musickgeek

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i had a dream last night where i was walking in front of a forest. like there were a bunch of big rocks in front of the forest and i was walking there but suddenly i'm hyperaware of the fact that bertholdt-fucking-hoover is chasing me at full speed that wasn't even the worst part while i was running for my life from budweiser literally fucking bohemian rhapsody started playing. specifically the part that plays at 3:21 into the song. is this my punishment for calling bert "bohemian rhapsody" like a month or two months ago

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So to catch you up to speed

Luigi Mangione is an innocent man who has not been confirmed to have been involved in any crime.

We have police documents confirming he was not DNA tested or fingerprinted, and confirmation no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene due to incomplete prints and immense DNA contamination of New Yorks streets.

No evidence has linked him to the crime.

No facial recognition has even remotely come close to identifying the cctv suspects face as that of Luigi. His own family and friends do not see a resemblance. Most people agree the features in the cctv do not match the very well documented features of Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione has no history of violence nor with firearms. He is a vegan pacifist with no history of mental illness and an aversion to killing even bugs.

He is still only a SUSPECT and all involvement in any crimes are merely ALLEGED at this time. Alleged by the most corrupt police force in the entire nation; the NYPD who do more organized crime than they've ever stopped.

Luigi Mangione's attorneys confirmed they have been shown absolutely nothing that even places Luigi at the scene of the crime.

People have repeatedly tried to recreate the entire timeline of events and found it is not physically possible to do what was alleged in the time frame police gave. Especially dubious for Luigi Mangione to have done given his recent, crippling back injury.

Luigi Mangione in his own words has said police planted evidence on him and are not being honest about his arrest or what he had on him at the time.

There is no body cam footage of Luigi's arrest.

There is no autopsy report for Brian Thompson.

Luigi has so far been:

Stripped of his hat, jacket and shoes and forced to walk in the cold in December wearing wet socks.

Forced to urinate on himself where police then took and published humiliation photos of him.

He was then stripped of his shirt pants and socks and put in a blue psychiatric gown and strapped to a chair inmates called "the torture chair" and left for prolonged periods of time. To the point the entire inmate population at the prison protested in anger.

He was slammed unto a brick wall, choked, and shoved by various police officers for no reason.

Was marched through nyc at gunpoint by officers with military firearms, forced to wear chains

Was called a murderer by the mayor of NYC on national television.

Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals.

He is now being forced to sleep on the floor despite again, a crippling back injury.

Again, he has not even had trial yet. He is an innocent man by the very definition of the law. He has nothing tying him to any crime. And even the crime itself was a nobody being shot in a city where nobodies are shot everyday, seven days a week. And those shooters don't get this treatment. Cannibals don't get this treatment. Serial killers don't get this treatment. Why are they doing this? Because we entered an oligarchy and they want people who are rich to matter more than people who are not. The NO ONE, no name, insignificant person that Brian THOMPSON always was and WILL ALWAYS BE is more important because of his net worth, to the fascist oligarchy we've entered into, than the innocent man, data scientist and robotics engineer with a promising future that is Luigi Mangione.

The NYPD doesn't want him to be innocent. They are torturing him gleefully and postponing his trial because they know he's innocent. They just want to scare the public into understanding that the ultra rich, even those who's names will never be remembered as anything other than markings on a never visited tombstone, are the only persons who matter now. Not yours. Never yours. You're poor. They'll torture you without a trial too. Your life means nothing to them. Your children dying in school shootings means nothing to them. Pinning a crime on an innocent man they can beat to scare the public out of class consciousness is the only thing that matters to them now. Depose them.

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Dear God, please. Especially with Astarion fics, let the man escape sexual trauma 😭

WHY IS EVERYTHING SMUT WHY WHY WHY JS GIMME SOME HEARTWRENCHING ANGST OR TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF I DONT WANNA SEE THE WORD COCK FOR LIKE A WEEK STAAWWPPPPPUHHH

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Chat, do we still like soulmate AU fics?

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First Felon is kidnapping and trafficking.

#LanguageMatters ✨️racism✨️💫

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sending your friends terrible tumblr posts is a love language

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sexymen and trisha dont discriminate between the sinners and the saints ig

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Shadows {BG3 x Tav}

1066 words. Act II spoilers, slight angst

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Tav

The party had successfully defeated the shadow monsters in the basement of the Mason's Guild. Your friends were all worn weary from the day, but still looked to each other in victory before noticing that someone did not share their triumph. Tav? You sat on your knees in the center on several discarded shadow vestiges, the orbs glowing around you as if calling for attention. You felt drawn to it, something inside pushing you to gently press your hand against the one closest. You're overcome with emotion as a happy, faded memory flashes in your mind. It feels as though you'd been sent back in time, launched into another's body. 

The others notice silent tears flow from your face, you look utterly distraught. They looked to each other for something to say before both sets of eyes landed on Astarion. It was not a secret in the camp that the two of you had gotten quite close. Astarion felt uncertainty bubbles up. He had never seen you so weepy. He was unsure how to approach anyone like this, let alone the person that seemed so untouchable. The person who seemed to make the best of every situation, and smile at the end of a hard day.

"I can feel the warmth of home, and hear the laughter of children, his children. But they laugh no more." You pick up another. "A woman holding hands with her husband-to-be. She loved him so much." And another. "This one hid for days, hearing the sound of battle come closer. All they wanted was for it to be over..." You seemed more inconsolable with each touch, looking off into the distance at something that wasn't at all in front of you. "These were once people, people who had so much to give. People's lives ripped apart by this tainted earth. I can hear their voices, I can feel their emotion. We must cure this wretched land, we mustn't let this happen to any more innocents." You were practically begging your friends despite knowing they would follow your lead. The scene became somber, but they all nodded regardless. 

Astarion wanted to wipe your tears, he ached seeing you like this, but did not move. He found he had no words of comfort. If he was being honest, he didn't care much for these shadows or their past lives. He cared for you, but that too was hard to admit aloud sometimes. You collected them, and insisted on burying the memories to respect what they once were. Astarion might as well have been studying you as the group walked back outside. It was obvious the memories continued to effect you; you all but sobbed as you held them against you. 

You tried pick out how many children you could hear, counting two boys and a girl. You wanted to catch the names of those lost, and their loved ones. The woman calls her soon to be husband Damien, and he calls her Melody. You try to glimpse their faces, but never manage to. Still, you feel their breath as if it were your own. Nervous and heavy, yet stifled to remain quiet. The more you learn, the more you grieve them as if they were kin. Still, you would not let go. You wanted to remember their stories.

Astarion couldn't figure out why this was so important to you. Why those memories has so deeply affected their fearless leader. They were not important to your mission, they were lost long ago. You do not share your visions. Without a word from yourself or the group, you lead them back to camp for the night. Once there, the others split to their tents, but you went a small ways away to bury the shadows. Your body visibly relaxes as your separate the orbs from your touch, both relieved and exhausted. Astarion, who had been watching the exchange, walks over to meet you. You sit on your knees, muttering well wishes to the lost souls as he sits besides you. He can tell you're a bit irritated he'd invaded your moment, so he remained quiet and waited for you to talk. He doesn't have to wait too long.

"I wish I could return these memories to their loved ones." You admit. "I can't understand why. Your big heart always does seem to allude me." He tries to joke, but he wishes he could eat the words when they just make you frown deeper. "These are lives, Astarion. Lives ruined by this curse, the cult, this evil. I... We can't save them. It isn't fair that they had to be ripped from what could have been." Astarion was taken aback by the answer, if he was honest. He felt a pang of grief as he remembered being ripped from his life to be made into a spawn. "I'm sorry. You can't save everyone." He said, trying to hide how bitter he felt. You shake your head. "I know, but...if I'd been taken by the shadows, if I had been reduced to this orb with just a glimpse of who I was... what would you do with it?" You looked him in the eyes, and saw his features soften the way they only did for you. "I'd cherish it every day. The way I cherish you." He answered genuinely. Though he didn't appreciate the thought of your death, he understood your point. "Exactly. As would I. And I would give them that comfort too, if I could. I suppose this will have to suffice." You lean your head on his shoulder, an act he welcomes. "I'm sure there are others, shadows with memories suffering inside. I know we have so much on our plate, but..."

Astarion knew what you wanted to do. If it would ease your troubled mind, he would do it for you. "Then we will find them, and you can lay them to rest. With you looking after them, my sweet, I'm sure the souls are at peace." He wasn't convinced the souls felt anything, but he wouldn't say that to you. Besides, he surely felt that way with you at his side. You smile, prompting him to place a soft kiss to the top of your head. You wonder who else you might find, what stories you might relive for them. You wonder if, somehow, these souls would help you find their friends. "I hope so."

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"I'm going to play Dark Urge, I'm going to play a Drow, I'm going to play a Half Elf Cleric of Selune-" No. I grow tired of filling Faerun with hotties and encouraging my party's fatherless behavior.

To remedy this I have made Your Dad, the ultimate 1:1 replica of the average New Jersey father to save the realm and put a stop to my party's sad, horny business.

And before you can even ask "oh what is the Guardian Your Mom or something" of fucking course she is you fool

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all right, who gave this man a teaching license?

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I just wanted to come here and say that baldurs gate has consumed my life for the last two weeks.

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I'm not the only one who sees a similarity between them, am I? 😂👀

(father and son)

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being in a small fandom is like being given a bone, chewing on it until you're done with it, burying it in your backyard, and then digging that same chewed up bone months later to continue chewing on it, and then the cycle just repeats.

this is especially true for small fandoms that you know won't be getting any new content, so you just have to consume the content you've already consumed thousands of times before.

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In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.

P.S: Don't like! Reblog! <3

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I want you to remember:

The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.

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Jayce Talis / Boots by Rudyard Kipling

Posted this to tiktok already but I'm very proud of it..