#thanks for the ask!! ❤️

[fazedlight]

Hey Mel—

Here for the Supergirl posts and your writing, but I always enjoy reading your thoughts on Xena, even if though it’s a show I never really watched. (aside, don’t know if you’ve seen My Life is Murder, LL’s Aus-NZ murder mystery series? Case of the week, nothing groundbreaking story wise but everyone’s a delight and it’s charming)

Anyways, came across a couple of unproduced X:WP scripts today and thought I’d send the link to you in case you haven’t seen them. This site is a goldmine of TV scripts and had some SG as well :)

https://sites.google.com/site/tvwriting/us-drama/us-drama-collections/xena-warrior-princess

👀 👀 👀 whoa, thank you for that very cool find - I will have to take a look!!

I've heard good things about My Life is Murder (as a fun serial show), it's definitely on my list! I heard Renee O'Connor (Gabrielle from Xena) was in an episode at some point too.

Maybe when I'm done with my current rewatch, I'll watch that next!

[ataleofcrowns]

Hi, firstly, I would like to say that I stumbled on this story only a week ago and I am fully hooked. I know Ch 10 just released but goddamn I need more. It's such a beautiful world and each of the love interests have my heart (A&D my beloveds). I really like the Kurdish influences and it's extremely refreshing in such a Western European saturated genre. My question is: How did you come to the decision that there would be explicitly recognized inner and outer magic systems? It feels so unique.

This might sound like it's completely unrelated, but I was inspired by Middle Eastern architecture, culture, and Ancient Persian political systems.

While I was thinking about how the magic in this world works, I decided initially that everyone would have a core of magic that they could use inside of them. It was a more typical version of magic you see pretty much everywhere in the fantasy genre.

But while I was researching architecture for Arsur's world, I noticed that a lot of Middle Eastern architecture was built in such a way where the houses face inward, often toward an inner courtyard or an atrium, with a separation from the outside or the city streets.

This concept also recurred when I was reading about the structure of the royal court. The divide between the inner court and outer court is one I took from the Achaemenid Empire, which I later also applied to the Crown's own court.

A lot of this struck me as related to cultural norms as well. In my own culture, there tends to be strong divisions between in-groups and out-groups socially that filters out the way you are expected to behave, with many social rules attached to different situations. Or, put in another way, how you behave and think privately vs what you express publicly.

This recurring theme of division between "inner" and "outer" gave me another thought: what if there was magic both within living creatures, while also still existing outside in the environment? Wouldn't that naturally lead to thinking there would be two different ways to interact with magic? Similar to a difference in how you behave in private, "inner", vs how you behave in public, "outer".

And that's what eventually lead me to the inner/outer magic system! All kinds of brain connections being made there.

[dujour13]

Some warmth would be great. Seasonal prompts 19. warming cold hands/feet for siavash and woljif please. 🙂

Thanks for the ask! Apologies in advance for 1) grumpy Woljif and 2) nerding out via Nenio. Credit to my dad for Regill's insufferable aphorism.

The Pathfinder Winter Solstice prompts

“Yeah, who named it Ch-Chilly Creek? Hard up for inspiration, huh? And who decided we needed to pay a social v-visit to Chilly Fucking Creek in the middle of f-freezing fucking Kuthona? What’s with the c-creepy dolls, anyway? And then there’s what, a sea monster with t-two dozen heads? And it splashes freezing water on you when you try to s-stab it?” Woljif was really out of sorts. His feet were so cold they hurt—the parts of them he could still feel, at least. A steady, horizontal sleet pattered against their tightly wrapped cloaks. Under a wide hood to accommodate his horns, his teeth were chattering and his breath made angry little clouds.

“There’s no such thing as poor weather,” Regill declared. “Only poor preparation.”

“Hey, good one.” Lann raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

“What the hells? You’re half lizard, you oughtta be f-frozen solid right now.”

“Perhaps he’s not as cold-blooded as he lets on,” said Daeran. “Perhaps an ardent, four-chambered heart beats in that chiseled breast.”

“At least I have one,” Lann retorted.

“You err, my chimeric companion. My breast is perfectly chiseled.”

All this talk was diverting attention from Woljif’s complaining. “I c-can’t feel my hands. You better hope there’s no t-traps in Chilly Creek, ‘cause you’ll be outta luck. Hells, a f-fireball sounds kinda good right now, come to think of it.”

Yet they were warmly welcomed by Chilly Creek as Jernaugh and his friends led them through the gates and half the village came out despite the weather to greet them. Siavash and Woljif were lodged in a tiny but cozy guest cabin. Malessa brought them firewood and dry clothes.

“Well,” she said, looking Woljif up and down with a crooked smile, “these aren’t going to work for you.” She pulled out a razor-sharp filet knife and began cutting a hole in the trousers for his tail.

“You don’t have to—”

“Don’t fret. Easy enough to sew back up. Or better yet, we’ll set them aside for your next visit,” she smiled.

Woljif’s ill humor got the best of him: her smile seemed so natural and guileless his guard went up instantly. Good old suspicion and contempt would have been honest at least. He frowned.

Not seeming to notice, she peered at him worriedly. “You’re looking a little pale around the gills, sweetie.” His expression turned from grumpy to sheepish. “Get changed and warmed up and we’ll fetch you as soon as supper’s ready. See you shortly.”

At last Siavash noticed. “Great gods, look at you.”

Woljif was standing there shaking violently, hugging himself, his tail wrapped so tightly around his right leg he couldn’t bend his knee.

Siavash kissed his pale, trembling lips in concern, then helped him change, bundled him into blankets in front of the fire, and only paused to change his own wet gear when he was satisfied some color started to come back to Woljif’s cheeks.

Throughout this, Woljif was lost in contemplation. He couldn’t remember one instance when Gran took any interest in whether he was cold except to tell him to quit complaining. Seemed like that was normal. He’d always had an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe it wasn’t, but with everyone fussing over him there was no denying it. This is how it’s supposed to be, he thought angrily. How come I’m just finding out now?

But the anger melted into a glow of gratitude when Siavash scooted under the blanket next to him and snuggled close, making little concerned sounds. “Your hands are ice! By all the good gods, why didn’t you say anything?”

Woljif opted not to tell him he had said a great deal while Siavash was out of earshot. A pretense of stoicism could go a long way.

They sat cross-legged facing each other so that Siavash could tuck Woljif’s freezing feet under his knees and his hands in his armpits. One last huge shiver passed through Woljif’s frame as the warmth flooded in.

“Boy did we get an earful. His teeth weren’t the only thing chattering,” Lann chuckled.

Supper was a whole-village affair in the longhouse, fires blazing and dishes passed around a massive table. On his third helping of fish, Woljif was getting the ribbing he deserved for his complaining, which attracted Nenio’s unpredictable attention.

“Having a furless tail is indeed a thermodynamic liability,” she said, a phenomenally quick hand catching the appendage in mid-annoyed twitch.

“The high surface area to volume ratio allows for rapid radiation of heat, and the way you wave it around, convection is also a significant factor. Indeed, it’s curious you aren’t chronically hypothermic. Hm, it must have a thick subdermal layer of adipose tissue,” she said, poking it. Her grip was firm; he couldn’t pull it away without risking it whipping someone, especially the children who had gathered behind them to whisper and giggle. “I would hypothesize it possesses a countercurrent exchange system. Aasimar boy, if I take a cross-section for observation, you could re-attach it, yes?”

“Of course,” said Daeran with a mischievous smirk.

“Don’t egg her on!” Woljif cried, snatching his tail out of her hands and wrapping it firmly around his chair.

Meanwhile, down the table, Siavash was also on his third helping of river perch filets in herbed butter. “There’s no village leader?”

“No,” said Malessa, “it’s too small to bother. Whenever we have a big decision, anyone who cares enough to voice an opinion speaks up.”

“Loudest wins,” said Markyll.

“Sounds a lot like Andoran. So Jernaugh, no converts yet?”

The priest shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “No. I’m trying to convince them they can welcome Old Deadeye in their midst and keep their traditions at the same time, but they have their convictions. Not to say they’re stubborn.”

“He’s a clever one,” said Markyll, pointing a fork. “Just insistent enough not to get himself kicked out on his arse.”

“And helpful,” Malessa added with a warm look in her ice-blue eyes. “We’re growing fond of him, our odd little priest.”

Jernaugh blushed.

“So what I’m really curious about,” Siavash went on, eyes twinkling at the flustered young priest, “is how you’ve never had any trouble with demons. We’ve almost forgotten what peace like this feels like.”

“They don’t bother with a little backwater like this one,” Markyll shrugged, looking away.

“Our mother Icy Rill looks out for us,” added Malessa, but her smile had gone a little rigid.

Markyll shot her a quick glance.

“A parochial goddess,” Jernaugh explained. “Probably a Sarkorian river spirit. They’re very devoted to her.”

“But that’s hardly interesting,” Markyll said loudly. “We have the Commander of the Crusade at our table. How about some Crusade stories?”

That night Woljif lay awake in the cabin, listening to the wind and the soft hiss of snow outside, the restless wheels of his mind engaged in more contemplation. He was reminded of something Lann had said about everybody pitching in and being better off for it. This village seemed to be working pretty well on that model. Nothing like the streets of Kenabres. Dry clothes set aside for guests, platters of food passed around until you could burst, Malessa with her all-purpose fishing knife calling people sweetie.

Suddenly there was that prickly sensation at the back of his neck that meant his shadow was about to have opinions.

Something is not right about this village, it whispered.

“Somethin’ fishy?”

His shadow was silent.

“They’re tryina reel me in?”

Sheesh, his shadow really didn’t have a sense of humor.

Be wary. They’re hiding something. And another thing…

Woljif rolled his eyes, but he was listening.

It is because you weren’t coddled that you’re so tough and self-reliant.

His brows knit in the dark.

Don’t let them soften you up, the easier to shape you to their own purposes. Or stab you in the back.

“Piss off, I’m tryina sleep.”

“Hm?” Siavash rolled over.

“Nothin’, I didn’t mean you.”

Sleepily, Siavash tucked an arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Bad dreams?”

“I’m all right.” Woljif remained rigid and wide-eyed. He was definitely being coddled. It was making him soft, and he was going to regret it bitterly.

Right? Or was there a sort of strength in having somebody’s armpits to stick your hands in when they were cold?

He was aware he was in danger of believing what he wanted to believe, but it felt good to stop on that thought and snuggle into the pool of warmth in Siavash’s arms, heave a deep sigh of contentment, and let himself relax and drift off to blissful sleep. Beside him, the shadow seethed.

[le-velo-pour-dru]

hmm for the asks: 21: something you've kept since childhood

My family has these plates that have little sections in them for different food I guess, and they have these goofy pig designs and Halloween designs on them X3 💖 We still use them pretty frequently when my dad makes mac and cheese!! He puts mac and cheese in two of the sections, broccoli in one of the sections, and crackers in the last section. We've just been doing it like that my whole life, I'm almost seventeen and we still do it, it's great hehe X3 ❤️

[theunknownintrowert]

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know? (I love weird random facts :) )

ooohhh good question (hahah now it sounds in dan smith's voice 😄), i can't remember any except one thing from doctor who when he said that you can't wrap your palm around your elbow coz it's impossible to make all the fingers meet each other

i'm boring in weird facts sorry 😅

[rose-in-the-snow]

Sorry I saw ur tags on my trigun post (spacekrakens) about the manga and I'm happy to tell u that HIYA you can read the manga for free @ trigun-manga-overhaul !! ok byee

[onepiecesb]

Do you have a favorite color spread?

Oh boy do I! I’ve got so many favorites this was really hard and in fact I’m going to answer with more than one but you did say favorite so if I had to pick I would say this one is my favorite

Although it’s not officially a color spread it is in the color walk book and I always thought it was one but this really reminds of cover of 317

I picked this as my favorite because I really I love this one I have it on my mirror and I get to see it every morning as I get ready it’s like the strawhats are getting ready with me :)

[wanderingaldecaldo]

7, 17, 27, and E for streetkid!Val!

Thanks for the ask @togepies! 🥰

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

For both versions of Val, sometimes blocks or corners in Watson make her nostalgic. She hates it, because usually it makes her remember being small and alone after Virginia died.

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

God, yes. Streetkid Val is extremely self-conscious. Deep down she knows she is a badass -- how can you be one of the most requested mercs in NC and not be a badass? -- but that hasn't quite translated yet into self-confidence.

27.  What causes them to feel dread? 

Val fears leaving Mitch alone if when she dies. She still carries the burden of Driss's death, and she doesn't want to put him through that again, especially so soon.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Yes!! I think she and I would get on great. We would talk about quickhacks and coding and cars, just for starters.

[danidoesntart]

what’s your favorite color?

Okay so my FAVORITE color is light turquoise, like teal. I have all kinds of teal things in my house. My kitchen ware is teal, my bathroom stuff is teal, I almost made my living room teal but I decided on light blue instead. I love teal.

But my OTHER favorite color is pink. I'm always wearing pink. Always. I started wearing skirts recently and I have three pink skirts and I want another one. All my life (since I was about 2) I've been wearing pink jackets. All of my virtual pets growing up had pink clothes. It's my thing (TM).

If it's some kind of knicknack, it's turquoise. If it's clothes, it's pink.

[beartitled]

So if Billy's parents became monsters, what happened to Billy's old Henchmaniacs?

The dudes found real jobs

Look at them go 🧑‍💼👷🧑‍⚕️

[azarovas]

No Context Deadloch (2023-)

[fazedlight]

if it’s okay i’m going to be greedy…. c/g/r? thanks for sharing!!!

Ask Game

C: What member do you identify with most? I want to say I’m super cool like Lena (and on paper, I kind of seem like it - MIT degree, pilot, scuba diver, etc). But I think I’m most like Sam or Winn. Sam is pretty down-to-Earth most of the time, Winn is tech-savvy and geeky but in an understated way compared to Lena (and will occasionally completely fanboy over stuff in a way very similar to me). In person, I’m very unassuming.

I definitely borrow some of Brainy’s cultural cluelessness, though. (Yesterday I found out that the person I thought was Seinfeld was actually a character named George.)

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order? Oh my story writing is completely chaotic. This post has some screenshots for outlines of different fics, but to grab the top example:

I have a one-shot that is 32 scenes so far. It doesn't need more, but it'll probably grow more anyway. Scene 7 was the scene that prompted the fic, I think.

Scene 9 was written first (sort of). I've also written scenes 13, 14, 21, 22, 23, 24, and 30. Note that scene 7 isn't written yet.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? I can share some supercorp fic that were formative back when I was blasting through fic in early 2022, before I started to write my own: A Ribbon at a Time, Love of Forgetting, Hope, Hope(less) The extent to which it influenced my style, I’m not certain. I think those writers are much better at conveying their thoughts into words than I am (though I think this is something that I’ve been improving over time). On the flip side, I haven’t found as many fics that utilize canon as heavily as I do (part of why I started writing is because I wanted to rewrite the existing stories in canon… and now I drive myself crazy making timelines 🤣).

[butimnotseventeen]

Thinking Gale was a girl the whole time to find out he’s not would be so sad I feel for your past-self reading that series. I love the absolute disinterest in Suzanne Collins giving the characters atypical gender names tho

Thank you it truly was very disappointing but ultimately I am a Peeta girl at heart so it’s ok! And yeah I do love that about the series!!

[dujour13]

41. Comfort food for the micro story prompts!

Thank you, this was a nice one Ash ❤️ but it went over "micro" I guess. A little post-Fifth Crusade since I’ve been working on that today.

---

Before a crackling fire, Aivu asleep in his lap, Woljif stretched his legs out and sank deep into the comfy stuffed armchair and contemplated whether there was some way to teleport the contents of his stomach somewhere else and have more cake. Nothin’ a little dimension door can’t fix right up, he thought complacently, with a pleasant sigh as the pressure in his abdomen receded. A couple of hundred yards away a school of Andoshen trout received a happy surprise.

Doran came in and settled on the divan with a glass of sherry, loosening his belt a notch. “You’ve got a healthy appetite, son. Don’t know where you put it.”

“Haha, yeah.”

Nilufar came in and perched next to her husband with a cup of tea poised on her knees. “Sia’s gone out with Ky for a bit. I hope he works things out with him.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that kinda thing.” It hadn’t ever crossed his mind that people outside Mendev, especially eleven-year-old nephews, had a certain mental image of crusaders that didn’t bear much resemblance to reality.

“We tried to talk some sense into Ky but I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect myself. I admit I was a little worried Sia’d come back grim and scarred. And then there he was. Hasn’t changed a bit.”

If you only knew, Woljif thought.

“You seem like a sensible young man, Woljif.” Nilufar sipped her tea. Gods, she had the eyes, looking at you over the lip of the cup like that. Except hers were dark brown instead of hazel, her brows and olive skin a shade darker.

“I guess I am,” he grinned.

“This child,” Nilufar said kindly, “needs some stability. Schooling. Someone to comb her hair, for crying out loud.”

In Woljif’s lap snoozed what appeared to be a human girl of nine or ten with plump brown cheeks and a mess of purple hair. Her legs were tucked under her flouncy purple dress and she had tossed aside her dagger belt to curl up more comfortably. Both she and Siavash had informed the family repeatedly that she was a dragon and a friend, not their daughter, but this apparently was not the only imaginary dragon Siavash had ever come up with, so they weren’t buying it. No sense arguing.

“You’re right, but don’t you worry. She uh, has a tutor.” He’d made up his mind not to lie to Siavash’s family, or as little as possible, and strictly speaking it was close to true, because although Hal had sent her back to Elysium three times he always took her back. “We got good people to take care of her while we’re traveling.” A reformed succubus counts as good people, right?

“We’re relieved. Zarin wants to try to do something with her hair tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Hey, can I get some more a’ that cake?”

[awesomefringey]

Hi Sabine if you could please spread this, this account lists all the memorials planned for Liam across the world and regularly updates them, for those who wish and are able to attend https://x.com/HS_News_/status/1847077799942934740

Sending lots of love ❤️❤️❤️

LIAM PAYNE MEMORIAL

Europe:

🇬🇧 London | October 20 - 2pm | Hyde Park

🇬🇧Liverpool | October 19 - 2pm | Docks on keel wharf bridge

🇬🇧 Glasgow | October 20 - 2pm | Sir Walter Scott Statue in George Square

🇬🇧 Manchester | October 20 - 6pm | Cathedral Gardens

🇬🇧 Birmingham | October 20 - 4pm | Chamberlain Square

🇧🇪 Brussels | October 19/20 - 2pm | Parc de Bruxelles

🇫🇷 Paris | October 20 - 2pm | Jardins des Tuileries

🇩🇪 Munich | October 20 - 3pm | Olympiahalle

🇪🇸 Madrid | October 20 - 3pm | Plaza de Santa Ana

🇸🇪 Stockholm | October 19 - 6pm | Svartensgatan 8

🇵🇹 Lisbon | October 27 - 6pm | Meo Arena, Oriente

🇮🇹 Milan | October 20 - 3pm | Piazza Duomo

🇺🇸 US:

Newark - Delaware | October 19 - 4pm | Glasgow Park

NYC | October 19 - picnic* at 11am and another event at 6pm | Washington Square Park

*Picnic RSVP : https://partiful.com/e/2WoJi0Onf8jWijlyFU8E

Boston | October 19 - 2pm | Boston Common

Chicago | October 19 - 2pm | Gather at Grandmother’s Garden outside of Lincoln Park Zoo

Los Angeles | October 19 - 4:30pm | La Cienaga** Park in Beverly Hills

**RSVP : https://partiful.com/e/P5qPcaZkgLizNYhzP0mm

South-America:

🇧🇷 São Paulo | October 27 - 2pm | Parque Ibirapuera

Oceania:

🇳🇿 Auckland | October 20 - 2pm | Freyberg Square

🇦🇺 Sydney | October 20 - 11am | Hyde Park (Memorial fountain)

Asia:

🇮🇳 Mumbai | October 20 - 5pm | Marine Lines, Opposite Pizza by the Bay

———————

EDIT: added Boston

[ncmvds]

Who was your first OC?

|| Munday Asks | Accepting

|| The first OC I ever remember making had to be when I was in grade 3. I made a fictional race called Catricas right around the time they made the first prints of those dragonology books. They were 1/4th cats at the top and 3/4ths dragon from the bottom (the fraction was very important.) My character was a red dragon and a black cat mixed. Her name was Catrina (I know, I know)

|| My friends and I used to play pretend with our own Catrica characters at recess in the far corner of the field when people wouldn't judge us for being creative.