#and yet... here we are
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
29. The smell of burning wood
Pairing: Gale x Tav (pre-relationship) Words: ~3600 Notes: Mostly self-indulgent fluff, takes place the first night of the game
The sun had started its descent in the sky by the time they’d found a suitable site for a camp and scrounged enough supplies and crockery among the carnage around the Nautiloid’s crash site. This close to the campfire, the sweet, earthy smoke that wafted her way managed to block out the acrid scent of the smoldering wreckage of the strange, alien ship that had brought them here, or even the lingering sulfurous stench of Avernus that seemed to cling to their clothes.
The crackling fire burned bright, the snaps and pops of the dried wood in the flames a steady percussion, as if measuring the progress of the setting sun. If Aravyn closed her eyes, breathed in deep, she might almost pretend this was any normal night on the road. But every time she did so, that damned tadpole would squirm anew and shatter the illusion before it even really began. Stupid bugger, not even a day in and she was already ready to evict it purely on the grounds for being such an ungrateful little guest. All impending threats of ceremorphosis aside.
After the quiet, terse, yet surprisingly delicious meal their resident wizard had pulled together from their random assortment of fish and dried rations, most of their ragtag group had retreated to their own corners of camp. Instead of withdrawing into momentary fantasy, she eyed the dirtied, abandoned makeshift bowls and plates they’d found amongst the carnage, and the retreating forms of her fellow adventurers with a small frown.
Everyone seemed more intent on setting up their own tents for however long they’d be here — wherever here was. They all had a lot on—and in—their minds at the moment. Much more than daily chores.
Well, not quite everyone. Over by the now emptied cook pot, Gale seemed lost in thought, brow furrowed as he piled discarded fish bones and herb stems on a ragged cloth. He’d spent most of their time in camp preparing their evening meal, and had yet to set up his own area. Mind made up, she set about gathering the dirtied crockery and utensils, making just enough noise to rouse him from that deep contemplation.
“Allow me.” She indicated the bundle he was currently tying up. “You already worked enough magic transforming these rations into a feast. The least I can do is the dishes.”
That summoned the semblance of a smile, his lips quirking up ever so slightly as the frown smoothed away to a friendlier expression. “Oh, trust me, my arcane prowess extends to more impressive feats than conjuring flavor from our meager scrounging. But I appreciate the sentiment.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said lightly. “That meal was a sight more flavorful than any jerky soup I’ve cooked over a campfire.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what, pray tell, is ‘jerky soup’?”
“Well, it’s when you get a pot of water boiling, then throw in a mess of jerky. You can tear it up into pieces if you’re feeling ambitious. Then let soak until soft enough to not break your teeth.”
Gale looked positively horrified at the culinary abomination described. “Do you drink the—I hesitate to call it broth?”
“Of course! Waste not, want not.”
“That sounds like quite the… unique concoction.”
“You can say bad, it’s all right. I think it would violate my oath to inflict that particular delicacy on others.”
He pressed his lips together, either to repress a smile or perhaps in relief that his intestinal fortitude wouldn’t be challenged anytime soon. “It sounds like for the foreseeable future of our journey that I should maintain control of the cook pot.”
“I would not wish to give you more duties,” she hedged, “but perhaps that is wise for now. We probably shouldn't add gastrointestinal distress to the list of things we’re dealing with.”
“Grand adventures do rarely involve epic tales of food poisoning.”
“I wouldn’t say it was that bad — but point taken. Cooking has never really been in my repertoire. That’s probably not going to change much.”
“Come now, there’s always the chance to learn,” Gale insisted, “and I have been known to instruct a wayward student once or twice in my day.”
“Have you now?”
“Granted, my apprentices, if you would call them such, needed tutelage of the more arcane nature, but! I am not a man to who would hoard knowledge from a willing pupil.”
“If you’re offering to teach me how to cook,” she threaded a note of teasing into her tone, “I am not sure I would be a talented student—”
“Please, I won’t have you downplaying your own aptitude. You had enough creativity to invent a new genre of soup, regardless of how…” he paused, as if searching his broad vocabulary for the most polite way to phrase it, “—uh, palatable it wound up being. I bet if you used more than two ingredients, perhaps a vegetable, mixed in the concept of spices, then the flavor would expand exponentially.”
“I knew I forgot something.” That elicited a quiet snort. “That’s the kind of feedback that would be helpful in the future.”
“All that and more.”
“Well, in that case, I wouldn’t mind learning from a master.” She gave him a smile. “Especially if it would help ease the burden of cooking.”
“Ah, but is it a burden to feed others?” Gale tapped the side of his nose as he gave her a wink. “Or just good manners?”
“Speaking of good manners,” she deftly grabbed the bundle before he could protest, “as you cooked the meal, it is only appropriate for someone else to clean up.”
“Yes, I guess that is true,” he conceded. “And in truth, I do appreciate the assistance. This has been… well, rather more excitement than I’d prefer for one day.”
“Hard to argue with that.” The clatter of her trying to stack their eclectic assortment of makeshift crockery with the cookware and pot nearly drowned out her murmur of agreement. “Not every day starts with ilithid abductions, crashing nautiloids, with a side trip into hell.”
The stack of cookware tilted dangerously as she tried to arrange it in one hand and reach for the dirtied cookpot with the other, and Gale rushed forward to steady it. “Please, let us not compound the day’s adventure with another crash.”
“I’ve got it,” she insisted with good nature. “Just trying to save on trips.”
“I have already added enough work for you this evening,” he grabbed the dishes that were moments from taking a tumble, “let me offset that by at least helping with transport.”
“Very well,” she dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to be accused of breaking Astarion’s new favorite plate.”
“Is it really, though? It’s not like he touched much of his meal earlier. Perhaps it wasn’t to his taste.” Gale added a few more dishes to his own stack for good measure, and gave a side eye to the way she easily hefted the heavy cooking pot to bear. “Are you sure you have that?”
“Oh, this? Yeah, it’s nothing. Really.”
“Are you sure? I nearly threw my back out when I was trying to adjust its position on the fire.”
“You just have to lift with your knees.”
“If you say so,” he murmured.
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“My back?”
“No—I mean, it’s your back, you have every right to worry about that, don’t let me stop you—but I was talking about Astarion picking at his food. The meal was delicious. Maybe he just has a weak stomach. As you said, it has been a long and arduous day.”
“Hm, do I detect a hint of sarcasm there?”
“No,” Aravyn insisted, perhaps a little too quickly.
“Well, a lesser person might hold a little grudge for the way he pulled a knife on you.” There was a knowing look in the wizard’s eye that had her snorting out an annoyed breath, especially when he added, “You moved on from that with a surprising amount of grace.”
She tried not to wince at the memory of the knife pressed against her throat, its sharp edge slightly cooler than the one in Gale’s threat to incinerate the pale elf threatening her. “Well, he did eventually put the knife away.”
“Only after you nearly knocked out his teeth with that headbutt—a very nice move, by the way.” The smile she tried to dredge up at the intended compliment may have come out more of a grimace, but he forged on, voice dropping to more of a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s very strange, but I couldn’t help but notice how sharp his canines are. Do you think he files them down?”
“What? No—who would do that?”
“I don’t know… Bhaalists, cannibals, oh, maybe he’s part orc?”
“He doesn’t seem to have the physique for that particular bloodline.” Aravyn set the pot down as they reached the water’s edge, the babbling of the river’s current adding a serene soundtrack to their hushed conversation now they were further away from the hub of the camp. “And a Bhaalist would have just slit my throat.”
“So we’re agreed, then? Definitely a cannibal.”
She quickly turned to Gale, letting out a hushing noise as she grabbed for the set of plates he’d rescued from their ignoble end. “You’re horrible. Stop!”
The strength of her plea was weakened by her half-laugh and wide-eyed look she tossed back towards the subject of their conversation, who could barely be seen past the large outcropping of rocks lining the shore. Gale let out a quiet, almost satisfied chuckle as he delicately set the plates on her outstretched palms.
“And yet you indulge in my salacious speculation.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps it’s my charm.”
She shot him a wry, side-long glance as she knelt into the wet soil of the riverbank, spreading out the cookware and crockery to prepare for her task. “Might I remind you that you just accused one of our party of secretly wanting to eat us?”
Gale let out an affronted huff. “Are you impugning my character?”
“Maybe just a little.” She flashed a smile at him. “Although I should probably factor in that you were gentlemanly enough to help me haul my horde down here.”
He quirked an eyebrow at that. “This grading system of my character seems to have a lot of complexity to it. Is it a sliding scale?”
“Would you believe I invented it on the spot?”
“I might.”
“Well,” the brightness of her smile faded to something a little softer, “regardless, I think you have been gallant enough for the day. You’ve spent all your time in camp preparing us a fine meal and haven’t seen to your own tent. I’m sure you have plenty yet to unpack and arrange after the day’s chaos.”
Gale opened his mouth as if to continue a polite protest, then shut it again as he mulled over the statement. “I suppose you make a fair point. We need an area for research if we’re to be stranded here for any length of time, and my books! Well, what few I had on my person doesn’t hold a candle to my library back in Waterdeep, but still enough to fill a shelf or two. That I’ll need to construct somehow, come to think of it.”
“It seems like you have your hands full, then.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on, mine are busy with the dishes.”
As Gale turned to leave, an action she had very much been encouraging, there was just the smallest flicker of disappointment in her chest. Before he could take another step, or her mind could catch up with the compulsion, her hand shot out to catch his sleeve. She reeled the impulse back in just enough so that her fingers just brushed against the fabric, gaining a bit of a startled look back in her direction.
“Wait, I…” As he glanced down at her quizzically, she could feel her cheeks flushing and the tips of her ears burning, but she didn’t avert her gaze. “I just wanted to say. About earlier, when Astarion pulled the knife. You threatened to incinerate him.”
“Ah. Right. Not my finest moment.”
“No, no, what I mean to say is…” Gods, why was this so difficult? “Thank you. You hadn’t known me for even an hour, yet you still made an effort.”
“Well, it’s hardly the act of a gentleman to let some scallywag slit your throat, especially after you so valiantly rescued me from that malfunctioning portal.” The self-deprecating smile that twisted his lips now seemed more genuine than the practiced one that accompanied his more braggadocios statements. Like this was what came to him more naturally. “Not that my efforts amounted to much. You were obviously more than capable of handling the situation on your own.”
“That you tried means something.”
“I suppose that’s a refreshing change of pace,” he mused, almost to himself. At the quizzical tilt of her head, he seemed to remember himself and added. “Worry not. If things continue as they have, I’m sure there will be ample opportunity for me to be successful in returning the favor and save your life.” An awkward beat passed as he considered his words. “Not that I would wish more danger upon us, of course. But we do seem to attract… excitement.”
“Like moth to a flame,” she agreed quietly.
“Well,” Gale cleared his throat, clasping his arms behind his back, “I do have those books to organize. I suppose I shall leave you to it.”
At her nod, he quickly retreated towards the camp, and she let out a frustrated breath that threatened to become a sigh. Without even really thinking, she started to methodically work through the dishes and get them clean. Or as clean as they could get with the limited supplies they were working with. They needed some soap—and something rough enough to really scrub out this pot. For now, elbow grease would have to do. If she focused more on the rag in her hands, then there would be less of her mind to try to sort out her lingering disappointment.
She didn’t even know what she was disappointed about. If she thought about it at any length, bringing up the earlier incident was probably not very appropriate. She wasn’t even sure why'd done so, it was almost as if it had burst forth from her as if from its own accord. It had just made things awkward — and she hadn’t been trying to imply that Gale had failed in any way. She had just wanted… gods, she didn’t know that either.
The problem with losing oneself in a task was that each one had a finite end point. By the time she stacked the last dish inside the cook pot, the sun had shrunk behind the horizon, bleeding vivid hues across the sky in its wake. Absently she shook out the bundle of cooking scraps into the flowing water, watching them disappear into the deeper currents of the river.
They’d reached the end of the first day. Of seven if the more learned members of their ragtag group were to be believed. Seven days until the thing in their heads burst forth, ripping through their skin, burning up their souls and—
She shoved herself to her feet with an unnecessarily violent movement. No. No. She hadn’t finished with her task yet.
She carefully stacked the dishes inside of the large pot, taking time to inspect the structural integrity before hefting it to bear. She could count the steps back to the center of camp individually, rolling her feet so that the crockery didn’t clink too loudly on the trip, before setting it down in its appropriate spot near the campfire. Unfortunately, even if she dragged her feet, it only stretched out her distraction for another minute or so.
That was fine, everyone else was busy getting their own spaces prepared. She should do so as well. She'd already laid out her meager belongings in her little lean-to, but perhaps a little more organization wouldn’t hurt. The tenets of her oath had been placed carefully upon the bedroll that still needed to be unfurled for the night, and the slender neck of a lute peeked from behind where she’d stacked her armor, tabard, and shield for the evening.
The lute wasn’t hers. Not really. It had been years since her own had been sold off, and this one had been found it amongst the wreckage on the beach. An admittedly useless item for a pack of strangers focusing on survival. While a fairly light instrument, it was still unwise to haul around extra weight that served no real utility. And yet, she couldn’t just abandon it to rot in the sea air, its song forever silenced like the countless bodies littering the shore of the crash site.
She wasn’t actively aware that she had dropped to her knees until her fingers were tracing over the nicks and divots worn into the fretboard from countless years of fingertips pressing strings against it. A few lighter scratches showed newer use — perhaps a child taking lessons, inadvertently adding their own marks.
Or maybe that was just a bit of imagination, or perhaps projection, shining through, she told herself as she struggled to swallow past a sudden lump in her throat. Though in her mind’s eye it was all too easy to see small, chubby fingers being guided along the fretboard by larger, more experienced hands. Perhaps an older relative, or a tutor. Index finger and thumb working in tandem to pluck out familiar chords to a timeless tune.
Its bright notes would be the same, whether plucked out by a small child, or drifting out the open window of a tavern. Her teenage self would have never risked going into one. Even taking just a moment to pause and listen to the full length of a tune would cut into her overly filled schedule. And yet her fingers would keep their own time, drumming atop the large tomes of mathematics and elvish history she lugged between lessons across the Lower City.
Aravyn blinked, out of memory and half-imaginings, back into her dirty, bloody reality on the banks of the Chionthar. There were no tavern musicians or traveling bards with a merry tune to chase away the dark thoughts looming at the edges — just her and the lute that somehow was already cradled into a familiar position. The fading light of the sun seemed to glimmer along the strings, and her thumb was already in motion, plucking the first string, her index finger moving on muscle memory as it picked a corresponding note that sung a crisp, familiar note.
It was brief, but just encouragement enough that her fingertips continued to dance a familiar refrain, weaving a familiar song. She could hear the cheerful tune in her head, but as her fingers continued to work the strings, the notes didn’t match. Discordant and jarring, the thin threads of music tangled together, crashing into an unrecognizable and inharmonious cacophony.
“If that racket does not stop right now,” the voice of an angry githyanki hanging on to their last thread of patience cut through the camp, “I will end both it and whoever is responsible!”
Her fingers felt as heavy and uncoordinated as those sour sounds, and the lute was quickly lowered back to her lap. Of course, some random instrument found in the carnage of the nautiloid’s crash wouldn’t function properly. Only a silly fool would think not only that but also that it would somehow lighten the heavy mood in their camp.
A familiar paternal voice in the back of her mind chastised her for chasing her own comfort and wasting time on such frivolous things, especially when there were far more important matters to tend to. And their impending ceremorphosis certainly wouldn’t be cured even if she could coax a festive song from the lute’s untuned strings.
“It’s time to put away childish things, Aravyn,” that echo from the past reminded her, the reprimand carrying the weight of a lifetime of failed expectations. She exhaled sharply to shake off the familiar, stifling sensation. If there was no time to indulge in frivolities, then there was also no time to indulge in self-pity, either.
Even though her cheeks burned at the thought of the entire camp hearing that wretched sound, Aravyn couldn’t find it in herself to take her frustrations out on the lute. She instead forced herself to glance up. The fading sunlight cast a warm glow over her new companions, all of whom were engrossed in the rhythm of their own tasks. Even renowned musical critic Lae’zel had waited long enough to ensure the return of silence, before resuming the construction on a training dummy that was beginning to resemble a Mindflayer. Had she spent the entire afternoon attaching tentacles to the thing?
She shook her head. What did that matter?
Regardless, if Aravyn’s faux pas wasn’t enough to warrant anything more than a grumbled threat, perhaps she shouldn’t linger on it too long. With one last lingering glance at the lute, she carefully set it away, far, far to the back of her tent. Out of reach, and out of temptation’s range. Her focus right now needed to be on what tune tomorrow’s winds might carry. She gave a wry smile at the thought, hoping a new dawn might bring a little more harmony than today’s chaos.
#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#gale x tav#(pre-relationship)#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#bg3 tav#oc: aravyn#greyfic#in which ari and gale gossip like a bunch of real housewives#and i try to faithfully recreate her embarrassing musical debut#that the game has now patched out of existence :(#now kel#i know you didn't submit this prompt nearly two years ago#thiking you'd wind up with 3600 rambling words of bg3 fic#and yet... here we are
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
TBH I dont understand what the big deal is. It isnt as if other sites didnt scrape Tumblr half a year ago already. At least Tumblers being honest.
Kudos to them for their honesty, I guess, but that makes the opt-out switch even more of a joke to appease people than I already perceive it to be (which fun fact! I likely won't get until 4-6 days later because that's the time it takes the spanish version of tumblr to roll out new updates)
Everything's been scraped already. Twice, even. So... I don't know
#slimes ask#anonymous#I probably shouldn't be answering this considering my current state#and yet... here we are#I'll see myself out then‚ kest things spiral out of control
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ramble
I’m reworking my Tumblr to contain more art & writing-related things. I honestly hate the direction that social media has taken, making everything more bite-size and disposable. I wanna talk, dammit. I want to share art, opinions, advice and discuss.
So Twitter can be for updates, business, convention stuff and whatnot, leaving Tumblr to be where I share more art, progress, writing stuff and things I’ve learned. How will I manage to control two different styles of social media account? I won’t! I’m going to suffer and do both badly, but hey, I’m gonna give it a good effort while I remember.
#creativity time#I want to share more#Hates me the Discord#Hates me the Twitter#Hates me the Facebook#Hates me the social media#And yet... here we are
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
PSA: Tumblr/Wordpress is preparing to start selling our user data to Midjourney and OpenAI.
you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.
to opt out on desktop, click your blog ➡️ blog settings ➡️ scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle.
to opt out on mobile, click your blog ➡️ scroll then click visibility ➡️ toggle opt out option.
if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. if you don’t have the option available, update your app or close your browser/refresh a few times. important to note you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)
#ai#tumblr ai#midjourney#openai#protect your creative efforts and don’t let them profit off your work!!#fuck tumblr they specifically said months ago they’d NEVER sell user data yet here we are#AND after the ceo has been harassing trans users like wtf is this fucking site becoming#tumblr news#tumblr#tumblr update#anti ai#support human artists
33K notes
·
View notes
Text
they’re married with kids. it’s confirmed yall
#idk if this has made it here yet#poolverine canon?#poolverine canon#THEYRE MARRIED#LITERALLY THIS IS AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE#WE STAY TOGETHER FOR THE KIDS#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool x wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool#wolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool 3#wade x logan#logan x wade#hugh jackman#ryan reynolds#worst wolverine
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
same old story...
#guys eow is literally killing me if you couldnt tell. im dying#i have like real schoolwork to do. and yet here we are#anyways. hi#eow#echoes of wisdom#loz#eow spoilers#zelda#link#skribbles
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
this came to me in a vision
#i told myself i would only clean it up a little yet here we are#wish i included fords stubble but i kinda forgot when coloring and i don't feel like going back and exporting so many frames yet again#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#the book of bill#fanart#art#digital art#animatic#artists on tumblr#hummise art
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
since Eng is getting 7.5 soon(?), I felt motivated to go back to my Meleanor rig and make her a couple of lesson animations! ...except for alchemy, because the cauldron bubbles proved too hard to photoshop around, whoops.
maybe she just got lost on her way to the classroom...?
(credit: backgrounds are from the game, I just put her on top of 'em)
(aside from the backgrounds, this is not an edit, I drew her from scratch! please do not tag or treat as an edit!)
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 5 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 5 spoilers#gif warning#gifs that will inexplicably never get a perfect no matter how many cupcakes you use warning#let's just say she hasn't been added to the alchemy schedule yet#AS PER USUAL#(sam sneaks in at night and messes with the schedule so we have to buy candy from him instead)#(i promise i will stop spamposting eventually) (they gotta stop giving me characters to obsess over first)#anyway in my continuing efforts to manifest a meleanor card into existence#it's time to remember i made this a million years ago#just blow off some of the dust and cobwebs that have accumulated here...#'i'm only gonna add a couple of things i won't do too much'#(spends ten minutes trying to decide what color goggles she should have)#(flipping back and forth between green and purple) it's no use she looks good in everything#spineposting#(not me stealth editing because i didn't realize the wrong arm attachment had somehow popped in whoops)
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Look for anything (or anyone) that could be familiar
For part two:
❤️ 300 likes
🔁 70 reblogs
Reblog with the hashtag:
🔼 for Ingo to find Emmet
🔽 for Emmet to find Ingo
#ARCEUS THEY WERE NOT DONE WITH THEIR CONVERSATION YET THAT IS RUDE!!!#submas#ingo#warden ingo#Subway boss Ingo#Subway master Ingo#Akari#pokemon Akari#pokemon legends arceus#PLA#pokemon#reblog game#?? i think?#I still don’t know what these are called lol#waywardstationart#I cut the dialogue on here so much shorter than I wanted to#Ingo and Akari’s last conversation would get to so much more than this#but hey I have a ten panel limit#and we are here to play a game and look at drawings#not read paragraphs of exposition#that’s what my fanfics are for haha#ANYWAYS HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS#made the likes and reblogs kinda high to give me some time to figure this out#it is 3am as I’m posting this now I sleep
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Help why am i getting the strongest urge to rewatch Pretty little liars
#like. that show is so bad and so long but my sister and i binged it a while back and i had so much fun#i don't have time for thisssss#and yet... here we are#pll#pretty little liars#noodle rambles
1 note
·
View note
Text
Wet cheese
#it started out as a normal redraw and a good opportunity to practice a wet aesthetic#(wet fabric and wet hair and stuff)#and then it became somewhat thirsty? 💀#trust me that was not the intention yet here we are#I'm sorry to the people how started following me for my latest s/tardew art 💀 I promise that will return too#one piece#sanji#op#ig zosan with the extra pic??#o0kawaii0o#redraw#sanji pre time skip
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
For the twins in time AU, I genuinely wonder what kind of people the young twins grow up into because of Stan’s/Ford’s influence. Especially if it takes years for the portal to get fixed.
(Sorry if it seems like I already sent this question, I don’t know if it got sent the first time I asked)
I haven’t fully fleshed out how Ford grows up in the past but I do have thoughts on Stan presently
#he’s still his goofy brash self as well#but I do think he gets an outlet for all that through monster hunting and trips and stuff#he does get comfortable here though…#I’m thinking we have something play out that’s similar to the science fair#where they get close to being able to send him home and he breaks something or maybe even purposely sabotages it…#and I think he sneaks out a lot too#maybe he uses the secret identities in that way like when he’s in town he’ll pretend to be Pinley pinington#and that’s how he develops his scammy/improv skills#FORD ON THE OTHER HAND#I think he might actually be MORE emotionally stunted because Stan tries so hard to protect him#that it goes the other way#they kind of become reliant on each other in a really unhealthy way or maybe Stan sort of steers ford away from his smart stuff#to prevent the future from happening#not maliciously but yk#like I said I haven’t fleshed his story out as fully yet so I will get back to you#but there are some interesting possibilities#my art#ask#gravity falls#twins in time au#Stan pines#Stanley pines
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ladies, gentlemen, and estimed others, I think we can officially say that jayvik wins over caitvi for biggest arcane divorce because hoLY SHIT-
#we have to wait a fucking WEEK?!#I mean this is obviously how we get game victor (he literally is called the machine herald here and even mentions glorious evolution!!)#but DAMN#I mean caitvi ain’t much better Caitlyn did move on real damn quick and vi was in her emo era#but they haven’t killed eachother (yet)#arcane league of legends#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane s2#arcane spoilers#arcane season two#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2 spoilers#jayce talis#arcane jayce#jayce arcane#viktor#viktor arcane#arcane viktor#jayce x viktor#jayvik#rach rambles#mine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
girl help
bonus lil sketch with a mouse after my tablet refused to work for the night. ref in this post
#never thought i'd find myself here#yet here we are#no regrets#sister daniel#phanart#terrible influence tour#dan howell#dan and phil#phan#my art#dnp
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
mourning black and the death of ideals
#i haven't moved on from this yet. btw. i'm still here#finally decided to draw the thought i've been ruminating over for days on end bc it's like a parasite eating away my brain#stated this on the initial post i made days ago but there's just smt so gut wrenching and sickening#about how dazai will have worn black exactly twice in his life: once as a member of the mafia and now at kunikida's funeral#a color that initially signified devotion to the mafia and his demon prodigy alias now signifies his grief#him having to wear black again at the funeral of another doomed fatalist who chose his heart over his survival. his own partner.#kunikida's death being so reminiscent of the tragedy that initially caused him to defect and flee#and everything tying together full circle and effectively breaking him#asagiri rly said fuck knkdz it's doppover we lost gang 😭😭😭#why did bro leave that fucking notebook behind#fool. do you know that angst potential you have left me to work with?#love never won in bsd. it lay dead and festering#i don't know how much longer i can keep saying i miss them. i'm going to kill myself if he doesn't come back#i've never wanted something to be death bait so desperately#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikidazai#knkdz#kunizai#(??? technically. its implied anyway)#lotus draws
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Gerard Way doing the can-can during the intro of 'Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)' at WWWY 2024 (x)
#has anyone made this yet?#here are my shitty gifs#WHEN WE WERE YOUNG 2024#tw: flashing lights#gerard way#mikey way#mcr#my chemical romance#rubbish78gifs#my gifs
1K notes
·
View notes