#the impetus for all of this

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

#writeblr #warm up #my dad was actively doing bad shit to us and we STILL were told we were lucky . and to a point i do think im lucky #i just think also there's somethin to be said about like. how about we stop using comparison to dismiss ppls individual struggles #yes there are people who have no perspective. for the reference tho having perspective actually made me really unwilling to get help #for what was a serious and debilitating mental health issue. bc i thought i didnt DESERVE IT #and i would rather have 600 ppl who aren't THAT bad get help and get heard and get seen #than make any 1 kid. do the math that i did: look at the world that is dying and the people who are hurting and say #''oh. okay. others have it worse. they are probably better people than i am. i am being unreasonable. i cannot ask for help #i am not good. i am taking too much space. i am not worth saving.'' #bc our WHOLE lives we are taught a scarcity mindset - that you can 'steal' from someone. so that instead of changing a system that doesn't #actually offer fair support to everyone #we put the impetus on the individual to just... demand less. #and here's something - there are probably ppl who think i DIDNT deserve to get help #bc i DID have it better than other people #and something about that is ... so sickening. bc i think all of us in some way at some point WILL need help. #we were supposed to make communities. we were supposed to offer our hands. we were supposed to raise the barn #instead we said: it could be worse. now handle it yourself

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

It’s just that Fingon’s like that stereotypical son who calls his mum and walks old ladies across the street, mows the lawn for his neighbours, brings home nice, pretty girls who want to be kindergarten teachers or something and is really passionate about some niche compassionate topic like children in poverty’s access to multiple sclerosis treatment and who everyone says is ‘such a nice boy’ but then he goes and dates the eldest kid of Mr. Stay Away From My Boys, Son, a flaming ginger who most people haven’t heard speak. And this is hilarious.

#Aredhel was too wayward and Turgon was too autistic and argon was too impetuous but fingon was all golden boy so this blew everyone’s minds #Imagine feanor being so opposed until he realises everyone else thinks Maedhros isn’t good enough for finno and then pushing it so hard #Ugh anywa I’m just ranting #But the way they fit into the Torino social structure is important to me #Because Fingolfin’s family was #like #for the people #And feanor was this aloof untouchable presence who wasn’t there half the time #Also his sons are intimidating and scarily pale #Except for the one who always blushes? Anyway #The fanfiction thoughts are circling again time for a fic about russingon set from literally everyone’s perspective but theirs #God Alexis stop tagging #silm #silmarillion #the silmarillion #the silm fandom #silm fandom #the silm #tolkien #silm shitpost #maedhros #fingon #Russingon #silm veryshitpost #maitimo #maitimo nelyafinwe #findekano #Russandol #Tw rant

[essektheylyss]

LISTEN TO MIDST

#there was no real impetus to this I just think it constantly and thought this was funny #at all times my brain is just 'listen to midst' #midst podcast #for all of the midst stans' propaganda needs

[caeslxys]

also on the topic of meaningful consequences re: character death I don't understand the take that death in fantasy requires physical permanency to matter or give a story "stakes". death is permanent regardless. Do you really think that if they get her back, they'll just go back to normal? That these characters are not forever fundamentally changed from this, that Laudna will not be fundamentally changed from this?

That Imogen's world will be less fractured, that she won't be even more of an anxious wreck now that what she stands to lose has been put into vivid clarity? That Orym won't still carry the guilt of being the chosen, that he will be less haunted by the connections he drew to his own grief with Will to Imogen's with Laudna? That Fearne won't look at Laudna and think of that coin flip, of her choice, and what that means for her and how she loves? That FCG and Ashton won't think to this and be reminded of the people they've hurt or been hurt by, and what this effort and what this grief means for how they view the hells?

That Laudna, who has been so blasé about life and if she's alive and what being alive even means for someone like her, won't wake up surrounded by family and by love and be driven to reexamine everything she's taught herself in 28 years of isolation to cope with the trauma of Whitestone? That this, maybe, will be the driving force she needed to realize that there are things she wants to live for?

It might be that I'm just biased, but I'm not sure what stakes Laudna perma-dying adds aside from just presenting the characters with the knowledge they all already have that they can, in fact, die. that what they're up against is incomprehensibly powerful and dangerous. The stakes already feel so impossibly high when you think of what and who they are preparing to face. frankly the aftermath of this combat alone, even if everything had gone perfect and everyone had gotten back up a-okay, would have set that tone.

I don't know, regardless I'll be happy to watch whatever story they choose to tell unfold as it does, but it strikes me that so many people seem to think that death only matters if there is a physical absence.

#critical role #laudna #bells hells #I do want to specify though that this is my own interpretation of the situation from my view as a writer of the narrative #and my own interpretation of the situation as an audience member #I know death does not care for narration in real life and that dnd can be cathartic for those very reasons #that. to me. is a separate argument from what I'm trying to say here #I also have Thoughts about how. narratively. laudna coming back is the better story for Specifically bells hells and how they operate #individually and as a unit #and how I think a lot of people are blinded by the specific way molly effected the mighty nein #and I just do not think this is the same scenario At All #and also. if I may put out a more biased take. I don't necessarily Want the same impetus and the same story Again #this is bells hells! I want theirs! and they want to bring back laudna #also. like. the whole death only matters if it's permanent thing falls apart immediately bc like. it's laudna #y'know. the undead one. is her story lesser for having lived? is vox machina's? #anyway feel free to ignore this I'm just throwing thoughts out into the wind bc if I keep them in my brain I'll implode #and Twitter has a 140 character limit and I am long-winded

[textfromthelookout]

Did you hear of the news?

I have. :(

Everyone else has their tributes so, here, a summary of my experience with Dragon Ball.

I was in fourth grade art class. A kid had the February 2005 issue of Shonen Jump, back when Shonen Jump was still physically printed here. I recognized Atem on the front cover because the Blockbuster around the corner from our house had DVDs (I think they were DVDs and not VHSs then since I distinctly remember it having a menu and special features) of some of the later episodes of Duelist Kingdom and my brother and I watched them on repeat. So I was like oh, hey, what's this? They make books of that stuff? I don't remember the conversation but the kid ended up giving me that issue, and I took it home with me.

There were a LOT of significant, groundwork things happening in that issue, now that I think about it. We were just beginning to see Sanji truly in action against Pearl. The Dark Tournament was in it's early stages still with Roto fucking around and finding out against Kurama. Sakura shears off her hair in a move that rearranged sexualities the world over. The reason Atem was on the cover was because Yu-Gi-Oh Millennium World was just debuting its first and second chapter. Bleach wasn't even serialized yet. And Dragon Ball, of course, was also there, about a hundred and fifty chapters ahead of everybody else.

Keep in mind that this was my first experience with manga, period. So my very first experience with Dragon Ball opened on this:

and ended on this:

Yeah. Truth be told, at the time Yu Yu Hakusho piqued my interest more than Dragon Ball (a guy fighting with plants? how creative!) but I never did forget these chapters. I thought the art style was so different from the others.

At some point after this, probably between several months and a year and a half, the TV happened to be on one evening when Toonami was airing Dragon Ball Z. Oh hey, I said, I recognize that art, I know those characters. So I hung around and watched some of episode 281. Two things about watching that episode stick with absolute crystal clarity in my mind to this day. Firstly: Buu choking Vegeta out with his arm freaked me the FUCK out as a child. I could not tell you why I had a fear reaction to it but hey, there you go. The second is this:

Specifically I remember 'You died once. If anything happens to you now, you won't exist anymore. There'll be nothing I can do to bring you back.' Not precisely word for word over the years, but Schemmel's tone of voice on this particular lineread. If I had to guess I'd say it was because at that point in my life, uh, death was kinda permanent? So wait, what do you mean died ONCE. Doesn't that apply to everyone?

This still wasn't enough to get me super invested in it though, it just didn't seem like something that would appeal to me that much. So a couple years go by, I don't think about it all that much, and then of course, TFS hits the scene and drops DBZ Abridged. So you know. As a shithead middle schooler with a shithead sense of humor I thought it was the best damn thing since sliced bread. (My biggest character flaw is that I still think a lot of Season 1 is genuinely funny)

And that was really the extent of my interaction with the franchise for the next several years. Say what you will about DBZA but they did manage to put it all together such that someone who had a nonexistent concept of what the original context was could grok it with not a lot of effort. Some time in high school, I think I was around 15, I decided to bite the bullet and read all the manga, as much to increase the funny factor of DBZA as sheerly for the sake of being able to say I had. Stick it to the other weebs, y'know. Now they can't say I didn't know anything about good anime. This was unfortunately at a time when all that was available online were dirty poor-quality scans and questionable translations, but read it I did. I went 'yep, that sure is about what I expected', and proceeded to get on with my life. GT came and went, I looked up and saw Battle of Gods coming out and went 'oh hey that's still a thing huh', kinda was peripherally aware of all the divisiveness of Super as it was happening, didn't really pay it much attention, just stuck to DBZA and quite a lot of wiki-ing.

And then, this time of year about three years ago now, in the middle of conversation with @prophecydungeon, Dragon Ball somehow came up. Something to do with 'Even though I'm not hugely into DBZ's story or whatever Toriyama does have some great character designs' (yes I was referring to Vegeta and Future Trunks at the time, no i will not stop being predictable, yes i am a parody of myself). They eventually brought up the DBS Broly movie and said, and i quote: 'that was a solid 1.5h of unbelievably fun and wacky animation'. Having seen the Gogeta vs Broly part of it on twitter and been like 'damn that animation's kinda off the hook actually, good for them good for them', my response was to be like. Oh word? I've got a spare hour and a half to kill, sure, fuck it, why not, time to watch DBS Broly.

I think that movie was precision crafted to hit me in the hyperfixation, if we're being honest. Opening on a solid 20 minutes of Lore and Worldbuilding and then having most of the rest of the runtime being mindless slobberknocker fun by way of some of the hardest animation flexes ever? I was done for.

In summation. I have been aware of Dragon Ball for a lot of my life, in that its presence was pervasive and enduring as I grew up. I may have been late to the game of actually wholeheartedly enjoying it, but enjoy it I do. Dragon Ball is the roots of a vast tree of anime, and in reading it I began to understand why that is. I respect it for that, and I love it for that. My current fixation may have shifted, but as far as time devoted to one individual thing goes... it took me a year and a half to watch my way through all of the anime and read all of the manga. ALL of it. So there's something good in there, I'd say.

#rip to a legend #text from the mod #tangentially related: i am not actually dead #it's just that between school and my job and the pirate brainrot #(the previous four months of which was feverishly consumed with a 16k word project) #i have had neither time nor impetus to make dragon ball funnies #there is also the fact that my stupid autism brain is still fuming over the website changes #that have fucked up the Aesthetique of the text posts and made them much more annoying to get in a usable form #thus adding steps to what was a simple and comfortable process #and aforementioned idiot dumb brain has not stopped pitching a bitch fit over the inconvenience. #i know it's a stupid hangup. believe me i am fully aware. but there is so little i can do about it #so i am sorry about my long absence. i really truly am. #especially to the asks that have been chillin in my inbox for all this time now #it's just that they're interesting questions that deserve me giving 100% of my brainpower to them ya feel #i want to devote appropriate attention to these little funnies and not phone it in or half ass it LOL

[orangelemonart]

My boy blorbos are different flavors of rude sad boys with red eyes, family issues, and a desire to hurt their boyfriends so bad. 

My girl blorbos I have already drawn together, of course.

#OLart #homestuck #senyuu #naruto #my girl blorbos are different flavors of snooty girls who regret hurting people impetuously all the time so bad lmaooo #...is Lionblaze a girl blorbo?

[itspileofgoodthings]

my life is a very slow process of everyone around me telling me not to be anxious and me fighting them all tooth and nail while inching towards more stable mental health.

#I know it’s not true but sometimes I feel like if I didn’t have anxiety I would not suffer at all #which. again. is false #but there’s a lot of things I don’t want in this life and a lot of things I am not scared of and a lot of things I just accept #and like. It’s FINE #but all my suffering from anxiety stays in one fixed flame of sheer agony #and it’s hard because I don’t shake like a chihuahua in the corner of my bedroom #unable to move or function #I’m always doing things and functioning and joking at parties and (generally) saying the right thing #but it’s all located in one corner in the middle of my mind attacking my ability to make judgments and live with my decisions peacefully #like an unseen wound #and the distance i feel it puts between me and other people #is one of the most painful things #just several sheets of frosted glass between me and them #and sometimes the worst it gets is when I can bear it without breaking down and so I just do and I just keep functioning #and the cold just creeps in and everything goes kind of numb! #tbh now that I think about it this might be why I often think of myself as a person with no desires or ambitions or dreams #or impetus or forward motion or anything #because I DO want things and have opinions and the exist in flashes. But also they’re buried deep under several layers of protective apathy #so they’re not stable. I drop them many times. forget them ignore them imagine that they aren’t there. I’m sorry I’m rambling I’m FINE #actually when I talk about it that’s how you know I’m doing okay with it #when I can’t talk about it and am half-heartedly going through the motions #that’s the problem #anyway whew. thanks for listening sorry for all the self-reflection etc. etc. etc.

[bluuscreen-png]

i had a very silly vision

the csp file name for this is “gee logan who let u have 2 cute bfs”

#tss #sanders sides #cartoon therapy #emile picani #patton sanders #logan sanders #logicality #can someone tell me what logan and patton’s ship names with emile are because i fricking forgot #is it uuuh #lomile #patmile #? maybe #i’ll change those tags if i’m wrong lol #eyestrain #bright colours #anyways the entire fuckin. impetus for this was #me thinking abt how emile is kinda a middle ground between logan and patton #so what if i just smooshed all 3 of them together #like barbie dolls

[muesby]

Oath Enders

#from episode 438 #thrilling intent #tifanart #harlock #inien #markus velafi #kier fiore #mercy #gregor hartway #granola guillotine #bukaroo biff #significant tungsten #bread brain #math two #okay so I know I'm like two arcs late but I suddenly had the impetus to finish this so yeah #I like to image harlock's math two as that nightmare bender had about the number two #and greg's bread brain obviously as this baroque kaleidoscope #damn they were all so bad ass that episode #more like oaf enders

[dadrielle]

Thinking about how Tuldus said "we are not their beautiful children. We are their food." Thinking about Ludinus saying "Everything scales in the universe, even ecosystems. Tonight, we unleash the natural predator of the gods." Thinking about how the good shepherd loves and protects his sheep no less for eating them when the need arises. Thinking about how the Primordials were natural, wild things - destroying the gods' creations...but was it wholesale destruction? Or wolves taking advantage of the new concept of the domesticated? If mortals are the gods' food in Exandria, is that even a bad thing? If the afterlife is, as Deanna suggests, nothing to do with the gods, is life just a way of giving that ocean (of energy? of magic?) temporary, consumable form? Is the mortal concept of being alive just the side effect of gods cultivating fruiting trees of magic? Thinking about how people who think of themselves as children of the gods might balk at the idea that they are simply a flock, even if nothing else in that relationship has changed or was untrue. Thinking about why humanoids might think they must be special in order to matter. Thinking about whether when it comes down to it, Ludinus simply couldn't bear the thought of feeding anyone else, so he went looking for a wolf to let into the house.

I don't got any conclusions right now, but it's awful interesting to ponder.

#critical role #I am also thinking I want the next chapter of dungeon meshi and this might have been the impetus to this train of thought lmao #cr3 #cr meta #I just think it's all very interesting #like what if what made the betrayers actually want to start fresh was that they hated that their food had developed sentience and free will #idk idk idk

[jamiesfootball]

Please tell me more about gender flipped Jamie because that seems like So Many Thoughts that I would love to hear

I have so many thoughts and yet they are so ephemeral and unspecific and this has been languishing in my askbox and this isn't technically what you asked for but here's what I wrote instead:

Chelsea sent Roy into retirement the way you sent an aging dog to be euthanized. Slowly and gradually, an inescapable march towards a day you knew was coming. Roy's agent gently broke the news to him that they wouldn't be renewing his contract, but there was no gently breaking Roy.

The retirement itself was an underwhelming affair; he stayed numb throughout the presser, answered questions, and left the spotlight. No bang--not even a whimper.

That was months ago. Now Roy Kent, former Chelsea star, was daydrinking at a bar in Richmond at half-three in the afternoon, wondering if he could convince the matron of the house to change the fucking channel.

"Rough season our girls have had," the proprietor, Mae, explained in a tone befitting a bartender cleaning a pint. In reality, she'd joined Roy at the bar with her own glass of chardonnay. "Lot of shake ups. New owner, new gaffer. Still, it could be worse. This new coach of theirs might be from the States, but we're sitting higher up on the table than we have in years. Does your lot keep up with the Super League, then?"

It was one in a series of loaded questions. Roy couldn't imagine you could be a bartender in London without knowing who Roy Kent was. Sheer wasted optimism, he'd had, moving out of Chelsea and assuming anything short of leaving the country would get him away from the haunting specter of his own fucking jersey.

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly. "Yeah, some of us keep up. All the teams in the Premier have sister teams, don't we?" Except for Richmond. The one outlier--the only team in the league without a big brother to speak of.

"Mm. Then you heard about the scandal?"

Roy grunted. Of course he heard. Everyone knew about Rupert Mannion ages ago; it was about bloody time someone did something. Awful for his ex-wife that it'd fallen to her to do it.

Mae topped off his chardonnay before pouring the remainder of the bottle into her own glass. "This new gaffer though, he's one of the good ones. He hangs around here sometimes, and you can tell just by listening to him--he respects those girls."

Since retiring, Roy had gotten used to living in a fog. He spent time with his niece, met with the yoga mums, let old ladies in bars talk his ears off to their heart's content, but anything he did between those events was a drudgery--a slow painful effort to drag one foot in front of the other, metaphorically and physically.

So he couldn't have said what it was about Mae's offhand praise for the Richmond Whippet's new gaffer that rankled him into talking back.

"Is he any good though?"

"What was that?"

"Their new coach," Roy gestured with his wine glass at the television in the corner. "The American. Is he any good?"

Mae shrugged one shoulder. "He's gotten better."

"So not really then."

The look Mae gave him could've scoured paint from a wall. "Well, talent isn't everything. Is it, Mr. Kent?"

She left under the guise of check on the three men in the corner. Regulars, by the looks of it; and the three of them the only ones aside from Mae wearing supporting colors for the local team.

He hadn't watched a match in ages. Oh, he'd caught highlights--it was impossible not too--but the few times he'd tried, unfairness ballooned in his chest like an atom bomb, and he gave up.

He hadn't bothered to watch anything from the women's league either. What difference would it make to try watching a different league. Sure, he didn't know any of them the way he knew the men in the Premier League, but football was football and envy was envy.

From what little he'd seen so far, he didn't envy Richmond at all. Everton had them on the ropes.

Roy winced as Number 14 knocked one off the crossbar. It'd been a good attempt. A solid cross from Number 9 had put it in the path, but with no one else nearby she'd gone for a risky shot.

From what little he'd paid attention to, only 9 and 14 were making any actual progress on the pitch, with 9 working double time to cut up the field. Every time the ball dropped back down the center, Richmond lost possession. Every. Time.

It was Number 6 that was the problem. McNally, that was it. Red-head, center-mid, captain. Roy knew her by reputation. A tough, seasoned player, who'd gotten her fair collection of caps for England. She had the experience; it didn't make any fucking sense why she'd be the weak link.

Roy looked away. He took a gulp of his chardonnay and relished in the unpleasant way it stung his nose. It'd be masochism to keep watching.

He kept watching.

Within five minutes, he'd cracked it.

Number 6 refused to pass to Number 9.

The gameplay split off like a branching tree. Either 6 got possession, crossed to another player, and they lost it to Everton's deep defensive line; or 9 got it herself and took it up the field, at which point the entire Richmond side narrowed down to the actions of 9 and 14.

What the fuck was going on?

In the aerial cameras showed two Everton players marking Number 9. Number 6 crossed to Number 24, and 24 took it to the net only for a defender to block her out easily.

A close up lingered on Number 24. She couldn't have looked more upset with herself. Young thing. Good talent, bad nerves. Fixable with the right support.

Number 6 got into Number 9's face and shouted. So where's her fucking support?

The camera panned in on 6 and 9 as what looked like a shouting match took place between the teammates. There was McNally, red-haired and red-faced and openly swearing even if the mics couldn't pick it up, and then there was Number 9. A cut of a girl, strong featured and iron-jawed, with her forehead set down like she intended to ram McNally like a bull if the captain came any closer.

What a fucking mess.

The camera panned to the gaffer, who stood with his hands in his pockets and a frown under his mustache. He called neither player off.

The match went back into play and almost immediately Number 9 took a foul. A blatant hit, tackled before she could grab possession again. Everton had singled her out just as clearly as Roy had.

Number 6 stood off to the side while 14 and 24 argued with the ref. The captain watched in open annoyance as Number 9 levered herself off the ground with a wince, her left side stained with grass and a limp.

Some fucking captain.

Number 9 took position for a free kick, and her name finally flashed across the screen in a font large enough for Roy to read. Jamie Tartt. Tartt lined up for the kick, for all the good it would do when she was a good forty meters back--

Tartt walloped the ball cleanly into the net.

A frisson of electricity ran down Roy's spine.

The lads at the end of the bar broke into cheers.

Half of the Richmond Whippets descended on Tartt. The other half shuffled around in discontent.

Number 24--Obisanya--nodded at Tartt, who nodded back. They didn't hug.

Extricating herself from (half) of her teammates, Tartt threw an arm around the only person she'd passed to all night--14, Rojas. Heads pressed together, headband to matching headband, they looked furtive and serious in their two-person huddle.

The camera panned back to the gaffer. He clapped but he didn't celebrate.

The whole thing was bizarre.

No, Mae was right; talent wasn't everything. Because Richmond had talent--what a spectacular fucking goal--and they were a fucking mess, like nothing Roy had ever witnessed before in his career.

If Mae was willing to put up with him, he might have to come back for the next match. Who knew, maybe he'd try swinging by on an off-match day to catch their gaffer and give him a piece of his mind.

Finally, something to look forward to. His sister would be so proud.

#genderswap au #i go back and forth on how to swap the coaching staff without losing the impetus of Ted and Rebecca's relationship #particularly the Divorcing Rupert of it all #and I do have a genderswapped Roy in my back pocket #but i also have this version--where I get to explore a bit of How Roy Exists if he had stayed at Chelsea and never met Ted when he did #i also get to give Roy an older version of a team of girls who are unfazed and delighted by the angry sweary beardy man yelling at him #so that delights me too #anyways I have lots of thoughts and this was supposed to be a short writing sprint #it is not short #whoops #ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #writing snippet #if this one seems rougher than the other stuff it is because I am still braindead at finally finishing chapter one of the other thing

[touchlikethesun]

one of my fav things about until my feet bleed and my heart aches is how it worked in and reimagined iconic moments from the show itself, like not that they’re the first person ever to do that ofc not, but i think it works really really well for this fic. i finished it days ago and i’m still thinking about it tbh, all those little moments. the tie pulling, for instance.

#i’m catching up on victuuri fic now #i ac hadn’t read umfb&mha or vic’s pov before #and it’s really stuck out bc i really admire how they crafted the au and how they tied back to the show #the tie pulling reimagined was very. memorable. but i also really liked viktor seeing yuuri skate his routine in moscow #i liked the use of the eros costume #i like the pole dancing being the impetus for vic realising that yuuri might not hate him #instead of being the moment he himself fell in love #there were just so many Ah Ha i recognise that moments and it made reading a lot of fun #as for my feelings about the fics over all i prefer vitya’s pov bc yuuri frustrated me immensely #but i really liked both of them they kept me up all night #yuri on ice #victuuri #fic recs

[tenspontaneite]

will you put out any more of your Assembly fic ? i remember seeing you had some more chapters planned after 7 and it's my favourite rain world fanfic

Yes, I will. I have simply been Having A Time lately and writing basically fuck all 👌👌

Been doing more art than anything else honestly. On a related note, I recommend anyone who doesn't want to see art for unpublished assembly or post assembly stuff filter the tag 'assembly spoilers'. It'll be relevant. Honestly it's already relevant, I should probably tag a few things.

#asks #also art is easier to do at the moment #whenever i have some spare time #i dont really need brain for art. just creative impetus #and that's a crucial difference when all my spoons are going into work and basic self maintenance rn #writing requires much brain #and I'm currently doing so much of it at work i just dont got any brain left the rest of the time #tragic #work writing rn is entirely longform blogs and articles and shit #and that stuff is hard on the brain weasels #anyway this has been my note form update on my life #and i mean it about the assembly spoilers #my moon's post assembly shit is so cool and fascinating and i want to draw a lot of it #assembly

[sidetourni]

I’m here again for my once-monthly posting of whatever this is. Hi.

#weyoun #damar #corat damar #star trek: deep space 9 #st: ds9 #I regret to inform you that I have cuter pictures of these 2 horrible men that hate each other that I am too embarrassed to post #dayoun people make friends with me so we can have a sleepover and braid each other's hair and listen to the playlists I've made #someone be my penpal and I will send you xeroxes of the worst drawings of all time #not to imply that I'm not embarrassed about these drawings either #but there's a good hand here and there and what is my impetus to post art if not that

[eastgaysian]

me not specifying what yaoi im talking about in the dunmesh post so i can have plausible deniability for the hater allegations but everyone in the tags will still hate for me anyway >>>>>

#it is all of them though i start falling asleep like it's literally all about marcille and the extremes she'll go to rather than accept #falin's death and the impetus of the plot is also falin being unwilling to accept laios and marcille's deaths no matter what it costs. #we all want to fuck senshi. but like literally farcille is the heart

[english-history-trip]

Some paintings I've been doing! Some I've already posted, but the rest aren't really In The Theme. But I'm still pleased with them; mainly, I'm pleased that I'm painting again after like five years of stagnation.

#fun fact my impetus to start painting again was that I needed something to do for two hours while I hid from my boss #art #cats #doggos #the critters all belong to various people but the last one is Mine #I used to do these for $25 a pop so hmu I guess