#I have many loud feelings

[doublegoblin]

Man, Astarion got the short end of the stick as far as good endings go.

So I was on a walk and talking with the partner about BG3 (because good gamer very fun) with an emphasis on how the (arguably) poster boy of the game really kinda got screwed over.

This is going to involve some VERY HEAVY spoilers for the game so I will be putting the rest under the cut petals~

So I won't go too in depth because time on earth is limited and I'd rather not write an entire dissertation so I'll try and keep this brief and to the point. Also this is only going over the "good" endings for the Origin characters.

So huzzah you defeated the Nether Brain! Good job Tav or Whoever! We are all bathing in the setting sunlight! Oh no! Astarion no longer has his tadpole and is burning in the sun! Aaaaand he's ran off.

Wait what?

Yeah here's my issue with this ending. Everyone else, while maybe a tragic ending (see Karlach), gets one that is full of some hope at least! You have Shart overcoming her brainwashing and learning to live for herself. Lae'zel going off to fight a fascistic lich-queen, Wyll out of his contract (without DYING) and finally being able to tell his dad the truth, Gale no longer worried about the bomb in his chest and fufilling his (shitty fucked up) misson to Mythra, Karlach is in Avernus again yes but she isn't alone (either with you or Wyll) and is taking charge of her own life, Halsin saved the shadow-cursed lands and reunites with his best friend, Jaheira reunited with Minsc who is no longer a statue! Hells even Durge gets something nice in becoming their own person!

And poor Astarion, like I know you can't cure vampirism (I could go on how there should have been a counterpart to the ascended ending for him where maybe not cure but help), runs away and becomes alone again (unless you romance him but c'mon man that won't be everyone's play-through) losing all the connections and found family he has made. Like this guy was juuuuust on the cusp of having something he hadn't had in over 200 years, friends and some positive influences in his life and it is snatched away.

Like I thought I did something WRONG when that scene started playing! And like, yes, he is wasn't the greatest of guys when you meet up but can you blame him? Like this man has had to endure 200 years of no true freewill of his own, his body literally being puppeteered by the whims of his Pimp. He became a monster to survive. Does this make up for his past deeds though? Hells fucking no. But, like, he was on the road to not redemption but rehabilitation.

Idk like I said I want to keep this short but damn, he is the ONE character to not have an ending with even a crumb of hope.

ALSO WE CAN JUST STAY IN BALDUR'S GATE AND HIT HIM UP, WE KNOW WHERE HE LIVED! Also like, you've made good with the Guild, you can have that favor and figure out where the guy is...just so he doesn't have to lose the few people who he may care about.

Okay okay now I'm good. Trust me though, THIS is short compared to the thoughts I was having and very loudly proclaiming on our walk. I know a lot of the nuance is being lost by keeping this short but yeah. Bleh, they did my stupid sexy vampire dirty and he earned a smidge of hope imo.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[moonkhao]

#this was a boss move™ 

ONLY FRIENDS | Ep 6

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[sergle]

I don't disagree w this person's tags in general BUT!! my thought: it's almost even better that way- the fact that she CHOSE to be fat and that wasn't even her default appearance. like that she could choose to look any type of way, and that's what she picked.

[samarecharm]

People who really like shuake also seem to write themselves into a corner wrt Akechi and his relationship to Akiras team. Contrary to popular belief, the team, including Haru, does not hate Akechi. At worst, they tolerate him and deal with his attitude. Hes a good teammate and respectable fighter and the team recognizes that at the end of the day, he was a teenager who was manipulated and abused by a man who saw him as disposable. Just about every thief understands this intimately. They have the same mindset wrt adults who take advantage of the people beneath them. Under different circumstances they wouldve been friends. And if u approach it from that angle, it becomes less about Akechi being the sole person who ‘gets’ Akira, and more about the thieves being the only people in the world who ‘get’ Akechi.

When you expand your thoughts to include the thieves as members of his Team and not roadblocks that get in the way of your ideal shipping dynamic, you allow urself to give Akechi and Akira more depth and nuance to their own relationship.

Akira and Akechi are wildcards; both of them struggle with the face they choose to display to the world. Its the first time Akira interacts with someone who is, at a literal, technical level, his ‘equal’. But Akechi is one of many firsts for Akira yeah? Every thief has their bond with Akira thats completely unique and personal. Akechi will never be the person who witnesses Akiras Awakening, hes never the person who watches Akira have his restless nights alone in the attic, and hes never the person who realizes in real time that the teenager hes housing is just Some Kid, not the delinquent hes been warned about. Hes not Ann or Yusuke, or any of the thieves; he doesnt have the time or experience that they have with Akira, and I think its interesting to explore that part of their relationship, shippy or not.

Akechi is someone who is incredibly lonely and self depreciating despite his cockiness and attitude. He has no positive bonds to speak of save for his connection with Sae. To have him see a team that works together and cares for each other, how do you think he would feel? Out of place? Inferior in some way? Angry about how hes been alone for so long in this single minded quest for revenge? Wouldnt that be a point of struggle between the two of them? I think what makes shuake good for me is knowing that Akechi needs alot of time to heal, and the thieves would want to help with that process. They do it bc they care, bc Akira cares, and bc they trust Akiras opinion (and he trusts theirs in return); if Akira feels like Akechi is someone who can be trusted Now after everything thats happened, then the thieves would do their best to help. And how would Akechi feel about that? Angry about the show of pity? That even now, he has no real say in what happens to him? Or begrudgingly grateful that they are cordial with him? Because they do care, he KNOWS they care, they care TOO MUCH actually; but the one thing he values over brawn and wits is honesty- fighting for what you believe in without having to use soft words to justify it.

[alluralater]

kinda want to start a text post series about the things i've learned/experienced being biracial.

for instance, when i was little i was fortunate enough to have spent plenty of time with my great grandmother in south carolina. she was fully black and she taught me about my heritage, my lineage, where we come from and how we survived as long as we did through slavery and the civil rights movement. one afternoon while at her house she asked me to come sit with her. when i did she seemed hesitant, like she wanted to tell me something but wasn't sure how to do so. i asked her if she needed me to fix her oxygen line and she replied no. it was a long minute or two that passed just sitting there on the couch next to her before she abruptly began telling me what it was like for her growing up.

i had known this particular information already and was prepared to tell her (she was in her 90s and sometimes would forget certain conversations) but then she started telling me what it was like for those she knew that were of mixed descent and the crimes perpetrated against people like me by white people as well as other black people. i will absolutely not be talking about those stories on here because of how graphic and scary they are but i will tell you what she told me afterwards.

she said she was afraid for me. she said that i was loud and outspoken and it was a fine line which i needed to be careful walking. she told me it would have been better if i'd been born black instead, or even just white passing, because my ambiguity put me at risk.

'you won't fit in anywhere. people don't like what they don't understand.'

my great grandmother was a wonderful woman and her fear was held similarly to that of my parents and grandparents. she told me it would be worse as a woman, that my brother would have an easier time because white people would like him and his blackness was less questionable because he was a boy. and she was right of course but i didn't understand why it mattered then. unfortunately i was hurt by many as well as bullied constantly growing up for my looks but i kept that to myself for the most part.

my great grandmother told me i was lucky that i was pretty, because being pretty and sweet might save me. she told me about how she felt when my older sister was born, how angry she was with my dad for having children with a white woman and creating "abominations." that word among others i heard a lot as a child from plenty of people whether strangers or family. she said she hated the idea of us at first but then loved us— me. she had realized most of her hatred was rooted in her fear for what could happen based on the things she knew of and saw in her own experience, on top of things that had happened to her. my dad had previously had a few conversations with me asking if i'd been bullied at school at all for being biracial and i always told him no and lied because i didn't want him to worry. my great grandmother explained to me that it was better to use my cuteness, tone down my intelligence when in the presence of anyone that was not like me, and be careful. she said that i would never be black enough to be accepted fully because i would always be seen as something else, and i would never be seen as white because i didn't look it. i hugged her carefully so as not to pull the tube from her nose. i didn't feel offended by anything she said. the shake in her voice was enough to show me how painful it was for her to say. she loved me and while she said i would have a better life than she did because the world was changing, it would be more lonely.

being biracial i have learned to fit in everywhere and yet still, i fit in almost nowhere. i was a dirt poor kid that wore the same few outfits to school as a child because my mom worked three jobs and barely had enough money for gas let alone new clothes or extra gas to go to a donation center for anything new. i shared a single room with my four siblings and my mom for a long time. while other people were learning to accept their identities and navigate the world accordingly, i was learning to be quiet and blend into the background, not make too much noise in front of the wrong audience, feigning stupidity when people began to see me as a threat as i aged out of the 'cute mixed toddler' category. i was learning to be a mother to my siblings and protect them from a world that hated us. being biracial meant learning that i was seen as entertaining, looked at in the same way as a selectively bred puppy. i learned that i was fetishized by many for my looks and simultaneously looked down on for them. i learned that grown men considered me attractive in a sexual sense because of my mixed looks and had no problem telling me or acting on that. i learned that white women hated me but envied me, cherry picking which attributes they loved about me most and disregarding all others. i learned that being biracial was always about proving myself, justifying my existence to those who wouldn’t accept me fully regardless, fearing the intentions of people who wanted to be with me or have me alone. i learned that many people expected me to pick a side, choose one half of myself and leave the other behind, as if i am not already in existence held together by the parts of my heritage that created me from halves to whole.

being biracial and not passing on either side was and can be very lonely. there were many years as a child that i thought life would be easier if i weren't alive. attempting to find community when you are always seen as 'other' was hard. thankfully when i moved here i met more people like me, and my great grandmother was right. the sense of community i have with people who share experiences like mine is similar to no other. i can be myself, my entire self. i'm black and i'm white, but i am biracial. one day i’ll have to share this information with my children, and even though it pains me to recall these experiences among thousands of others, i understand now why my great grandmother and other family members were so worried for my safety and my quality of life. my experience as a biracial woman specifically is something i don't really ever talk about on here in depth because i have community to have these conversations with irl thankfully and do often, but it matters to me and i'd like to talk about it more.

anyways thank you for reading <3

[myriam-draws]

some starfires i’ve drawn a bit over time i miss her (i refuse to read titans 2023)

[ingravinoveritas]

So delighted to see that The Assembly has been nominated for 2024 TV Moment of the Year--in particular, the moment where a young man named Leo asks Michael a question.

I remember watching this at the time and thinking how moving and important it was that Michael created space for Leo in that moment. It made me think of one of the things I first came to love about Michael--that his efforts to bring awareness to various causes and issues are not for the purpose of elevating his own voice, but providing a platform for the voices of others. For autistic and neurodivergent people, our voices are often not heard, and I love that Michael didn't have someone else speak for Leo or try to push Leo to speak before he was ready. He wasn't frustrated or pressed or urging the producers to move on to the next question. Michael just gave Leo time, and a place to share his own voice.

Click here to vote for The Assembly as 2024's TV Moment of the Year.

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[antiadvil]

How bad is it that every time Dan and Phil do something incredibly married (joint Instagram posts) I go wait this is such a good idea I should start doing this with my besties. Why was my aquarium post not a joint post??? What am I doing??

[tennessoui]

Obikin body swap idea: getting to see how the other half lives. Anakin just being super flustered by the idea that when he touches himself he's touching his master even for innocent things like running his fingers through his hair or getting to touch his beard.

Meanwhile Obi-Wan is trying to cope with how overstimulating Anakin's connection to the force is and even the best shields only dampen it slightly. Inner peace? He doesn't know her.

ooo i feel like when we talk about obikin body swap, this is always what we go with (overwhelmed by his master's body! anakin and overwhelmed by how anakin experiences the force! obi-wan), and it's good it's great i think these are great interpretations of the characters and i can see why it's such a popular take on obikin body swap

so what if that but also:

anakin overwhelmed by how little time obi-wan actually has to himself and how busy he is and him realizing that it's not that obi-wan purposefully doesn't spend as much time with him as he wants it's that obi-wan's body walks down a corridor and two younglings want him to give them a sparring demonstration, four Council meetings are scheduled, and one archives padawan is coming incessantly wanting to ask if he's ready for book club this week because she has thoughts on the last chapter

+

obi-wan unused to how strong he feels, how easy the Force suddenly is to manipulate; sure it's loud and i have a soft spot for that sort of headcanon about how anakin experiences the force, but i think we can't forget it wouldn't just just be overstimulating for anakin: it makes him powerful as fuck. obi-wan feels tired and the mechno arm hurts and it's straining his shoulder so he decides to use the force to call his datapaad over from its charging spot, but it zooms over so fast it shatters on impact with the wall

+

anakin overwhelmed by the new and unfamiliar aches and pains of obi-wan's body, the way he hurts when he wakes up, the way long space travel makes him feel sick and stiff

+

obi-wan realizing how persistent the chancellor is when it comes to comming and meeting anakin for lunch--oh lunch won't work what about tea oh tea won't work what about opera----

+

anakin trying spicy food for the first time in obi-wan's body and he's.... actually fine???? cue realizing that obi-wan was just pretending when he was younger to not like spicy food the bastard. (upon confrontation, obi-wan says, 'well it just seemed to mean so much to you on a personal level that i wouldn't be able to handle the heat of tatooinian food, i didn't want to disappoint you but you should really try stewjoni cuisine')

+

obi-wan realizing quite quickly that uh. anakin was not ever faking his very low alcohol tolerance

[tea-time-terrier]

The mortifying ordeal of your training gaps no longer being manageable <3

[stars-and-guts]

i saw this as a post on twitter but it kind of is a canon event for tsukasa tenma to be your pookie at least a little bit

even if the other types of characters the pjsk fan likes are so unlike tsukasa check their carrd or strawpage and there he is

or like even if he doesnt trump your favorites you still think hes silly

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye