#but I am stalling really

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

must be fall

#my art #eye contact #tw eye contact #scopophobia #scopohobia tw #furry #sfw furry #oc #let me know if i need to tw tag this more or give me the proper tags if im not using the right one!!! #i do not remember my oc tag bc when i went to look NOTHING would pop up . so maybe i'll edit this later and see #I HAVENT DONE ART FOR [ME] IN A REALLY LONG TIME which is why ive been working up to posting this AHBDFKU #BUT YEAH i am really happy with this. im having a fun time switching between the first sketch and the final product #im also eating a bag of blue raspberry sour patch kids like my life depends on it theyre so good #my hair is also getting pretty long i think and im debating on just letting it grow out or buzzing it again or a Short haircut #we'll see i'll probs figure out by the time october is over #ive been stalling the last 30 minutes to post this LMAO

[feuer-bluete]

No, listen this is so important to me.

When we kidnap Kieran he is of course tied to the tree. When he is finally freed he sleeps somewhere close to the horses.

When the gang moves to Clemen's Point, he is more relaxed in camp but still sleeps outside the camp, sitting against a tree, again close to the horses.

When the gang moves to Shady Bell, and Tilly is not rescued yet so Mary Beth is sitting in this spot, Kieran does not sleep at all, and instead he just stands next to Javier's tent staring into the night.

Once Tilly is rescued and all the girls, save Ms Grimshaw sleep inside, Kieran, finally, feels comfortable enough to sleep inside the circle of waggons, among the gang.

#rdr2 #kieran duffy #what do you mean its not normal to know exactly where which gang member sleeps in which camp #listen i am stalling certain missions and i started paying attention to the tent sharing rules in horseshoe overlook #and since than kept track #micah never sleeps btw #anyway kieran #poor lil kieran #he is finally comfortable enough to not sleep away from us #and you tell me i gotta go and get the quest line going that kills him #really? #REALLY? #rdr2 community #rdr #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 kieran #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption community

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

(Source - the ever resourceful, diligent, and lovely anonp0et. Original source from the wonderful juliabornkessel)

#sleep token #when i type lovely in my phone one of the suggested words after is anonp0et so...take that as you will #she's so sweet on twitter and always finds really amazing things! #and yes i am stalling a reaction but i thought this was neat too! #iv sleep token #why

[dragonseeds]

there’s a horrible sickness in me that makes me want to stop and replay da:i whenever i start a different game. how am i supposed to resist the story of my own unwilling apotheosis? especially as lavellan, who doesn’t believe in the maker and who has every right to hate and mistrust the chantry but chooses to use what power they have to try save people, to fix what’s broken, no matter how afraid they are or how careful they have to be. walking side by side with the great trickster god/adversary of your people without knowing, befriending him, changing his mind about this world but ultimately not his choice. he understands what’s happening to you because it happened to him once and he gives you his castle, built over the place where he sundered the world, and paints your story there in frescos that will last long after you’re gone and after the story has been retold and reshaped so many times that the truth of who you are and what you did is lost—just as he did his own story, which was lost and perverted by war and propaganda, and he shows all of this to you knowing you’ll understand because you’ve lived through something similar, grown into something larger than yourself and your true name, and it doesn’t change anything but. he wanted you to see him just for a moment, even if he can’t tell you everything (or almost anything) and you can’t save him—because he owes it to you as a someone who is a friend, almost an equal, and because there’s no one else left who knows: a direct result of what he did to your people and which he now seeks to undo at the cost of this world.

#dragon age #solas #literally i am ILL #i love religious trauma and stifling hypocrisy and walking carefully so carefully through a place i don’t belong but i’ve chosen to be #and questioning everything and losing and discovering myself over and over #and accidentally becoming friends with my work colleagues #and most importantly dating an actual god who is just a nerdy little guy who keeps fucking everything up #he’s such a liar but he wants to badly to tell the truth but he can’t he won’t #yet he only really lies through omission and speaks carefully so as not to give himself away #ok and also he very much wanted the anchor and manipulated that whole situation #but he also shows you who he is and tells you a sliver of the truth #and he didn’t have to do that! but he chose to—he wants you to see him and on some level to save him from his path i think #also i debated sooo long about the phrasing ‘almost an equal’ because i think he does consider everyone as worthy of life & choice as him! #but ultimately he is making the decisions of a god whether or not he acknowledges himself as one #he is deciding for a whole world—so i think there’s some cognitive dissonance there #and i went with almost #i’m fr stalled out in the middle of bg3 like i miss solas i miss my work friends

[rexbalistidae]

Hi autistic woman.

#sillyposting #clone high #candide sampson #tophabe slander #shitpost #I’m still stalling on that art #I think it’s too niche idk #yeah this is my drawing of a headcanon #branched off into an alternate timeline #that no one really wants except for me #yes i am autistic #if you couldn’t tell by literally anything I post #and all of my ocs and characters I like are too #I don’t make the rules

[respectthepetty]

BUT I think we should all stand and applaud the fact that the “oh no Boss Daddy Jeng is Stressed and must intensify a Work out to get through these feelings scene” was NOT left on the cutting room floor.

Blessed be the editors. Knighthoods. The lot of them.

I do appreciate the editors for being like "Pat's parents talking? Cut. Ae going into labor? Cut. Pat and Jeng talking to their friends? CUT! Jeng working out? Mmmm. . . it has narrative value. Keep."

Because his back and those grunts were definitely giving me a whole story.

Also, in my family, when people are upset, they either deep clean or aggressively work out, while I open a bottle of wine and plot murder, so good for Jeng being a well-balanced man and finding beneficial ways to deal with his anxiety and stress. Beneficial for him AND for us.

Please let Man get more roles, so I can continue to objectify admire him.

Amen.

#step by step #step by step the series #man trisanu #this is what happens when an age appropriate tree is cast in a suitable role #the editors are even making wild decisions #every day I love women so much that I think “am I really bisexual?” #then Man came along and I was like “yep‚ still very a much bisexual slut” #Pat's story could not be my story because if Jeng said he liked me #bathroom stall in the club IMMEDIATELY! #I wouldn't give Jeng time to take it back or to rethink it

[sasster]

Made It Out Alive

So there I was, on the train ride home from class, and I thought.. Man. I’m gonna write something really indulgent. Hope you guys like it as much as I do! [Doc] —

Turning from the stove to the counter, with a knife and cutting board in hand, Lopard comes face to face with a jade blooded nuisance who smiles back at him from his seated position upon it.

The orange blood rolls his eyes.

“Get your ass off of my counter if you want to keep it.” He warns, waving the knife in the air for emphasis.

“Two problems with that, chief,” the nuisance starts, despite jumping off the counter with an ‘oof’ when his feet hit the ground. “S’not your counter and that’s a stupid threat.”

Once again Lopard rolls his eyes, but happy that there would no longer be an ass where he plans to chop vegetables, he carries on his prepwork.

“I’m sure Areios doesn’t want your ass on his counter either. Make yourself useful and—”

Before the command even leaves his mouth, Demuye is already behind him setting some pots to boil and pulling seasonings from cabinets.

“Yeah, yeah, on it boss man.” He says with a smile he doesn’t bother fighting.

Just as the pair are getting into the groove of cooking together, the owner of the hive paces his way into the kitchen with large, frantic steps that would shake the foundation of a less secure building, worrying the front of his shirt between two very anxious hands. Lopard barely gets to open his mouth before his much smaller “babysitter” comes toddling in behind him, on legs much too short to keep up with the exaggerated gait of the behemoth.

Thuein pauses to catch his breath, resting both hands on his thighs as he heaves.

“Running a marathon?” Demuye questions with ill-contained humor, only to receive a sharp look from the therapist in response.

Areios paces his way to the far end of the kitchen and stares at the undecorated stone for several seconds as silence overtakes the kitchen. His three guests exchange worried glances with each other.

Slowly, unable to be serious for too long, Demuye raises a hand and presses his index finger to the tip of his nose.

Thuein copies the motion.

For the third time in such a short stretch, Lopard finds himself rolling his eyes.

“Alright big guy,” He says as he wipes his hands clean on a dish towel. “What’s eating at you so bad that our best and brightest can’t help you keep it together?”

Truthfully, his annoyance with Demuye and Thuein doesn’t last long. It is barely a fizzle before it dies out on its own, really. As the oldest of this portion of their inner circle, he’d been used to wrangling everyone in for some time now. A part of him thrives on it, if he had to be honest with himself.

Areios lets his shoulders slump forward, too prideful maybe to face his friends as he speaks. “Do you think he’s actually going to come?” He finally asks, after his own silence becomes too much for even him to stand.

Once again the three exchange looks that the behemoth can’t see. Demuye seems annoyed at the notion, indicated by him sucking his teeth, Thuein only frowns, and Lopard lets out a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think he’d lie about something like that.”

Areios inhales sharply and exhales in a way that suggests he wishes, right now at least, that he was smaller than he is.

“What if he gets here and realizes he hates me as much as--”

“Ah,” Lopard interjects, holding up a hand that the other party cannot see but heeds regardless. “I’m not entertaining that sort of talk. He’s going to come and we’re going to have a great time. Just like we always do.”

The orange blood crosses the kitchen and pats Areios on the back.

“I’d beat his ass otherwise.” He offers and gets a laugh out of the purple blood.

“Imagine the emotional toll that’d take on you.”

“Smashing those guys is like second nature to me. Now get out before I put the pair of you to work.”

Demuye emphasizes Lopard’s point by slamming a pot onto the counter and Areios laughs again, putting up both hands, as he and Thuein leave the way they came.

Thuein mouths a ‘thank you’ to Lopard on the way out.

“We really don’t pay you enough.” Bemoans a more than humored Demuye, shaking his head, while Lopard returns to his post.

“Yeah, I’ll have to garnish it from somewhere.”

“If you touch my check, and I mean this so seriously, I’ll skin you.”

—

Later the hive is alive with chatter, the way it used to be when Areios housed most or all of the current guests in their respective times of need. The intoxicating bouquet of Lopard’s cooking carries from the kitchen to the large front room that most of the trolls occupied.

His chest swells with pride each time someone so much as compliments the smell of the goods. It is nice knowing that his hard work is appreciated, after all. Soon the smell will be overshadowed by someone else's, probably Achina’s, baking skills. But for now, the pride was all his.

Lopard plops, exhausted, on a couch between the host and a violet blooded sailor who the pair have not seen in countless sweeps, waving a three fingers hand around as he exposits what’d happened to him in those sweeps.

“It hasn’t been all that crazy,” Velrum concludes, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner that suggests he was merely describing a shopping trip and not a literal odyssey. “I was on the sea. That’s where I came from, so it wasn’t awful.” He lets his good fin flair for emphasis.

Lanaen, seated in a chair across from them, scoffs.

“Were your more stuck-up personality traits concussed out of you, then?”

“Quite possibly. And yours?”

“Oh, no. He’s still very much a dick.” Lopard chimes in before Lanaen can defend himself, and the four of them enjoy a good laugh at the fuchsia’s expense.

It has always been too long since the last time they gathered everyone together like this and the hive itself is practically a flutter with it’s own life.

Lopard chances a glance to a corner of the living room occupied by Zurven, of all people, signing away in a conversation with Isnons who appears to have turned off his hearing aid for the evening.

Each of the pair jumped at the chance when they heard that the other would definitely be in attendance, masterful trickery executed by Thuein and Achina, who were convinced neither would come otherwise.

From what he can make out from his bout of eavesdropping Isnons just wrote his first book and Zurven’s gotta get his hands on it.

He smiles to himself, satisfied that he would not have to field any angry partners  for a botched night out. He hardly notices when Velrum and Lanaen leave the room, absorbed in yet another conversation.

This one possibly about the former’s missing fingers.

“See, we’re having fun.” Lopard nudges a shoulder up against Areios as he speaks. “Regardless.”

“Yeah. It’s always nice having everyone back together. Makes the hive feel less lonely.”

“I think that’s called empty nest syndrome.”

“Look at me, your sad mama bird.”

Lopard only laughs and nudges him again.

Very suddenly, Holoth appears in their space, beaming despite the way sleepiness decorates her features.

“Does that mean I can call you mommy?” She inquires, brightly.

“Please don’t.”

“C’mon guys, I brought something you need to see.” She quickly pivots, seizing Areios by the arm and giving him a tug that actually pulls him to his feet.

Nonplussed, he follows her lead with Lopard bringing up the rear.

Holoth leads the two of them outside, away from the excitement of the hive and closer to the cliff that overlooks the sea. It does not take long for Lopard to recognize the form of a troll pacing back and forth at the end of it, but he is certain that Areios cannot make it out, what with his deteriorating eyesight and all.

He turns his surprise on Holoth who only winks back at him. Then she trudges forward with the giant in tow until he and the pacing figure stop short, staring at each other.

Briefly, Lopard thinks that it was very wise of her to not bring him inside for this reunion. He would never tell her the thought, lest everyone have to reckon with her ego for the foreseeable future.

She gives Areios a shove and he continues the rest of the way on his own, where he and the newcomer continue to stare at each other in stunned silence.

What must be running through their heads right now?

“Areios, I’m so sorry I--”

The full apology dies in the doctor’s throat when  Areios, unable to contain himself, wraps him up in his arms and crushes him into his chest.

“I missed you so much, Aelium.”

#yes it IS 9am but i can’t contain myself any longer #long post #<3 <3<3 #my babies!!! #trust there are more of them somewhere in the hive… but i couldn’t possibly include like achina and #nhomos and vitius and parcae and etc etc without running my brain ragged #lopard #demuye #thuein #areios #achina #velrum #lanaen #holly #im really only tagging the guys who got speaking parts because #zurven and isnons are there and whatever but you really only get the gist of their conversation #am i stalling? #yeah #aelium #this is for me but i really want other people to like it too you must understand #coko writes sometimes

[somecunttookmyurl]

Sorry to just drop into this, but another thing to consider with handmade good and the ‘overpriced’ idea is that you also have to factor in how much stock might sell at any given time.

For example, if you make 100 pairs of earrings in a month but might only sell 30 (because you need to give people options etc.) then the profit from those 30 should reasonably cover the time you spent making all 100.

Also, it should pay for the time you spend at craft fairs, replying to any commissions/ purchase requests, packaging time and going to the post office, any online marketing you might do (tumblr posts etc).

Peolle don’t often factor these in when thinking about the value of crafts they buy, which is a bit unfair.

yes there are other overheads but the thing is. basically all of those to some extent also apply to fibre arts

but sure. to be thorough. i spend 10h a week at my market stall and an hour... let's say 2 be generous with it... updating the shop

if i made 50 pairs of earrings and sold 15, the "materials" cost of 1 pair, to cover their unsold breathren, goes from 42p to £1.40

earrings are far from the only thing though, and account for less than half of the sales. so. we can say that about 5h of stall/shop time is covered by those

(plus the hour it took to make them)

sale price - materials cost but split over 6 hours of labour instead of 1.5 is still £12 an hour

#but then. i don't charge for the time organising crochet commissions either #so even charging for labour on jewellery that i DON'T charge for in fibre arts #and more than triple the material cost #which really is fudging the numbers as much as possible in one direction to try and even them out #i can get it down to oh. just over double the hourly rate for crochet #the reason i dont charge for that labour in fibre arts is bc it's expensive enough as is #the reason i dont count 'market time' as paid labour for the other stuff is bc i am doing the exact same thing i would be at home #(making stuff and talking shit) #but downstairs instead of up here #it's a 5h craft hang but occasionally someone hands you money #which i think is a lot of the reason most [makers] dont count it #especially if it's a regular stall setup like mine and not a one-off craft fair #there's no set up/take it down again time it just stays there #i walk downstairs i make jewellery with my friends for 5h and then i go back upstairs again #(hell quite honestly me and babs dont count the money we spend on supplies for the simple reason of We Would Be Buying Them Anyway) #crafting is a disease with no known cure

[midnightexists]

Idk if this counts as dash commentary or not considering this is about on my dash on my other account but.

Holy shit.

#CAN PEOPLE BE NORMAL. WHY CAN'T PEOPLE BE NORMAL ABOUT OBVIOUSLY PLATONIC FRIENDSHIPS. #I am so annoyed about this right now like. COME ON THEY SEE EACH OTHER AS *BROTHERS* #IS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO NOT BE FUCKIN WEIRD???? #the ramblings of midnight #holy shit it's atlas psn-stalling

[itstheheebiejeebies]

As good as the finale was I am still left in serious want for more storyline for the Tuskegee Airmen because wow they really got a quarter of an episode in ep8 and maybe 3 lines in this ep and we're supposed to be good?

We really should have had scenes with them across more episodes, and gotten at least a fraction of their story because the way they were shown really showed almost nothing

#there's also plenty of other issues #i saw someone talk much better about the jewish rep scenes we got in this ep than i ever could #but i was very uncomfortable with solomon being the one to help that nazi up #it was just unnecessary #like even if it was accurate it really felt out of place and bad #and im not the one to talk in depth about the tuskeegees either #that's not my place #but i am sincerely dissapointed because they featured heavily in the advertisements #and it feels wrong that they got advertised like their stories would be told when they didn't really do more than show a page of their stor #like i loved so much of the series #but it needed to be longer and it needed to cut C plots to benefit B plots #and they could have done more to do a perspective swap at various times more #so we wouldn't get stalled so much with the nothing going on at the pow camp so often and instead met any of the new guys after e5 really #dana rambles #mota #masters of the air #mota spoilers

[luminousnotmatter]

This Close

a little j.h.s. something

pairing: My favorite Texan Naval aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female...Reader? OC? She’s kind of both? I’ll explain more in the Author’s Note. 😜 warnings: Mutual pining. Yearny. Friends with feelings they’re not acknowledging. PG-level swears. Takes place in a bar that’s not The Hard Deck. There’s a Dean Martin song used.😜  word count: a little over 1k. author’s note: This is my first bit of writing shared in a good long while, and also my first bit of writing for Top Gun Maverick since that movie happened to me this year. Be gentle please I’m nervous???? 😨😱 This story is actually part of a moment I have in mind for a whole, longer, multi-parted story that’s currently simmering on the stovetop of my brain until I can figure it out more/work up the nerve to plot it out and start writing and sharing it involving Jake and a Lady OC who I’m also still developing. Hence she, ‘Birdy’ a nickname she’s referred to as once here ☺, is sort of straddling the Reader/OC line at the moment. I honestly prefer writing this way than in the second person; it’s easier for me and I find I like the way things flow and feel better, so hopefully y’all don’t mind it. Okay. I’ve officially rambled w a y too much so I’m shutting my cakehole now. 🤐 I sincerely hope it pleases you! 💕❤ bonus material: This is the song that’s playing in the bar in case you want to listen in on Jake and Birdy’s dance.  It’s not a love song really, but I love it and find there is a certain sweet, romance to it. But then again, I’m a known Sap, so form your own opinion. 😉 tagging: My Sweet B.💗 ‘cause she’s a dear, inspiring, and encouraging gem of a lady, whom I love. @bradshawsbaby​

"The sun is sinking in the west the cattle go down to the stream the redwing settles in her nest it's time for a cowboy to dream..."

With the first few lines of the song and Dean Martin's signature croon, the energy and volume in the crowded bar immediately shifts, lowering from it's previous loud, buzzing intensity to a quieter, pleasant hum. A few of the dancing couples rearrange themselves into new pairs, but most stay with their current partners.

  Jake's green eyes glow warm. His lips are still upturned in a gentler, one-sided version of his familiar wide and sunshiney smile, as his gaze sweeps around the space casually, before meeting hers.

"Shall we?" he quirks an eyebrow up. Speaks only loudly enough for her to hear. His left hand remains loosely entwined with her right, leftover from the previous, faster dance, but he's inviting her to join him for this one, not assuming she wants to. A gentleman's gesture.

And some might argue against it: but she knows, believes, has seen, that Jacob Seresin is a gentleman, in the truest sense of the word. He just....buries that part of himself, walls it up, far too often.

She tightens her grip on his hand. Let's herself notice, secretly relish, the roughness of his calloused fingers and palm. And the skipping jolt it sends to her heart. "Let's." and a smiling nod is her only response.

“Purple lights in the canyons That's where I long to be With my three good companions Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

They step in close to one another once more, less than a foot of space between them. It's not really different than what they had been doing a minute or so ago, albiet slower, but the feeling, the energy between them has changed, just as it has for the place as a whole.

  It's not necessarily an unpleasant change.

Jake's right hand holds her waist with a sort of tentative firmness, the heat of his palm bleeds through the material of her dress to her skin. His left hand has raised her right while they sway and take small steps in time with the music.

At first she looks everywhere but at her partner's face. Gaze sweeping around the room at the other couples, the lights above the bar, patrons' abandoned drinks....

She's exposed, raw, hyper-aware of the pounding of her heart against her ribs, of how hot her cheeks are, of the inherent intimacy there is in this slow closeness, and somehow it seems that if she looks in Jake's eyes it will be a tacit acknowledgement of the Truth she's currently refusing to actively acknowledge: that she likes this. Likes him. This man is her friend (becoming one of her favorite, best ones), so of course she likes him, and she is comfortable with him, as a woman and as his friend, but that Truth? What it actually means deep down? It's a damn frightening thing to look at head-on.

All these sensations and thoughts scramble through her heart and brain in milliseconds.

“Gonna hang my sombrero, On the limb of a tree Comin' home, sweetheart darlin' Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

The sound of the Naval Lieutenant humming the tune of the song near her ear draws her eyes back to him, almost against her will, but not actually. He's looking around too at first, but quickly meets her eyeline with a gentle widening of his smile.

  "You know this song?" she asks with a smile of her own; she knows this tune well but wouldn't have guessed he did. It brings an ache of fondness to her chest that he does.

"Mm-hm." he nods and grins fully with his mouth closed. His nose scrunches up once, barely perceptible but she catches it. The skin around his eyes crinkles and her chest is hurting again.

  She drops her gaze for just a moment, trying to think of something to say. The silence isn't uncomfortable, it's just that she likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way he talks to her. But when her eyes catch the sheen of sweat on his skin over the hollow of his throat, they fly back up. Immediately.

  Jake is still looking at her. His look is so very unguarded (her heart whispers the word: tender) it sends any thought of words out of her mind. His pink mouth is still smiling, but it too is a smaller, softer, a more intentional, meaningful thing.

“Whippoorwill in the willow Sings a sweet melody Ridin' to Amarillo Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

He breathes out the quietest, whispered, "Hey, Birdy."

Her throat is tight with some unexpressed, still-ignored emotion but she's able to whisper back, "Hey, Jay."

Jake gives her hand two squeezes in quick succession.

“No more cows to be ropin’ No more strays will I see Round the bend, she'll be waitin' For my rifle, my pony, and me My rifle, my pony, and me...”

Someone in the crowd calls for the song to please be played again, just once more. Their request is granted.

She swallows hard. Jake's lashes are long and his eyes are so green and the unguarded, tender look in them is still there. He is no longer smiling, just looking; his expression still soft, open.  He's not only looking at her but seeing her. The rosy, ruddy glow to his cheeks and the firmness of him beneath her hand that cups his back, all shout of the health, vitality, alive-ness of him.

It's a fight to think of other things besides her desire to lean all the way into his chest.

I wanna give up that fight.  For right now: I can give up. I give up. she thinks to herself. With a finality and resolve to which she grasps tightly.

Before anxiety and self-doubt and outright fear can question and crumble that resolve she does it.

She takes the half-step in, tucking her left hand between their two bodies up by her face and rests her cheek to his t-shirt covered chest, right below his left clavicle. She allows any tension to bleed from her shoulders, her neck, her arms, and lets him hold her.

Just for the rest of the song, she tells herself.

As he curls his right arm all the way round her back, Jake holds his next inhale at its peak for a quick extra second or two, then lets it out evenly, once she relaxes fully against him. She can't see his face of course, but he feels like even his blinking is slow, and careful. She's never been quite this close to him before now.  And he's never....he's not sure he has ever allowed himself to consider that he's wanted her to be...but his deep-down self is realizing: he has. Damn.

He shakes that realization and its implications off for the moment. It doesn't have to be dealt with right now.

  Just enjoy the rest of the song, Seresin, he tells himself. Rests his cheek gently against her head. Holds her.

They sway and take small steps, to and fro, to and fro, until the song does...eventually...unfortunately....end.

#Jake 'Hangman' Seresin #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader #Top Gun Maverick Fanfic #Hangman x Reader #Top Gun Maverick #I Wrote This #*sets this down gingerly. looks at it a moment. runs away to hide behind a bush and watch* #I cannot lie I love this very much and am really proud of it bUT I AM ALSO RIDOIKULOUSLY NERVOUS #'CAUSE LIKE I SAID IT'S BEEN A MINUTE SINCE I'VE SHARED MY WORD BABBLINGS #AND THERE ARE S O M A N Y AMAZINGLY TALENTED HUMANS IN THIS COMMUNITY OF FANS OF THIS FILM #THAT IT'S EASY TO BE INTIMIDATED #I NEED TO STOP STALLING-WHOOPS I MEAN YELLING- AND JUST CLICK 'POST' NOW DON'T I? #Me @ myself: yeah you do Kid. OKAYOKAYOKAY here goes. #Please tell me what you think!! 💕💕💕 #Sometimes I Art #<- because I made the moodboard and I want it in my art tag ^u^

[summertimemusician]

*through gritted teeth, looking like I've gotten into a fistfight with Demise and lost miserably, with as much grace as a feral raccoon* If Legend could put up with 15 adventures then you can do this. If Sky and Time could fight a god each and win then you can do this, if Wild could escape death and reforge his identity from scratch plus everything else in TOTK then you can do this-

But by the gods will it be a headache.

#personal #technically lu adjacent? #this by the way being my country's version of SATs by the way #been stalling doing them for a year and now the anxiety from bad security caught up to me #after I take a nice long nap if I survive this y'all are definitely getting some of the other late Linktober prompts and maybe a series? #plus essays on my thoughts on Zelda lore #haha jk #Not really tho #some may be x reader others will not we'll see #May I just be catastrophizing due to constant sleep deprivation #Also go read the TP Manga folks #I am once again pitching you to go read the Zelda Mangas because Four Swords TP and OoT are bangers

[justalittlebluetiefling]

After like, 2 months of not writing because I didn’t have the motivation, I knocked out 30k words in 3 days, so I’m feeling pretty good. 

#personal #i may have stalled my progress lmao i just started reading another old wip and i was like #oh wait i was really into this am i into this one again??? #anyway i love my partner but him being out of town for work gives me SO much uninterrupted time to write #moving into a house is going to be so good for me i do think having an office of my own will give me so much more time to write

[iturbide]

Mangakakalot has pretty good English translations of the Engage manga if you don't know where to read it! (they haven't posted chapter 14 as of this ask though)

THANK YOU FOR THE TIP now I just need to actually catch up on the rest of my reading list that's been languishing for the past month oops

#answered #bluescreenli #i have six books out from the library right now #and am stalled on them #in part because the one i'm partway through just #really /really/ isn't doing it for me #but it's not offensive enough to me to call it quits yet #mostly it's just frustrating with how the characters interact #and i'm hoping it will get better #but that requires slogging through more of it #which i have not been able to force myself to do for a while

[lem-argentum]

i barely use gil for anything in ff.xiv and then you let me on the market board and i lose 200k in one go

#lem liveblogs #xivposting #I STARTED PUTTING TOGETHER RUDY’S APARTMENT AND PEOPLE SELL FURNITURE WHICH IS A LOT EASIER THAN CRAFTING IT MYSELF SOOO. WELL. #don’t worry it’s going to be really cute it’s a worthwhile expense . <3 #i am in fact stalling from the msq…... BECAUSE I KNOWWW THEY’RE LEADING UP TO SOME BIG EMOTIONAL SEQUENCE AND MY HEART IS WEAK. #but i will continue in a little. efnzjnfnd <333

[gingericywolf]

Camp cretaceous campers Birthdays Thougths/Headcanons:

more vibes only

[Brooklynn]

Sammy:

I may be influenced by something, but I see her and I think pumpkin. I think orange. Just like Brooklynn is September, Sammy is fall, autumn, crinkling leaves in a pile and the happiness of jumping in them, big hugs, she is the warmth of the first warm chocolates (again, thinking of how october used to be, not how it is now, really fucking warm but even the really fucking warm october fits sammy's warmth). SO. With this vibe, my birthday for her is in October, so the good thing is she is not missing her Quinceañera!! She can have it with all of the camp fam invited (and yaz helping her choose a dress!! girlfriends!!)

--

[Ben]

#sammy gutierrez #jwcc #camp cretaceous #jurassic world: camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous headcanons #jwcc birthday headcanons #camp cretaceous birthdays #idk maybe is the orange orange orange moment influencing me #and the orange flashbacks... is this all yaz's fault? #like I noticed in darius flashback there are sunflowers and I've always subconciosly associated darius with sunflowers #I do not have much else to add I've got emotional enough on brooklynn post #ben is either going to be real short and straigthforward or really long because i love and relate to him a lot #also a lot of country vibes I get from her ofc. long horse rides cantering in the fields #cow herding and such #life that i love #i am actually very jealous of her. she has a family that loves her and the life I dream of #I want to be a stall boy. i don't care if I have to shovel horse poop everyday