This blog is for anything I like. Mostly, Transformers, Bioware, Yuurivoice stuff (faves are Alphonse & Seth), Skyrim. And some other things. 30's. Female.
there are too many things happening this summer that i'm thinking we are going to need an extra 6-12 months of june and possibly another 3-4 months of july. probably no extra august as the problem should hopefully sort itself out by then. we are also looking into extending the day night cycle to 55 hours and extending the human lifespan to 10000 years.
My 101st (and final) painting in my Let's Paint: Oblivion series! It seemed only appropriate to spend my last stream for the game painting the Imperial City. Some closing thoughts and a timelapse under the cut:
So yeah, all done! I had such lovely comments through all the reblogs on this series, I was really touched and wish there was a better way to respond to individual hashtag commentary on tumblr, but I just wanted to say I read everything and thank you so much everyone <3
A few people seemed curious what I would do after I was done with this, and the answer is... I'm moving on to Hollow Knight! Stay tuned.
if we post too fast, we get accused of using ai (no, you don't know how fast someone can write. you don't even know if the "too-frequent-to-be-human updates" you see are something that have long been finished and sitting in an author's drafts for god knows how long. just because it's recently posted, doesn't necessarily always mean it's recently written too. a lot of writers finish the whole thing first before they start posting it chapter by chapter).
if we take "too long to update", we get people pressuring us to "update faster" even though fanfics are our hobbies and we write for ourselves first and foremost.
if our works are grammatically correct, we get accused of using ai (some of us just love correct grammars).
if our works are not grammatically correct, we get insulted/criticized (mind you, not everybody writes in their native language. kudos to writers who write in their second, or third, or fourth language — I'm willing to bet a lot of people who criticize fanfics because of poor grammar can't even speak other languages besides english).
if our paragraphs are "too long and too detailed", we get accused of using ai.
if our paragraphs are "too short", we also get accused of using ai.
if we are autistic and we write in ways some deem "too robotic", we get accused of using ai.
some people just don't use their brains to think "ai was trained on human-made works, it was trained to look human-made. ai writes this way because the way it writes is the way real humans write — real humans whose works it was trained to mimic". instead they somehow disregard this logic and think "hmmm this work looks ai-generated. I will engage in witch hunt, be a bully and harass writers whose works I don't vibe with".
I cannot believe that the project is finally out omg! It was so much fun to be able to be apart of this, I am so honored to be one of the many great animators on this project. This was honestly something so new for me to do, both trying/learning about animation and joining/working on a project with so many new folks. I was so nervous. But it was such a great choice to join. I got to try something new AND meet some of the coolest pals that I know. Im not great with words most of the time but I just wanna say I’m so proud to be apart of such an amazing community with such fantastic people…This project was so epic.
BIGGEST THANK YOU to our directors/editors y’all did amazing putting this together I appreciate your guys hard work seriously.💓 Also shout out to all of my fellow animators!!! You all did so amazing!!!!🥹💗 I hope to do more projects like this in the future with all of you💞 LOVE YOU MY OOMFIES/MOOTIES😭🫵🏼💕
Here are some of the stills I worked on for my parts⭐️
Now that I'm done wailing in despair over having to make a hard decision in a video game one thing I really like about the whole scene with Lödwyn and Ryngrim is Lödwyn talking about how it's unfair of Sapadal to demand so much of the envoy just because they happened to pick the envoy out without any say on their (the envoy's) part. Because she's definitely trying to manipulate them here, she's trying to push them to side with her over Sapadal, but she's also not wrong! Sapadal is asking way too much of the envoy and it isn't fair! A given envoy can decide whether or not they think it's acceptable and to be fair to Sapadal they seem to be extremely short on options at the moment, but the envoy is in a really bad position entirely due to Sapadal picking them before they were born and expecting them to act according to their (Sapadal's) needs as a result of that choice the envoy had no part in. I love it when a character's attempt at manipulation is made more effective by the fact that their chosen angle of attack is objectively correct.
they make a lot of “I’m fucking your bf/gf/partner jokes” no I will not take criticism they absolutely do this
They have all three called each other "cuck" as a joke so many times when trash-talking during video games and while roughhousing that it's practically earned the status of a pet name in their dynamic.
Her temper ran atypical for a dragon, according to one incorrect party.
Paarthurnax once mused to himself that she avoided conflict so much he wondered if she really was Dragonborn- this, she let the old dragon believe. He hadn’t seen the man she scorched alive for making hands at Lucien, which was just as well. Because she did run hot: she had a temper forged in the deepest pits of Oblivion, a snarling, gnawing bite worse than her bark, if only because she rarely barked at all..
She did, though, when bite wasn’t an option. But oh, how she wanted to sink her teeth into him sometimes. He drove her out of her wounded, aching mind, until she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to throttle him or fuck him.
Her hands sank deeper in the bowl in a violent motion, one she regretted when pale, sticky dough trapped her palms. She tugged them free, tipped her head back with closed eyes. Flour stained her skin white up to her forearms.
She imagined how people would react to the fact their Dragonborn had taken to bread baking. Anger issues notwithstanding, it was an interesting hobby.
Good for calming the race of her heart, the furious rythm brought about by only one person. He should be coming back soon, she knew him well enough to know that- except she hadn’t known he could get that mad. What did she really know?
The argument had been so stupid, in hindsight. They’d never truly fought before, but the tension hung in the air like stubborn dust motes, and when the memory of the arrow narrowly missing his head flashed before her eyes, she’d struck the first verbal blow. And he’d matched it, snarling like a wild animal.
Killing to protect the world was nothing new. Knowing sure as the sun rising that she would die for him was.. newer, if a long time in the making.
She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. The door shutting rattled the ceiling all the way from the dining room. She did not go seeking him out- she knew he would come to her. And he did.
More flour on the table. An egg rolled over the edge and shattered on the floor.
”Still mad?” His voice washed over her like spring water trickling between the river stones outside. She clutched the dough in her hands, fingers sinking into the gluten strands- probably ripping them apart beyond rescue, too.
His boots creaked behind her- floorboards dirty with flour shaking loose into the basement, no doubt, something that should irritate her- except this was all her doing, both the fight and the bread, and hands were settling on her hips, tugging her into his body warm with forgiveness as much as his claws stung like retribution, sinking in through her tunic.
”Bastard,” she exhaled in a gasp, head thunking into his firm shoulder. His wild scent clung in her nostrils, wilderness, aspen leaves and something sweet, his fur soft against her cheek.
She caught his gaze. Gold irises blown back to rings around his pupils. Still, he smiled, and it was almost, almost cruel. He was too kind for that, but then he spoke like he wanted to eat her alive.
”Bend over the table,” His voice was rough like gravel. She flushed- from her breasts to the roots of her hair- and she was still so mad. She was so wet.
Her forehead hit the cool wood, smearing flour along her overheated skin. His hands hooked on wool and flesh at once, shoving her long skirt up out of the way.
His mouth on her spoke in a way he usually didn’t. He was always honest, but sex was as open as it got. He bullied her legs out of the way and licked into her cunt so deep she thought he might suffocate. When her shaking hand found his hair, thick and cold where his jewelry pressed to her skin, he sank deeper still.
There was a disconnect in how her body felt pleasure. Maybe, she’d theorized before, it was the act of submission, temporary or not, that raised hackles in a soul much older than hers. It lasted longer than she expected each time, until she could not draw enough breath to hiss, and then her legs were shaking, and she suddenly wasn’t angry at all anymore.
Mirmulnir had been haughty. Sahloknir had been angry. Alduin had been afraid.
His fear still stung at the back of her throat some days, like bile after sick. It was the one she understood the most.
She came gasping, clawing for purchase with claws she did not have in the waking world. Her thighs clamped tight around his head, and he held her through her dying and being reborn. Flour puffed into the air where her nails dug in, and the rage died with the pleasure. Slow to ebb, but reliably fading, until she could see straight again when she opened her eyes.
Gentle hands eased her onto her back. She was sticky with sweat, and her eyes fell to her front with a quiet exhale- powdered, would be how to best describe her state. Flour clung to her skin, wetted by perspiration. Her breasts had been pressed white in perfect indents from gravity.
She lay there, trying to breathe as her mind returned from whatever faraway universe it’d been chucked into.
He licked a comforting stripe along her inner thigh. Her soul sang for him, and she gazed down at his form haloed like some sort of deity come down to Nirn.
”You’re as stubborn as I am, you know,” she spoke softly.
Inigo’s expression was softer in the sun streaming through the window. His muzzle dragged slick up her stomach, filthy-sweet, and he pressed his cheek to the soft curve of her belly, whiskers rustling.
”I am not leaving you while I still breathe,” he said, pupils expanding, then shrinking, like Dwemer gears, moving in that brilliant mind of his. He held her naked hips to his body with reverence. ”I will not stop trying to take blows meant for you. You may be angry with me. I can outlast it.”
Heat sparked in her belly anew. It wasn’t anger anymore. Perhaps the initial burst of it had come from the fact she knew she was the exact same way. She had come a long way, right back around to being unable to live without him. He could not die, not from an arrow meant for her. She feared this argument would last them till the bitter end.
Her hands hooked in his scruff, and he let himself be pulled up, her hooking a leg around his hips. An indigo tail lashing fine-powdered wheat off the edge of the table, his beautiful, wild eyes coming nearer..
”You can try,” she breathed into his muzzle, lips catching on the three scars that ran across his flat nose- she found, when she leaned back a little, that she’d smeared flour in his face. Marking him with her touch, while his face was still slick with the rest of her. Inigo was grinning, claws dimpling pink marks into her thighs she knew would stay for days.
She had managed to find herself a perfect match, after all. He was as feral as her- where she wielded words like the Thu’um, Inigo was a man of action.
He was also, quite possibly, more stubborn than her. Not that she’d be telling him that, not while he was working at the laces of his trousers with one clever hand, holding her hip with the other in a promise of more soon to come..
She had loaves to finish proofing, after all. Bread was her favorite.
Something, something, relaxation and unwitting anger management.. Paarthurnax baking flake crusts. She snorted flour all over Inigo’s face in laughter.
Love truly was madness. She’d found comfort in that insanity long ago.
The result of @vorchagirl‘s amazing suggestion, Jub and Liara with their beautiful family of varren puppers! Everything changes and everything stays the same.