#there's one super long post in my drafts

[daz4i]

i'm normal and can be trusted around analysis of my favorite character (lying)

[ying-doodles]

drifting closer

a comic based off @lloydfrontera's post about touch averse javier slowly becoming clingy to lloyd after the end of the novel! :> although the touch averse part didn't make it in lol,,

[hallwyeoo]

Ellie’s memory of the golfing scene and what it tells us about her.

🚨spoilers for tlou2🚨

I think Ellie’s flashback to Joel’s death is very telling of how she internalized the event and the meaning she applied to his death. It’s also a good demonstration of her relationship to autonomy. Let’s break down the elements that were inconsistent with the actual event:

The stairs/hallway are much longer than they were. This suggests a sense of helplessness, an inability to get there fast enough. Joel is constantly out of reach.

There is blood on the floor outside of the door. Not entirely certain on this one but my hunch is that she blames herself for not seeing more obvious signs of violence/not knowing something was wrong sooner.

The door is locked, another roadblock in her path to Joel. She can’t access him, she can’t help, he needs her and she isn’t there.

Most importantly. Joel yells “Ellie, help me” (which he didn’t in the actual scene, he just screams. He doesn’t say a word in the actual scene)

Ellie hearing Joel scream for her help, calling for her while being horribly beaten, and her being repeatedly impeded on her way to him suggests that what she took away from his death is that she wasn’t enough. They always helped each other, always had each others backs, always got up. Ellie views his death as a failure. She was too slow, too weak, not smart enough to save him. She failed him when he needed her most. She is absolutely helpless to save him, just like she was helpless to save Riley, Tess, Sam, and Jessie (and Marlene, and humanity, and and and-).

Once again, Ellie makes a decision (staying with Riley, going to the fireflies, staying with Joel, being the cure, trying to forgive Joel) and once again her autonomy and ability to find closure is ripped from her.

This is the inciting incident of tlou pt2, this is the moment where Ellie’s whole world shatters the same way Joel’s did at the start of pt1. Ellie enters into the same cycle (which I like to call the “Joel cycle” because… yeah.) that he did, and throughout pt2 she stays in the “20 years later” phase of the cycle. She is changed, she has lost her light, lost what she fought for. She lost her chance to genuinely forgive Joel and rebuild their relationship. She is stuck in a gruelling and violent world that she has no anchor in, at least not anymore. His death is so sudden and so incredibly violent that it practically gave her (and me as well, tbh) whiplash. She’s in a state of total shock.

On another devastating note, this is one of the three times in tlou that we see Ellie beg (that I remember). The first is begging Joel to get up at the university of Eastern Colorado, the second is begging him to get up and for Abby to stop, and the third is begging Abby to not kill Dina because she’s pregnant. (Two times she begs Joel to get up, one time he doesn’t. Two times she begs Abby to spare her family and one time she does. What a beautifully haunting contrast)

To wrap up, every person creates an internal narrative, a story of their life that is crafted from their context and lived experiences. The meaning we derive from those experiences doesn’t always reflect the truth, and that can sometimes bite us in the ass majorly when we experience a traumatic event. We tend to want to find someone or something to assign blame to, some reason or rationale to why it happened. We tell stories. We write them in our minds about ourselves and what happens to us and what that says about us.

But Ellie is wrong. Joel’s death happened in response to a conscious and willing choice he made. It is in no way her fault, and there was absolutely no way for her to know or to stop what was happening. I think Ellie knows that much on an intellectual level, It just doesn’t change how devastated she is over the whole event. It can’t change the fact that she FEELS as though this was all her fault, that Joel did what he did to save her, that she could have saved him. That she should have.

[stunie]

*BUSTS DOWN YOUR DOOR*

ZEVIE !!

what do you think about thigh riding with one of the haikyuu men? i know, i knowwwww those mfs have nice strong thighs with all the games they play 😮‍💨 the first ones that come to mind are Daichi or Kuroo (i’m partial to captains it seems), but you write whoever you feel is most appropriate because i know you’ll hit it out of the park regardless!! 😩

lex lex lex….. so here is my response 🥺

[sweetcircuits]

My prototype has a message for you. He says he’s already part of a great team. ↳ [insp]

Bonus:

[tidesfate]

Mora, the original draft of the reality. The original backbone of which all creation was supposed to be built upon, the original book that was meant to be written with everything that would exist. Every piece of knowledge, every fate, every existence upon it and within it.

Mora, tested far enough that time had begun to dig its talons in. The first crawls of the clock, the turning of the cycles and the beginnings of change.

Mora, left not but a pile of what was decidedly unfit while stripped of the pieces that had use within the final design. The tossed out pieces of creation left to rot forgotten within morass of the void within the tattered husk of primordial ooze of what failed to prosper.

Mora, failed ideas cursed with sentience perhaps due to how far they were allowed to run before severed. Only aware of what it was, the pieces that built it, and not what was removed. The extent of the what almost was. No opportunity to chose to give or keep, for it was what was denied existence from the final product.

Mora, born hungry for all that was removed from it. All the knowledge, memories, fates whose first breaths had been within it. Born blind to itself, whom cannot be read through the lens of what exists for it is that which exists outside of that. Born to merely observe but never truly interact with what stemmed from itself, separate of itself; born with a need that will never be satisfied.

Mora, the nothingness that was once everything.

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[itsamenickname]

Is Polterpup Pascal in your Bowuigi Rapunzel AU?

Unfortunately, Luigi doesn't have a pet in my Bowuigi Rapunzel AU because when I first created the Luaisy Rapunzel AU in 2019, I didn't have a good idea on how Pascal would fit into my AU (and this also goes with Maximus too because I want my Rapunzel AU to focus more on the main characters and their different relationships (Luigi and Bowser, Luigi and Mario, Mario and Bowser, etc.)).

However, even though Polterpup won't be in the main storyline, this doesn't mean that he's completely out of the picture. An idea one of my friends and I talked about was the idea of Luigi and Bowser adopting the Koopalings & Jr. after the main events of the AU took place and I can definitely see Luigi wanting to adopt Polterpup as a pet companion for himself, Bowser and the Koopalings & Jr.

(And yes, in my Bowuigi Rapunzel AU, Jr. would be Bowser's ADOPTED son instead of his BIOLOGICAL son. As much as I love Jr., making him blood-related to Bowser would throw some major complications to my overall storyline because I would then need to figure out a few different things such as how he came to be and the impact he would have on Luigi and Bowser's relationship.)

Thank you for the ask! 😃

[dawntheduckrb]

I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)

I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏

[shi0n]

the relationship between the mutuals and me is much akin to pavlov and his dogs

[aeolianblues]

One of the most discrete feelings I've had in a while was an intense pang of sadness as my feet slowly dragged me away from the music venue, with the strongest feeling that I would have liked Gruff Rhys to adopt me

[doctapuella]

⭐⭐  Let’s fill tumblr with music again! ⭐⭐

When you get this ask reply with the song that got you into your favorite band! 🎵🎶

❤️❤️ I can’t wait to see the songs that shaped you! ❤️❤️

(and pass on the love by resending this ask)

oooooo okay so im gonna give a few because i need the distraction!

first song that really made me want to be part of a fandom and yell with people:

first song i discovered on my own and yelled about without caring about a fandom (i.e. there was basically no one else at the time):

song that got me into what i consider my favorite band (not the first song i heard by them, but the first that made me go "oh shit yep here i am now:):

[thundertide]

1, 22, 23, 28, and 36 for +1 Saiki <3

Character Development: Hard Mode!

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Despite the fact she didn't even know of him until she was about 16, and didn't actually meet him until several years later, Saiki has a twin brother: Heizou! Although the two were split shortly after birth by their conwoman mother Adria, Saiki's still managed to uncover the truth and come back to Inazuma for multiple reasons - The biggest of which at the time was to find Heizou, and at least get a chance to see the brother she was taken from... A goal that snowballed into telling him the truth, and them finally getting to be the siblings they should've been right along.

Despite the distance between them for most of their life and having walked two totally different paths to this point, Saiki and Heizou share a pretty damn close bond. They've had time to adjust to things and long since confirmed the truth of things, and with that they've been able to get to know each other and develop a close, tight-knit bond that Saiki absolutely treasures. Sure, Heizou is stubborn and sometimes hard to work with, but that's part of his charm - Or rather, that's what she's always explaining to anyone who asks how she can stand him, especially because she knows nobody will understand if she explains the truth. He's stubborn, hardheaded, even a bit scheming... But he's also warm when given the chance to be, brilliant, supportive, and an amazing brother she wishes she'd gotten to know sooner. <3

...Just as long as he doesn't tease too hard. She'll force-feed him his vision if he decides to be a jerk. <3

22. What does your character like in other people?

Saiki's incredibly fond of people who speak their mind, but also know how to be kind. There's no reason to take 'blunt' and use it as an excuse to be a jerk, or to not listen to someone trying to explain something to you you actually should know. Perhaps this is a result of being raised by Adria and having seen everything Adria was trying to pull off, even helping her before she realized the truth of it all, Saiki isn't sure, but she very much values a desire to listen and learn and grow, and to hear someone out before making a judgement on them. A gentle word, determination, and kindness go a long way, and so does a willingness to work with someone rather than deem them a horrible, terrible person right off the bat.

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

Scheming, cruelty, refusal to listen... While she's aware not everyone should get a second chance, especially if they'd thrown one away before or expressed an unwillingness to change, using that to judge everyone even remotely connected to them or similar - especially unwillingly or unknowingly similar - is an immediate turn off. Jumping to a snap judgement and judging everyone on hello is another thing that'll ensure she stays away from someone, especially over minor things, and expressing a desire to hurt, manipulate, or use someone is a surefire way to make her avoid you. It's one thing to have a job or a skillset that requires it, such as her work with the Kamisatos, Heizou's need to manipulate situations for confessions and investigative reasons, and Thoma's need to maneuver situations for information, but to hurt others just for the fun of it... Nah. Nope. She's out. Even with a reason for it, it should be a good reason, she feels.

Saiki's also not really that fond of people who're willing to let their anger take control and attack or lay into someone basically on hello. This is a result of her being Adria's daughter and facing people more than willing to hurt her for Adria's crimes, refusing to hear her out and assuming she's the same as her mother or working with her, and while Saiki understands, a jump to being willing to scream in someone's face or hurt them in situations like this actually scares her as a result of it all, and she'll give them all the space in the world.

28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

Moderately slow, unless she has absolutely no choice to. As much as she hates the skillset she has and is learning but struggling to see it as something good and her own, Saiki would much rather navigate through a situation with words rather than through jumping into a fight. Piecing the moment together, then picking it apart and working away from a battle makes much more sense to her - Stupid things happen when tensions are high, and she's seen enough stupid things in her lifetime to not want them repeated.

Now if she's being threatened and knows trying to work her way out of it isn't going to work? Sword time! <3

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

Saiki is immediately quieter around those she doesn't really like. This quiet is vastly different from 'uncomfortable quiet'; rather than being fidgety or looking uncomfortable enough she needs to slip away, when she dislikes someone, she's just... Quiet. She'll look their way, but she won't speak unless spoken to directly first, and keeps her tone as straightforward as possible, hoping to avoid any reason to stay longer than she has to. She's not rude, nor will she avoid doing business with them if they happen to be a merchant or someone involved with Yashiro Commission affairs, refusing to cause trouble for anyone else, but she is quite clearly less bouncy and bright than normal, like a lightbulb that's had a shade place around it.

Unless someone is paying close attention, it's not easy to tell she doesn't like who she's around, just that she's a little quieter and less forward than usual. If she's with Thoma, Heizou, Ayaka, or Ayato, she'll let them do most of the talking in the moment and only speak up when she has to, choosing to take a background role. Even so, she's not afraid to speak her mind when she still has to, yet is clearly choosing her words far more carefully. She's not going to make it super clear she doesn't like someone, but she's also not going to hide it, either.

[nejackdaw]

morthal and markarth for the skyrim asks!

Ty for the ask! 💞

Morthal - Do you enjoy exploring dungeons and ruins? Why or why not?

Kinda depends tbh. Dungeons with multiple rooms absolutely FULL of enemies encourage a more stealthy approach, and while I'm a capable stealth archer, it's not my preferred play style, so it can be a bit unfun. The alternative, however, is the ENTIRE DUNGEON hearing me engage in melee and swarming me at once, which. Also isn't fun. Ultimately I guess the answer comes down to "depends on the number of guys in there" and "how likely is Marked For Death to solve the entire issue?" Skyrim is basically the only game where, when given a choice, I'll choose martial over caster or archer, but this can be a problem in packed dungeons. I like single or few guy brutal slugfests where we just beat the shit out of each other. Also then I can just take a break to throw up my shield and watch Celann materialize to OHKO them, which fills me with glee literally every time

Markarth - If you could rewrite one questline in Skyrim, which would it be? (This answer is sooooo long btw)

Hmm... I'm actually not too interested in a lot of them, but when it comes to being disappointed in one, it's the Civil War questline. The entire thing amounts to "use your main character powers about 5 times in a dungeon or something and then go fight the oppositional leader." You can't even fix Whiterun, a place you specifically took for its geographical, strategic, and mercantile advantage. You just leave it in ruins???

There are two quests in the entire line that aren't just "awkwardly storm this place with a couple guys,' and one of them is optional. Both sides have a "steal/plant enemy orders" quest, but the "gaining intel/blackmail" quest is in both cases entirely optional. There's one non-combative "sneak and find this document/gather intel" quest, and no "root out a traitor" or "disrupt a supply line" type quests (technically this one is awkwardly tacked onto the end of the optional quest.) The Dark Brotherhood, Dawnguard, and Thieves Guilds have similar respective quests that we can compare to the 1.5 non-combative Civil War quests: finding intel on Maro's son, the radiant "vampire advisor" quests, basically the entire beginning TG questline (Honningbrew, Goldenglow hives.)

Each of these questlines involve non-typical quests, aka quests where you have to approach it a little differently than the rest of your work: the Brotherhood stealing documents and planting false evidence like thieves, the Dawnguard committing assassinations and pickpocketing orders like both the Brotherhood AND the Guild, the Guild quest where you engage not only in open combat with Mercer, but kill him, like both the Dawnguard and, well, the Brotherhood Brynjolf insists you're not.

While those questlines are largely the same sort of quests on repeat, it's because they're, well, specialized guilds. Built entirely around doing those things. That's their entire function. When it comes to a war (which is very NOT a guild,) you'd expect a bit more than just a few skirmishes, especially considering the only thing that changes when you join is, well. There's one more guy in the skirmish. But magically this turns the tide and the entire war is won through brute force when previously there seemed no end in sight. The questline lacks variety, is incredibly, oddly short for what's supposed to be a war, and generally just... lacks impact. Nothing really happens afterwards. Faction camps are still sitting around, and you still can't even clear them. Hold guards are replaced by the faction that won and Whiterun is permanently in shambles. Can't even fix Whiterun ffs there's not even quests for that.

* After leaving this in the drafts for a few weeks and thinking about it some more, I think ultimately the problem IS the brevity. "Do four battles and suddenly we win" is absolutely insane. The Dawnguard DLC and the Thieves Guild, even the one single time I played it, have spoiled me rotten with the never ending radiant quests. It prevents the Companions feeling of "I joined three days ago and now I'm in charge and everyone does what I say" that throws everyone off. Not only can you keep accepting them, the mainline quests don't get in the way of accepting them (... like the Companions only telling you to go talk to Aela.) This means you can keep accepting radiant quests that provide a feeling of integration and contribution (in)to the guild, and also avoids the Companions and Civil War feeling of "I did three quests and it's over and everyone is bowing to me" by allowing you to do guild things in-between the main quests.

Not only that, but they offer a variety the main line might not provide, especially with the Dawnguard. For example, siding with the Volkihar includes a quest where you're given Dawnguard armor and told to go cause a scene, striking down some innocent civilian in the name of "vampire hunting" to sow public distrust. This quest is cool as fuck conceptually btw, why is a Volkihar radiant cooler than the entire CW line???

Ultimately I think if I could change one thing about the Civil War line specifically it would be adding TG/DG style radiant quests that can be done between main missions and also include "milestone" type quests that really bring home the feeling of growth and contribution. I think it would make it feel considerably less jarring and I'd even maybe consider playing it again if we could fix Whiterun.

[teoporiuli]

damn i really should finish that drabble about wolfin's death/spiritual journey/ascension...

[nereidprinc3ss]

pillow talk

in which spencer reid chooses a very odd time to reveal an anecdote from his past to fem!reader

18+ (fluff, extremely suggestive) warnings/tags: fingering but nothing graphic whatsoever, it's basically fade to black sex, discussions of spencer's gsw from season 5, medical talk (and inaccuracies), spencer is a sarcastic little shit a/n: found this super random little thing in my drafts and it was done and i think it's silly and cute so i'm posting it! 600 words, short n sweet!

“You got shot in the knee?”

It’s perhaps said too loudly for the setting—tucked into Spencer’s bed in the late hours of the night when up until this point the conversation had been nothing but murmured stories and quiet giggles. And before that, well—before that there hadn’t been much conversation at all. 

Still you can’t find it within yourself to apologize as you sit up, holding the top sheet to your chest and looking down at Spencer incredulously. His eyebrows raise like he’s surprised by your reaction. 

“Thigh, technically. And it was years ago. Come back.”

You huff but allow yourself to be pulled back down, head on his shoulder as his hand finds its place stroking your hip once more. 

“How have you never told me that?”

“You never noticed the multiple incision scars on my leg?”

“What? No! Can I look now?”

“You won’t be able to see them. It’s too dark.”

You angle your head toward him, and he does the same, tilting his down until your noses almost brush. 

“So turn the light on.”

“If I turn the light on I’ll get distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” You ask, realizing what he means and voice quickly fading even as you finish the sentence. He chuckles and kisses your head. 

“I’ll show it to you in the morning. Come here.”

“I am here,” you grumble. He hums, leaning down further to try and kiss you. 

“Closer.”

So you scoot up the mattress and roll onto your side, pressed right against him, to meet him halfway in a sweet kiss. 

“You’re kind of spoiled,” you laugh against his lips as he begins pushing the sheet from your body. 

“You have to be nice to me. I got shot, remember?”

“Right. And how long ago was this, approximately?”

“It was 19 days before my 28th birthday.”

So much for approximations. 

“Aw. You got shot for your 28th birthday?”

It’s his turn to laugh into the kiss as he carefully rolls over you but recovers quickly, assuming a deadpan delivery. 

“Yeah. And it was really bad.”

“Sexy,” you murmur as he kisses down your jaw. “Tell me more.”

“Shots to the leg can be life-threatening if the femoral artery is nicked. Thankfully the bullet missed mine. You’re welcome.”

Your heart skips with a split second of true anxiety, but you snort at his cavalier attitude. 

“Yeah? This is really working for me.”

He lowers his voice to the one he uses in more intimate contexts and you giggle as he explains his gunshot wound to you like it’s dirty talk. 

“The bullet went in through my rectus femoris…” now uninhibited by the sheet, he finds the spot on your thigh and pinches lightly, “and came out clean through my semitendinosis muscle.”

“Clean? No bone fragments?”

“Nope. The doctors said I was extremely lucky it didn’t splinter my femur but it completely destroyed my muscles. I had to do physical therapy for a year and a half and I had a cane for months.”

“That’s kind of hot,” you breathe, losing commitment to the bit as his kisses get lower and his hand creeps higher. 

“Wait until you hear about the mid-surgery aortic clamping and ligature complications. You’ll love this—I was awake the whole time.”

A soft moan slips from between your parted lips and your brows pinch. 

“Spencer—”

“What?” He murmurs. “Me getting shot in the leg isn’t sexy anymore?”

You manage something between a breathy laugh and a mewl as your back arches. 

“I’m gonna kill you.”

He hums against your throat. 

“Good luck. You’d be far from the first to try.”