#the National pasttime

[rebuildingrob]

The National Pastime

What is your favorite hobby or pastime? My favorite is time, at least the only one I’ve really been paying much attention to beyond blogging lately is baseball. Before I go any further, I need to explain that i didn’t play organized ball beyond a few years of parks and rec ball. I never played in middle school, high school college or the minors. I just happen to be a spectator that has…

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#baseball #Comerica Park #dailyprompt #dailyprompt-2083 #Detroit #Detroit Tigers #guaranteed rate field #hobbies #Major League Baseball #MLB #playtime #PNC Park #the National pasttime #Tiger Stadium #World Series

[sixthrock]

I find it kind of funny whenever homo/transphobes are all like “oh my goddd why are the ALPHABET PEOPLE so TYRANNICAL they’re only 1% of the population and yet they want everyone in the world to bend to their will!!!!” because uh

you know what else is actually less than 1% of the world’s population

and these fuckers actually did try to take over the whole world back in the day

#im american and i will take any opportunity i can to dunk on the british #its our national pasttime

[panvani]

And if I'm am alcoholic then whatever literally 1st national Salvadoran pastime and 3rd national Irish pasttime

#logxx #To Gavriel's vredit #1st national pasttime is telling lies 2nd narional pasttime is taking the piss

[bringmemyrocks]

I love how a lot of tumblrinas think they've discovered The Art Of Thinking Other Activists Are Cringe

Read 60s activist literature. You are not original.

#i #this isn't to say ppl aren't cringe but it's a national pasttime get over yourself

[five-one-two-station]

Everybody should have their own fun, and this isn't trying to harsh anybody's buzz, but I find the impulse to make your own cutesy/badass Replika oc doing funny or heroic or badass things a little odd. Like, that character you designed as a super badass soldier, or well-armed and armored steely eyed cop type... who would they have been built to fight or police exactly? Remember who all those guns and weapons were intended for use on?

I know we're all sick of discourse over who "gets" the game, and I'm by no means scolding anybody for something that harmless, but what's interesting to me is the sense that designing overtly "cool" Replika personas and OCs, complete with the propaganda poster style imagery, feels a little...

I mean, bluntly, it's like the in-world propaganda worked, unironically, on some level, for many people. Kolibris aren't scary, they're whimsical and fun! Storches aren't notably cruel enforcers and chain gang drivers, they're Protektors! Falke isn't a camp commandant, she's a beautiful angel!

The Replikas aren't cool and heroic figures in the reality of the game. They're the carefully crafted organs of a system of control so dreadful it could do what it did to Elster and Ariane. They're victims to that system themselves too, sure - and humanising them is a nuanced and valuable observation of how totalitarian regimes maintain themselves - but that doesn't negate the fact they're also the ones who operate, enforce and perpetuate it, a big part of what the game knows and communicates about such societies. It's notable that the game makes it clear few, if any, of the Replikas actually buy into the Nation as an ideal at all - they enforce it no less pitilessly anyway, incapable or unsafe to imagine anything else.

Their affectations, pasttimes, trinkets, and even affections for each other, all serve to draw a stark contrast to how callously they regard the gestalts they keep suppressed. Their disposability is something they're conscious and fearful of themselves, but fail to recognise as a commonality with the people they brutalise every day, their business as usual. The only grief, tragedy or suffering they acknowledge is their own - they have no regard for any such things in the humans they have... well, dehumanised.

But S-23 Sierpinski was such a hellhole for most of its denizens under "normal" conditions that the nightmare it becomes is arguably an improvement; if only because there are fewer people left now to suffer it. There's a dark poetry here - because the place's banal cruelty is "off camera" to us, it's very naturally less real to us than the grief of the crying Eule. It's only natural, too, to forget how grim the Replikas' purposes are when you don't have to see anyone endure the brunt of it.

And isn't that the very same effect a state like the Nation is seeking in the first place, by disappearing people away to such dark little corners to have it done? In our world, no less than that one.

That works like a kind of propaganda too, not being able to see it - a propaganda of hidden things, as powerful as any poster. A space that's been intentionally left blank.

Kolibris are literal thought police; they intrude on people's very minds, interrogating them to death as a matter of course, with hardly a care either way. The various Protektor classes are functionally concentration camp guards and slave drivers. Falke and Adler are overseeing what amounts to a gulag, one so unimaginably awful Ariane preferred to spend years of her life alone in space to the prospect of being sent there, and inevitably worked to death, far underground.

I think there's a reason we never see one of those posters for LSTRs in game. How could we be asked to forgive our own if we ever did?

#signalis #signalis spoilers

[rukafais]

The most irritating part of the drow lore telephone game is that "all drow wear practical clothing because backstabbing is the national pasttime in Menzo" and "drow women are explicitly bigger and stronger than drow men due to them getting more training and, it's implied, the lion's share of food and care" are straight up just book canon and then a lot of sourcebook material is like "But drow women CAN'T BE bigger than men? But bark bark I want my sexy drow women, they should all wear sexy, sexy skimpy clothing!" and then somehow the books get blamed for this when the books have never budged on the original stance?

#And then people repeat it ad infinitum and its literally fucking incorrect jesus hell

[bamdelune]

Corroded in Memory ★ Zhongli x fem!reader (adepti / warrior reader)

notes. can be seen as platonic or romantic, angst, hurt/comfort-ish, reader is dead, character study if you squint.

Time was a funny little thing for Rex Lapis. As the years went on, time became something insignificant to the archon who now lived among the mortals he had always promised to protect, witnessing how the sacrifices he had made during that one period in his lengthy lifetime has bore fruit to give the citizens of Liyue a peaceful lifestyle with no major worries, save for the supposedly basic needs such as financial stability and anything alike. Liyue, a land that was once ridden with violent battle grounds bloomed beautifully into a prosperous, if not one of the most powerful of the seven nations of the archons. Yet with all this, he couldn't shake off the feeling of something missing. A piece of the puzzle that perhaps had fell off in the process of achieving his main goal.

There he sat on one of the many chairs of the local teahouse, wallowing in some sort of grieving state. There was no you in his present.

No you to fill the heart that was torn out of him the moment you had perished in the heat of battle, right in front of his eyes. The same war that had rid him of his closest friend, the God of Dust not even a few months earlier.

He thought back to you, or at least whatever what was left of you in his memories.

You were a strong warrior, you were a coin. The gentlest, the kindest, the wisest—a sight for sore eyes and the other was a determined and strategic fighter in battle.

Zhongli's former pasttime was sparring with you whenever he could, with Guizhong being the mediator (albeit, she liked messing with Zhongli and giving you free wins). There was just something about you in general that gave him the greatest kick to brandish his weapon and duel with you. Whether it be the battlefield or just the sparring grounds, you were his main motivator to push through with everything and anything. With you by his side, alive and breathing, he would be able to conquer anything if he wanted to. His strength lies in you.

A piece of his heart lies with you, even when you were peacefully buried deep in the depths of a quiet place in Minlin.

His consciousness steps back to where he currently was, sitting as he listened to the storyteller explain his next story—a story about you.

Warmth fills his heart. Albeit it was still tattered around a few edges, he was glad to know that even when you were gone, the people of Liyue would carry on to remember you as these short years go by. A sense of relief washes over him like a wave knowing that he won't be able to forget you that easily. You won't be a corroded element of his countless memories anytime soon.

#bamdelune #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #bamdelune's bookstore #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x female reader #zhongli x y/n #rex lapis #morax x reader #morax x y/n #morax x you #genshin impact x you

[greenyvertekins]

Presenting my first fanfic in 17 years. Just a fluffy little story about Sonic and Tails during the rainy season in the Mystic Ruins. This is the first part. I might continue it.

Please note that no part of this is intended to come-off as romantic in nature. SonTails really isn't my thing. I view them as brothers.

"Remind me to look up the weather forecast before we go shopping" If one stood by the Mystic Ruins train station during this one rainy day, they'd have seen a cerulean Hedgehog and a golden orange Fox with two tails running through the deluge carrying numerous shopping bags. The Hedgehog kept a decent lead but the Fox was not far behind, each of them kicking-up moisture from the drenched ground with every step. Barely a minute had passed when they reached the sole building apart from the station for miles around - A laboratory with two levels. Electricity-generating mechanisms swirled in a small brick pool, providing the only sound other than the pitter-patter of incessant rain. There was a dome covering one half of the building with a small circular platform atop it, an apparatus for holding a telescope being its only feature. The rest of the upper level was taken by a small house with a chimney and a single window. Sonic and Tails stepped through the lower door to the hangar, Sonic immediately dashing off to the bathroom to grab towels for him and his friend. Both were drenched head to foot. "Brrrrrr!" said Sonic as he took each of his quills in his hands and twisted them to wring-out the rainwater they had absorbed. He shook his entire body to rid himself of residual moisture. "That was sort of refreshing in a way" he added, dabbing his body with his towel. "I thought you didn't like water?" Tails asked curiously, mimicking Sonic in shaking himself off. His fur immediately became bushy, his twin tails looking no different to a pair of white-tipped orange feather dusters. Sonic tried not to laugh at the sight. "Rain is....tolerable I guess. But miss me with a lake or swimming pool. Totally not my thing" "Here" Tails said, holding his hand out for the towel, his own tucked under his other arm. "I'll dump these in the laundry basket. Can you go light the fire in the upstairs lounge Sonic?" "Sure thing!" ~ ~ ~

A single strike of the ferrous rod and a blaze of orange and red erupted within the fireplace. Feeling the warmth rush over him, Sonic outstretched his palms to dry his gloves and warm his soaked hands. The heat was soothing and most welcome after the deluge he had been subjected to outside.

"Hey, come over here Tails! The fire feels great!" "Not right now" the Fox child replied from the lab, fishing around in his toolbox now having put away the shopping. "The Tornado seems to have a blocked fuel line" "You're gonna catch your death of cold if you don't dry-off fully 'lil bro!"

The young Fox just shrugged and continued looking in the toolbox. Sonic gave a sigh. "Very well. I'm gonna continue reading my current book. Already reached chapter 12 y'know"

Tails just gave a nod in response, evidently having found the tool he had been looking for.

He sat on the couch and reached for the book on the coffee table titled "RUN ON THE EARTH", turning to the page where a bookmark had been inserted. Reading during the rainy season was one of his favourite pasttimes and was generally preferable to running outside in the pouring rain. Having torrential rain pelt his eyes when moving at superspeed was not a pleasant experience.

Crossing one leg atop the other, he placed the book atop them and traced the text with a finger in order to find the place he had left off on.

~ ~ ~

About an hour and a half had passed. Tails was underneath the Tornado on his wheeled mechanic's creeper, tinkering away. Sonic was fully invested in a chapter about the water Kingdom of Soleanna and was fascinated by its article about the Festival of the Sun, a national ceremony. Though he hadn't visited this place before, viewing the photos of the canals, the castle town and the dancers beneath the fireworks felt oddly reminiscient. It was a bizarre feeling, one he couldn't quite put his finger on.

All of a sudden, Tails sneezed from under the biplane.

“Bless you” said Sonic without looking up from his book, largely consumed by this strange feeling of familiarity.

“Thanks Son…A-tishoo!”

The Hedgehog glanced up from the page he was reading with mild concern to see the young Fox had emerged from beneath the Tornado on his creeper and was sniffling and rubbing his nose with his fist, eyes scrunched tightly.

“You ok little bro?” Sonic enquired, one eye ridge raised. “I hope you're not coming down with a cold”

“Just a tickle” Tails replied, sniffling harshly. If Sonic didn’t know any better, he’d swear he could see the cub’s nose streaming slightly. He got up from the couch and approached him, looking a tad worried.

“Here. Use my handkerchief” he said kindly, putting the book down, getting up from the sofa and walking towards Tails whilst pulling the white fabric from the inside of his glove cuff. He always kept a clean one on him due to his hay fever and had many to spare after the events of a previous adventure. The azure Hedgehog gently wiped his little nose, pressing more tightly when his breath suddenly began to hitch.

“Heh…he…heshoo!”

Sonic grimaced slightly, quickly turning to a sympathetic smile as Tails sniffed, eyes teary. He sounded quite congested.

“I’be sorry Sodic *Sniffle* I don’t doe why I’be suddenly sdeezig like dis”

“No worries” he replied gently. “Just blow your nose. You really sound like you need to“

The little Fox obliged, producing a surprisingly loud honk as Sonic wiped his nose thoroughly.

“There you go” he said as he removed the handkerchief and tossed it onto the wet towels in the laundry basket. He removed one of his gloves and placed a bare palm on his forehead, brushing the trio of bangs to the side as Tails blinked confusedly. Though the surrounding fur was still damp, the Hedgehog could easily feel considerable heat emanating from his brow.

“Hmmm…. you feel a little too warm." Sonic mused, one brow furrowed. "Why, I do think you’re coming down with a cold Mr. Prower” he remarked in a lighthearted imitation of an upper class gentleman, putting his glove back on and guiding Tails to the sofa.

"You need to rest. Lie down here and I'll make some tea" The Hedgehog grabbed both of their empty mugs and took them to the kitchenette.

"I can't get sick right now! I have things that need working on!" Tails exclaimed, sniffling lightly.

"Bud. Your health is your priority. Not your inventions." the Hedgehog replied firmly though not unkindly as he walked from the kitchenette to the cupboard, kneeling and taking a small folded throw blanket from the bottom shelf and a box of tissues from atop the drawer. He wrapped the young Fox in it, leaving only his head out. He placed the tissues on the coffee table beside the globe.

"They'll still be there when you're better" The sick cub gave an annoyed growl under his breath as Sonic walked back to the kitchenette and filled the kettle with water. "I said you'd catch your death of cold if you didn't dry off completely" the Hedgehog muttered darkly as he placed the kettle on the lit stove, attention focused of fixing-up some hot drinks for him and his friend. He placed a tea bag in his own green mug and a thick slice of lemon, half a teaspoon of ground ginger and a tablespoon of honey in Tails' mug. The young Fox pouted, holding his throw blanket tighter to his body. Before he could do anything else, he felt the tickling sensation in his nose and sneezed again. "Gesundheit" remarked Sonic, glancing over to the sofa as Tails plucked a tissue from the box and wiped his nose with it. "*Sniff* Thanks"

Sonic placed the two mugs on the tray and carried it into the lounge. He placed it atop the coffee table and handed Tails his mug. "Here you go. It's lemon, honey and ginger. It'll help with that cold" The Fox took a sniff of the hot drink. Though his nose was very much stuffed-up and he couldn't really smell any of it. Taking a precautionary sip (Since Sonic was certainly not a wiz in the kitchen. As previous experiences had taught him), he could at least detect the spiciness of the ginger on his tongue. He took a gulp and was soothed by the sweet yet spicy hot liquid as it went down and warmed his chest. "Dis is really gudd" "I'm glad you like it" the blue Hedgehog replied with a smile as he took a sip of his own tea, Spagonia's finest blend with a bit of milk and two spoonfuls of sugar. Just the way he liked it.

"That drink always makes me feel better when I'm under the weather" Sonic added, taking another sip of his tea and savouring the flavor.

~ ~ ~ TBC.

#Verte writes fanfic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Miles Tails Prower #DO NOT TAG AS SONTAILS OR ROMANCE

[sadomarxist]

Weird that Germany doesn't say the Holodomor is a genocide but Paraguay of all places says its a genocide.

That map brings up a lot of questions

Paraguay is also the only country in the entirety of latin america to categorize Hamas as a terrorist group. Having stupid batshit opinions is one of their favorite national pasttimes. Up there with selling shitty cigarettes.

[hermoheikko]

Maanantaiaamuna krapula ja vapina Tuijotan vessan seinää

I made a 10-track playlist for Harry but only with Finnish songs, because drinking and crying is our national pasttime I have Disco Elysium brainworms and every song reminds me of him....

(Also edited the cover image.)

Also in YouTube ->

#Disco Elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #suomeksi #pspspspss finnish DE fans #i kinda want to take some of the lyrics and make some fake dialogue pics in collage mode #because i have a clear image which skills would say which parts of the lyrics

[deusvervewrites]

Springtime for Todoroki: At some point, everyone in Japan and the world realises Shouto is trying to not be a hero and keeps failing at being kicked out of heroism due to accidental successes. Everyone, that is, except Endeavour. It is universally considered the most hilarious thing they have ever heard and learning how Shouto failed to fail at heroism this time is considered a national pasttime.

To be Todoroki is suffering

#asks #springtime for todoroki au

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Where does your opinion lie on the matter of sex and gender and the relationship between biological sex and gender roles/ gender prescriptions as a social construct.

We don't ask the same questions about tigers, peafowl or bees.

Sex-based behaviors (gender) are real. We can see them in other primates in a way that mirror ourselves.

Nobody wonders whether the peacock grows feathers and shows off for the females because of social expectations.

Nobody wonders whether the female mantis eats her mate because she's "fIgHtInG tEh PaTrIaRcHy!"

There are very real human sex-based averages that are derived from the evolution of our species, the pressures it has been under, the variations that have been most successful, and what each sex has needed of the other.

This means that, for example, boys are more inclined towards thing-based activities - careers, toys, pasttimes - while girls are more inclined towards people-oriented activities... on average. This is replicated cross-cultures.

Of course there are girls who want to fix trucks for a living, and boys who want to be kindergarten teachers. They are still girls and boys who will grow up to be women and men. And nobody should get in their way.

What you like doesn't define what you are. But what you are is still statistically significant, because it offers societal-wide information. The society-wide trend doesn't predict or define individuals, and individuals don't negate a society-wide trend. Which many people don't seem to understand.

Here's a good example. Average intelligence of women and men is the same.

While the means are the same, male intelligence is more variable, so you'll find more highly intelligent men at the higher end, and more really stupid men at the lower end. You possibly know at least one highly intelligent woman who is smarter than most of the men you know. That doesn't change the societal-wide trend.

This is simply a fact. You can get angry or offended, but it doesn't stop being true.

And in a similar way, men and women having different average interests, tendencies and behaviors - e.g. women tend to be more socially-oriented, men tend to be more action-oriented - makes sense in the light of evolution and the demands and pressures our primitive ancestors were subjected to by the natural world and the battle for success. And the demands males and females put upon each other.

Nobody gets angry when we mention that humans are prone to pareidolia - interpreting or perceiving meaning where it isn't there, such as a smiling or pouting "face" in the front end of a car. Evolutionarily, it makes sense. In the same way, noticing that sex-based differences are real might make people angry or offended, but that offence doesn't matter as far as what is real.

The idea that "gender is a social construct," then is nonsense. It's a denial of evolution itself, a denial of the way we came to be as a species. To suggest that the same tendencies we see in our primate ancestors - e.g. maternal instinct in female chimps carrying sticks - is some kind of social brainwashing requires believing that those tendencies disappeared from humanity's evolutionary line, then re-emerged, identically, as socially imposed roles.

That's creationism. Actually it's worse. Xian creationism simply asserts that everything is as it always was. Everything was created in its current form. Gender creationists must assert that humanity wound backwards to a blank slate state, then had the wherewithal to form a conspiracy of oppression to reinstitute the same vestigial traits back into society. Oh, and this happened either sufficiently far back in our development to precede or dispersal throughout the lands of Earth, or coincidentally every society on Earth came up with it more recently. Gender social constructivism is evolution-denying creationism.

This level of magical thinking makes me long for the days where Xians rambled about the laws of thermodynamics that they don't understand. The talking snake and donkey seem almost reasonable.

The domains that produce this kind of thinking are not science-based, they're political and ideological, such as Gender Studies. People in these fields don't study biology, they don't study demography, they don't study anthropology. They don't even study basic statistics.

Feminist theory, which is where "gender is a social construct" was really incubated as the justification for patriarchy theory, is not scientific, and is opinion (grievance)-based, not evidence based. One of the most tragic examples of this is the John/Joan case, where David Reimer was raised as a girl after a botched circumcision.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Reimer

Finally, on 14 March 1980, Reimer's parents told him the truth about his gender reassignment, following advice from Reimer's endocrinologist and psychiatrist. At 14, having been informed of his past by his father, Reimer decided to assume a male gender identity, calling himself David. He underwent treatment to reverse the reassignment, including testosterone injections, a double mastectomy, and phalloplasty operations.

[..]

His case came to international attention in 1997 when he told his story to Milton Diamond, an academic sexologist who persuaded Reimer to allow him to report the outcome in order to dissuade physicians from treating other infants similarly. Soon after, Reimer went public with his story and John Colapinto published a widely disseminated and influential account in Rolling Stone magazine in December 1997. The article won the National Magazine Award for Reporting.

This was later expanded into The New York Times best-selling biography As Nature Made Him: The Boy Who Was Raised as a Girl (2000), in which Colapinto described how—contrary to Money's reports—when living as Brenda, Reimer did not identify as a girl. He was ostracized and bullied by peers (who dubbed him "cavewoman"), and neither frilly dresses nor female hormones made him feel female.

Human nature is not as malleable as some people would like you to believe. You are a sexed being. How you "identify" can't change what you are. That doesn't mean you can't do what you want, express yourself how you want, but you are what you are.

This is only controversial to the people who want to push the story of humans being infinitely moldable, existing as divine gender thetans imprisoned in vulgar meat bodies.

Now, it is true that some of these tendencies and behaviors will tend to be limited or shaped by the culture of the society. But they're not constructed wholesale. For example, Japanese society is highly structured around honor. So male and female behaviors will tend to be expressed through those norms; male aggression and female agreeableness may take unique culturally influenced forms. But they're not created by them. Societies which have different pressures - e.g. in the freezing north regions of North America, vs the arid deserts of Africa - will unsurprisingly produce different cultural expectations upon men and women. Recognizing that isn't a form of bigotry, it's an acknowledgement of reality.

There's a reason stereotypes exist - because there is an element of truth in there, even if it's a tiny seed. If there wasn't, we wouldn't be able to recognize or apply them. They exist because humans are prone to cognitive shortcuts, as we have a lot of information to process and making choices or decisions doesn't always allow one to sit down and think things through methodically. Our ancestors wouldn't have had the time, and probably wouldn't have had the cognitive power.

"Girls like dolls, boys like trucks," is a very dirty shorthand. At its core is a demonstrable truth regarding societal-wide averages and tendencies that takes several paragraphs to explain more accurately (and some people will still be determined to be pissed off, no matter how you frame it). But stereotypes are not all we are, and there's no reason not to acknowledge them, but put them aside, or try to. And certainly no reason to use them to structure society itself, "fixing" girls who like trucks and boys who like dolls.

I don't know if that answers your question. Suffice to say that just as a scientific view of the world makes a god unnecessary, a scientific view of the world make social constructivism (postmodern creationism) unnecessary. We can explain the world without resorting to magic or conspiracies.

P.S. Reminder: social constructivism is a social construct.

#ask #gender is a social construct #social constructivism #gender stereotypes #sex based differences #sex differences #religion is a mental illness

[3lectra-he4rt]

hi electra. tis i. crepe. please rank kai adam and mira. and no wishy washy. im watching you.

this one was hard. had to put on their playljst for thsi one.

DISCLAIMER: I LOVE TBEM ALL SO INCREDIBLY MUCH.

So for no.3 we’re going with 🥁🥁🥁 ADAM!!

I love him so dearly but like. Outta the three of them i favor him least. But i love him. A lot.

No.2 is my QUEEN Mira

I LOVE LOVE LOVE Mira!!! I am a citizen of Mira Nation don’t get me wrong. But i also got dual citizenship of Kai Kingdom 😭🙏

So Kai is no.1!! Idk what it is abt him i js love him so much. My favorjte pasttime is making lil Kai-centric fics in my head. The only problem is i can’t draw boys, so..

[bridgeportbritt]

What is your country’s national animal?

Hi Sarah! This is a great question that I actually haven't thought about before. So I looked up animal symbolism and found the perfect animal - The Horse!

Horses are the symbol for Freedom and with SimDonia's history of revolting against the dictatorship, it seemed like a perfect match! Horses were used in the revolution as many of the rebellion were farmers and other working folk.

I've also mentioned that Diana had a love for horses when she was younger brough on by his father, Parker, who had the love for horses passed down from his father. She used to ride until her father got sick. After her father's death, the stables at Willington Palace were soon removed and their horses sold off as it was too painful to engage in a pasttime shared with Parker.

But, Spencer recently built some stables and owns a couple horses. So Diana is reliving her love for riding! She's found that it actually makes her feel closer to her dad. So there you have it!

#bb asks #thanks for the ask!!! #did I create this scene just for this ask? #the answer is yes #and it was worth it #lol #worldbuilding

[marroniere]

fic: strength of heart (tenderness of the soul), thranto, NSFW, WIP

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Thrawn/Eli Vanto

Word count: 140,499 words so far (5000-word chapters are posted twice a week, 32 chapters overall)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, mpreg, Thrawn dealing with his traumatic past

Excerpt:

They come to the Seekers' Shadehouse—or the Ardok ranch, as it is listed on the map—the day before the sky-walkers are supposed to be here. It is a long aircar ride from the nearest spaceport. Thrawn notices how Eli marvels at the Ool nature. It is the end of summer here, and the trees are vivid blue and dark purple. Now and then, the aircar passes spike-apple gardens. Ool spike-apples, especially the coral and gold ones, are considered the best in the Ascendancy. Thrawn, however, prefers the smaller, pale pink ones. They are not as sweet, and the juice does not drip on everything around you.

Where spike-apples fall on the ground, they are swallowed up by thick, emerald green grass with occasional purple streaks. The gardens in the aircar window turn into saari fields, oceans of pearly pink. Eli, a man who has seen many worlds and can hardly be surprised by anything, is glued to the window, like a child.

“I have not seen you this excited for a long time,” Thrawn says.

Eli turns to Thrawn, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Would be cool to move here, don’t you think?” he asks. “One day. When all this shit is over.”

“I would prefer to stay on Naporar,” Thrawn says. “The Stybla homestead has one of the best schools in the Ascendancy. Larass will go there.”

Eli’s facial heat jumps up, suddenly.

“No, I mean—”

He sighs.

“When we’re both old and cranky and tired of Naporar. I think this is the perfect place for me to be that old Lysatran man with a blaster rifle. Sitting on a porch. Drinking my k’haito.”

Some things, Thrawn notes mentally with amusement, are the same even on those worlds that could not be more different. Porch-sitting, a popular Lysatran pasttime, has almost become a national sport on certain backwater planets of the Ascendancy. The Chiss, competitive as they are, approach it as an endurance test—who can stay in a rocking chair for the longest time.

“When we’re both old,” Eli says, and Thrawn wants to correct, “If we ever grow old.” They are both warriors, first and foremost. Warriors do not die of old age.

Then he reminds himself that he has every reason to strive to achieve that. He wants to grow old with Eli. He also wants to see the man Larass will become.

Eli’s jacket does a good job of hiding the sidearm. Thrawn’s charric is hidden in the same backpack with all the other things that Thrawn packed just in case. A set of particularly loose and soft pajamas. Super-absorbent pads. A water spray. Strong pain inhibitors. Bacta. Disposable underwear. Baby clothes and diapers. One green pacifier.

Anticipating everything is Thrawn’s habit.

#thranto #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #eli vanto #mitth'raw'nuruodo

[hwsforeignrelations]

As a hobby sketchbooker, its a favorite pasttime to go chronologically through old sketchbooks and note improvement. Im gonna supplement the rant below with old art, cuz its relevant and i think they're neat

I accidentally deleted my old tumblr like five months ago which held a similar sentiment (*SOB* but no use crying over split milk)

I see a lot of fan artists getting burnt out. I see a lot of Hetalia artists stay for a bit, then leave for other fandoms (higher pastures, if u will). I use to not understand. How did people become bored so fast?!?!

Ive never been one to switch interests quickly. I was solidly leg deep in my superhero phase 5-8th grade. I started reading exclusively usuk fanfics in 8th grade, and have hardly ventured beyond usuk.

I'm trying to branch out more.

Hetalia is unique in its ability to teach crash course history and have enemy soldiers devouring each others cocks in the same paragraph. Double win!! The concept of international relations translated to human ones, of a nations pain having physical embodiment, of fantastically diverse headcanons dissecting the intrigues of Nation biology... Its all very yummy thinking food

Ive never read the manga, ive hardly watched the show. Im fandom built thru and thru!

Like the pic above, I use usuk as experiments to run all my ideas thru. Mix media,

World building, swatching, expressions and unfamiliar subjects. Theyre my go-to! since I started taking art seriously in 2021 and those events were mainly usuk themed

my styles always changing, and I'm usually using America and England to do it

Combined with writing and a poor conceptual understanding of base material (aka CANON) i have trouble knowing WHO alfred and england are, in my style. They're constantly changing designs make it hard for my writing to capture their characters consistently.

I get so fixated on solving my own inconsistent characterization writing. Its stupid! Im going to college across the country in ten days, for Christ's sake!

Its no use getting worked up over an inconsistent style- this IS the period of constant change, of constant growth and its great fun processing new interests through art, through two characters i am familiar with (even if i somehow don't know them at all)

Ive been reading stories about the royal navy: so i practice some made up naval uniform on england! That's just an example - i really do process new information through them, finding fun in research

Once i couldn't stop thinking about the scene below, about the intrigue of gore (a genre id never taken an interest to). And i was cringing about doing it to myself (about how ouchi it would be), but like all my creative ideas j filter them through characters - it feels safer that way. Then drawing myself in there. Yuck.

So i practice the idea in Alfred. "Oh ouch yup- looks just as gross and painful and I'd imagined. Perfect!!" Now ive got an Alfred doing this gross thing, now i have a headcanon about nations cleaning their tongues witn razors.

Now i wanna write about it. Haha its all a very self-feeding pattern.

Not sure if this rant makes much sense, but basically i STRUGGLE to establish characters. Partially because i play so much with them in my doodles with anything and everything i find interesting - perhaps it makes too many factors for one character.

#.txt #this literally... makes no sense im sk sorry if u read it TT #just a bunch of thoughts ive had #looking for advice ig #idk if this is a common issue but i can't imagine its THAT unusual??? ? TT plz?