#freeflowers
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Remix Rumble Unit Art - Battle of the Golden Spatula (CN TFT)
#ahri#bard#ezreal#ekko#kayle#lulu#nami#thresh#caitlyn#league of legends#league of legends skins#remix rumble#k/da ahri#jazz bard#freeflow bard#heartsteel ezreal#true damage ekko#pentakill kayle#hyperpop lulu#glitt3rb0mb lulu#space groove nami#high noon thresh#arcade caitlyn#unit art#battle of the golden spatula#official
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Hey, I get I've been raving about Astarion a lot but, like, are there ACTUALLY people out here who hate Gale and are calling him an incel? Is this a thing? Thank God I apparently curate well bc holy fucking shit I would be having heart palpitations DAILY out of SHEER ANGER.
So, like, we're always going to make fun of our faves and whatnot bc lbr "bro, you were banging Mystra and fucked up that bad?" THOUGH TO BE FAIR, if you're a wizard it isn't that hard to bang Mystra. It's kind of her thing. P sure her banging Elminster as many times as she has is the main reason he's still kicking and out being the Faerûnian Gandalf that he is in-game. Mystra's bodycount aside (especially since that has ZERO bearing on ANYTHING least of all her portfolio and purpose), like, Gale is a very intelligent man. He is also what we would consider as an objectively good person. Save the kids, help the tieflings, be kind and compassionate to those the average "good" aligned folks would consider "worthy" and yeah. He is literally the Alistair Theirin of BG3 if you Fusion Danced him together with Awakening Anders.
That being said, he is also very deeply flawed in that he KNOWS he is brilliant and in that brilliance, knowing his own talent, he thinks he knows better than even his own goddess BUT-! But, but, but, he is mortal, is young enough and in an age to not be able to wrack up the accomplishments of, say, Elminster whom he clearly knows on a fairly personal level so, like anyone who knows they are capable of doing great things, he feels INFERIOR bc he hasn't, in his mind, PROVEN that he is as great as he knows he is. And that's the hubris of mortality.
Objectively, LOGICALLY, he knows that he's more than proven himself capable. Mystra wouldn't have started a relationship with him otherwise, and she never asked him to prove himself. It was his own desperation to prove that he was worthy of her and thinking he knew EVERYTHING that lead to his terrible situation. Is he very clinical and logical about it? Yes. Is he squirrelly about it in the beginning? Very much, yes. Hell, I would be. No one wants to be friends with a literal ticking time bomb and the man is VERY lonely. Hell, that's the name of the game baybee! Baldur's Gate 3: These Bitches Need a Hug; YES EVEN LAE'ZEL, I WILL FIGHT Y'ALL!
Back to Gale, your friendship with him is something he very much treasures and when he starts all his finger wiggling and magic talk he's like any nerd sharing the thing he is most passionate about. He is also the first to admit he fucked up. HOWEVER, that does not (imo) warrant him needing to sacrifice himself all for Mystra's forgiveness, and even Elminster isn't on board with that. And, like, when he talks about Mystra it's never in an accusatory manner towards her. He clearly still loves her, likely always will, but that never negates his love for the PC who chooses to romance him. He is also very much prone to falling into the same pitfall of hubris that got him before and very clearly needs guidance that, yes, Mystra clearly did neglect in giving him. But he never outright blames her, at least he's not in my playthroughs thus far even after having spoken with her in the temple. He's just a sad, lonely nerd and that does not automatically make him an incel; y'all just don't know how to read, listen, or understand nuance. Apparently.
tl;dr
Gale deserves as much love as Astarion but bc he isn't evil "babygirl" material that's "fixable" he's just called an incel when he can be a very genuine friend, but what are those nowadays I guess?
#bg3#gale of waterdeep#this was a rant#unhinged and freeflowing#bc I'm mad lol#it's like Gale is suffering the same shit as Lae'zel#bitches hate a brusque and blunt woman who won't immediately like them#and people also hate men who aren't uwu enough for them#which is another problem altogether but I digress#though honestly Gale and Shadowheart seem to have more similar points for comparison#on the just absolutely random hatred they get#granted Shadowheart and Lae'zel get it more bc how dare the tiddies not like me IMMEDIATELY#anyway these are all my weird children#my freakish found family#and I love them all very much
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Midnight shimmy
"Be silly, be honest , be kind ." Ralph Waldo Emerson
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I've been sitting on this for SO LONG
With the adition of Celeste into the squad, they can now tackle ghosts and other supernatural entities.
Celeste ain't scared, Garrett is very scared.
#adventure squad#goat man#original characters#sketchbook#buzzfeed unsolved#squad cast#garrett freeflower#cooper bullettooth#celeste elvar
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am i allowed to give my witcher OCs and witcher characters with no canon design silly little hats…
maybe the answer is “not only allowed am i Allowed, but i am Compelled and even moreso—Required”
#txt#i sooo want to design a Silly Hat for nimue#i think i am because cdpr did it and tbh it was kind of fire asf… but it didnt always fit the characters they designed…#first thing you should know about the witcher: everyone has some kind of headgear. headband hat little band or tie or whatever#except probably some sorceresses because they have their Freeflowing Hair but even so like visenna and assire have/had headwear#honestly im really interested in nilfgaardian sorceress fashion because it’s supposed to be more modest/less caring about impressing people#and i wonder if some of that attitude bled into / mixed northern attitudes after the witch hunts!!#a modest northern sorceress is a HILARIOUS idea in the mid 1200s but maybe is not so strange in the 1300s or even 1400s#i also think it would be interesting because we typically think of fashion getting more provocative and less covering as time goes on#but that really doesn’t have to be the case at all + i think it would be interesting to see the effect of cold weather and climate change#on fashion particularly women’s fashion and necklines. i know sorceresses can magic themselves to not be cold but why use magic if you could#just put more fabric on? it’s such a fuss and anyways i’m rambling but i just would love to explore a logical progression of fashion
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Caught between a rock and a hard place
Not feeling so good.
one cigarette too many,
i don't fly as high or spin as fast anymore on twice as many drags;
and now i hate that i cant scrub the smell from my hands.
My breasts are heavy with the shame of telling my birdie how much i care for her. its embarassing, to let her know how much i love her. i hate that she'll find out. i hate that she spent so much time picking out birthday gifts for me, and how
and how much , and how deseperately, we want to please each other,
for different reasons and not all at the same time.
No, she's not beige at all,
the color of a new yellow chick would be more fitting.
With a heavy heart, i must accept my squirelly friend will not visit me. I try and accept it's her having a hard time,
but when you spend hours on the phone with someone helping them book a ticket to your home, and telling them all the marvelous things you'll do together,
only for her to say- weeks later, she never booked a ticket-
it's hard not to hurt.
And hurt i do.
i will grieve this lost future time, and for her as well. I wonder when, or if, we'll speak next.
for my racoon, i wonder why you sent me those meaningless words and read my earnest response and did not say anthing back. was it a revenge, to get back at me? That's okay, and i'm sorry, and i'll never know why, but the shame will eat me up inside regardless.
no matter how many times my hummingbird will tell me she loves me,
and she'll say it everytime i ask her,
i won't believe her.
it's hard to believe her love is so unconditional.
when people do things for me, i'm always shocked they do. i try to measure their love; when will i realise i'll never succeed.
i'm simply caught between a rock and hard place. Maybe I'll die here, or maybe i will make my way out, back to the ocean.
i need to breathe, after all.
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warmth of a burning cabin/freeflow
I’ve been stuck in a space between my mind and body. Disconnected from the realities of challenges I'm faced with day to day. What is it about these hurdles that I find so hard to get around? I believe it may have something to do with my floating bones, caught in the air, hovering just above the ground. I can smell the rain-drenched earth, it floods my senses and overwhelms my system.
I long for the days when I’d go to bed so excited for the new light, my giddy smile so whole it’s like a lighthouse for the souls that strayed beyond their path. I hold the ability to recognize my consciousness in such a way that allows me to observe my mind's afflictions; blessed and cursed with such a perspective. It allows me to indulge the validity of my thoughts. A warm, fire-soaked cabin within my mind that lets me escape the harsh realities of my story and take the time to reflect on my needs. Although sometimes, my cabin is dressed in hues of gray, the roofing begins to give way, and in the blink of an eye, the fire containing my warmth erupts and engulfs the safety I’ve created within the walls of my mind.
There’s something comforting in knowing the unpredictable power of the elements around us. Submitting to the earth and understanding the little amount of control we really have. As much disdain I hold for the moments when my cabin is erupting into flames, it reminds me to plant my feet in the mud, to breathe the air that continues to revitalize my soul, and to remember how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of our mothers' world.
We are meant to live and die just as everything else. My life wouldn’t be lived if I didn’t connect with these intense emotional battles because life is pain. It’s inevitable to feel as though you’ve sunken far beyond the earth's surface when you get a taste of what’s in the clouds.
To live is to love and to love is to hurt. It’s a cycle that will never end, as much stability as you may crave, you never know when the next earthquake will shake the photos from your walls and transform what stands around you. And so it’s important to remember that everyone's cabin goes through renovations. We all have moments when the light pouring through window panes falls so perfectly on the walls of our home, highlighting the most beautiful pieces of what surrounds us. Though there are also moments for us all when we want to block the light from touching us, we drape the curtains over the window and lock our doors so no one can come near.
That’s life, our job is finding a healthy balance between the two and fighting like hell against the ever changing landscapes, remembering how quickly everything you’ve come to know can change, and being willing to accept and grow within the new environment you now stand in.
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It’s as if I have walked through those lanes multiple times. Like I have lived in that misty weather and deep green forest and heard the wood crackle in the fireplace my entire life. Sometimes it will be some music, or some fragrance, or some figment from the deep recesses of my subconscious that I am beckoned to that place. Maybe somewhere in England? Scotland? Or Ireland?
There is a sight, I am walking back to my cottage, wearing by black coat and handbag and an umbrella coz the roads are still glistening and reflecting the warm streetlights.
And then the mist blankets the whole town. The warm lights from the windows of the lone bookstore, and the fortune teller’s attic room smudges with the twilight. It’s as if Neptune and Venus were undergoing a benevolent aspect and creating this half visible half make-believe scenario. Is it a dream? Maybe go visit the Buddhist cafe where calming chants just elevate your vibrations and the ginger honey tea will take you back to a bittersweet memory of sipping tea with your parents at a parking lot outside a cafe in some average town when a life-threatening pandemic had restricted the movement.
You are knitting; a muffler for it’s so simple to make and gives off an impression that you care for whoever you are gifting it to. Now crocheting an envelope to keep a love letter warm for the man you love(d?) has been so cold you think if you send it off the feelings weaved in like the first knot knit by a toddler’s hands, may just disintegrate and fall through. Failing its purpose. But at least you learnt how to weave, knit, create, think because your heart compelled you to devour whatever morsel of hope, whatever little glimmer of basic decency made you think that yhos was worth knitting and making that man feel the warmth that resides in your heart.
But is it warmth? Or just fumes of a deeply suppressed inferno scarring your insides coz if you let the lid off all shall be consumed. Better to implode and shattering yourself to pieces, right?
Complexities. I am back to the shaman’s cafe. Of course I am carrying my crochet needle. Because I am always weaving. When I was seven I weaved a string of thoughts to create an entire script of how love will fill my life once I grow up and not every relationship is about not talking for months, violence, strangling your lover with the same hands that you held while you palpitated before entering a dark room. I have been weaving these thoughts into scarves, sweaters, sometimes they are red sweaters with stains of orange and black because the story always needs variation. The good, the bad. Sometimes they are bright pink bikinis made when I feel like exploding in my sexuality and intense hunger for a warmth. But it’s always an implosion, fireworks going off in my brain, a deep sigh of relief once I free all that fantastical image of making love with the actor/singer you saw on your YouTube shorts.
I always carry a stock of loose yarn because I am always ready with a crochet to create something. Doesn’t matter if some knots are too tight and too loose. When I finish knitting my work, it is a continuation of thoughts committed to create something. Of course I will always knit tangible intangible things/feelings/entire worlds. They have been my only true companion since I was a child. I am after all my mother’s child who wore sweaters, caps, mufflers she knit to keep me warm in winters.
And I am back to that intrinsic feeling: mist, warm lights, tarot, Buddhist mantras, tea, and always a yarn and a needle.
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ILLBEATS Illaoi, Maestro Jhin, Jazz Bard, Hyperpop Lulu & Ziggs - Legends of Runeterra Splash Art
#illaoi#jhin#bard#lulu#ziggs#legends of runeterra#illbeats illaoi#maestro jhin#jazz bard#freeflow bard#hyperpop lulu#hyperpop ziggs#glitt3rb0mb lulu#glitt3rb0mb ziggs#legends of runeterra skins#legends of runeterra splash art#splash art#skins#official
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Freeflow: Wait, we can get old? I thought we were robots.
Genos: It’s a genetic condition, really.
Freeflow: What does that even mean?
it means i think the skin looks cool, freeflow
#the sims 2#ts2#sims 2#simblr#sims 2 gameplay#sims 2 maxis match gameplay#stilla#spc#spc: yearfourweekfour#spc: stench#spc: sty4w4#genos stench#freeflow stench
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juxtaposed
#illustration#fine art#my art#abstract#abstract art#traditional drawing#mixed media#freeflowing#sketchbook#cafe sketch
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Something. . But slowing down. . #wip #inkonpaper #freeflow #oneshot #neverstop https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch4KzjYODdm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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🥀🌹 // #freeflowing piece for this Wednesday. Open tag! • • #MBS #poem #poetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #poetrycommunity #poet #unhappy #breakingthecycle #writer #writingcommunity #writing #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writtenword #spilledink #spilledthoughts #instapoet #instapoetry https://www.instagram.com/p/CoIBE5YuggU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#freeflowing#mbs#poem#poetry#poetsofinstagram#poetsofig#poetrycommunity#poet#unhappy#breakingthecycle#writer#writingcommunity#writing#writerscommunity#writersofinstagram#writtenword#spilledink#spilledthoughts#instapoet#instapoetry
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Pain of withering
Sudden unexpected events wither you inside.
First challenge is to accept the event
Second challenge is fear of unknown
Acceptance pushes you to look for solution
Here comes the third challenge
A tiff between mind, body and soul
Rebuilding self from the broken soul
A daunting task for the wounded soul
Brain and Heart pose their challenge
This is your battle
None can take you out
Suggestions may provide relief but it is temporary
So keeping yourself exceedingly occupied
May provide distraction from the wound
But when you are alone with yourself
Suppressed inner volcano gushes outside
As deep inside the wound is still afresh
Frequent gushing of wounds continues their piercing
Solace comes from healing
Healing gives peace to mind, body and soul
Difficult to receive the healing balm
No one wants to lose the battle
No one wants to be known as failure
Option is to fight or flight
Fight requires persistent determination
Despite receiving setbacks in the process
Continuous failure tears you apart
Foremost is your mental triggers, coupled by surroundings
Abetting hurt to the already wounded soul
And you look for escape
Unable to cope with the pressure of the sores
You attempt to leave but with heavy heart & crying soul
You don’t want to be known as loser
You always want to win
Failure is killing
And circumstances wither you inside out
Seema Bhatnagar
#failure#repeatedevents#fight#flight#wound#soul#healing#suggestion#temporary#tiff#words#heartandbrain#circumstances#poetry#freeflow
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