#i mean buddy you started it

[existenceisthis]

day thirty something thinking about the fact that apparently lou negotiated to take the first kissing scene from full on make out to something gentle since it's more in character for how he plays tommy

because lou finds tommy gentle and considerate because tommy never got to have that applied to himself 

because lou wants tommy to adore buck how buck deserves to be adored and not have lust steer the direction bucktommy are going together

because even lou knows tommy was seeking for permanence and while he was super into buck he was never going to push buck into anything he wasn't ready for

because tommy is the reliable and steady one, the one who knows you can't built anything long lasting on a whim or uncertainty or dishonesty

and when buck is honest about not knowing what he wants but wanting whatever it is with tommy, tommy says yes

because buck is gentle with him back, buck is considerate and seeking for permanence, too

just, you know, thinking about them

[itwoodbeprefect]

i was today years old when i realized that the orange blobs on this shirt pat wears for a good part of episode 6...

... are flowers (and rocks)...

... and not, as i fully believed, many tiny flying pomeranians. for your convenience i've prepared a visual to argue the validity of my interpretation

corporate needs you to find the difference.png

[djcarnationsblog]

AHA!! BUT YOU SEE, FOR I AM NOT FUCKIN' FINISHED BC I HAVE MOOORE FANART-

BUT THIS TIME FOR THE FANTASTIC FUCKIN' AU TMNT: MYSTIC FOREST, MADE BY THE ABSOLUTELY GODSEND MINDS @amevello-blue / @bluepeachstudios AND @wondrous-art WHO ARE WAY TOO FUCKIN' GOOD AT WORLD BUILDING AND STORY TELLING THROUGH ART AND JUST, HOLY SHIT-

and y'all gotta know, I am a fucking SUCKER for Leosagi it's actually terrible-

[mechazushi]

So, this isn't so much an "Incorrect Quotes"...

So much as an "I have a vision, but I'm not an artist so I have to settle for writing it out and hope someone understands what I'm picturing."

For starters, ya'll know about the artist trend of putting your OC's or favorite characters in a specific dress...

ya know... this one⬇

Yeah, just...ALL of Division Three. And I mean all + Narumi. Here how it sounds in my head. (Its more of a comic? It's just mostly dialogue than anything and they're just standing in a line talking to each other.) {And keep in mind....THEY ARE ALL WEARING THE DRESS AS THEY SAY THIS. ITS 90% OF THE JOKE}

Mina: When I said I was nervous about my first promotional modeling gig for Vogue, That didn't mean it was an open invitation to come out here and.... "Support me".

Kafka: Come on. This can't be any more embarrassing than that time you caught me in the sexy lingerie I was wearing for my high school prank.

Hoshina: *In air, eyes glowing woke spartan style, mid assassin strike aimed at Kafka with a training sword, ALSO IN THE DRESS* pics or it didn't happen-

Reno: Look. We're here, we showed up in the dress, can we leave now? I'm getting cold in places I don't want to be cold.

Iharu: Aww, come on! You look dashing! Few more pics! *Somehow managed to convince the photographer to take the shot of them*

Haruichi: The fact that you're filling this out better than me is disturbing.

Aoi:*Trying not to let his blush show* Are the lights getting to you because you're talking bullshit.

Minase: Oh my God! KIKORU!!!! You look amazing!!!

Kikoru:*embarrassed* Minassseee.... I-I'm with Reno. Can we change into our work jumpers now?

Hakua: Hey, can I take this one home? Makin' me feel hella confident right now. *Starts a gun show in front of a mirror.*

Narumi: *In front of the same mirror Hakua is in, serving cunt and taking selfies* Honestly, ya'll should just put me on the cover instead of Mina cuz' I'm pulling this off way better than her in the moment.

I also like to imagine that instead of Mina on the cover... It's Kafka in Kaiju form in the dress. The glowing abs would absolutely be visible as well....

[deluweil]

What in the amount of blocked bummies tell my "for you" dash that I want more loons on my dash?

Just when I thought I blocked them all, another racist bummy rears his ugly head on my for you dash and bash Eddie, before even watching S8.

Yes, we get it you joined in for the two white males and the daddy kink joke, but for the love of God at least try to watch the entire thing before spouting crap like a racist old man with a 'stache getting along with the brown haired tanned Latino on his crew, that even if he kept his head down he would still make a handsome target if only for his skin color and slight accent.

Oh and also his last name.

All you white ppl need to just shut up and see where the wind blows, before you start to sound unobjectively racist while hating the racist captain for MAYBE picking on the one white male of the group.

And how the hell are they still only five?!

I want Ravi. But that's for another post. Probably for the best, though, for him to return after Gerrard kicks it out to early forced retirement. (De ja vu anyone?)

[popping-greenbean]

EVERY DAY !!! i FACE OFF against my ANXIETY !! and EVERY! DAY! i LOSE !!!

[recitedemise]

𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿. This lengthy headcanon will refer to canon dialogue from mostly Gale, sometimes others. Reader's discretion is advised. There will be in depth explorations into grooming, emotional abuse, heavy manipulation, and suicide.

First, let it be said that Gale, a mortal man, will always be the powerless one in his dynamic with Mystra. Of course, nearing forty years of age, he remains entirely responsible for his own actions, his own blunders and every hurt he'll cause, but it's important to remember who formed much of who he is: his goddess, his deity, and egregiously, his lover.

Mystra is power. Mystra is possibility. She knows what sway she holds over her Ioyal, vulnerable, and entirely mortal followers. In all ways that matter, they are but lambs she can steer and herd as she sees fit. She knows they can't deny her and knows they'll never want to. Gale's sheer servitude and complete devotion. Mystra, knowing that, used him to filth.

Gale: I was just... practising an incantation. Player Character: No, there's more to it than that. I know devotion when I see it. Gale: What can I say? She's—she's Mystra. I can't describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence... Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation. Player Character: I didn't realize the depth of your devotion. Gale: Magic is... my life. I've been touched with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.

Gale, orb in his chest, doomed to be eaten by the very thing he loves the most, still speaks so reverently of the goddess, of his lover that has left him to die. He conjures images of her memory—and she is all the while forgetting about his.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rasheman. While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth, I thought it born of caution after some catastrophe of wizardly men-folk of old. Now, I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

Tales of Mystra's treachery spreads far, leaving those familiar waters surrounding Gale's tower in Waterdeep. They whisper her name, afraid to utter it one time too many, suspecting, perhaps, that she'll show in their mirror like some Faerûnian Bloody Mary.

Talent rouses Mystra. She can see who uses the gift of the Weave and feel them, sampling whatever delight sings their veins as they pull from her domain. Not unlike a spider, she'll follows every tremor that strikes her as just a sliver more profound; and Gale, a prodigy, plucked the Weave's web to so garner her focus. And like some black widow scurrying, she surged down that ripple to prey on a boy. There, Gale, so impressionable, was just a mite older than twelve whole summers. He sat so stunned, beholding Mystra as she lured him into the cradle of her Astral domain. Bathed in her magic, pleasantly coddled within that glittering cosmos, Gale felt blessed in a way he'll struggle always to recount, no word, no language, fit to describe it. He felt chosen. He felt seen. And potently, to a child, he felt loved. Now, imagine a child experiencing something like that. Imagine what they'd think, how brilliant they must be when stood beside the rest. She told him he was gifted, made his heart swell not unlike a child's appetite for praise. She knew what she was doing by offering these morsels, by preying on a child's most delicate mind, and Gale, child prodigy, was already so awash in the idea that his value was in magic. Unfortunately, Gale, susceptible, had no way of squirming out of his goddess' grasp.

Reality: She's laid down the seeds to creep into his heart. When he's just old enough—seventeen's sufficient, she thinks—she stakes her claim and makes him hers.

Gale: My virtuosic talent once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her chosen and her lover.

Gale is stunned when she takes him to bed the first time. (Is this really happening?) Mystra claims his mouth in a kiss, taking everything she knows he offers so willingly. Mystra, of course, is not so stunned.

Dream Visitor: An elder brain... one of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals. Gale, tasked with Mystra's missive to sacrifice himself: This is it... I must do as Mystra commands.

Gale has worryingly low self-esteem beyond his magic. As already explored, his entire worth as a man hinged on and was built entirely off his talent as a wizard. He fought tooth and nail for any crumb of affection Mystra would offer his way, something she only gave him at all seeing his gift as a child. He wants her forgiveness. He desires it genuinely. He believes so firmly that he has wronged his goddess, buying into the idea that sacrificing himself will right his wrong. She holds such dominion over him, making him reduce his confidence in himself into a mere, trifling pittance; after all, she wasn't just his lover, but the patron deity he prays to. And regardless, Gale is a people pleaser, his initial acceptance of her missive coming as no surprise.

After all, Gale, at times, goes to incredible lengths to appease his audience. This habit, compulsion, impulse, whatever you want to call it, is a quality that was relentlessly exacerbated in his relationship with his immortal paramour. He wanted to content her, felt all he did was never enough, for as a matter of principle, he was oceans, leagues, and entire galaxies beneath her. Gale figures: well, how can a short-lived dalliance satisfy a god? He had to make her happy. Indeed, he'd done everything she'd ask. He'd bedded her how she liked, kissed her how she wanted, and of course, even said those words she'd said tasted best. She was his lover, a lover that never tended to his own needs and pleasures, and he fooled himself into thinking that's enough. He won't bend backwards for everyone, mind you, but if you're of the ones he would, he would stop at nothing to make you happy. After all, people pleasing is a way to keep oneself safe, a trauma response to sidestep discomfort, and though it achieves only a direly tentative peace, when that is all you've been fed, you will pursue it.

Gale did not want to lose Mystra; he couldn't bare the sting of it. And so, when Elminster visited him, Mystra's call for his death offered oh so callously, Gale, heartbroken, felt that part of him kick up. He couldn't endure the guilt, was so hungry for a chance to let his weighty heart breathe, even if it meant dying in the process.

At least this way, he'll finally do something right. At least this way, Mystra will forgive him, and all his friends will survive.

Gale: After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I'd given up on myself.

As a byproduct of people pleasing, Gale, too, is all too quick to accept all guilt. He self-deprecates, gaslights himself to a venomous degree, and twists his reality in so cruel a way as to make him the villain Mystra'd led him to believe. He self-flagellates himself, the first one in the world who will throw Gale of Waterdeep a mental punishment. Mystra's a goddess, after all, seen as utterly faultless, and twined so tightly with a being so mighty in esteem, Gale slipped into the role of the guilty often. When tied with anyone with grandeur like this, so immeasurable in their own self worth, it's important to keep in mind this: you are nothing but a prop in which to fulfill their ego. Gale was not Mystra's, not by a long shot. Rather, Gale was a tool, simply her mortal extension.

And he took every blow meant for her... a common and terrible habit for many people in imbalanced, ego-fueled relationships.

Gale's life beyond her wasn't something that interested her. She took most of Gale's devotion, manipulated his life to be her sole mantle of attention, for Mystra is not a goddess that shares very happily.

Indeed, long before his self-imposed isolation, this jealous deity did well at keeping him isolated.

Player Character: Picture kissing him. With tenderness. Then, with passion. Gale: I... I didn't think— Narrator: You perceive quick-fire embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.

And so, cheated out of love, so reduced in his value as a man and lover both, suffice to say, Gale's slow to believe he can ever be loved. That's what happens when you're with someone so cold, consistent only in their infinite lack of respect. Gale looks at fondness, and he feels—confounded, to be sure. He thinks, is this truly mine to have? He doesn't know what to do, is nearly forty in game, and despite having lived decades devoted to one relationship, he feels, at the same time, entirely out of depth. To be frank, he greets it with embarrassment, like he's been caught red handed with something not his at all. He's like a child caught rummaging with his hand in a cookie jar, all this isn't mine to enjoy, not mine to indulge in, but he thinks, startled, but god, do I want. He wars with disbelief, uncertainty, and need, and in so many ways feeling utterly starved, with just a glimmer of affection, he falls fast into love.

Scenario: (And if properly romanced, it changes his world.)

Gale: In her (Mystra's) likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death. I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling... No god could ever compare.

He says it with sincerity. There is such wonder, such love, and such awe in his eyes. He makes the act of kissing him feel like you've just reached into the trenches to but pluck him soundly from his ruin and despair. You think, Gale Dekarios, how unloved have you been all this time?

Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… none have loved me so purely before.

The answer is: entirely.

For so long, Gale thought love was simply being chosen. He knew nothing of being favored for the quality of his character, to be cherished and accepted even in those ways he fumbles and lacks. Again, his needs were seldom met, often treated with utter indifference by Mystra herself, and to meet someone so eager to treasure him, dote on him in a way his heart, his body is somberly new to, raptures his spirit and captures his soul. He's seen for who he is. He's... loved, desired for his silly quips, his easy smiles, and his growing affections. He bares himself to them, and in turn, they cradle his heart like something entirely precious. Gale thinks this has to be dream. He says, at times, you are more than I deserve.

Scenario: (But sometimes, he hopes too strongly and loves too greatly. As it always does, then, like he's once more wanted too much, he watches something beautiful slip right through his fingers. Of course, Gale Dekarios. Of course it does.)

Player Character: I didn't know you felt so strongly, Gale. Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.

They don't love him anymore. It breaks his heart. He hurts so much, so profoundly and deeply, and he doesn't realize that he breaks their heart in turn.

Unable to ever voice his feelings with Mystra in any way that amounted to much, Gale's a tendency to wallow, expressions coming off as potentially 'guilt-tripping' and even, on occasion, passive aggressive. Firstly: Gale NEVER means to manipulate emotions, and he's no intention of twisting anyone's arm, either. Fact is, Gale, never taken seriously when he'd bared his vulnerabilities to the Mother of the Weave, can end up saying just a little too much. He feels very deeply, and for most his life, seldom had an outlet for these weeping sentiments. He sometimes lets slip raw words and oftentimes heart-wrenching expressions; all the same, it's not so pitiful as to shepherd an outcome, but rather, is a gesture taken by a man so desperate to be heard. It may feel like scheming, but the truth is far, far greyer: feeling as though he's no right to share the depth of his heart, Gale simply lets it geyser out in a way he can't cork up. In ways he doesn't realize, he's adapted to this ache, passively reacting so his feelings can at least be seen and recognized—no matter how pitifully unwhole. With someone who values so little his thoughts... well, when he slips into these moods, one can hardly feign shock.

Situation: (And if no one shows him trust and tenderness, any true care in his character or worth, Gale gets swallowed up by how wronged he was.

He thinks: Let me be a god. Let no one hurt like me anymore.)

Gale: They only want us to serve them, pray to them...and ultimately, to die for them. But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to? I could make that happen.

Gale is not above anger, and as stated, he is not above pettiness; however, more than that, he is not above righting himself whatever wound he was struck. Gale, if not offered much by ways of affection, understanding, is made to believe that one idea that's lived growing in his mind: Gale Dekarios is far from sufficient; he has to be more. He has to be better. Gale, in such an unkind ending for himself, sips too desperately—and perhaps greedily, too, but desperately serves as a far better word—at that idea that he needs power. And so, wresting the Crown of Karsus for himself, he spites Mystra in his own way, becoming a god he feels is leagues better than she will ever be. Damn her thoroughly. Damn her ego, her power, and her endless indifference. He will serve the people, protect them, and in ways Mystra never could, better the world.

Situation: But as a god, he loses all sense of his kindness. Humanity. All who loved him leave him, and even Tara spurns the image he's become. With power, he's gained the respect he thought he always wanted... but in turn, he lost in even greater measure all the love he's known.

Endnote: But healing, knowing to forgive himself and knowing he's deserving of care simply for being Gale Dekarios will remain, always, the best path for him.

[tommystummy]

.

[moeblob]

I'm on an OC kick and also super indecisive so I spun a wheel (thank you for choosing for me, RNG).

Ricardo is a body guard and is bffs with Marlo. Ricardo's current job is watching after a celebrity's daughter who the public doesn't know even exists. She's just a teenage girl vibing with her mom and getting texts and calls from her dad (who loves her a whole lot and keeps her out of the spotlight very purposefully) and has this bodyguard and his weird friend. Marlo is just vibing with his best friend.

(Also Marlo would absolutely laugh if he heard Ricardo say "someone called me eye candy and it wasn't you and now I think you should call me that")

[windydrawallday]

Found some character notes about [Marauder Lockdown] 's optic colors I did just for myself but tweaked it a bit to post for the ones curious! (Sorry if something reads funny, didn't check my English).

I like to HC that these bots' optics fluctuate naturally through analogous colors, two that can switch voluntarily most of the time and one as a visual alert when in lack of maintenance.

Because I barely render and doodle him a lot, these notes are rarely followed up by me except when writing him pfff

[babytrapperdiaz]

something about the chemistry between work partners on a network procedural >>

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hi!! Same anon from the comfort question! That's so sweet and cute thank for that!! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

now Im imagining Eddie "the southern gentleman" Dear having a mini telenovela moment while the horrors happened, he's all like "oh, I am too late, I slept too long; he is with another and have too let him go" even sad music in the background

Meanwhile Frank is cuddling Wally AND Eddie after beating the shit out o f the horror, the man need a break and also be like "this is the 3 one this week I miss my garden"

I holding onto 'frank would hold on to you like a barnacle' to Eddie after so long talking to a fake one

that is pretty much Exactly how it goes in my head lmfao - and like, the thing is that Frank & Eddie weren't really together when Shit Went Down? they were in that "we're mutually courting & neither of us has said anything outright yet but we both Know and are waiting for the right moment" stage yk yk?

so when he wakes up Frank isn't immediately all over him, cause he's kinda like "oh shit where do we stand? im not used to this, i haven't talked to Eddie in so so long! how do relationships work?!" so that + his easy & affectionate behavior with Wally creates a Perceived Emotional Distance & Romantic Disinterest from Eddie's pov. like no, hon, Frank's just rusty <3 and also unsure if he Should pursue their relationship because he's slowly fucking dying & does he want to hurt Eddie like that???

[black-and-yellow]

OJ2 my beloved/hated

[cerealmonster15]

ummm goober time sketchy doodle time w/heartslabyul.......... adeuce + lil babby crushies...

i think adeuce would enter that "no homo but tbh a lil homo" era of bestieship and be in mega denial before they realize their own feelings

also not necessarily ship exactly, but like i could see adeuce havin lil tiny crushes on treycay when they first enter the school fjdkshg like caters vibe matches ace + trey is that responsible upperclassman lookin after the freshies and i think juice would admire him [he admires like most of the older students tho it's soooo cute]

and then same reasoning for deuce w/riddle... riddle being sweet to deuce w/ his math struggles in deuces dorm story my beloved... + ace has that one thing he says about riddle in his ghost bride event card story where he was like "yeah he looked so cool bursting into the room i wanna work hard and be cool like him" and tbh sounded like a boycrush in denial.

[weebsinstash]

I don't think I'd ever have the stones to actually do it but I feel like it'd be socially acceptable if I wrote a hazbin fic and just put my whole pussy in it and have Reader sing a song and yes I DO mean your ass would be reading lyrics

[ckret2]

The source of light is a completely hypothetical phenomenon.

Just a couple of centuries ago, scientists postulated that perhaps light was a side-effect of magnetism generated by the poles of planets, and that someday the study of magnets might explain how light shifted over the course of a day.

But modern scientists theorized that light emanated from some force or object in a higher dimension, and that the unseen movements of this source-of-light explained how light ebbed and flowed around the perimeters of objects over the course of a day. Physics experiments backed up this hypothesis of a "third dimensional" origin of light.

Scientists adopted the term "sun" to describe this hypothetical light source. Experiments also suggested the third dimension might have a multitude of weaker light sources that provided much less illumination—perhaps spread across the third dimension like water droplets suspended in fog—which they dubbed "stars."