#well maybe not all of them...what am i made of storage space???

[bellyprincess]

“You know, at first, I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle this.” I say, rubbing my hand against your taut skin as you coo and lean into me. “I mean, a 6’8 guy like me knocking up a 5’3 girl like you is one thing, but you’re having TRIPLETS. And the doctor says we shouldn’t expect any of them to be less than ten pounds.”

I hear you whimper as you’re reminded on just how big you feel. Your pendulous belly hangs off your frame as you sit on my lap on the bed, your lower curve hanging low and feeling oh so heavy with nearly 30 pounds of baby and fluid crammed in your overly tight womb.

“That being said…” I pause to crane my head down and kiss the back of your neck. “…you’re carrying them so well, babe.”

"Haahhh, that's what you get for doubting me. D'you really think I'd just give up cause I-oooo, cause I got a little big?" I leaned my head back into your chest, being reminded of not only how big I am but of just how big you are. The only difference is that you've always been that big, easily a foot and half taller than I am, but I've always been a stubborn and determined little thing. Even when you tried to tell me that your monstrous cock would split me apart, or that your baby wouldn't be easy to carry. My body was just as stubborn as I was and just to prove a point decided I wouldn't take simply one or two of your huge babies, but three.

Now, all three of our boys were nestled in my expanded womb and fought for space daily, but it only made me more determined. "Hell, I think they're already ten pounds. I wouldn't be surprised if your offspring don't come out fifteen pounds each. Would explain why these are so leaky, at least." I scoffed and slapped at my equally large chest sarcastically before moaning when the action made them leak onto my shirt.

I almost looked ridiculous with a belly the size of a storage tote and tits that each looked like a beach ball. But it was always your sweet words and your soft touch that made me feel ever increasingly sexy despite the baby factory I've become. Your huge hands always made any aches feel better, especially when you lifted my swollen middle with ease and more so when those hands started wandering to the pussy that lured you in to begin with. "Do you think so, darling? Mmm, maybe I need some reminding of just how well I carry your big babies inside of me~"

[sukunastits]

Weaponized Incompetence

Weaponized Incompetence 2/?

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Warnings: none? other than my near endless supply of stupid shit that can be said to make men think you’re stupid. Sfw

Part 1

You were entirely blameless for the next incident. Truly, you had been minding your business, avoiding responsibilities like any good non-commissioned officer. Secluded in one of the far off storage rooms on the west side of the complex, counting boxes of paper towels - far enough out of the way that Sgt. MacTavish had to have come looking for you, specifically. Adorable man, you thought giddily, watching him situate himself in the metal fold out chair next to you. 

He wasn’t a tall man, maybe the shorter end of average, but you figured he made up for it by being the general size of a wide-load tractor trailer. Which was to say, when he slid the chair - legs scraping against the concrete ground - closer to you, he invaded like the tide. “Listen, lass,” he started, like you couldn’t smell his cologne over the stale, dusty air. Tobacco and vanilla, maybe. A little slutty, combined with the eyes and the facial hair and the accent. 

Maybe you were just projecting. 

“Ah get that you come from tae city,” he continued, phone in one hand while he braced the other one on the back of your chair. A part of you wondered if you should be worried; cornered in a far off room by a commanding officer wasn't the best start to happily ever after, but whatever. You were here to drive him up a metaphorical wall, not a white picket fence. “And ye probably never had tae deal with farm animals, but ye can’t go ‘roond spoutin’ nonsense like the other day.” 

Was he still on that? You had hit him with that well before the weekend, and he hadn’t wasted time with cornering you. It was Monday. God, you thought, I am blessed to live rent free in the Scottish Highlands. 

He wiggled the phone entreatingly. 

Staring back from the screen was Google, “are eggs dairy” typed into the search bar. Pressing your lips together, you slanted a sideways glance at him. He looked back, expectant. 

The nice thing would be to let him win this, you knew. A little tee hee, so sorry sergeant, let it die down before you hit him with some other out of pocket shit. But you hadn’t gotten this far in life by letting men win, even pretty ones. 

Especially the pretty ones. 

“Ohh,” you breathed, nodding to yourself like you’d had a world breaking - egg cracking, even - revelation. Sgt. MacTavish smiled, broad shoulders relaxing as he leant back, dipping back out of your personal space. “I get it now.”

“An easy mistake,” he placated. You both knew it wasn’t. 

“No, yeah. You still think birds are real.”

An atom bombed dropped slower than his smile did; there one moment, gone the next. Total annihilation. You would have to play this one carefully. Not laughing hysterically would be a herculean effort, but so worth it. 

“What tae fu -”

“No let me explain,” you cut in, flapping your hand at the wrist. It annoyed men, for some reason, a floppy wrist. Like a weak handshake, it triggered their little neanderthal brain. “I get that it sounds weird out of context. But like, okay. So in the, like, 1970s, in America? They had this President, right, Ronald Reagan?” Wrong. “And he, like, hated birds. So he formed the CIA,” made even funnier by the Task Force tangentially being CIA controlled, “And had them capture and kill all the wild birds, right? Except obviously people would have noticed if all the birds just disappeared, so he had them replaced with robots.” 

You stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he was keeping up. He stared back, lips pressed together and nostrils flared. “Or androids? I don’t really know. Are they different? I think they’re synonymous. Anyways, he had robot birds made so that he could spy on the American people during the Cold War. And, like. He couldn’t do it with domesticated food birds, so he had them sterilized. And cows evolved to make eggs because birds couldn’t.” 

You nodded, and smiled, empty. Vacant. Not a thought in this head. “So I guess you used to be right,” you finished, patting his arm like it was a consolation. 

MacTavish opened his mouth, closed it. Let out a breath through his nose like an angry bull. For a moment, you wondered if this was it. Was this really all it took? The Birds Aren’t Real Conspiracy? You had so many more. GMOs. Bananas. You could be a very convincing Flat Earther. Buffalos. God, you loved the buffalo bit. 

“Who,” he stopped. Started again. “Who told ye that?” 

“My Governments teacher,” you answered immediately. “Mr. Schumacher. I loved his class, he taught us soo much.” 

“He lied.” MacTavished butted in, voice low. You bet he sounded like a blender in the morning, all gravely bass. You wanted to coo at him, at how cute he was, all ruffled. Instead, you did your best sure, Jan and shrugged. 

“I mean, I think a teacher would know better than the internet, but if you say so, sergeant,” you agreed placidly.

Stressed, he rubbed a hand over his mohawk. And then, phone still in hand, he pointed at you, and left. 

You watched him go, agreeable with the way his jeans sat on his ass. You wondered if he ever wore those bedazzled Buckle jeans. You wondered if you could ever get him into a pair either way. The door slammed behind him, shaking a layer of dust off the ceiling tiles. After a moment, when you were sure he wouldn’t be coming back, you tossed your package of paper towels into the nearest box. 

You needed a new hiding spot. 

[waywardwritesstuff]

Sleeping with the Shooter: A Crosshair X M!Reader

Crosshair X M!Reader (platonic/brotherly) Word Count: 1,489

Tags: fluff, comfort, platonic, intended to be brotherly (NOT INCEST)

Summary: It's been a while since The Bad Batch have been able to take a rest from missions on their home world of Kamino. But reader can't help but notice that things are changing, especially within the world of Clones. He seeks comfort in his brother Crosshair on the long journey home through hyperspace.

A/N: this is a self-indulgent one-shot I wrote for myself but I thought that maybe some others in the fandom could use the comfort from the ending of The Bad Batch. Enjoy!

Another long mission, another long flight back to Kamino, another sleepless night in the cock-pit of the Marauder. I was sitting in the cockpit, my legs up on the dashboard watching the light from the stars flash by us as we jumped through hyperspace. It was calming, serene, a gentle break from all the blaster fire, destruction and pressure of our missions. I was born to be a soldier, but this life was starting to feel less and less like mine. I’m starting to notice our disposability, it urks me, but there is nothing I can do about it, which bothers me even more.

As I continue to stare into hyperspace I feel a disturbance beside me. A creak confirmed my suspicion as the seat to my left now had the body of one of my brothers slumped into it.

“Tech’s not going to appreciate you having your boots on the dash.”

I shrug, “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him”

“Do you ever actually sleep?” Crosshair’s deep voice rattled out again.

“Do you?” I retort without looking at him.

He huffs continuing on whatever conversational path he had planned out in his mind.

“Your thinking too much again, aren’t you” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Blunt and plain.

But not without a hint of concern, something our brothers often miss when talking to Crosshair, I can hear it, the underlying emotions in his speech that our brothers cannot.

“How can I not-“ I respond “- its in my code, my programming” I knock on my head, a dull thud sounding back.

I sigh and continue to watch the stars as they whizz past us, focusing on one flash of light until it's gone and then focusing on the next, I can feel my eyes flitting around in their sockets. He sighs as well and I see him, in my peripherals, lean forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on the fingers of his curled-over shooting hand.

“What is it this time?”

“Us” I say darkly

“Us?”

“Us, our purpose, our reasoning, our next mission for the republic, us” I elaborate numbly.

He’s heard this all before and every time he tries to convince me that the Republic will always have a purpose for us, they made us, and they need us. The same old bullshit. He never sees how they treat our brothers. We come and go too quickly and our names just become numbers in a data bank, dust that litters the battlefields of the galaxy.

Crosshair maintains the silence without giving me one of his usually patriotic responses. I listen to his breaths, the nasally sound as his lungs push the filtered air of the ship in and out. As I’m watching the stars go by I don’t notice that Crosshair has stood up and walked over to my seat, I am too lost, in space and in my own mind. I nearly jump out of my seat when he puts a hand on my shoulder. Out of reflex I immediately turn and grab his wrist forcing it back.

“Shit” he cries and I let go of his wrist instantly

“Damnit it Crosshair…sorry” I mutter

“No, that one was my fault”

I inhale sharply and close my eyes for a moment, hugging my arms to myself before blinking them back open. Crosshair is still standing there, though noticeably a pace or so back from my chair. He looks at the ground thinking a moment before he looks at me and nods his head in the direction of our shared room. If you could even call it that.

I was the second biggest compartment of the ship aside from Storage, it was deck out with standard issue barrack bunks, with a few personal touches of course. Wrecker and Tech on one set, Wrecker's bunk is always decorated with Lula sitting in the corner by his head and Tech, as usual, has fallen asleep with his data pad hanging loosely from his fingers. The next is Hunter and Crosshair’s bunk, Hunter’s bandana hangs on the edge of his bed and Crosshair's bunk is empty, though I know he keeps a chest under his bed with some nicknacks from missions and planets we have visited, but I never bring it up. And lastly, Echo and I, Echo’s bed is also empty and mine is covered in a few bits of graffiti here and there.

My bunk is on the bottom which is why I assume that Crosshair is gesturing towards my bunk instead of his own. He climbs into my bunk and gestures for me to follow. The notion takes me aback slightly, none of us have had to share a bunk since we were younglings, not out of necessity or choice. We used to do it when we were still developing in the Kaminoan facility, making sure to stay close to one another. Minus Echo of course, we weren’t joined by him until much later. But Crosshair had always been off put by the idea of sharing sleeping quarters when there was an option to sleep apart, even when we were kids, so this gesture was not something that was normal for him to so willingly offer.

However it would seem that Crosshair could see what kind of struggle I was facing in my head, my programming though good for tactical advantages and strategy is not ideal for anything else. Maybe my state had become more noticeable as of late. I would need to make sure to rein that in as to not screw up future mission.

I climb in beside him in my bunk and he shuffles over so that his arm is bent underneath me. I rest my head on his chest and once I’m settled he curls his arm over my shoulder and cups the back of my head, placing his gloveless fingers into the mess that is my hair. The softness of the touch from his hand takes me by surprise, it was unlike him to be so gentle. He was swift, aggressive and tactical, it was his design. But his nature was not his design, he could be gentle, and he was very calm at times when he chose to be. I know this, and yet still the gesture does not fit with the image I have of my brother.

My head rests on his torso, right where the red marking that we all share on our breastplates would be. His heart thrumming a steady rhythm under his ribs, I follow the sound in my head, counting the time between each beat thump bump thump bump thump bump. The sound of it and the gentle but sturdy feeling of his torso underneath my chest had made me feel safer than I ever had. All I had known was War but this…this made me feel like I could have faith in the hope of life after war, maybe one where me and my brothers have freedom and true autonomy.

I divert my attention to his hand in my hair and focus on the bend of his fingers that are cupped around my head. The smoothness of his palm. Maybe tonight won’t be a sleepless night after all. I know how the brain responds to stimuli that are connected to memories and feelings of being safe, but I know all of that in theory. Not in practice.

Following this train of thought my mind wanders and I get lost, staring into the wall above Wrecker's head on the other side of the compartment. Briefly I wonder if Crosshair needs this as much as I do, and he’s using me as an excuse and guise to get this attention he needs, whatever the case I am happy to give it, not only for myself but for him. I know what Crosshair is like, he never takes care of himself, he takes better care of his rifle than he does his own mind and body.

I am pulled out of these thoughts, my eyes suddenly refocusing as his other hand comes into view of my face. I think that maybe he is just moving in his sleep and waiting for him to settle down again, but he isn’t moving like he’s asleep, his hand is moving lightly towards my face, almost as if cautious. He is still awake. His hand finally come to rest on my cheek, the barest contact between my face and his hand, but he holds it nonetheless and whispers something

“You’re a good kid” I bite my lip at his statement, and my eyes begin to sting. What the hell am I crying for?

‘It’s the stimuli to positive attention after an absence of it’ I remind myself.

I breathe deeply and absently I nuzzle into his hand and hum contentedly. And with that, at least for tonight, I am at peace and drift off to sleep.

I take requests if you like what you see then send in something per my guidelines

[grison-in-space]

This is a bit of a subjective question but since I am potentially getting my first dog later this year (application in, but no deposit taken or breeding confirmed) my question is: when do I start getting Dog Things?

Sounds like you're getting a puppy, yeah? Bearing in mind that Matilda is my first planned* puppy as an adult, and that as far as I'm concerned you can do anything you want forever...

....advice under the cut, alongside this photo of tiny Benton, on the theory that puppy photos are always welcome.

A lot of timeline things will come down to how communicative your breeder is. For example, I contacted Tilly's breeder about a year before I expected to reasonably bring home a puppy, and she briefly and with some excitement tried to convince me that it was a good idea to take home a very promising puppy she had who was about six weeks old at that time; after some time to think we all agreed that this wasn't a great idea--and then I re-made contact when the next litter on the ground was about ~3weeks old, then finalized which puppy was going to be mine at about 5weeks. There's going to be a lot of flux and "well maybe but--" stuff in your life until you have a puppy born and on the ground who is definitely going to be yours, and your timing decisions for stuff are going to be influenced heavily by your breeder, which in turn is going to be inflected by the culture of your breed. ( @kangals for example recently took home Kepler with what, two weeks of notice once a breeder had been identified?) Some breeders are better about letting waitlisted folks know when there's a litter actually on the ground than others, and it's wise to expect a certain amount of messiness about that. Historically I have purchased puppy gear in a mad scramble immediately after confirming that there is a puppy happening--sometimes with puppy actually in hand as I do so. Nothing wrong with that, but if you WANT to be assembling things for yourself in advance...

In my experience, you will want a crate in hand by the time baby is home. Depending on how much cash and/or desire for nice things you have, you might want to look into crates that are also interior decorating or storage. We bought and assembled one that could double as an end table pretty much as soon as we were certain there was definitely a puppy coming home, because my bedroom is otherwise essentially wholly taken up by the bed and I needed a place to store a puppy that also offered a certain level of space for detritus like my glasses.

If space and/or Niceness is not a premium, wire crates work perfectly well and take about two seconds to set up nicely. Some of these advertise that they come with a divider so that your puppy doesn't take advantage of all the space to use as a toilet; I have never once used one of these for that purpose, but I have mostly had medium sized puppies. I do like having a door on both a narrow and a wide end. I like to put a waterproof crate pad and some remnant scraps of flannel in a puppy crate to start and go from there: dogs in my house lose "bed" privileges if they destroy a bed or crate pad, but I find that crate pads are a little less tempting to destroy than a bed with raised edges. I also find that the flannel scraps let them get out the itch to dig and shove things around without actually tempting destruction too much.

You will want to have chews around for teething when puppy arrives. Which chews you feel most comfortable with are up to you. I have not personally had any problems with rawhide, so I usually offer a mixture of rawhide rolls, "himalayan yak cheese" chews purchased in bulk, and a variety of higher-value faster-to-destroy chews. I have exactly one dog ever give even the tiniest of shits about a Nylabone, and it's Matilda, and I have never had a dog willingly chew a Benebone. I find that both the length of time the chew lasts and how motivated the puppy will be to chew are highly dependent on the puppy; some dogs seem to like more "give" and others simply hit anything that isn't quite hard (e.g. antlers) like a buzz saw. Your breeder will have some insight on what works for their dogs. Chews do lose their luster eventually, so I would aim to purchase those within about a month of estimated puppy arrival if you don't have a dog around currently.

You will also want to purchase training treats as well as kibble within that one-month window. I like Pet Botanics, but any semi-soft treat small enough for puppy mouths will do. (The size of your puppy will inflect this somewhat: I recently watched a handler of a tiny Miniature Dachshund puppy struggle a little with training because she'd brought only his kibble he eats for meals to catch his attention with, and that is just not interesting enough for classes). I also often offer cat treats in my rotation: Temptations are pretty popular with dogs, too, and so were tiny freeze dried shrimps intended as cat treats. If you have a small breed, cat treats are often a better size for your puppy than treats intended to be consumed by a large dog. I also heavily recommend Crump's Naturals for folks with small breed puppies; they're just freeze dried beef liver cut up real small, but it's very nice not to have to crumble it yourself.

If you want to do training classes, now is the time to find out what options are available in your area. My experience has been that you want to get your puppy on a waitlist for those as soon as you know a) the puppy definitely exists and b) when the puppy is coming home. You should expect to have the puppy at home for about a week before classes can start, to adjust to living with you, but it's good to have all your ducks in a row ahead of time, and in the past few years it's been hard to predict demand for dog training in the wake of COVID.

You should expect not to keep your puppy's puppy collar, leash, and potentially harness forever as puppies grow like weeds, so it's okay if there's a range of fits for those. Your breeder may send you home with a collar and leash--Matilda's did--but if you have something cute you want to daydream about, now's the time!

*We've had Benton from puppyhood, but he was adopted in the middle of COVID when I was in thesis hell and essentially insane, and it occurred to @coffee-mage-sans-caffeine that the single upside of COVID is that they could get a sport prospect and get to play with Doing Dog Stuff, since now we had all this new quarantine time. We had to get a puppy because Tribble is a cranky dog selective ass, and we wound up somehow getting approved by a deeply dubious rescue lady to adopt the first puppy we applied for.

[prinnamon]

Hello! I saw your post about subtitling and fanworks other than fanart and fanfics and you mentioned being a subtitler yourself. If you’re okay with answering this could I ask how you started being a subtitler? (if that’s even how it works lol) I’m guessing it depends on what you’re subtitling but I’ve always super appreciated subtitles and the ppl that make them and think it would be fun to do

hope you have a nice day/night!

this ask sat in my inbox for a while because sadly my PC's power supply unit failed and made it less convenient for me to write lengthy posts. however! i'm back in the swing of things and im too excited to let it sit here any longer.

long post under the cut!

to start off, i wanna make it clear that what i do currently is write english-language subtitles for english-language content on YouTube! there is no translation involved. i'm not confident enough with any other languages to sub any other kind of content. so all the advice i can offer is gonna be related to my specific experience! (i'm learning that maybe i should have used the word "captions" instead of subtitles to eliminate confusion. you can tell i am an amateur and not a professional since i thought the words were largely interchangeable)

i started doing captions for fun several years ago as a fan of The Shrieking Wizard Co! that company/channel had an associated discord server, and there was a section for fans to submit captions for their videos using a service called Crowdscriber. i was not super good at it or familiar with any of the best practices at the time, but i could make out even overlapping voices pretty well and i had a lot of free time!

the SWC is no longer around as a company, but even before that i'd fallen off of doing captions for them since school started to eat up all my free hours again. recently, though, i picked the habit back up and started doing captions for a niche machinima series that a friend got me to watch! the first episode and a half already had captions, so i was dismayed when i realized the rest of the series lacked them. in a sort-of special feature video from a couple years back, the creator mentioned plans to enable community captions so fans could pitch in if they wanted! however, since then, YouTube has removed the community captions feature.* but the creator is still active and the series is still ongoing, and i figured i probably had the tools available to me to caption the episodes on my own. i reached out to ask if he'd like the help, and he said yes! so wahoo!

a lot of creators would probably be happy to accept volunteers to help them with captions. some larger creators may even be open to offering someone a paid job at it. the worst they can do is say no or not respond, so there's really no reason to be afraid of reaching out about subtitling one or more videos that mean a lot to you! sadly, this is not going to be as reliable for older stuff on abandoned channels. you may have the resources you need to subtitle something but no way to reach out to the creator so that your subtitle files can be uploaded and seen.

the first step of my process was to download all the episodes of the series that i wanted to caption! it's also fine to go one at a time if you lack the storage space, of course. i used VLC to download YouTube videos (check out this tutorial! it wasn't what i used at the time, but i think the one i did use is out of date and your odds with this one might be better!), but i know there are other reliable options out there.

YouTube's built-in caption/subtitle editor is pretty ass and not fun to work with! i find it frustratingly limiting. luckily, there are free programs which do it better. i've got decent experience editing videos, so the free version of the program DaVinci Resolve is my subtitle editor of choice since it feels very much the same as editing videos like i'm used to. i'd open it up and take some screenshots to show off the process, but my PC is currently not functioning. i will say that i found it pretty easy to muddle through after a couple basic "how to add subtitles in DaVinci Resolve" tutorials.

i still don't know if i'm the best person to give lessons on best practices for captioning, but here are some very basic guidelines i try to adhere to:

don't let captions take up more than two lines on screen at their standard size! three or more lines of captions cover a lot of what's happening on screen. there are times when it might be absolutely necessary because characters' lines are overlapping while other sounds are also occurring which are crucial to the viewer's understanding of the scene, and that's okay, but 3+ lines of captions should really be a rarity.

generally try to have one sentence on screen at a time! there are plenty of exceptions to this. for example, a character may utter several short sentences in a short amount of time (eg. "Yes. Okay. I understand.") which don't make sense to break up any further because the captions would be flashing on screen for such a short time, impeding readability. moreover, a character might say a sentence that needs to be broken up at a logical midpoint so it doesn't take up three or more lines on the screen.

preserve comedic and dramatic timing. sometimes the above rule must be sacrificed so that the punchline of a joke or the narrative twist of the knife is not revealed before it's supposed to be revealed.

sounds that characters acknowledge and react to, or which impact your understanding of the scene, should be represented with a caption. the audience probably needs to know about [distant gunfire] and [pained scream]. however, in a lot of cases, a sound is implied by what the audience can see or is unnecessary to their understanding of the scene. the audience probably does not need to be told that the door which they can see opening is making the sound that a door makes when it is opened. the audience can probably infer that the character who they can see walking is making audible footsteps. but then there are times when these sounds might be important because the characters comment on or react to them. it's situational. i say use your best judgment.

generally, above all, be courteous and remember that subtitles are a tool, and they're not something silly with. it's really not the place for jokes. it's more clear and useful when a gasp is captioned as [gasp] as opposed to [O_O] or [le terrified gasp]. it's more clear and useful to describe the sound of an airhorn as [airhorn] than to write [HOOONK!!!]. and please don't use captions for extensive easter eggs and inside jokes. like alt text, it's not a place to hide treats for people who click a secret button. it's an accessibility tool. (i'm pretty serious and passionate about this point, and i don't wanna see jokes about it in the reblogs or replies.)

if you can understand and transcribe what's being said, you Must do so accurately. this includes swear words. this includes slurs and disrespectful language and words and subject matters you're uncomfortable with. if you can't bear to type these things out, you're not the person who should be writing captions for this particular piece of media. if a hearing viewer can hear it, it must be captioned. deaf and hard-of-hearing viewers deserve to know exactly what is being said.

this page might be able to help you get started with some more specific professional guidelines! i disagree with some of these; for example, subtitling a foreign language as [speaking French] is really not ideal, because a hearing viewer who speaks French would be able to understand what was said, so you're giving the folks using the captions an incomplete experience. like i said above, if you can understand what's being said, transcribe it accurately.

YouTube accepts at least a few different file formats, including .sbv and .srt (if you're saving as an .srt from DaVinci Resolve, make sure to check ".srt Without Formatting"). proofread your work before sending it out/uploading it to catch surface errors! in fact, i recommend checking the captions in YouTube's subtitle editor by uploading them on a private video to see whether it throws up any errors at you or has any unintended formatting junk that you need to go back and eliminate.

i hope this was somewhat helpful and can maybe inspire you to go for it yourself! this mostly felt like me rambling about my personal experiences and opinions, haha. at the very least, if this didn't make any sense, maybe you can look at it and go "well if she's this incoherent and can still write captions/subtitles then certainly there's hope for me" lol. thanks for inviting me to talk about the thing i'm passionate about. it's a joy whenever someone asks me about this. i hope to get to do it as a job someday (though i'm not looking forward to when i inevitably have to caption somebody as [speaks Spanish] due to professional practices).

*i have heard from one or two folks that YouTube's now inviting viewers to contribute captions in a different way, by "providing corrections" to a video's auto-generated captions! even if this is true, i have to say it doesn't really excite me. in my opinion, trying to work around the automatic first pass is usually a worse experience than starting from scratch. the auto-generated timings tend to be really bad, usually not cutting naturally at the beginnings and ends of sentences, and that's ignoring the fact that auto-generated captions also censor swears and transcribe many things incorrectly. YouTube really should never have removed community captions. i hope they get brought back or replaced in a meaningful way

[youredreamingofroo]

For those awaiting an answer on one of my more recent posts, and whether I'll be leaving, here it is. .....Under the cut, as it, in my usual fashion, gets lengthy, you can skip to the end for a TL:DR :)

I'm not going to leave tumblr/simblr, I'll be floating around and still liking people's posts, I'm probably gonna unfollow some people (not my mutuals ofc ilya) just because it's hard to keep up with my dash when I get over 10 notifications every 2 minutes or so especially when if I'm not going to primarily consume Sims 4 content. I'm going to put my mods folder into my external HDD, in order to preserve them ykwim, and I'm going to uninstall TS4, I'll try to make one more sim before the sims 4 gets poofed off my laptop, although as it stands even after freeing up 20 GBs of space, my space went back down to 400 MBs so 😭😭 I will probably be posting variety content, even though I know all my followers are primarily Sims content consumers (some of ya'll do other stuff, but I mean as a whole, my audience tends to be more Sims 4 related), I might play and share some of my Sims 1 content, which is not story oriented, it's just a little gameplay of Roo in the Sims 1 :) I'll also probably post Baldur gate stuff (if I can free up the storage for it LMAO), I'll post witcher content maybe, and plenty of other things, and like I said, I'll continue to float around, and I'll continue to reblog any Sims content I see and enjoy... as well as other things. .... So what about W.A.S? Yea. I dont know, while W.A.S IS supposed to be a fleshed out story, and while I know I AM leaving sims 4 behind, completely limiting what I can and cannot make story-wise (just cuz I don't know how to make scenes and stuff lmao), I will ATTEMPT to make W.A.S content, I will still make and post the Official teaser, and I'll probably introduce the characters myself sometime after the teaser (I'll take screenshots in CAS and just hope my storage doesn't dip TOO low). I may release some of the story in just text form, as I do really want to continue to post about the story. I'll try to come up with something tho, don't worry :)

I may also start getting back into art, I still need some hobby to preoccupy my time that isn't gaming, I will still do blender stuff (since I have a bunch of my Sims' DAEs) and I will maybe make more edits, but regardless, I still enjoy art and Sims 4 kinda consumed the time that I wanted to spend doing art, soooo yeah.

For the unrooleased tag, I have a bunch of sims that I've never posted, as well as renders that I've never posted, and I may, as Sims 4 filler, post those to fill the void that will become my Sims 4 content

and FINALLY. LAST THING I promise :) I know all of ya'll LOVE Roo, and I do want to reinforce the fact that ROO IS NOT A SIMS CHARACTER, I did NOT make him originally from the Sims, if you were at any point worried I would stop posting about him, I will not be, I will continue to share about Roo, probably with a lot less pictures considering I really only used TS4 as a visual assistant for his story, I do have his DAEs, so I can make SOME Roo blender content, albeit limited with Scenes and stuff. Roo is a character that I will continue to be passionate about, I never mentioned this but I LOVE to make Roo in pretty much every game I play (besides Skyrim................ and ofc games where u dont have customization), like Animal Crossing, I made a variant of Roo there, and in Stardew! You get the point, he will always be a prominent figure of my content. I may also bring back some characters I made from TS4, like Nirvana, I LOVE her character and would LOVE to continue to post about her, as well as Roo's family, I love posting about his family members and sharing their own story and what importance they are to Roo.

WOW, okay that was a lot, if you're skipping here for a clear answer, or a sort of TL:DR, here ya go, I don't want to leave tumblr, so I won't, and I won't necessarily leave the Simblr ring, TS4 is going to be uninstalled, but I WILL preserve my TS4 mods in my external HDD, and be on the look out for the last sim I make in TS4 :)

[judasiskariot]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

The 🖤judasiskariot❤ round - thank you lovely delightful @pinkberrytea for the tag 💕🌸

When did you start writing?

Already enjoyed writing creative essays at school. Wrote my first fanfiction (yugioh) as a teenie at an anime/fandom website. Got really into it, with writing fanfiction about a RPG I were playing/writing at the very same time.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Maybe I read more smut than writing it. Because it seems I always need to put up huge story before smut, so it makes sense, cause the ghost of dumb it is ooc comments are still in my head.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I guess not. Both ways (I just often say I am a film noir or Tolkien type cause I often get lost in description or heavy in inner monologue. We could be in Mordor....or only went down the hill, same length. So happens with me. (So gods no never ever would I say I can write like Tolkien!!!! I just mean by that, that I do not keep some things sharp and short when maybe needed, as I do prefer in real life)

I am a huge Dante Alighieri and Vergil fan, compare me to them and I will always love you 🤣🤣

I just feel like a bardic soul 💜📜🪶

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Desk is always occupied. Also is there gym, man sleeping medieval storage cave (The Manc Ave, right Terry and Korvo? 😉Dig old bicks)

Hardly wifi connection in there. I have no stationary pc, only cheap small laptop (it is hard to be a bard xD) so writing on the couch.

I have reading and writing candles (my luxury; even I should not)

Love to write in my bard poetry book outside in the nature 🌳🏞️🏕️☀️

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

🤷‍♀️

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

DRAMA OVER BLOODY DRAMA

I am the drama queen.

Love some angst and emotional damage; make it harder than it needs to be.

But also horror, gore, love and smut.

Never surprised.

and dumb sassy joking; could write forever funny crosstalks like chat. Would anyone read that? Than I would write all my ideas, ALL! So efficient and quickly. Sooo...I get lost in my Tolkien surroundings 😅🙈

maybe i write more cheesy and theatrically than I thought 🤔

What is your reason for writing?

SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT, RIGHT?🤷‍♀️

😄

No. I am not skilled in any other divine arts and I guess that's the only thing I can call on. I like it. I always liked it. I can create something, that's nice. And I've written so much RPG and FF as a teenager, I messed it up and I hate that I didn't do it for over 10 years now. Why abandon the thing you were good at, had fun with, made progress while practicing? So that all progress seems lost and you have to start from zero?

I'm glad I've started making progress again, maintaining what I once set out to do, and learning to be better.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I'm incredibly happy with every single comment, even if it's just a smiley.

" You really did read my thing? How great is that!?!?" 😍🤩

But comments with a specific part or a line that they liked or whatever, their specific thoughts on certain parts are incredible. As a writer, I need feedback to know if I'm doing well and if I'm on the right track. Do others know what I wanted to say? Does it come out right? Otherwise I cannot improve.

If someone shares their exact first thoughts, what they thought about certain passages while reading, then the work pays off. 😍😍🤤🤤

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

As someome whose writig is good? 😅🤷‍♀️🙈 someone they can talk to. some nerdie partner in crime.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I have no clue. No one told me. I guess maybe having drama ideas and writing the inner struggles of characters.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Also here not much confidence in my own writing.

I got the two beasts in me: GOD YES! BEST WRITING EVER. THIS IS SO GOOD! THEY HAVE TO LOVE IT! CAN'T WAIT FOR REACTON TO THIS!🤩

Reread it: what da fuck is this?! 😠 I thought this was good?! I have no clue where I wanted to go with that 🤷‍♀️

BUT I can also be proud, reread it and think "I did this. I created that myself. It may be not the best, just small and silly and cliché, but I created it myself!" Be proud, all of you writers!! 👏🏻🫵🏻💪🏻 We are forgotten so often.

Do people criticize paintings for being ooc? Well..I guess assholes being assholes in every aspect of life 😅😆

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I do it cause I want to. But of course the external motivation is important. Lack of comments and feedback makes you quit, mean people make you quit. You post cause you want to share your joy with others, hope they enjoy it too. When they do not, it can be bitter.

But still for me I guess. But non the less, I pick up things I think others will like (but not troping or so, writing things I dislike myself cause they are gaining online likes and so on; not in that way never) When I know a certain mutual/friend is reading the thing, I put easter eggs/insiders in it, they should get; things I think they might like and makes them smile. If someone would request some things they would like to happen/read, I would totally pick it up when possible. Shared happyness is happyness doubled.

thanks for the tag lovely

All my muts, please keep tagging me. I just keep forget doing it, when I can't do it right away.

And spinning head prevents me from that. I see what nonsense I write in the DMs and in every lil post a huge amount of spelling mistakes; I can't do it better at the moment; so embarrassing🙈

I've had a hectic time, sorry, but I love things like that and always smile when I get tagged😃😘 (and sometimes I'm a little unsure about telling something about myself. The urge to disappear completely one day and the next day I urge to overshare. Plus bad experiences with some folks😅🙈 )

I tag @nihil-ism @damadisangue

@sorceresssundries

@mercymaker

maybe you guys want to ramble a lil bit

[check out their works (if you like 😘)]

[whumpbug]

OKAY OKAY THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT. How would each of your new sillies text. all caps? kaomojis? walls of text? would anyone be a triple texter?

THIS ONE IS SO FUN AND SO SILLY. going to provide a tiny example for each!!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!

✮⋆˙

nieven: this guy texts like he's still sending things through messanger Spigeon (space pigeon). he texts in like. email format. like its a letter.

"Good Evening Nylathrania,

I am messaging because I noticed the third restroom (the one just to the right of the hangar bay and to the left of the storage closet) has run out of paper and there was none in the cupboard. I was wondering if you'd put it on the list for the next port stop so that this matter may be resolved quickly. Thank you.

Best wishes, Captain Nieven Alaric."

✮⋆˙

hari: he's more casual about it... maybe too casual. typos galore. he's the triple texter. he spams people phones because he breaks up his thoughts into each message (me too...)

"yo vinmy do you have that book for that1 planet"

"the one with the green n trees n shit"

"yknow"

"with the pink flowrs"

"the ones i wad allergic to"

"hello"

"helloooo"

✮⋆˙

nyla: she is your kaomoji user. she texts so cutesy and compared to the rest of them its so funny and out of place. she is so cute. she just has fun decorating her messages

"guysss dinner in 20 minutes o(>ω<)o i made earth ice cream for desert!!!!!!!!"

"wait... sorry hari forgot you can't have that ueueue (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)"

✮⋆˙

zel: SHE TEXTS OMINOUS AS HELL. HER TEXTS ARE SO WEIRD AND CREEPY. NO ONE KNOWS WHAT SHE MEANS SHE JUST SAYS STUFF AND BOLDS RANDOM WORDS ITS SO SCARY.

"Nyla. Be alert."

"Hari... Trust that you will have the day you deserve."

"Where is everyone..."

✮⋆˙

vinny: they send BRICKS. of text at a time. they text like they talk and they can YAP. its worse because there's hardly any puncuation or line breaks when they message so its just. hell.

"okay guys so we're gonna land on this new planet soon ive been looking at some of the readings and it looks like the planet might be cold ill be fine. but make sure you all bring extra layers because last time you were all complaining even though i gave you ample warnings so make sure you pack that also. make sure no one has any weapons looking at you zel because we won't be let in if we have any i was translating the radio waves, which seems to be their main form of communication to outsider. it says that we shouldnt be armed in any way. it may be suspicious but its better than risking an entire planet to war against us. any weapon bigger than a normal pair of scissors (5") is strictly prohibited looking at all of you (zel) to make sure you empty your pockets. check all your packed clothes and bags as well. daggers are also prohobited. make sure you bring extra layers once again we dont need any of you getting forstbite"

✮⋆˙

ren: baby boy isn't the most literate because of his upbringing so nyla and vinny showed him emojis and his life has been changed ever since. he hardly EVER uses words in his texts.

nyla: hi ren!! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ i'm making dinner, do you want anything specific?? ^^

ren: 🍜 ❓😄 🤔

nyla: okay! noodles it is!!!! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

✮⋆˙

AUGHGHG THEY ARE SO SILLY THIS WAS SUCH A FUN QUESTION THANK YOU!!!

[acorpsecalledcorva]

The neuroplasticity (or lack there of) of CDDs is really interesting in how it manifests over time. Because in so many ways I really am still a 5 year old child quietly crying myself to sleep, or a 17 year old girl desperately trying to establish an identity of my own in a world that feels like it has no place for me awash a sea of hormonal changes (second puberty really hits so different and yet so similar). But it also really does afford the room for real growth and change.

That change comes at a cost though, which is that I constantly feel alienated from my past selves. I cannot remember what I used to think, or why I thought it, only what I did and said and maybe what I was interacting with and try to work out my thought process from that. It's like most people are playdough, constantly being reshaped to a lesser or greater degree but still containing all that they were, while I'm Lego, I can be disassembled and reconstructed, but the pieces are solid, adding new bricks as needed and discarding those that are not (or putting them in storage at least).

We are also, of course, products of our environment. When your life is marred by identity uncertainty, we look to our surroundings to give us clues of who we might be. When I was on Reddit and browsed /r/all I would see the occasional tumblrinaction post about the plural community, fictionkins, and IRLs and think "well that's definitely not me. Discovering I was trans and coming to terms with being a marginalised identity, it was discord communities that taught me what that could mean and what I should be ready to fight against. On twitter I was lucky, I found the traumacore/empty spaces community that helped me to process the images I saw in my head that I didn't understand, and use my trauma as a tool of creation.

Taking part in the system community, it was the older focused communities that helped me to understand myself. I honestly don't know what my syscourse stance was back then, if I even had one. There are aspects of the wider online community that just don't vibe with me, some were a little damaging, others were simply incomprehensible to me. Joining Tumblr definitely shoved it in my face though.

The only thing I can imagine is that I must have thought that endogenic plurality was this "other" thing, I knew about DID, what switching and fronting and host and protector and system meant in that context, but endogenic plurality was something else that didn't concern me and I hadn't really come across it yet. So I was absolutely confused as fuck when I came here and saw people using all those "DID" words to mean something else. When anti-endos said "you can't form a system without trauma" that made absolute sense to me at the time because system meant DID and that's caused by trauma, why are people claiming to have DID things and using DID words while also saying that they don't have DID? Actually I do still kinda think the terms should be separate but it's not a battle I can be fucked to argue about anymore.

Because the point is that while online spaces might not change all that much, and there will always be people who join those spaces and be influenced by the culture in them, there are always other spaces that will influence them differently. So while it's absolutely frustrating as fuck to see anti-endos repeating the same horrible origins discourse, and endos saying fucking awful stuff like "I think traumagenic systems cling to trauma as a cause because they feel insecure about being a system", we need to accept that it will still keep happening while the spaces exist and remember that the people from those spaces are the ones with the opportunity to change. To learn, to see things from a different perspective, and most importantly grow.

And if they refuse to? If they keep spouting the same points over and over and over again, refusing to back down or learn, reigniting old arguments and digging stuff up from the past because they just can't let go of it? Just leave them to it I guess, we'll all be off making ourselves and each other better ^^

[peterlorres21stcentury]

unpopular opinion: mods should enhance a game, not make it suck less

also sprach Lorrethustra, the endlessly reincarnated

And yet here I am, making some desperately needed improvements to a game that, while fun at first, needed some serious thought and maybe another year in development.

So far I have made the following changes to Starfield with the help of the amazing Bethesda modding community, because I don't have a fucking clue how to create my own mods so I offer naught in return. Notice how entirely simple these problems are:

-Doubled the experience gained from any action (thanks to a second mod, having the well-rested perk from sleeping will quadruple it!)

-Multiplied the amount of credits for each vendor by 10. Because enormous, interplanetary juggernaut corporations of the future only trust their vendors with 5k in virtual monies in a 48 hour period. 🙄 Seriously, it should be 100x that, but I'm trying to be reasonable here.

-Made it so that random quests are not shoved into my mission log just because some guard made a passing comment while I was near. I always hated this method of quest-giving. It felt invasive and annoying even in Skyrim, as it assumes that every character would be willing to delve in that cave or join the Thieves' Guild or make deals with a daedric prince or whatever, but in Starfield it is an absolute plague. If I want your quest I'll ask around for it!! Stop force-feeding your players this bullshit!!

-Furnished the Starborn ship with such extravagant luxuries as: a few chairs on the bridge, and one (1) bed. Because even though I don't use the ship that often, it's still part of my fleet, so I might as well make it a livable space instead of the iphone store-looking, sterile white void we got (seriously, the modder just added some decorative assets that were already present in the game files and intended to be used on the ship. Bethesda CHOSE NOT TO USE THEM WHYYYY

That's about all for now. I was thinking of finding something that increased the storage capacity for outpost containers from 600 units to... something a lot MORE THAN THAT. Why would you make outpost extraction rates so high if you can barely store it all? How can I realize my dreams of becoming an interstellar freight/resource tycoon if my base is nothing but walls of stupid shipping crates (which don't share inventory automatically and need to be connected through a mess of wires even when they, you know, snap together and ought to logically share inventory?? but that's a separate issue)? If the dev team understood their player base at all they'd understand that we are greedy rapacious loot goblins who need moooooooaaaaaaar, damn your hide 👿

I don't know if these decisions were intended as some kind of meta commentary on the nature of your character or what (the Starborn is reborn into new universes chasing their fruitless quest for some vaguely defined power, therefore the meaning of life is suffering and so the player gets diminishing returns on their repetitive journey? Is that what they meant?) but as *cough* deeeeeep and philosophical as that may be, good game design it ain't.

To think I wrote this much all because I wanted a way to level faster than the default pace of "not at all." Because despite the game having no level cap, the game literally does not offer you enough activities to grant the necessary ~500,000 cumulative xp points to reach level 100. Even going through a new game+ multiple times and repeating every single quest will not be enough unless you have literal days of free time. I never felt so starved for perks in Skyrim or Fallout 4, ever, despite the xp rewards being roughly similar. But you spend higher levels in Starfield so very hungry for xp because the curve of points earned per level is, as far as I can tell, near exponential. And the rewards do not scale with your level, nor with game difficulty. A level 90 enemy will always grant something like 120 xp, and you have tens of thousands of xp points to go.

Sorry, but this especially is truly boggling my tiny mind. Not to rant about something so trivial; I am only too keenly aware that this world is filled with actual pain and suffering, but I'd really love to know what they were thinking when they designed such an abominable leveling system. A grindy MMO this ain't, my friends. That next perk point should be a rewarding goal, not an impossible waste of time. It's like one team carried over the xp rewards that would be comparable to Fallout 4 (you get about the same per average enemy, anywhere from 50 to 200 points per kill, I think) and then a separate clueless team said "I mean, it's one level, Michael. What would it cost? A hundred thousand xp?"

I could go on, but I have other things to do today. I want to make it clear: I do not hate this game! A lot of it is incredibly absorbing, and I wish there was more to it (outpost building, crafting, surveying planets). But there should never be this many annoyances and pointless barriers to make these mods a necessity.

[impawsiblecat]

100 Days of Deathduo

Day Five- Reverse Phasmo Au Chapter 3

    The breaker is off the next morning. Again. Clover groans as she shivers in the house. She should. She should really draw those curtains back. That would probably be a smart idea. 

    As she lets the light into the house, even the warm sun cannot hide the chill of the house. Clover doesn’t know if its because the breaker is off or because there is an actual ghost in the house. A ghost that she has realized is going to be a very big problem. And because they are gonna be a big problem, Clover needs to find a solution. Which means going back up there. With the ghost. Who throws stuff at her.

    Maybe she waits a little bit. Clover has actually brought a jacket this time, and sure, its a little dark inside, but she can make do with the sun streaming through the ratty curtains and her phone flashlight. The ghost didn’t really do anything harmful, granted, just threw things and made her house cold and kept during off the breaker, but well. Its a ghost. Clover isn’t dumb enough to go into a room with a ghost anymore than she had to. 

    And so, she works. She wipes down the desk, cleans out abandoned paperwork, and sweeps and mops the floor, making the place liveable. Some of the furniture probably needs to be thrown out, but a lot of it is fine, which makes Clover’s job easier. Yes, she has a ghost living in her house, but at least she doesn’t have to pay for a nice desk. 

    The pictures on the wall show the previous family who lived here, two parents and three kids it looks like, the ones presumably chased out by the ghost, and Clover doesn’t want to just throw them out, even though she doesn’t really like the idea of having random strangers staring at her while she does what she needs to do. She puts a picture of a teenage boy holding out a fake sword towards the other two younger children by the paperwork, and vows to try to find the owners as she smiles at the playful scene. It would be a shame if such sentimental pictures were thrown away.

    No wonder they needed such a big house. Unlike the family, Clover has all these rooms to herself and her projects, and she really doesn’t need this much space. But the house has plenty of capacity  for if she wants multiple guests over and a room for her cat and an office area. And apparently room for her forced roommate. Because Clover still has no idea what to do about the ghost.

    Clover does know what to do about the dusty bookshelf in front of her, though. She wipes away the dirt that has accumulated and carefully glosses over the spines of fantasy books and old time classics. Surely the family wouldn’t mind if she read some of them. The Lord of the Rings trilogy looks very tempting. Not that she could read it with the current lighting situation.

    Clover sighs when she realizes she is going to have to go back up to the storage area soon. It’s getting darker outside, and she at least wants to finish sorting out this room before she leaves. She is going to have to brave the cold area and the ghost who throws a ton of things and turns off the breaker. 

    The stairs creak again as she walks up them. She is really going to have to get those fixed, the sound is already getting a little bit annoying. Clover goes through the room near the top of the stairs, and feels a jolt of pride upon realizing she didn’t even get lost this time. The doorknob to the closed off storage room is cold again, and Clover shivers as soon as she twists it and walks in again.

    “Hello again ghostie. I appreciate the day-long break. I tried to do as much work as I could without the lights. I even brought a jacket this time. But it is getting to be night again! And I need to continue working. So uh, if you don’t mind, I am just gonna turn this breaker on over here.” She says, turning her head around the room. There isn’t any response. Even when Clover flips the switch, the ghost is suspiciously quiet. 

    “Alright then. Thank you.” Clover says, inching back across the room. She stumbles across the cross she had left there last time. “Ah. I forgot about this. Um. I am just gonna leave that here for you as a gift. Ghosts like crosses, right? She says, going towards the doorway and stepping out of the room.

    The ghost appears near the cross as soon as Clover steps outside, and she yelps at the sudden appearance. They look her in the eyes, and smile and lean down to the gift. And then the cross lights up in flame as the ghost lets out a silent laugh.

    “Ah, alright then.” Clover says faintly. “Not the religious type, I see.” She says, before hurrying down the stairs for the second time in two days. 

[zarithial]

I am also bad at picking characters so uhhh

Gonna pick at random because I cannot think

uhhhh Vital maybe?

Today on how many words can zari say before vey die: Vital Vital Chords Yet Unbroken is one of the Lands Edge iterators! That means he has @thatcreationsureisunending and @nofathomtoodeep as brothers! Vital and Creativity are so close that they consider themselves twins, being built around the same time frame... unfortunately the time frame being on the edge of generations. So while Creativity is gen 3... Vital is gen 4. They are the second and third iterators in their group respectively.

More on what makes Vital interesting: Vital is a living archive with practically infinite storage space. the primary piece of his structure is a massive library that occupies a good bit of his upper structure. Their chamber is also directly connected to this library so his citizens could just... walk in at any point in time if they needed something. Vital was very close to their citizens, to the point where he was likely the most effected by the ascension out of the LE group. All of LE coped with it in their own ways... mostly by isolating themselves. Unfortunately, Vital's coping mechanism was interaction with others. Vital was isolated, not of his own choosing. their twin had cut himself off from them when they needed him the most. So. Vital went a little insane after prolonged isolation.

Which is where we get to what he's like now A deranged iterator who dedicates their time to keeping a record of every single creature they can acquire... through Taxidermy! Vital has multiple levels of the archive dedicated to the remains of various creatures, most in game creatures he has an example of in his museum levels. Vital is loud, jumpy and frighteningly analytical. He is judgemental, rude and likes to make fun of others... basically the opposite of how he used to be! Oh and fun fact, his puppet was not made correctly :] They were supposed to have facial expressions and were meant to be average iterator height. Instead, they have a static blank expression and are shorter than normal. the only expression they have is with their antenna which can rotate forwards and back. My brain is running out of things to say whoops. Uhhh Their structure is incredibly well built, to the point where the only way it would collapse is via direct intervention from either himself or an outside force. His city has an art-deco design and was called Vigil. The citizens were all rather knowledgeable due to effectively living on the worlds biggest nerd. festivals were a regular occurrence and vital would often watch from his chamber. He is jealous of Fathoms ability to leave his structure and has been trying for so long to find a way to get out. he isnt able to find a way however. Not without outside help anyway.

aaaand there go the thoughts. Okay! Hope you enjoyed reading that :]

[sorserah]

Shower-Thoughts - Deacon/Female Sole Survivor

Summary Female Sole Survivor and Deacon enjoying the pleasures of hot water in Vault 81 Notes So this is the first fanfiction I wrote ever but I hope you enjoy anyway. (It's from 2016 guys lmao) _________________________________________________ Tags: shower sex, fluff at the end, mild smut, first person POV, I don't think there is a plot _________________________________________________ ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227689

The cat was back, the medicine for the boy was found and the mole rat threat was gone.

As a reward I got my own small apartment in Vault 81. 

„Mhmm cosy“ I mumbled and it wasn’t sarcastic at all, I was happy to have a safe haven where I could go when I wanted, if I wasn’t close enough to sanctuary. I let my eyes wander through the room, a small bed, some storage space and a bathroom with a shower. Was it working?

The overseer who had shown me the room noticed that my eyes lingered on the shower. „So I know its not much, but we agreed that we could spare a bit of our hot water, lets say for once or twice a month.“ She cracked a smile. „This is great, thank you very much and I mean it, really, one of the things I miss the most is a hot shower.“ The overseer nodded understanding and left.

I was working on warm water supplies in sanctuary, but there were still a few supplies missing and I expected I would have to clean myself in ice cold, with radiation contaminated water for at least the next month.

I locked the door and undressed as fast as possible. „Um so you will take that shower now I guess?“ Deacon asked. „Yea wanna join?“ „Nah I think I‘ll pass.“ „What?! Are you serious, why?“ He sat on the bed. 

„I have had bad experience with a shower once.“ he replied and leaned back „You know, when I was on a trip for the Railroad three years ago.“ „Mhmm tell me about it“ I mumbled while I tried to get my armor parts off. He leaned forward elbows resting on his thighs „I was in a Vault like this once and there was it: a SHOWER“ he told me like it was a horror story „and I thought ‚Hey why not, you should clean yourself and maybe, but just maybe the water will be warm, like a small pond or a barrel in summer.‘ But then after I was completely naked and was about to step under it, Raiders appeared and took me and my clothes with them.“

I unzipped my Vault suit to my navel and asked with a pretended shocked voice „Oh no Deacon what happened?!“ I knew he was lying, his acting was over the top again, if he tells the truth, most of the time he’s rather uncomfortable with it. „They made me into a Pin-up Model for Raider Recruitment. It seemed it worked well.“ he shrugged his shoulders and went back to his traumatized voice „Anyway since that day I swore to myself that I will never take a shower ever again.“ He was staring at the wall and brushed away a fake tear under his shades. I started laughing and he joined. „Sometimes I am very relieved that half of the stories you tell me are lies.“ „Only half of them?“ he raised his eyebrow.

I stepped out of my Vault suit and Deacons mask slipped for a second. I turned, stepped under the shower and cast one last glance to him, he was now leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and opened his mouth but I pushed the button for the hot water and Deacons response drowned in a moan. „Oh my god yes“ The water ran down my head over my back and it felt so, so good. Not only the dirt and blood vanished in the drain, even my sorrows were gone for the moment. Its been 210 years, but back in the days taking a long hot shower at least once a week was natural. I had almost forgotten the pleasure of it.

It wasn‘t long before I heard clothes being dropped on the floor. „Is it hot in here or is it just me?“ Deacon stepped behind me in the shower, pressing his front against my back so he got something of the water as well. „Oh my god yes, you were totally right.“ he moaned deeply and I felt his growing erection against my ass. I turned around and raised my left eyebrow „You are hard. Already?“ „Keen perception Professor. And I have to admit the water here plays an important part“ he blew a kiss to the shower head „Oh yea and by the way, the last time I heard a magnificent sound like that come out of your mouth was two weeks ago and I am a little envious of that shower“ His Hands now on my shoulders slowly brushing my collar bones with his thumbs. „Mhmm Why?“ I played along, he leaned forward „Because it has this beautiful woman all for itself“ his voice low and cheeky, right next to my ear, his hands sliding down my shoulders to my back. „The water flowing down here to this well formed butt of yours" his hands squeezing my ass firmly and I giggled. He guided me to the wall kissing my neck and I gasped as I met the cold, wet tiles. One of his hands lift my thigh up and placed it around his hips „And the only one“ I put my arms around his neck, an open-mouthed kiss „who makes you moan like that“ he looked me straight in the eyes „is me.“ and he thrust into me.

Some time later we were both screaming. Not only because we reached our climax, the hot water that was available for us was empty and now it was as cold as ice, my head felt like it was on fire. We both jumped out of the shower and he threw the only bathrobe that was hanging next to it over „Thanks asshole“ I shivered from the cold and walked straight to the bed and slipped under the cover and Deacon followed, taking me inside of his bathrobe „Mhmm body heat“ he whispered and I giggled. We lay there like this for a few minutes until we reached a normal body temperature. „I think you healed me, we should take a shower more often together.“ he chuckled and I joined „I love you“ I said and clung myself closer to him. He put his arms around me holding me tight and kissed the back of my head before I fell asleep „I love you too.“.

[criticalfai1ure]

sebastian maximiliano rojas ends his last video log as the door to his bunk whooshes open for the final time to find him inside. he stands, bound hands clasped as if in prayer, and offers an awkward smile in greeting to his captain and the quartermaster behind her.

blue’s gaze is cold, detached, and he knows the crew’s decision without her needing to speak a word. a knife, his knife he realises, is dropped to the floor between their feet and he eyes it, curious. ❝ where did you find… ❞ max trails off, recognising the red on the blade for what it is. dark gaze flicks up to meet jay’s before returning to his knife. ❝ whose blood is that? ❞ there’s an edge of panic to his tone that he fights to swallow down. ❝ jay, whose blood is that? ❞

❝ stop, red. it’s over. ❞ the use of his nickname does not go unnoticed.

tabs pushes into the room she had shared with max and rob, sneering as she clips the industrial zip ties that had bound him. they are doing him a kindness, allowing him to don his red spacesuit — it is more than what he had given the imposter posing as rob. once he is secure in his suit, a new zip tie is procured, lashing his wrists together once more. the quartermaster exits, then, with a nod shared with her captain.

max stares at his old military dog tags hung on the wall his bed is built into. a set of rosary beads sit heavy in his pocket, taken from beneath his mira-issued pillow and hidden away before his argument with kane. they lend a comfort to him, ebbing and flowing with his emotions, a final gift from his mother ( he’ll be with her soon ). shoulders slump with a resignation before he tilts his head and straightens, facing jay again.

she steps aside and he nods, following into the corridor without protest so she can lead him from behind. as they pass admin, he falters and stops short, heart thumping in his throat as he turns his head to her. ❝ jay, ❞ he starts, and it is so soft, holding all the emotion he hadn’t allowed himself in the past.

❝ don’t, ❞ she stops him. her own voice breaking or, perhaps, already broken. she refuses to meet his eye. ❝ max called me that. so don’t you dare. i trusted him, trusted you, but now i am stuck. i am stuck in a place where i can’t even be sure how long you’ve been him. so maybe i’ve never actually trusted the right one. maybe i’ve never actually… ❞ she trails off but the silence hangs heavily between them.

he turns to the side, desperate for her to look him in his face. he needs her to see him, needs her to know – know what, rojas? ❝ i’m sorry, ❞ he whispers at the same time as he watches her steel herself to continue quietly with, ❝ – maybe i’d never actually loved the real max either. ❞ anything else he might’ve thought to say dies on his tongue, then, and he draws a shaky breath. he wants to say her name again, wants to throw himself at her feet in this corridor while it’s still just them. wants to beg and to plead and to cry out…

but he can’t.

he made this bed in which he now needs to lie and he swallows thickly around the heart stuck in his throat. it takes everything he has to keep his posture from folding, putting one foot in front of the other as he spirals in silence.

the doors to the storage bay swish open and tabitha is there, directly in his line of sight beside the airlock, holding his red helmet. jasper and monique stand to the side, moni squeezing jaz’s hand before moving to stand with ghosts. max is unsurprised to see kane is not in attendance, but something festers in his gut when he notices elias is missing as well.

he turns to jay again, brow furrowing with a question he doesn’t get the chance to ask. ❝ first mate rojas, ❞ she says, ❝ red, ❞ an amendment. ❝ for spacing robert myers, claiming he was an imposter with no known proof but your word against his after a violent argument over the dead body of hero robinson – as witnessed by tabitha marsk and ghosts frazier – the crew of the skeld have put forth a vote. ❞ she draws a steadying breath finally meeting his eye, ❝ for the safety of the crew, you are hereby sentenced to the same fate. ❞

he knew it was coming — how could it not? but it is still a knife to his heart. max starts to move toward jay but is intercepted, scuffling with tabs and his helmet, ❝ get off marsk. i can bloody well do it myself. ❞ he rips his arm from her and there is a struggle that ends with her elbow in his gut, leaving him almost breathless and he grunts in pain, doubling over as he staggers back.

he straightens, resolute, as jay draws another breath to reprimand them, wanting this to be done with but, before she gets the chance, max closes the distance between them. his lips press to hers wanting her to know everything he had never said, eyes squeezing shut to keep the world out — her hand comes to his chest as she kisses him back for half a second before her head catches up to her heart. she goes still. stiff. the crew protest around them but it’s max that pulls away, unaided, ❝ jay, ❞ he says and her name is as soft on his lips as hers had been for the breath of a moment. he remembers his mother’s rosary in his pocket, a prayer.

she walks him back to the airlock where tabs is waiting to take hold of him again. max tries to rip away from her a second time but is unsuccessful and tabs forces his arms out in front of him. ❝ — please, jay, ❞ panic is rising in him. this is his last chance to plead his case and he is fumbling for words, ❝ you know me. ❞ jaz holds the clippers out as tabs tosses the red helmet into the airlock, manoeuvring max the same way. jay has turned her back, stepping over to the controls, ready to close the doors as soon as tabitha and jasper are clear. ❝ don’t do this! ❞ his voice breaks, emotion sweeping over him in a crushing wave. jaz snaps the zip ties and tabs gives a hearty shove. max stumbles, crashing to his knees on the other side of the airlock chamber, the door clangs shut before he is able to recover.

from the safety of the storage area, the crew watch as their first mate struggles to click his helmet into place ; hands shaking, though whether it is anger or fear that truly courses through him, they dare not hazard a guess. a red fist pounds on the door but they cannot hear anything more than muffled banging. ghosts turns their head and moni and jasper squeeze hands again, the three filing out before blue presses the release.

she is looking at him now. again. and, for the last time, his gaze meets hers head-on. bluejay. his lips form the nickname. her eyes lower, locating the correct switch and returning to him in the space of a breath.

his eyes are closed ; a scream no one else can hear is torn from him as the vacuum of space rips him from the skeld.

red’s fear is lost in the wake of sabotaged comms.

back in navigation, jasper and moni take up their seats, steering the ship away. ghosts goes to find kane who had taken it upon themself to clean up elias’ blood, spilt from behind — murder by a coward.

only captain atlas remains in the storage bay, staring at the red dot that shrinks into black nothingness until she can see nothing but the stars he had loved so much.

[lord-vermin]

Oh shit I don’t think I’ve actually told this fucking story on here BUT (and this story is totally made up for many reasons) I ~accidentally~ kinda stole(?) a painting/tile worth iirc 15,000

So this was back at my old shop and basically it used to be an art gallery, the building was old as shit and I had a theory that the loft (attic) of the building connected to the other two buildings & my boss wanted me to store some furniture but we were so limited on space in this tiny fucking studio that I decided hey - I’m going to strategically break (gently rip it open) the door to the loft & see if we can get away with storing the furniture upstairs.

I get up there and it’s creepy as shit but my theory is true it’s HUGE up there & because it’s not the same building we can store stuff up there & hopefully the landlord won’t have a clue. But on my exploration into the world of black mould and asbestos I find these cardboard boxes filled with pictures, frames, tiles, etc.

(Fictional pictures to help your imagination)

& bc the building used to be a gallery up until the 80(?)s when the guy who owned the gallery passed away. I immediately start seeing what’s good - I decide ‘hey let’s not go crazy’ and I took 3 downstairs for people to look at.

Alas I only have pictures of the two that aren’t relevant to this story & not the third one which was the once that caused all the fucking trouble in the first place.

But I take them downstairs wayyy too eager to please my boss and I’m like “hey these are cool maybe we should put them on the wall?” I mostly just liked the one with the crows Ngl. We all agree they’d be good to fill some gaps on the wall and they go into a plastic bag on the floor while we all procrastinate on actually putting them up. Which turned out to be a fucking miracle.

So the landlord comes by and this is the first time in years he’s stopped by, first time I’ve ever seen the dude and he’s PISSED because SOMEONE broke into upstairs and has gone through all his paintings (no idea who that would be) and even worse some are missing. We own up to using it as a cheeky storage space which he says is fine. And I SOMEHOW had to look this man in the eye, with said paintings wrapped in a plastic bag on the floor in front of him and go “no clue mate sorry” while this painting shaped plastic bag sat on the floor in front of him. My boss decides he will keep the paintings because they’re his bc he pays the rent despite me saying maybe we should just put them back upstairs.

So the dude apparently reports the paintings as stolen & takes everything he had from upstairs and removes it. And my boss on a slow day tasks me with finding out what the fuck is up with these paintings and why this guy lost his shit. The first two paintings, the ones pictured above - worth £100 at a stretch. Valued at that but no one is buying. But the other one was this ceramic tile that I end up bringing to a gallery and I’m like “do you know anything about this” the guy immediately is like “oh my god where did you get this I haven’t seen one of these in forever” I lie. Just frantically making shit up as I’m starting to realise it’s probably been reported nicked and I’m getting it fucking checked out. And he tells me the artists name & some info and I get back to the studio and we do about 5 seconds of googling and this guys incredibly well known & his stuff goes for a lot. This piece was part of a set and some of the other pieces of the same set had been sold at auction for roughly 15,000. I am fucking mortified.

This is where the realisation that I’ve fucked up really starts to set in. We don’t want this anymore. We wrap it up in plastic & bubble wrap - put it in the store room and never speak of it. Kinda running off the logic of ‘it’s never left the building so it’s not stolen it’s just misplaced’

until one of the tat-artists who decided to secretly move studios steals a bunch of shit including the tile-painting-thing. But then he suffered a psychotic break and gave it to someone. So now it’s just out there somewhere??? The other two got put back up stairs into storage.

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Dark Prophecy: Chapter 2 (SPOILERS)

"Oh, look--a cheese ghost" A cheese ghost? This chapter is going to be delightful! Potential cheese ghost names: Brieanna, Cameronbert, Mozzarellen, Helenavarti, Chaddar

"a song from your combat ukulele?" He brought the combat ukulele with him? Considering how useless it was the first time without breaking the oath, why would he lug a heavy metal object with him on a dragon with limited storage space?

"nor feared my plague arrows." You managed to infect freaking air spirits inside an automaton with the plague. I'm sure you could wrench a cough or two out of these flesh-and-blood creatures. "Worst of all, they were humorless and unimaginative." This monster's unique trait: boring.

"More locals converged on our position." Are even the regularly-shaped people blemmyae? Do they just have small noses? How do they see?

"her ankle bent with a nasty pop." Wow, they're really sturdy. Is she just going to keep breaking each of her bones until she lands a hit?

"Back off, chest-face!" "Language, dear" Is chest-face considered a slur against them? Leo, apologize.

"if they hurt him" Leo, that's a giant metal dragon. How're they gonna do any real damage other than psychological? Wait, their skin is also tough as metal. Yeah, maybe worry.

"From the waist down, shaggy blond fur covered her body, not unlike a satyr." LOL they had to censor it! The Greek myths didn't say anything about fur.

"'Good morning!' A police officer appeared on our right, his firearm drawn. 'Halt or I will shoot! Thank you!'" There is an ACAB joke to be made here. The thank you seems more polite than your average policeman would probably offer if they just threatened your life, though.

"stoppered glass bottle" Looked it up. It means the bottle is closed by sticking a stopper in it that fits perfectly in the bottleneck, e.g. a cork or some equivalent.

"'Phew,' Leo said. 'I was hoping he was a blemmyae.'" Lmao he just took his chances hoping he didn't just kill a regular trigger-happy mortal

"I'd already convinced Leo to abandon his dragon. I didn't want to push my luck." Hahaha if not for Leo, would he seriously be considering abandoning Calypso? Also, please tell me we are not permanently leaving Festus behind. Festus still has to swallow both death and madness! Speaking of madness, is the Dodona screaming arrow with them?

"The apparition glowed with a faint ginger light." It's the cheese ghost! Hello, Brieanna! "Vaya con queso." Perfect. Follow the cheese.

"a truck fender spiraling toward us." FENDER (n.): the mudguard or area around the wheel well of a vehicle

"Leo pulled a staple gun from his tool belt." I read that without the "staple." Oops. "Our ghostly guide seemed to have disappeared." Oh yeah, they were supposed to be following Brieanna. What if he's leading them toward a Triumvirate building?

"Gosh darn it, dears, you've made me a bit miffed." I am ashamed to admit that these are all words I use in regular conversation. Never all together, of course. No, I'm not from Indiana.