The Populace At Large Thinks I’m Crazy Probably

literally move over oblivion remaster, THIS is the most important TES release of the year

If you were looking for a reason to get back into Morrowind: Tamriel Rebuilt's latest expansion, Grasping Fortune, has released!

all the people criticizing Vance for “not being a good enough catholic” need to get a fucking grip. there are SO MANY THING to criticize Vance and every member of that administration for which aren’t “he’s not good at being a cult member”

“Let it be recorded in 2E 565 that all the trolls fucked”

Bro I just wanted to figure out my OCs timeline

Jim Hacker: You mean to tell me that when the chips are down, you’re on my side, not Humphrey’s?

Bernard Woolley: Minister, it’s my job to see that the chips stay up.

I believe that Kirkbride’s original idea for the Bosmer (as he outlined in the concept art you’re referencing (no, I don’t know why it’s a nexus link, that’s the only place I could find the version with his notes))

https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/110/images/105701/105701-1606858796-124772823.png

was the male and female bosmer represented two different sides of our fairy myths. The women are the ethereally beautiful, good (or at least noble), fae (descended from the gods of Celtic myth); Titania, the Tuatha de Danann, the Leannán Sídhe (Tolkien’s elves also are a deliberate reference to these fae) - while the men are the little, sometimes evil, or at least trickster, fairies that we find more in medieval stories; Puck, the Fomorians, coblynau, pixies, boggarts, kobolds, etc.

to put it another way: the women are goddesscore and the men are rodentpilled

Also, for what it’s worth, Kirkbride wrote that the men have “lost their power of glamour”, so it could be that women are also ugly, they just use magic to conceal their appearance. Which is also very fae.

You know what bugs me? Bosmer males. Look, idk how ESO does things, but from Morrowind to Oblivion they seem to be the butt of a joke that just says, aren't short men with squeaky voices funny and juvenile and stupid and ripe for mockery? (Fargoth, Gaenir, Glarthir, The Adoring Fan. I don't remember any Bosmer in Skyrim, but then I haven't played Skyrim since like 2015.) Plus there's that old lore about how the Bosmeri women are hot and the men are not, and frankly, fuck that. Where the short king Bosmer at? (Please share any cool Bosmeri male OCs with me.)

worst subreddit of ever award goes to r/polcompballanarchy I think

in which we have wonderful microcelebrities such as:

u/syndicalistic, a (possibly transfem) left-wing fascist.

u/thascynd, a “reactionary monarcho-tribalist anacap” who wants to return to pre-Colombian society but extremely racist this time

u/vanguard_hippie, an eco-anarchist who also believes in creating a hedonistic ecologist aristocracy

and more!

animal crossing lottienat n old doodles

Except you’re not “just some guy”. Uriel Septim directly calls you - not Martin, you - a Hero.

“In your face I behold the sun’s companion” (or perhaps, the *son’s* companion).

“You are the one from my dreams.”

“The gods placed you here so that we may meet.”

“You are our only hope to stem the blood tide.”

“This burden is now yours alone. You hold our future in your hands.”

Uriel is explicit in the fact that you are the hero who will save Tamriel. The Nerevarine is less prophesied than this, and they have a whole prophesy named after them!

something fantastic about the opening of oblivion where the emperor asserts the hok's position within a prophecy and we assume its for us. we're the main character, of course, why wouldnt we be this legendary figure like the nerevarine was

and then jauffre immediately informs us upon meeting him that the emperor's son was hidden away at the moment of his birth. the implication that maybe two or three decades ago the emperor knew of the prophecy and acted decades ahead to ensure it's fulfilment through martin. and then you travel to kvatch, and its destroyed because of martin, who is the last of the dynasty, who dagon has been hunting all along. not you, but him, and then you realise that martin has always been the prophesied one, the legendary figure touched by the gods - and you were just the Guy in the cell afterall

just spent half an hour sitting perfectly still while two cis girls told me I wasn’t allowed to have rights or thoughts or ambitions and my only purpose was to look pretty & be seen and not heard <3 literally the hottest experience of my life

this is adorable I love her :)

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could crochet me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.