#For really real money

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

The long-awaited school break

Idea from Blue Archive short dj

[cozylittleartblog]

i got an alien aisha from a fountain faerie quest 🥺 i named her cosmica...

[acentrics]

COMMISSIONS OPEN!

Currently open for simple character commissions with simple backgrounds in the style shown above. Payment is requested through paypal invoice.

here's a form to fill out if you're interested, you can also email me at acentricinquiries@gmail.com ^_^

more examples below:

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I've gotta admit, the take that Ed and Stede are "running away" from their problems at the end of s2 absolutely baffles me.

The thesis statement of this show, as we know, is "a lot of the things we are taught about being a man are wrong." Harmful ideas of what it means to be a man are at the core of Ed and Stede's issues with themselves: Stede struggle to feel like as much of a man despite loving softer things, Ed's feeling forced into a hyper-masculine caricature of himself. These are the core problems at the heart of these characters, obviously there's more to it but when you boil it down that's what we're working with. This is why Stede's trying to live up the ideal pirate image in s2e7 is important; he's getting a taste of what he thought he wanted so he can choose to leave it behind for what's really important. Ed, too, is still struggling at the end of the season with figuring out who Ed is, once he can break free from the Blackbeard persona.

What would be solved by sailing away, planning to continue as pirates at the end of s2? How would that be addressing their problems or helping them live more authentically? Ed has wanted to leave piracy since we met him, and yes, Stede enjoys piracy, but the idea that piracy is the true and right end-state for him is a very basic reading of the text I think.

Ed and Stede making the decision to try building a life together in their new shack isn't running away from their problems - it's Stede prioritizing Ed over a life of piracy, because piracy isn't what he wanted in the first place. He wanted to be a part of something, he wanted to marry for love, he wanted to be appreciated for who he is. It's Ed finally realizing in the finale that he can use violence as a tool to protect the people he loves, but he's also allowed to step away from it. Will the inn idea work out? Maybe. Maybe not. Who cares? It's not the inn that's important, really, it's that they're both choosing to commit to each other and taking this step towards living more authentically.

We already know exactly what "running away from their problems" would look like, and it's the plan Ed proposed in s1e9. He wanted to run away to China so their old lives could be "gone, dead, never were." Ed just wanted to forget about his past, and Stede was riddled with guilt - wherever they go, there they are. The difference between that plan at the end of s1 and Ed and Stede's new plan at the end of the s2 is, first of all, they're both all in and they know it, and, secondly, they're both getting a lot better at meeting themselves where they're at.

[aardvaark]

im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Do you think Wei wuxian listens to weezer?

I don't know...I don't know...I really don't know.....

[avatarfandompolice]

Said it before but the hating Toph and Lin becoming cops because “cops are corrupt” is null and void because neither Toph nor Lin are portrayed as corrupt. Lin even fights against police corruption in Book 1 of TLOK.

This isn’t even pro-cop, it’s just pro-understanding context. We don’t hate Sokka for becoming a politician, yet politicians in real life are really corrupt. We don’t hate Tenzin for being a spiritual leader even though dozens of notable spiritual leaders are corrupt and shady in real life. Why do we have the ability to separate their roles from real-life implications but not the Beifongs?

And the idea that “well, they HAVE to be doing corrupt stuff that we don’t see” is braindead. They’re fictional characters. What we see them doing is what we see them doing. Just assuming that Toph and/or Lin are committing police brutality and abusing their powers is 100% headcanon. They are only portrayed as doing what police are in theory supposed to do: uphold the law and protect people. Your real-life implications don’t apply.

[gasstationpopcorn]

youtube

[zeb-z]

see ok I don’t think it’s bad who stole the furniture because he didn’t go to f5 and zoom in on himself a billion times

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 14

Summary: You visit a grave as our story comes to an end.

Words: 1.9k

You wondered if Johnny had snuck into bed with you. He had done it the last time Simon was on watch and it had been admittedly sort of nice waking up bundled in him. He was pretty cute when he was sleepy. 

He hadn't, the warmth was from Dosia which was strange because these days she usually was either outside or cuddled up with Price if Simon wasn't around like the little traitor she was.

This was not Simon's bed.

–

“You've been through quite the ordeal! Can't believe you were in the forest all this time. Surprised you never came across our Firewatch, they live out there. Or they did I suppose.”

“I- sorry, what do you mean?”

“Didn't you ever notice that tower from your old place? It was a watchtower for wildfires, the men who ran it had a cabin out there as well. Shame about what happened.”

“The fire…”

“Ah last I heard between air support and the trucks coming in to help from all over it's looking like they have it contained, but these things tend to burn for days or weeks before we can really relax.”

“What about the men in the forest? What happened to them?”

The sheriff blinked at you.

“How exactly did you survive out there all this time?”

–

It wasn't as bad as it could have been was what people kept saying. The tower was gone, but the fire had never ripped through the town thanks to quick detection and action to contain it. 

In the span of six months you had lost your home to fire twice over. You were living out of the little bed and breakfast while paperwork was sorted. There was a lot of red tape involved in bringing someone back from the dead, although it was curious how much easier it was made by the sheriff having not properly filed the death certificate in the first place. You weren't as officially dead as you should have been. 

Everything would be wrapped up soon and then you didn't really know what you would do. You had money from the Insurance claim on your cottage (that had been a wild series of phone calls to increasingly senior people as you tried to explain that you were the owner who had perished in the fire), but you had no clue what to do with it. 

You knew you had been putting it off, but it was time to go visit the grave. Maybe then you'd figure it out.

–

It wasn't anything fancy, just a rustic headstone set in the ashes. Dosia wasn't super interested, instead going to rub up against your visitor. Wonders never ceased.

“Knew she'd come around eventually.”

“They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Does it?”

You glanced over at Kyle and your heart thumped. The last time you had seen him had been weeks ago when he was disappearing into smoke and embers.

“Yeah, yeah I think it does.”

You both stood and stared at the gravestone, Dosia's ears pricking before she took off towards the treeline. You weren't worried, you were pretty sure you knew who she was in a rush to see. She completely ignored the man walking towards you and Kyle on her way. 

“Ouch.”

“She still hasn't forgiven you for saying I should've got a dog you know.”

“Still think ye should swap her for one.”

“He cried when we thought she didn't make it out.”

“Away and biel yer heid Gaz.”

You had missed them. You had really, truly missed them. It was overwhelming being on your own after always having them around. You were angry a lot at little things like how difficult you found a busy shop now. They had done that to you. It didn't make your stupid feelings any less complicated. It didn't make you feel any less like kissing the new scar on Johnny's arm or the bruises healing on Gaz.

“So you buried your girl in the end huh?”

“A few weeks before the fire. We were planning on bringing you to see it.”

“This close to town? Bit risky no?”

“Aye, reckoned ye were worth the risk.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. It was a strange thing looking at your own grave. Why put it here to bring you to see it? To prove that they weren't holding you to some impossible dream girl standard anymore?

“Was supposed to be a birthday present, but we're a bit late now aren't we little bird?”

Price looked tired as he emerged from the treeline. It must have been an awful few weeks for him. There was still the remnants of the fire to be looked after incase it blazed up again. It had taken out the cabin and the tower, nothing left but smouldering wrecks and a nasty looking burn creeping up his neck. All of those drawings in Simon's room gone. You don't know why that was one of the things that made you the saddest.

“Didn't feel much like celebrating anyway” you answered truthfully. 

Your birthday had been 5 days after the fire and you had spent it for the most part staring into the void and napping. You hadn't felt like celebrating your new found freedom at all. 

“We did actually get you something. Still have it, if you'd like.”

You wondered what it was. As far as you knew nothing survived the fire. But they were just things and things didn't seem all that important anymore. Not when Simon finally joined you, a purring Dosia in his arms. He was slow due to a bad left leg it seemed like. 

“OK.”

Simon let Dosia down even though she was very reluctant to go so he could take something from around his neck. He handed you the corded necklace. It had a key on the end.

“Happy birthday sweetheart.”

“What's it for?”

“Havnae given it a name yet, thought we'd leave that for you tae do.”

“It's a 20 minute drive out the other side of town, just on the treeline.”

You stared at them. You knew what they were talking about. There was a crumbling cottage out there, you knew because you had considered buying it when you had first moved here but it was more expensive than the one you had went with and you couldn't afford it. You had completely forgotten it was there.

“Hope you don't mind sweetheart, but we took the liberty of getting the electrical work done.”

“And the roof, sorry luv I know you're a good roofer but my heart cannot take watching you do that again.”

“Tae be fully honest the whole thing is already done. Got a wee bit carried away.”

All those trips into town. The way they'd come back looking tired. They had been building you a home. 

“But… no wait, that's not… you were going to let me go?”

“Couldn't keep you in a cage forever little bird.”

“You'd have gotten arrested!”

“Would we aye? For what?”

“For kidnapping me!”

“Funny thing sweetheart, nobody in town is talking about the fire because they're too busy talking about the miracle girl. Apparently survived months in the forest on her own, told the sheriff she was quite the survivalist.”

“Yeah well! You! I!” you huffed, trying to come up with any reason that you had lied that didn't sound like “I love you”. “It was a cooler story.”

They laughed and it made you smile. You couldn't do it in the end. They were not bad men, you couldn't tell the truth knowing it would see them punished and put away. When you didn't know if they were dead or alive it had brought your feelings a stunning clarity. You had fallen stupidly in love with them. 

“So what's next?”

“Don't know honestly. We're camping out and keeping an eye on things. Once the danger has passed we rebuild” Price said, hand massaging at his shoulder.

“I'm pretty handy with a hammer.”

“Yeah?”

“Suppose I could help out” you offered, fighting to keep the stupid grin off of your face as you held up the key  “after all my cottage is pretty nearby right? And this guy is going to be useless with that leg.”

“Watch it sweetheart, my teeth are still intact.”

–

John liked to joke that you would combust if you didn't have a project. Once the cabin was rebuilt (5 bedrooms, incase they had visitors obviously) you helped where you could with the tower, once that was done you wanted to redo the kitchen in the cottage, after that you talked him into taking in an abandoned dog (honestly very easy what with you and Kyle both giving your best puppy dog eyes). Dosia surprisingly seemed to enjoy the new addition, bullying the german shepherd into doing whatever she wanted. The pair of them mostly came and went as they wanted between the cottage and the cabin, thriving running wild in the forest in between. 

Simon tried to get you into football which you sort of did. You had no interest in the big games, but you'd both go and cheer on the local team when they had home games. Inevitably you both looked a mess having gotten into a bit of a paint fight when you had insisted Simon have a little flag on his cheek. You threatened to de-fang him at least once a week. Both Dosia and Riley were absolutely in love with him which both you and Johnny sulked about. You thought maybe, for Riley at least, that Simon felt safe. His leg never quite healed right so he was more cautious and slow moving now, something you thought she might find comforting. 

When Johnny wasn’t grumbling about the animals wanting nothing to do with him, he was whining at you to not get out of bed. You had never met a lazier creature than John MacTavish on a duvet day, he just wanted to cuddle and watch movies. When he was on a hyper day he wanted to redecorate which almost always ended in a fight because you disagreed on what would look good. Everytime a big video game release rolled around the two of you (and sometimes Gaz depending on the game) would just hole up for a weekend and do nothing but play. Luckily Price indulged you and usually kept you fed and watered. 

Kyle had only been half kidding about making a fire fighter out of you. It started as therapy really, a way to try and control the nightmares. He took the lead in teaching you about all the equipment, letting you observe drills and even buying you custom fitted kit. While you never did want to be near a fire again, you learned to be less scared of the idea, you learned to believe that you would know what to do if anything happened. When you hadn't panicked at a little bin fire in your cottage and instead had just dealt with it, you had showed up at the cabin bursting with excitement to tell them. 

The Firewatch went from 4 to 5. You enjoyed it, the peace and quiet and the stars as you sipped hot chocolate and looked out onto the forest. You didn’t really know what the future held for you, but against all odds you had found a family and you were well and truly happy. And if sometimes you found yourself looking through the binoculars just to check on said family, you figured that was just karma.

[bunnymothmartyr]

"how do i deal with my bpd friend" call them the most fallen of angels and give them 50 bucks it is actually not that hard.

[wuntrum]

mentioned maybe switching to something in tech career-wise to my therapist and he told me someone he knows who got a certification in cyber security w/o any other schooling and 2 years later is now making 300k/year working from home. grits teeth

[sciderman]

As another blog who accidentally got following for funny jokes and content creator by god you summarized how creating content feels on Tumblr nowadays. Like,

No one interacts but at the same time they'll complain that there's no updates, they'll complain that you disappeared but even if you post something no one interacts with. They treat as if people who post things about fandom are just there to be some kind of machine will post something to make them laugh and then reblog in silence.

There's no feedback, there's no community, and it feels weird like some kind of big brother. Where you spend your time and energy making something and then people throw you a like and you're just like blind??? 'Do they still like it?' 'am I doing it wrong?' 'did I lose the flow?' But nope. It seems like every person who makes something in this plataforma feels a different variation of that. And feels so weird talking about it as if you're 'seeking attention' and being too 'hungry' about it. But what are we supposed to do...? Just put our heart and souls by a grand majority that won't take a second to say something and just like and maybe reblog as if you're some advertisement?

Feels weird. I am sorry you feel like that too Sci, your ask-blog is great and you spent a lot of energy co-creating with people and using your creativity. I don't blame you for feeling demotivated. That's a weird era to be in where people don't know how to differentiate that there's someone behind a blog and nor a major corporation that will put something they're interacting or not. Very weird.

it's so very universal, i've seen it all the places, everywhere. i know it's not just a me thing... it's kind of honestly just the way the world operates now. running the blog really did used to give me such an excited feeling to be building this story with other people who were invested and everyone had a hand in pushing wade and peter into all kinds of directions and it was so, so gratifying. and when i left i was still craving that interaction - i wanted to create an interactive instagram account, but i kind of figured it wouldn't work, because the platform just isn't good for it.

something that's largely been absent from my life is community, y'know. it's so difficult to find it, in the city. and i kind of found it through the blog. but online communities feel like something that's dying too. nobody wants to be communal. i've had so many interactions where people are taken aback that i'm just some dumb, tired little human. i'm a tired human who made spider-man comics because it got me friends on the internet. i don't make money doing this. i do it for friends. i... sighs. i miss so many people that used to be around but they're not here anymore. i miss how it used to feel. i don't think i can get it back. i don't know where i can look now, but i don't think i'm going to find whatever i'm looking for here. i guess it's like - i know i have to leave the city because the city makes me feel small and lonely. and maybe i have to leave the internet too. it makes me feel small and lonely.

[pastelsnakeyy]

All I want is to drink boba tea and hold his hand, but god hates me by making him far away and lil treats cost money

[camels-pen]

consider sanuso bodyswap where Sanji is of course "admiring" Usopp's body and Usopp is trying desperately to keep himself from getting worked up so that he doesn't light himself on fire.

Luffy and Chopper are not helping. They are in fact doing the opposite of helping. They've ramped up their pranks and are doing anything possible to get Usopp angry so that he combusts, freaks out, and then dives into the ocean to put himself out. They think it's hilarious.

Nami and Brook are Also not helping, since they're conspiring with Sanji to put on a fashion show with Usopp's body. Sanji called it "not wasting a precious opportunity to get him in something other than overalls". Usopp called it mutiny and he was gonna- dive into the ocean, holy fuck Sanji why is it so easy to catch fire?!

Best part about this is that Sanji assured him, several times, that his body doesn't get hurt by catching fire. Usopp still jumps into the ocean every time.

Robin pipes up at one point, asking if Sanji was immune to just his own flames or all flames. Sanji just kind of shrugs and said it depends. Franky, having just been leisurely watching all of this gets an idea. Would his Franky Fireball hurt Sanji's body or just give him more fire to work with?

He tries to coax Usopp into agreeing to test it out and, somehow, he manages it. Albeit, Usopp is all knocking knees and chattering teeth, a very odd sight from 'Sanji'. As part of the deal though, he can only shoot a fireball the size of his hand.

Usopp meant his small hand. The one Franky used for tinkering and fine detail work. He did not, however, clarify this.

So, when a fireball the size of Franky's big hand comes out, well. Usopp runs for his goddamn life.

It takes him a few moments- and the voices of his friends sounding distant and below him- to realize he hadn't, in fact, run to the men's quarters, but rather into the fucking sky.

And oooooh, boy he is gonna kill Sanji one of these days. Why was his body's first fucking instinct when running to go up, what the actual HELL-

Usopp lit himself on fire again.

He curses out Sanji as his Sky Walk fails in the same moment and he plummets towards the deck.