draw children! So, I drew the children meeting, because they both need a hug. Really bad.

Enjoy!

[cabysoft]

[milktea-grn]

mom im tired

[physicallyimprobable]

what's the 3-dimensional number thing?

Well I'm glad you asked! For those confused, this is referring to my claim that "my favorite multiplication equation is 3 × 5 = 15 because it's the reason you can't make a three-dimensional number system" from back in this post. Now, this is gonna be a bit of a journey, so buckle up.

Part One: Numbers in Space

First of all, what do I mean by a three-dimensional number system? We say that the complex numbers are two-dimensional, and that the quaternions are four-dimensional, but what do we mean by these things? There's a few potential answers to this question, but for our purposes we'll take the following narrative:

Complex numbers can be written in the form (a+bi), where a and b are real numbers. For the variable-averse, this just means we have things like (3+6i) and (5-2i) and (-8+3i). Some amount of "units" (that is, ones), and some amount of i's.

Most people are happy to stop here and say "well, there's two numbers that you're using, so that's two dimensions, ho hum". I think that's underselling it, though, since there's something nontrivial and super cool happening here. See, each complex number has an "absolute value", which is its distance from zero. If you imagine "3+6i" to mean "three meters East and six meters North", then the distance to that point will be 6.708 meters. We say the absolute value of (3+6i), which is written like |3+6i|, is equal to 6.708. Similarly, interpreting "5-2i" to mean "five meters East and two meters South" we get that |5-2i| = 5.385.

The neat thing about this is that absolute values multiply really nicely. For example, the two numbers above multiply to give (3+6i) × (5-2i) = (27+24i) which has a length of 36.124. What's impressive is that this length is the product of our original lengths: 36.124 = 6.708 × 5.385. (Okay technically this is not true due to rounding but for the full values it is true.)

This is what we're going to say is necessary to for a number system to accurately represent a space. You need the numbers to have lengths corresponding to actual lengths in space, and you need those lengths to be "multiplicative", which just means it does the thing we just saw. (That is, when you multiply two numbers, their lengths are multiplied as well.)

There's still of course the question of what "actual lengths in space" means, but we can just use the usual Euclidean method of measurement. So, |3+6i| = √(3²+6²) and |5-2i| = √(5²+2²). This extends directly to the quaternions, which are written as (a+bi+cj+dk) for real numbers a, b, c, d. (Don't worry about what j and k mean if you don't know; it turns out not to really matter here.) The length of the quaternion 4+3i-7j+4k can be calculated like |4+3i-7j+4k| = √(4²+3²+7²+4²) = 9.486 and similarly for other points in "four-dimensional space". These are the kinds of number systems we're looking for.

[To be explicit, for those who know the words: What we are looking for is a vector algebra over the real numbers with a prescribed basis under which the Euclidean norm is multiplicative and the integer lattice forms a subring.]

Part Two: Sums of Squares

Now for something completely different. Have you ever thought about which numbers are the sum of two perfect squares? Thirteen works, for example, since 13 = 3² + 2². So does thirty-two, since 32 = 4² + 4². The squares themselves also work, since zero exists: 49 = 7² + 0². But there are some numbers, like three and six, which can't be written as a sum of two squares no matter how hard you try. (It's pretty easy to check this yourself; there aren't too many possibilities.)

Are there any patterns to which numbers are a sum of two squares and which are not? Yeah, loads. We're going to look at a particularly interesting one: Let's say a number is "S2" if it's a sum of two squares. (This thing where you just kinda invent new terminology for your situation is common in math. "S2" should be thought of as an adjective, like "orange" or "alphabetical".) Then here's the neat thing: If two numbers are S2 then their product is S2 as well.

Let's see a few small examples. We have 2 = 1² + 1², so we say that 2 is S2. Similarly 4 = 2² + 0² is S2. Then 2 × 4, that is to say, 8, should be S2 as well. Indeed, 8 = 2² + 2².

Another, slightly less trivial example. We've seen that 13 and 32 are both S2. Then their product, 416, should also be S2. Lo and behold, 416 = 20² + 4², so indeed it is S2.

How do we know this will always work? The simplest way, as long as you've already internalized the bit from Part 1 about absolute values, is to think about the norms of complex numbers. A norm is, quite simply, the square of the corresponding distance. (Okay yes it can also mean different things in other contexts, but for our purposes that's what a norm is.) The norm is written with double bars, so ‖3+6i‖ = 45 and ‖5-2i‖ = 29 and ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90.

One thing to notice is that if your starting numbers are whole numbers then the norm will also be a whole number. In fact, because of how we've defined lengths, the norm is just the sum of the squares of the real-number bits. So, any S2 number can be turned into a norm of a complex number: 13 can be written as ‖3+2i‖, 32 can be written as ‖4+4i‖, and 49 can be written as ‖7+0i‖.

The other thing to notice is that, since the absolute value is multiplicative, the norm is also multiplicative. That is to say, for example, ‖(3+6i) × (5-2i)‖ = ‖3+6i‖ × ‖5-2i‖. It's pretty simple to prove that this will work with any numbers you choose.

But lo, gaze upon what happens when we combine these two facts together! Consider the two S2 values 13 and 32 from before. Because of the first fact, we can write the product 13 × 32 in terms of norms: 13 × 32 = ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖. So far so good. Then, using the second fact, we can pull the product into the norms: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖(3+2i) × (4+4i)‖. Huzzah! Now, if we write out the multiplication as (3+2i) × (4+4i) = (4+20i), we can get a more natural looking norm equation: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖4+20i‖ and finally, all we need to do is evaluate the norms to get our product! (3² + 2²) × (4² + 4²) = (4² + 20²)

The cool thing is that this works no matter what your starting numbers are. 218 = 13² + 7² and 292 = 16² + 6², so we can follow the chain to get 218 × 292 = ‖13+7i‖ × ‖16+6i‖ = ‖(13+7i) × (16+6i)‖ = ‖166+190i‖ = 166² + 190² and indeed you can check that both extremes are equal to 63,656. No matter which two S2 numbers you start with, if you know the squares that make them up, you can use this process to find squares that add to their product. That is to say, the product of two S2 numbers is S2.

Part Four: Why do we skip three?

Now we have all the ingredients we need for our cute little proof soup! First, let's hop to the quaternions and their norm. As you should hopefully remember, quaternions have four terms (some number of units, some number of i's, some number of j's, and some number of k's), so a quaternion norm will be a sum of four squares. For example, ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90 means 90 = 4² + 3² + 7² + 4².

Since we referred to sums of two squares as S2, let's say the sums of four squares are S4. 90 is S4 because it can be written as we did above. Similarly, 7 is S4 because 7 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 1², and 22 is S4 because 22 = 4² + 2² + 1² + 1². We are of course still allowed to use zeros; 6 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 0² is S4, as is our friend 13 = 3² + 2² + 0² + 0².

The same fact from the S2 numbers still applies here: since 7 is S4 and 6 is S4, we know that 42 (the product of 7 and 6) is S4. Indeed, after a bit of fiddling I've found that 42 = 6² + 4² + 1² + 1². I don't need to do that fiddling, however, if I happen to be able to calculate quaternions! All I need to do is follow the chain, just like before: 7 × 6 = ‖2+i+j+k‖ × ‖2+i+j‖ = ‖(2+i+j+k) × (2+i+j)‖ = ‖2+3i+5j+2k‖ = 2² + 3² + 5² + 2². This is a different solution than the one I found earlier, but that's fine! As long as there's even one solution, 42 will be S4. Using the same logic, it should be clear that the product of any two S4 numbers is an S4 number.

Now, what goes wrong with three dimensions? Well, as you might have guessed, it has to do with S3 numbers, that is, numbers which can be written as a sum of three squares. If we had any three-dimensional number system, we'd be able to use the strategy we're now familiar with to prove that any product of S3 numbers is an S3 number. This would be fine, except, well…

3 × 5 = 15.

Why is this bad? See, 3 = 1² + 1² + 1² and 5 = 2² + 1² + 0², so both 3 and 5 are S3. However, you can check without too much trouble that 15 is not S3; no matter how hard you try, you can't write 15 as a sum of three squares.

And, well, that's it. The bucket has been kicked, the nails are in the coffin. You cannot make a three-dimensional number system with the kind of nice norm that the complex numbers and quaternions have. Even if someone comes to you excitedly, claiming to have figured it out, you can just toss them through these steps: • First, ask what the basis is. Complex numbers use 1 and i; quaternions use 1, i, j, and k. Let's say they answer with p, q, and r. • Second, ask them to multiply (p+q+r) by (2p+q). • Finally, well. If their system works, the resulting number should give you three numbers whose squares add to 15. Since that can't happen, you've shown that the norm is not actually multiplicative; their system doesn't capture the geometry of three dimensions.

[jazzzzzzhands]

When Clown talked about reading books to home, i knew i had to draw Wally reading my favorite childhood book to Home!!

Also Wally painted a little heart on Home like face painting! oh and take my line art because i love lineart!

[kkoct-ik]

i almost got hit by several cars today trying to make this gif on my phone

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Height Poll: Who is (technically) the tallest character. Please remember that these polls are for fun!

[ratinthevoid]

Polscy mutualsi i reszta Polbrl, jest akcja wspierająca na pomoc powodzianom z gminy Głuchołazy.

Pisarz Jakub Ćwiek (pochodzący z Głuchołaz) wypuścił nowe wydanie swojej książki "Topiel" w ramach akcji "płać ile chcesz". PEŁNY DOCHÓD Z AKCJI IDZIE NA POMOC POWODZIAN.

Dostępne są: wydanie papierowe, audiobook i ebook. Wpłacić można dowolną sumę (w przypadku ebooka i audiobooka kwota minimalna to 1,20 zł, w przypadku papieru – 10 zł).

Akcja trwa do 30.09.2024!

Z ważnych informacji:

Akcja to PRZEDSPRZEDAŻ. Audio i ebooki zostaną udostępnione w ciągu kilku dni, natomiast wersja papierowa ruszy do druku dopiero po zakończeniu akcji. "Chcemy drukować bez nadwyżek, bo to ma być nie tylko książka, ale i pamiątka Waszej wspaniałomyślności. Zaraz po zamknięciu akcji dostaniecie wiadomość o terminie, gdy książka do Was dotrze."

Akcja istnieje we współpracy z władzami Głuchołaz. Środki z akcji zostaną przekazane do rozdysponowania burmistrzowi gminy.

Więcej o książce:

"W sierpniu 1997 r, ukraińscy żołnierze, przybyli na pomoc powodzianom z Głuchołaz, dokonują makabrycznego znaleziska w korycie wciąż wezbranej rzeki. Na ułamanym, zanurzonym w wodzie drzewie wiszą zwłoki nastolatka.

Niespełna miesiąc wcześniej dla czwórki młodych chłopaków – Kacpra, Darka, Józka i Grześka – rozpoczynają się upragnione wakacje. Mimo strug deszczu, wzbierającej rzeki i zagrożenia powodziowego, wszyscy czterej są przekonani, że to będzie ich lato. Trzy dni później rozpoczyna się “Powódź stulecia”. Wydarzenie, które na zawsze odmieni życie… tych, którzy przeżyją."

“Topiel” to oparty na osobistych doświadczeniach autora, szczegółowy, emocjonujący zapis pierwszych dni wielkiej powodzi w 1997 r.

[literaila]

all I want for Christmas is knowing how the atf! Family as a whole spend Xmas together (or New Years, idc) and also how Gojo x reader celebrate it alone 👀

“no, satoru,” you say, for what is probably the thousandth time ever.

you should really start capitalizing on these moments. keep a tally and make him pay you for each mark he gets. each time you have to teach him how to listen.

you’d be richer than him by now, probably.

“but please.”

satoru is on the ground by your feet, literally. his giant head rests against your socks, hands clawing at your very elegantly themed nutcracker pajamas like he’s about to rip them. which, he definitely is.

it’s early enough that you don’t even scold him for it, but blink idly, wondering why you’re still up this early when the children are completely grown—to everyone’s utter dismay—and have never believed in the magic of christmas.

well, megumi, at least. tsumiki, the only person in the room who can’t see curses or use any sort of actual supernatural ability, believes wholeheartedly in all types of magic. it must be easy, considering that she’s a sort of magic all on her own.

megumi, who has been preparing for this moment, steps right over satoru and shrugs down next to you on the couch. he’s also wearing christmas pajamas, but only because you and tsumiki manipulated him into it for fifteen minutes the night prior.

tsumiki is sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, smiling because she’s the only morning person in the house.

also because she’s probably the only one who got any sleep.

“get off,” you tell him, pulling at his hair. “you need to wait your turn.”

“noo,” he whines some more, shaking his head and probably getting snot all over your ankles. his morning voice is nonexistent because you know that he didn’t even attempt to go to bed. which is also why he’s throwing a temper tantrum.

“it’s youngest to oldest. you’re dead last, loser.”

satoru looks up at you, pouting.

you ignore him entirely, turning to megumi. “go ahead, kid.”

megumi sighs, picking at the box you set next to his spot. but before he opens it, he gives satoru a look. “i think she just called you old.”

tsumiki giggles, sipping on her hot chocolate.

satoru, who is now leaning against your legs, entirely too tall for anything, looks back at you, head in your lap, with mystified puppy-eyes. he’s completely outraged. “did you call me old?”

you raise a brow. “i said oldest,” you respond, but your tone claims otherwise, because satoru is getting pretty old.

“i am very youthful—“

“immature,” megumi says, under his breath.

“—and the only one with any decency around here.”

“you’re wearing a shirt that says ‘santa’s favorite ho,’” you deadpan, pulling at his hair some more.

tsumiki giggles again.

satoru shakes your hand away. “it was a gift!”

megumi snorts, finally pulling at the wrapping paper around his present.

you blink. “from yourself.”

“not like any of you were going to appreciate me,” satoru mumbles, crossing his arms. you kiss the top of his head in response, and he grabs ahold of your calf like it’s a hand.

“i got you the pants,” tsumiki says, smiling at him.

“and i’ll wear them until the day that i die,” satoru nods, giving you another pointed look. you just snort.

“what’d you get, megs?”

“it’s a mug that says ‘worlds greatest teacher,’” he hands it to you, brows furrowed, his voice is nonchalant.

“what? i didn’t get you—“

“megumi’s not a teacher,” satoru interrupts, easily enough. he plucks the mug right from your hands. “well, i guess ill take it off your hands since you have no use for it—“

“satoru.”

“what? santa must’ve made a mistake—“

tsumiki laughs into her mug, getting hot chocolate on her face, and pajamas, and another year has passed.

who ever said christmas was about gifts anyway?

the rest of the morning passes, new socks shoved into dressers, books left around the house. tsumiki gets yarn to knit with, and megumi gets gel for his hair—and some new underwear, courtesy of satoru.

christmas doesn’t have a lot of tradition for any of you. maybe it’s because you and gojo grew up without any meaningful holidays, or maybe it’s because tsumiki and megumi barely knew what christmas was before you and satoru were assimilated into their household.

but you spend december putting up lights, buying gag gifts and trying to teach satoru how to wrap a present for the sixth year in a row. none of it is ever the same, and none of it goes very well. lights are broken, trees fall, and no matter how many matching sets of pajamas you buy, one always seems to go missing by christmas eve.

still, everyone laughs together at all of the nonsense and maybe that’s the only tradition that matters.

*

it’s not until later that night that you and satoru are finally alone.

you’re laying in bed, book in hand, trying to purposefully ignore his side eyeing.

but, even after a decade of practice, satoru isn’t easily forgotten. his eyes are too bright, his presence too ingrained in your mind. it’s a curse really, and you shouldn’t welcome it.

but it’s about eleven years too late for that now.

so after ten minutes you sigh, shutting the book. “what?”

“what what?”

“satoru. stop staring at me like a crazy person and talk.”

“what would i have to talk about?” he asks, dazzling smile on his face. he leans over to you, entirely too close. and it’s not a moment later that he pulls a small box from his back, holding it out to you.

how it got there, you’re entirely unsure.

you frown at it for a moment, then groan. “we said no gifts.”

he frowns. “so i’m just supposed to get my wife nothing?”

“yes,” you grab it from his hands, roughly. “because that’s what we agreed on.”

“i don’t think you know me,” he says, almost mystified but entirely teasing

you eye him, lip twitching. then you push the present back into his hands, leaning over to your bedside table.

when you turn back it’s with your own meticulously wrapped present in hand. “i know you,” you whisper to him, handing it over.

“hey,” he says, not at all angry. “we agreed.”

“you’ve never agreed on anything.”

and satoru, as impatient as ever, doesn’t even bother to respond, or even argue back. he just pulls at the bow, ripping the box in two.

and hes already smudged the lens of the new glasses you got him. you begin laughing before he can even look.

“what is this?” he asks, tilting his head at it.

you giggle some more, looking as excited as a child, grabbing the glasses to hold them out towards him. “new glasses,” you say, simply, but your voice is high pitched and on edge. “look.”

satoru grabs them from you again, and looks at the side of the frame. “are these eyes?”

you cover your mouth with a hand and nod. the sides are ingrained with a terrible imitation of satoru’s own eyes, no amount of paint enough to capture the alien-ness of them. still, they’re blue and bright and entirely too hilarious.

he blinks at you, his lips pursed. “are there six of them?”

you hold back a snort and point. “only four. you’ve got two perfectly good ones on your head already.”

and then you burst into laughter, leaning over so you can giggle into the blankets.

satoru is scowling but his face is soft, and maybe he’s smiling at you in disbelief, or admiration. “these are awful,” he says, but puts them on anyway.

“i know!” you say, grinning at him, completely giddy.

he shakes his head, but his face is amused, and nudges his present towards you. “open.”

you’re still quietly laughing to yourself as you open the box, but your smile fades once you see what’s inside.

you pull out a music box, a deep blue with gold embellishments. it’s porcelain and if you drop it, it’d break. you breathe out, then whisper “isn’t this the one we saw at that—“

“at the art festival we went to in october. you said it looked like the one you had at home.”

you look up at him. satoru is still smiling, but when has he ever stopped? “when did you get it? i carried all the bags that day.”

“there was another festival in kanto a month later,” he tells you, pulling it from your hands so he can open it up. “i stopped after a mission to look.”

but before you can thank him, can say it’s beautiful, or wonder how long he thought about it, a tiny dancer pops out, and she’s holding a slip of paper.

“what’s…”

satoru, who can’t wait for anything, grabs it, unfolding it so you can read. but he tells you anyway. “plane tickets. for a trip sometime. us and the kids. i already talked to yaga about time off.”

“satoru—“

“and the higher ups, but that one took longer. they’ll be fine for a week or two.”

you look at him again, lips downturned. “my gift was so dumb.”

he laughs, leaning in so he can press his forehead to yours. “this is for all of us, so we’ll call it even,” he grins, though. “or you could give me a different gift. i have a couple of things in mind—“

you shake your head and crawl to him, pushing him back so you can trap him with your head on his chest. “you’re so dumb.”

he pulls you close and runs his stupid soft hands up from your shoulders to your neck. “i know.”

“i love you.”

“i know,” he answers, still smiling.

[bubblegumflavor]

You look like a movie

You sound like a song

My God this reminds me, of when we were young..

Let me photograph you in this light

In case it is the last time

That we might be exactly like we were

Before we realized

We were scared of getting old

It made us restless

It was just like a movie

It was just like a song..

(Adele ~ 'When we were young')

[derpiedoxie]

Tw: eye contact

I paint what I see

[cabysoft]

[milktea-grn]

blurryface era sketch