#with fake money

[metaphorically-saltire]

Highlight quotes from when my class watched 92sies today (it was hilarious)

When Les earned that quarter from drinking the beer: "DRUNKIEEE!!" "WAIT ISN'T HE LIKE 5 ??"

When KONY: "WAIT HE CAN SPIN SO FAST"

When Newsies vs The World pt. 1 (aka Crutchie's gone :( ) : "I love violence!! Tanks for choosing this Salt! :D"

When Jack stole one of the DeLancey brother's hats (yes i forgot which one it was lmao): "YOOOO RUN"

When Les feel asleep after Medda's how: "Drunkie had another shot"

Fun day :]

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[autisticat23]

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[lkfarrout]

Headcanon that before weirdmaggedon, while cleaning out the basement, Ford finds a box full of his PHD dissertations, printed out:

F: That's it, Stan. You can take my name and my house, but distributing MY research and claiming it's yours is a whole other level of insulting.

S: What the hell are you talking about? I didn't "distribute" anything of yours.

F: Then why do you have these? *waves the papers in Stan's face* Where did you get them?

S: I paid for those, Poindexter. Printed them off the online database your college has.

F: For what purpose?

S: Because I wanted to read them? Did it ever occur to you that I might have missed you all these years?

F: Oh... well, which one was your favorite?

S: Beyond the Known: A Study of Cryptids, Anomalies, and the Unseen Forces of Nature was pretty good.

F: You think so? I was always proud of that one... wait did you say you had to pay for them?

[stardewkel]

tier list of whether the villagers were aware or not that they are in a video game before you told them

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny feels bad for Damian. Not bad enough to stop doing what he’s doing, but still bad. He doesn’t deserve to be led on about their relationship like this.

Danny has no idea how the rich boy even noticed a nobody like him, but when Damian had asked him out to lunch, he’d jumped at the chance to have a proper meal. And when it became a repeat thing, he chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Until one time Damian had clarified that he wanted it to be a date, and he froze.

His first instinct was to say no. Damian did seem like a fine person, but Danny wasn’t romantically interested in him. He should have said no, but the refusal stuck in his throat. Their meals were first time he’d felt properly full in a long while. Being a homeless runaway didn’t make for easy finances, and homeless shelters and soup kitchens weren’t aways available (especially since in Gotham, some were just fronts).

So he said yes.

He could play along. It wasn’t like dating was a declaration of anything permanent. Plenty of people dated and then broke up. And it wasn’t like he was going to drain the boy’s bank account, just… use the situation to keep himself afloat until he could find something better.

…not that the justifications make the ruse any less painful

[illusoryfem]

another_day_at_the_AAAAAAffice

[shirecorn]

Tumblr keeps popping up to sell me ad free dashboard. But what it doesn't understand is that me and the ads have a sort of symbiosis at this point.

The guys from the fake gameplay trailers for a predatory mobile app are my blorbos

[fisheito]

(3) remaining

[jesncin]

seeing a lot of "if you want non Bats or Supes characters to get more comics you have to actually buy the comics to support niche characters" especially in response to supporting Absolute Martian Manhunter (who the team admits has historically been a tough sell).

While I get it, it's also just so overly simplistic to blame consumers to have to work against a broken capitalistic system. It doesn't take into account that publishers don't invest in marketing, that pre-order sales are everything (which relies on readers knowing these titles exist months in advance, pre-ordering it ideally at a local comic book store, if there even is a comic book store nearby, if the title isn't axed due to poor sales, etc) and that sometimes you just don't want to monetarily support a run anymore even if it has your beloved niche character attached to it.

maybe it's because I'm fresh off of Dead In America but I think it's unreasonable to keep insisting fans need to throw money at runs that weren't good or worse yet had horribly offensive depictions of marginalized characters just "to get more Constantine comics!". I get giving writers/artists chances to improve especially how even with all its faults, Hellblazer 2019 was extremely promising so "hopefully the depiction of sign language improves in the next run" is a reasonable thing to believe, but we got to see what a continuation of the run is like. It was a racist + ableist mess that had a Black character constantly brutalized and then had his disability "cured". There's only so much grace readers (especially marginalized readers) can give to a run like that.

So yes, support the comics and characters you want to see with your money. But also, maybe I don't want to use my money to send DC Comics the message "I like that John Jones is white this time" just to see more Martian Manhunter comics. Maybe I subjectively don't like the sound of the pitch, and would rather spend my money on Absolute Wonder Woman.

[nataliedecorsair]

My Pticenoga is finally in the Borderlands series now! ...I wish lol. It’s a screenshot edit + draw-in I made for fun, presenting how Hedwig would look like in the game, both human and harpy/siren versions. Maybe I’ll actually learn Blender and make her model in the future, we’ll see. At least Vaughn can enjoy some double trouble here xD (his model was made by mcemily + I applied some edits in photoshop) An old fake screenshot can be found here UPD: I made an “in-game” scene, just because I can

UPD2: added come cursed thing I made a couple of months ago but forgot about it lol

[elftwink]

to preface this post i am anti-advertising i think we should explode the entire industry but it's sooo funny when you people make posts like "and they don't even work!!" like. sorry to be the bearer of bad news but yes they do. that's why we have to put up with so many despite everyone hating them and thinking its annoying. because they actually work really well and make a shit load of money

[arsenicflame]

steddyhands au where Stede & Izzy start fake dating to scam a load of money (either to secure Stede's inheritance, or just like a classic wedding gift scam or something) but they also still both kinda hate each other and are constantly bickering, and keep slipping up and raising suspicion & have to dig themselves a deeper and deeper lie to keep the ruse up

(meanwhile, Stede AND Izzy have independently started fucking Ed behind each others back. Ed thinks hes seeing a wonderful polyamorous couple who just arent interested in threesomes, meanwhile Izzy and Stede are desperately trying to keep the other from finding out theyre sleeping with someone else)

(yes they hate each other and arent even dating for real. yes they are sneaking Ed behind the others back like its a real affair. its stizzy)

[padawansuggest]

Mace: Why did the guards keep you two overnight in the cells?

Obi-Wan: Well, we were hanging out in an alleyway, like we always do on weekends, and Quinlan said he found a dead body. So I ran over cause I took that healing course that one time but obviously it wasn’t strong enough, because, the body was missing a head.

Quinlan: Yup yup, so I tried a necromancer’s enchantment on it because Ventress said it was a faster way to find out who killed them than touching the body, but the enchantment dust she gave me turned out to just be glitter, and we contaminated the crime scene.

Padawan Ventress: In my defense, I didn’t think he was that stupid.

Quinlan: That’s your own fault, don’t lay that one on me!

Obi-Wan: And that’s when the guard came and I started crying because they said they’ll call our parents but we don’t have parents so I started crying instead and they took pity on us and gave us somewhere to sleep off the alcohol.

Mace: …*rubbing his temples from the headache* Kenobi, grow a beard already, I’m tired of people confusing you for a teenager. Knight Vos, remove me from your emergency contacts list. Ventress, /always/ assume they’re that stupid. *leaves them with a temple guard to escort them to their quarters as house arrest guards*

[twetterbirdy]

First •   Prev • Next • Usernames • Masterlist