#she is legitimately such a kind person

[buffyspeak]

aria montgomery deserved better 2kforever like. in these first two seasons, her relationship with ezra is hard to watch (in more ways than one! i sometimes find myself rooting for them not to get caught, largely because i like and have sympathy for aria but also because the actors do genuinely have good chemistry. but then i remember how fucked up it is! that’s why the romanticization of this relationship was so dangerous!) - anyway. it was hard to watch and messy but she also had like. other things in her story that at least made her feel like a more fleshed out character. and i always see people saying things about how she’s not as kind as she acts like but she literally shows so much empathy to. most people. and her role as a psuedo caretaker/fixer in her family is so nuanced and interesting and informs a lot of how she interacts with ezra (she feels like she’s been forced into a more adult role, so she courts this adult ‘romance’. ugh.) and it legitimately could have been a nuanced and interesting story about family dynamics and the pressure on teenage girls in their roles in family and how that can be connected to grooming if it had been written that way but!!!!

anyway her story just becomes more and more entangled with Only Being About Ezra from what i remember. which is one of the reasons people kept theorizing about her being A but. i just see it as isolation (not total, she is obviously still very close with her friends, but there is a sort of disconnect.) and then they get MARRIED????? she deserved better for real.

[thewhizzyhead]

I know that this brainfart is like a "well fucking duh" moment given that Barrett wilbert weed originated both musical Veronica and Janis, but like,,,auli'i cravalho could make for a good musical movie veronica and I mean that genuinely

[blackjackkent]

Rakha enters the Counting House's high security vault on a balcony overlooking the main floor. It's an enormous room but mostly empty except for three people standing around a single chest at its center - a dwarf in a fine silk tunic and two guards armored like the ones upstairs.

No sign of Minsc. Jaheira has described him and he is definitely not any of these people.

"It's still... moving..." one of the guards quavers nervously, looking at the chest with an expression of deep anxiety.

Rakha's head tilts to one side and she squints. The chest gives an almost imperceptible twitch.

"Hush your fussing," the dwarf says irritably, pulling a pipe from his pocket and sticking it into his mouth. "Nine-Fingers had this one made especially. That little mouthful will barely slow it down."

(A/N: "Made"? This line raises a lot of questions about mimic biology and reproduction. Also, one of Glitterbeard's guards has Hector's face with an undercut and no beard, but the right eye color more or less, which is amusing me.)

"But the stories..." The guard wrings her hands.

"Stories," the dwarf scoffs. "Tall tales and big names." He pokes his pipe at the other guard, who is looking at his comrade anxiously. "Don't let them fool you, lad. Elminster the archmage. Drizzt the drow exlie. Heroes have power, aye - but not half so much as we do." He flicks his fingers, and Rakha watches with mild interest as fire flares up around his fingers, with which he lights his pipe before inhaling a mouthful of smoke.

"A little coin in the right purse," he murmurs pensively. "A soft word in the right ear. It's not glory that spins these planes, lad. It's gold. See? Now--"

He breaks off abruptly. The chest has given another distinct twitch, and this time its accompanied by a low, moaning growl that sets the hair standing up on the back of Rakha's neck.

She has only a moment to process what's happening, but it's long enough. She's seen this before, a creature disguising itself as a chest - in Grymforge, and in Moonrise Towers. A mimic, Wyll called it. A creature that is mouth and teeth and tongue and very little else, and would have swallowed her whole if she'd let it.

Extrapolation flick-flicks through Rakha's brain like lightning. The visitor logs said Minsc was here only minutes ago, led here by Glitterbeard, the bank's manager. Nine-Fingers said she instructed that he be killed. Jaheira has described Minsc as a behemoth, dangerously violent, and with his own streak of madness to match Rakha's.

There are only so many ways to safely kill such a man. One of them, Rakha imagines, is having him swallowed by a mimic.

Mmmm... whispers the beast in her brain. Too quick. Too clean. No mess left behind to show the deed was done. And yet... perhaps not so easy as they think...

The mimic gives another low moan, its whole body spasming and the eyes embedded in its "wood" flesh opening wide. And then a fist explodes outward from between its teeth.

Blood spatters across the ground. The scent fills Rakha's nose and her vision goes white at the corners. She grips the balcony railing, struggling to regain control, and watches in astonishment as a huge, muscular form uncurls itself from within the mimic's body, ripping its jaw upward with a sickening crack.

The mimic screams and shudders to stillness, its tongue lolling out along the stone floor. Minsc - for certainly this is Minsc - straightens up, his eyes bright with rage as he glares down at the dwarf.

"There is no gold in here!" he bellows, pointing at the dead mimic. With a grunt, he lifts the whole creature up by its tongue and hurls it aside.

"If there is one thing Minsc hates more than beasts with bad breath," he growls. "It is those who are tricksome with the truth."

His head cocks to one side, and then he smiles, showing all of his teeth. "And turnips. But you are no turnip! Let that be a comfort to you in your final moments!"

At Rakha's side, Jaheira laughs suddenly - a sound Rakha has never heard from her before. Every muscle in her body has relaxed with sudden visible relief and her eyes have brightened as she steps forward eagerly. "Meet Minsc!" she says cheerfully. "He still seems very much himself to me."

Rakha grunts. The smell of blood from the eviscerated mimic is still plucking angrily at the strings of her brain, and it is taking most of her available effort to retain control of herself. If this is Minsc, Jaheira can handle the reunion without her.

(Part of her is intrigued, attentive. Just as she has been led to believe, she can already see something of herself in this huge behemoth of a man - the rage and edge of madness in his eyes. The brute force ripping and tearing of flesh and teeth. But there will be time to understand that when she can breathe again.)

Let Jaheira reveal herself.

Jaheira steps forward, letting her boots click loudly against the marble of the floor. Minsc stiffens at once, turning to look up - and his eyes widen, seeing her face.

"You..." he hisses.

There is something strange in his eyes - it does not look like happy recognition. Surely Jaheira sees it too - but just as surely, she doesn't want to. Her smile takes on a forced quality. "Stone Lord?" she calls down teasingly. "Better to call yourself Stone-Head."

(A/N: For once when I say in my writing that there's a long silence, I actually mean it - there was a good fifteen seconds of Jaheira and Minsc just staring at each other with Minsc looking increasingly puzzled. XD )

A long silence passes, during which Minsc's expression shows his inward struggle to parse what Jaheira has said. Then his expression goes very dark, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Your false face does not fool my eyes!" he roars. "I will cut until you look like the monster you are!"

The words resonate inside Rakha's head. The beast keens eagerly. Yes, cut, cut, cut... spill her blood, spill all their blood, rip out their throats and then we shall rip out yours, Minsc of Rashemen--

Jaheira's brief moment of relief has vanished. She has gone utterly still and a muscle is working in her jaw. "Somehow you are making even less sense than usual," she says hoarsely.

And then a voice, all too familiar, echoes across the vault. "Perhaps I can explain!"

It's Jaheira's voice.

And at the far end of the room stands... Jaheira. Or someone who looks like her, at least. Her skin shimmers with the lingering Weave-ripples of the teleportation spell they have seen before, the one used by the Absolutists and the nautiloid. She raises one eyebrow, her lips curled in an unpleasant smirk.

Understanding once again cracks through Rakha like a whip. A shapeshifter - one of Orin's doppelgangers, this time wearing Jaheira's face. But not quite her manner; the smirk is too hard, too cold, and her voice rasps with a disdain that, even in the worst moments, Rakha has never seen from her companion.

"The Stone Lord sees through your lies, shapeshifter!" she barks up at Jaheira. Her voice rings like a bell in the high-ceilinged room. "Count yourself lucky he cannot stay." She turns the sharp edge of her glare down towards the dwarf next to the dead mimic. "Nine-Fingers set a poor trap, little banker. Let the Absolute's faithful show you how it is done."

The Weave rocks. From every corner of the room, figures with weapons and spiked armor shiver out of the dark. Absolutists. Bhaalists. Rakha's staves are out in her hands before she has fully registered what is happening.

"Now come, Stone Lord!" the imposter barks. "We have the gold - and the Absolute has need of it elsewhere."

For a long moment, Minsc does not move, just looks up at Jaheira - the true Jaheira - with narrowed eyes. Then he turns. "As you say, Jaheira," he rumbles. Crossing the room with a few enormous strides, he moves to the imposter's side.

The imposter's smirk widens. And then there's another flash of dark energy, and they're gone, and the cultists begin to close ranks on all sides.

Jaheira has gone very pale with fury and alarm. She pulls her scimitars free, but there is no time for her to do anything but watch as her friend disappears in the Absolutists' company.

"Stlarning shapechangers!" she roars, almost matching Minsc in thunderous volume despite her smaller frame. "Enough - let us deal with these cultists, then find out where they are nesting!"

[un-pearable]

i get it. i really do. i know jay is sexist. especially in s1. but it’s so obviously an intentional choice that the writers know is a bad thing to be. they were trying to do a sokka. obviously it didn’t work but authorial intent does still matter

[taterdraws]

Hiii you’re actually not that far away from reality with morning star = sun, bc in Rome where Luciferus was an incarnation of Venus it was “the first star” on the horizon, right before the sun outshines it. Lucifer is our beautiful darling ☀️

Your art is so good thank you for the food ❤️����🫡

hiii! bfdkjbg ugh i know there were reasons why it is Venus and i would not be miffed about it if not for the fact that the sun is right there. i will be deranged in the tags.

and aaaaah thank you kindly!!!!! ❤️🥹i love drawing these fuckers so i'm so glad you like the art <3

[douubles]

context for what "maybe" means in the tags

[shiverhohojiro]

beyond figuring out what an oc's actual title would be, I think it is fun to determine what title pieces they'd be drawn to using... How they'd describe themselves, what they think is funny. Sometimes along the way you find out who would use the head suffix for nefarious purposes.

[bonefall]

Same anon again- hearing your reasoning helps a lot, thank you. It helps to understand its a (unfortunately for bramblestar, funny) critique of a personality trait rather then connecting intelligence to morals. Thank you for explaining your thought process and for being civil about it < 3

No problem!! I'm glad it helped!

[anthromimicry]

sorry, halsey — hopeless fountain kingdom.

[wheatstar]

the thing about warrior cats that bothers me the most is that there are so many writing decisions that COULD be really interesting but i know the authors probably didnt mean it in that interesting way so instead i just get disappointed over and over again

[mabelsguidetolife]

i am in shock……

[singharit]

.

[kerra-and-company]

6 and 22 for Ari!

Ari interview hours 2k23, tyty :D!

6. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

Ari blinks. Blinks again, just a bit too fast. "I had to get Lifa back to the Citadel. Pol was already gone, and..." She shakes her head and growls a little in frustration--the sort of frustration one has when attempting to prevent emotional overflow and on the verge of failing. "Couldn't get them all. Save who you can save, I guess, huh?"

22. What’s the easiest way to flirt with you?

Ari looks confused for a second, then shrugs. "Well, if this question is you trying to flirt--don't know who told you I was available, but they lied. Shoot your shot somewhere else."

Cio, who's fiddling with a gyro at a desk nearby, looks up and grins wide. She puts her tools down, cocks her head to the side, and crosses her arms. "Can't believe you're not answering that--what if I wanted tips?"

Ari turns to look at her, her mouth curling slowly into a matching smile. "You think you need tips, Sparks? Really?"

Cio shrugs, grin even wider now. "Would you like to give me some?"

(Sensing that they're about to be far too distracted to talk with you further, you leave quickly, feeling like the question was simultaneously not answered and answered completely.)

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[wowreally0102]

how happy can you really be when you’re reading paragraphs upon paragraphs of people against your very existence whenever you log on is my question

[insanechayne]

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