#you can not tell me differently

[thepickledmermaid]

A Halsin fanart piece over on twitter inspired me to write this…. Just a little Drabble set far in the future of the BG3 fanfic I’m working on. Enjoy ☺️

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Halsin’s ears twitched in the direction of his study’s entrance. He’d heard the patter of little feet long before the little voice attached to them called out to him. He looked up from the papers he’d been bent over for the last few hours and gave the small girl peeking out from the doorway a bemused smile.

“What are you doing out of bed, little one?” he asked gently as he took the pipe from his lips.

“I can’t sleep,” the child replied, shuffling barefoot a little further into the room. “Will you tell me a bedtime story please?”

Halsin leaned back in his chair a bit while chuckling, “Surely you’re not going to claim your mother hasn’t already told you one?”

“She read one from a fairytale book,” the child grumbled, folding her arms in an adorable stubborn pout “I wanna hear a real story.”

“And how do you know those aren’t real stories?” Halsin teased. “I happen to have it on very good authority that fairies are quite real.”

Amber brown eyes fixed him with an exasperated look.  “Paapaaa!” She whined.

Halsin laughed and set his pipe down on its holder. He leaned over and opened one of the desk drawers, withdrawing a worn leather bound book from it. Turning back towards the child, Halsin held out a hand to her, “One story. Then it’s off to bed with you, My Joy. Lest your mother find you missing again and scolds the both of us.”

A large smile spread across the girl’s face before all but running to jump into Halsin’s arms. The Arch Druid scooped her up effortlessly and propped her on his lap. The child nuzzled herself into the crook of his arm before laying her head down on his chest to get comfortable. She pulled the well loved stuffed bear she’d been holding closer and stuck her thumb in her mouth, waiting for her papa to start.

“Now then. Which one would you like to hear?” he asked, holding the book open with one hand. The little girl reached out and turned several of the pages until she found one the was covered in almost as many sketches as it was words.

“I like this one,” she said, pulling her thumb out of her mouth just enough for Halsin to understand her.

Halsin hummed in approval, “An excellent selection, My Joy,” he smiled. “Ready?”

Halsin felt the little girl nod against his chest, her thumb already back in her mouth.

“Alright then…. It’s been several weeks since we arrived back in this terrible place. The grip of the shadow curse remains unwavering as ever but my new companions have given me something I haven’t dared to entertain in over a century…. Hope….”

The little girl felt her eyelids start to droop as the low rumbling of her papa’s voice wove her a tale of magic and heroes. Papa always told the best stories. Her favorite part was when the silly wizard starts yelling about spider butts. Papa always did funny voices for that part so she didn’t want to miss it… or the part about the Angel! That part was good too.

She was getting kind of sleepy though… maybe she’d just close her eyes for a little bit until he got to those parts….

Halsin continued to read until he felt the child go slack. He glanced down to make sure his willful little wildflower was actually asleep this time and smiled to find her softy snoring face first into her bear. Now if he could just get her back up to bed before…

“Why am I not surprised?”

Halsin’s hazel eyes snapped up to see his love leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a mirthful smirk on her lips as she surveyed the two. Halsin tried to look remorseful but they both knew his guilty grin was just as much of a lie as her disapproving stare.

“In my defense she asked very politely this time,” the large elf said.

“I’m sure she did,” Taverah replied, her tone giving the impression she didn’t believe that for a second. “Sometimes I think you’d abandon nature itself if she asked you nicely enough.”

“You say that as though I would not still be surrounded by natures perfection purely by being in both your presence.”

Taverah shook her head chuckling softly as she pushed away from the door frame to enter the room. She walked over and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her daughter’s head. Halsin's teasing smile melting into one of pure adoration as he watched them.

“Pushover,” she chuckled again, placing a much different type of kiss on Halsin’s lips.

“A fair assessment,” Halsin replied. "Though if you are waiting for a penitent response we might be here for a while."

“You’re going to spoil her you know.”

"A bed of flowers can not be spoiled by receiving its gardener's time and attention, My Heart," he said softly. "So neither can she be spoiled by receiving ours."

Taverah hummed, “A very valid point.”

“Tho admittedly there is a selfishness to it on my part,” Halsin looked down at the child in his arms before brushing a lock of brown hair away from her face.

“I never would have guessed,” Taverah teased.

“She’s just growing so fast,” he said wistfully. “It is the natural order of things of course, but a day will eventually come when she will not need to seek us out for comfort or care at all, never mind an extra story past her bedtime. That day might not be today, but it will be upon us sooner than we think. And I shall miss this.”

Sometimes Tav wondered how her heart hadn’t exploded with love for this man.

“She really is growing like a weed isn’t she?” She mused. “She’ll probably be able to start reading this by herself soon.”

Taverah gently took the well worn journal from Halsin’s hand and began idly flipping through the pages that he had used to document their adventures together. She stopped on a page of sketches, her eyes lingered on one in particular. A sad look settled on her features as her fingers brushed over the drawing of a smiling shaggy haired man. “I’ll admit I’m… sort of dreading the day we have to tell her the whole ending of this particular story.”

Halsin reached over and took her hand, careful not to jostle the slumbering child in his other arm. “That story has not yet ended, My Heart,” he said gently. “That story continues on in her. He continues on in her. And when the day comes that she is ready to hear it, I’ll be right there with you to tell it.”

Tears swam in Taverah’s eyes, taking solace in the feeling of Halsin’s thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of her hand. She watched the slow even rise and fall of her daughter’s breathing, a warmth and an ache sat in her heart.

“Do you… do you ever regret… This,” she asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Do you ever regret choosing to walk this path with me?…. With Us?”

Halsin brought Tav’s hand to his lips and kissed its palm. “Never,” he said as she cupped his cheek. “…well the potty training years gave me some pause but…”

Taverah snorted a laugh and flicked the tip of her love’s ear in response. She bent down to scoop her little one up into her arms and started towards the door. Halsin did his best to stifle his laughter so as not to wake anyone up and stood up to follow. They made their way upstairs to the second floor of the little cottage that had been their home for nearly five years now, until coming to a door with little blue and purple flowers painted along the edges of the frame. Taverah expertly stepped around the toys and books littered across the floor until she reached a carved bed under the window. Halsin turned down the covers as she laid her precious arm full down. Moonlight flooded in from the window, illuminating the beautifully decorated headboard of the bed. Little silver stars and moons had been lovingly painted into a pattern across the wood that almost looked like a protective halo was arched over the child’s head. Tav kissed her daughter’s cheek as she laid her down.

“Goodnight, Abigail,” she whispered as Halsin pulled the blanket back up to make sure the sleeping child was tucked in snugly.

“Sleep well, My Joy,” he whispered as well, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her still baby soft brown hair.

Halsin stood up and wrapped his arms around Tav from behind, allowing her to lean against him while they waited for the child to fully settle in. The little girl stirred slightly once more for just a moment but stilled again after instinctively curling in on the bear she kept a death grip on.

“You know… I just realized that there may be a day we should dread more than the one you spoke of,” Halsin whispered in her ear.

“What day is that?”

“The day Karlach fixes her engine and comes asking for Clive back.”

“Good gods…” Taverah turned around with an expression of horror on her face “Faerún may not survive.”

-fin-

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I kinda wanna draw something for this Drabble myself if I can find the time at some point…. Stupid adulthood obligations getting in the way of my hobbies 🫠🥲

(also side note this is the piece that brought on this bit of inspiration)

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[ladybeug]

I drew the same comic twice because I didn't think the first one was funny enough. I don't know if the second comic is funnier though??

Here's both of them

Side by side because i couldn't decide which one to put first - knowing the punchline changes the experience?? pick your adventure. read either one first.

which ones funnier i honestly can't tell

[crystalflygeo]

Ok but imagine dragon!Zhongli fills you up with eggs and by the time they hatch you end up with a bunch of tiny baby dragons squirming around like worms. What'd you do then??

WHAT'D I DO?? TAKE CARE OF MY CHILDREN OF COURSE???

"Worms", the audacity they are dragons and they are my precious babies omg

But fr tho imagine like a dozen of tiny baby noodles with a bit of fur and tiny stubby horns just curling up on your lap or around you as you sleep, draped around your shoulder, on top of your head (and Zhongli's) that is so cute pls too adorable. 💕

I'd imagine they'd be still too weak/young to fly let alone shapeshift so they're housebound, zhongli and you have to take turns watching them and going out to do stuff. Also since they're dragons/reptiles they wouldn't need milk?? rather probably just smol pieces of meat or like soft food aaaaaaaaaaaa too cute imagine feeding them with a spoon carefully.

Until they start teething that it, then they become lil menaces, biting everything on sight including each other when play fighting and/or their father (lmao) Zhongli would make small crystals they can bite into instead of destroying everything 💕

Speaking of their father imagine Zhongli feeling the urge to take dragon form just so he can curl around them and soothe them in a way they'd be more instinctually comfortable with (PAPA DRAGON ZL INSTINCTS RUNNING WILD IMAGINE HIM LICK-BATHING THEM SVCGAHBAK 🥺💕💕💕) tho they 1000% recognize you as mama and like to burrow in your hair or under your shirt (babies noooo) and just be close to/on top of you at all times

JUST A BUNCH OF TINY NOODLE BABY DRAGONS I WOULD WEEP I WOULD CRY like I did these???? I made them with my husband?? my babies??

smth like this is you will AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[sameschmidtdiffname]

I feel like if Peeta hadn't gotten hijacked by the Capitol before being rescued, he would've ended up physically fighting Gale after hearing about all the bullshit he was on while Katniss was worried over Peeta and was making friends with other people while in 13. Not out of male testosterone "the fuck you say to my woman" type deal, solely because in what world is that okay behavior towards your best friend??

I don't feel like he'd be graceful about it either. Peeta can easily be unhinged when he wants to be. Dude would wait until Gale's 6'4 ass is stalking down the halls one day on the way to class or smth and just konk him the fuck out with a frying pan. He'd confess too. Better yet, self report. Drag Gale's ass to Mrs. Everdeen in medical and be like "I did it." No regrets.

[meamiiikiii]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)

[lazylittledragon]

y'know what. sometimes there is something wrong with you. and i don't mean in a "you are broken and that makes you unworthy" way, just in the "your brain/body does not work the way it's expected to and that's why things are so hard" way

like as someone who grew up constantly being told there was nothing wrong with me and i just had to try harder to clean/socialise/work, knowing i had ADHD earlier would've saved me a LOT of guilt. knowing i have IBS would've prevented a lot of pain/embarrassment from not being able to manage it yet. i wish someone had told me there was a reason i couldn't do things instead of just telling me i was fine. people reassuring me i didn't have any issues to spare me the shame of being "different" only made me feel worse about not being able to function like everyone else!!!

idk sometimes i just wish i knew there was something different about me sooner bc then i would've had an explanation and a way to get better instead of just a lot of self loathing

[cup-o-noodlez]

Spirits & Such family company photoshoot

[uncanny-tranny]

Hey, if you have speech impediments, you are so amazing.

If you stutter or have a lisp or misspeak easily or you have a flat affect or a limited verbal vocabulary or if your voice is AAC or if you just have a difference in your vocality, you are so incredibly important and amazing.

Just know that your voice is yours. Nobody will ever be able to truly take it away. Your voice is part of you, and you deserve to make it as true to you as you deem fit. I hope you have the space to grow with your voice and whatever about it makes it unique.

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[andro-dino]

I dunno what you’re supposed to visualize in this scene but this is what happened in my head

[atsumutu]

“Hajime, are you bored?”

The raven haired man peers up from his phone, instantly locking the device and pocketing it when he sees the concern etched across your face.

Shaking his head, Iwaizumi gives you a gentle smile. It only takes him a few steps to reach you. “No, just checking my emails.”

Unconvinced, you rest a palm on his chest. It wasn’t like you had forced the man to come out with you. Ever the attentive boyfriend, Iwaizumi had made it his mission to spend some time with you after a hectic few weeks of work - even if that meant spending the day following you into countless stores.

“Are you sure? I know this isn’t really your thing.” you mumble, gesturing lamely at the store.

“Baby, no.” he plants a soft kiss on your temple. “I love spending time with you. Even if it means becoming your personal bag holder.” Iwaizumi lifts an arm, biceps curling underneath his t shirt as he lifts a plethora of shopping bags with ease, 90% of the contents belonging to you.

He watches the way your eyes draw towards his muscle and with the tiniest lift of his lips, he whispers. “I’m starting to think you only bring me along so you can have me carry your bags and ogle me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his chest. “You’re the one who always insists on coming with me and carrying all my bags.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure?

Scoffing, you offer no solid denial, only a light push that does nothing to move the brute standing before you. Iwaizumi smiles down at you, endeared by the attempt.

“Seriously though, Hajime, I can go around by myself. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Now he’s confused. It’s the second time you’ve tried to send him home and he’s racking his brain to see if he may have upset you somehow but he keeps coming up blank. Finally giving up, he decides to ask you.

“Why?” he squints his eyes playfully, “You got another man around to carry your stuff for you?” When you don’t respond to his joke, the raven furrows his brows. Calloused palms come to rest on your cheek. “I’m fine, love.”

And sure he looked fine, Iwaizumi was as tough as nails. But not even he could handle the crazy hours he had been working the last couple of weeks and you could tell he was close to running on fumes.

“Ha ha, very funny.” taking a hold of his wrist, you peer up at the man. “Let’s just go home. I think i’ve bought enough-“

“No.” He’s curt and the unexpected sharpness in his tone cuts you a lot deeper than he would have ever intended. You blink at his words, guilt, concern and a flash of hurt painting across your features. Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his forehead on your shoulder, groaning in what you guess is regret.

Your first instinct is to comfort him, so you do. Weaving your fingers through his dark tresses, you let him soak in your warmth.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I know, Haji.”

With a final sigh, he slumps back a step. “Shit, maybe I do need to get my ass home.” he chuckles half heartedly.

Humming, you take a step forward to reach him, mischief brimming in your tone. “Well if you’d just listened to me the first time I wouldn’t be here trying to calm down Mr Grumpy Pants himself.”

“Watch it.” he snipes, no real bite behind his words.

And in all your childish glory, you stick your tongue out at him.

Iwaizumi looks wholly amused. When was the last time someone stuck their tongue out at him? Then, he remembers who his best friend is and any trace of amusement is gone. “That Oikawa is a shitty influence on you.” he grumbles.

“Come on, let’s go.” you giggle, reaching for his free hand to lead him towards the exit.

“Hey,” he calls, softly tugging at your hands to halt your steps, “I love you.”

Despite the gruff texture of his voice, you would never tire of how softly those words would fall from his lips.

“I love you too.” lifting your entwined fingers up, you seal your words with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. “Now, can we finally go home?”

Iwaizumi smiles, fond. “Let's go home.”

[firestorm09890]

Penny stardewvalley makes me so sad because she's SO sensitive to, like, basically everything you tell her (telling her that you can't stand children while two children are nearby is a pretty lousy move but -1500 friendship?? being a jerk to other characters' faces typically loses you about 50 points, and if you choose the option labeled "creepy" and ask Leah for a kiss in her 2 heart event she physically hits you and kicks you out of her house but that's only -100 friendship…) and so if you want to befriend her it's a whole lot of lying and tiptoeing around her feelings (2 hearts: George was right but saying that makes her feel bad. 6 hearts: her food sucks but even if you try to be polite about it she feels like a failure; only a bald-faced lie pleases her. 8 hearts: saying you don't want to be tied down with a family loses you a little bit of friendship and she's only happy if you say you want kids) and I can't help but think she's a product of her environment. She lives in a trailer with only her mother, who gets drunk every night and has something of a temper. Penny's like a skittish rescue animal who won’t even come out from hiding under something unless you leave her lots of treats

[freckleslikestars]

FARSCAPE | 1.06 Thank God It's Friday, Again.