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#mai deserves more love

arson-09 · 2 months

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Man, Rhysand was never the dreamer in that god awful series. It was always Tamlin

Tamlin is the one who has always done everything he can do to stop injustice. Protecting mortals, always accepting fae from other court in his land, trying his damnedest to find a way to break the curse instead of stealing a mortal. He has always dreamed of a safer and more just world and has always tried to make that come true. Even after loosing so much he always did whats right and true in the end.

but hes doomed by the narrative. His good deeds and genuine soul over shadowed by the biases of the narrator. Hes the age old tragedy of wanting to be the best he can and do the best he can.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #pro tamlin #sarah j maas #sjm #he’s actually such a good and interesting character but is thrown aside for a supposedly morally gray man #the fact tamlin tries to be so morally good causes more interesting scenarios #hes my babygirl #i have so many thoughts i hope this makes sense #my brain is melted from playing stardew valley #Tamlin is so tragic he deserves a happy ending #with people who care for him and who he loves #thats a major part of my fic #if i may self promote #anti rhysand #adding that tag cause some of yall dont know how to scroll

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breadinanutshell · 7 months

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Ok little rant here because I keep seeing this kind of comments pop up.

Let’s talk Halsin and polyamory.

Because apparently making ace characters allo and gay characters straight is a crime against god, but nobody seems to care when poly identities are erased. I hate starting drama but it's honestly heartbreaking seeing how many people are happy to disregard Halsin’s polyamory entirely.

Does Halsin need better writing? Yes, he’s been done dirty by a rush job and Larian leaning a bit too heavily on the horny. But I think it's very telling that what some of you consider bad writing is the fact that you can't have a monogamous relationship with him.

I see people very hung up on this line:

Like this is some proof that Halsin secretly longs for monogamy but he’s too traumatized to admit it. Which is. Very insulting. He’s traumatized. He’s poly. The two things need not be related. If the only way you can conceive Halsin being poly is out of trauma, I don’t think I need to tell you just how yikes that sounds.

I’m personally not a big fan of this line. I always found it a little fetishy, like the game is giving you the go ahead to build a harem. But I’d also like to point out that the line doesn’t preclude the possibility he doesn’t want other partners right this moment, but might in the future.

People seem to conveniently forget the other instances where Halsin states his position on polyamory.

But all of this keeps getting brushed off in favour of that one line, because for some of you it’s inconceivable that a person would be capable of romantic attraction towards multiple partners. Like love from a polyamorous person is somehow lacking, weaker, less meaningful, inferior.

And it’s not just him, I’ve seen people pull this shit with Astarion and Shadowheart too, claiming that they’re lying when they say they’re ok with Halsin joining your bed. “He’s insecure!” “She’s lonely!” “They’re scared of being abandoned!” The implication here being that polyamorous people are broken, because nobody in their right mind would be ok having multiple partners, right?

Polyamory rarely if ever gets any decent representation, but god forbid you don’t take away the only scrap we get just because it makes you uncomfy.

#bg3 #halsin #bg3 spoilers #this post may land uh badly #but the outcry for monogamy got to me #more than i expected tbh #let the big man love and be loved pls #by as many people as he wants #he deserves all the people

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ruelpsen · 4 months

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Fuck it, I'm going to go out and say it: while I often enjoy being teased on here, a fair portion of what I receive irritates me as it's misguided at best and reeks deeply of unlearned, malicious fatphobia at its worst. Yes I want to be fatter but I'm not fat. I am a 140-lbs/63.5-kg twink despite all my efforts to gain weight. I'm not stick thin, sure, but I'm sure as hell not fat either. So why are some people insistent on calling me fat/huge/big? Are actual fat people too much for you (perhaps even in spite of you being a self-professed FA)? Is your idea of fatness grounded in equating 'not even that chubby' with 'fat' while not even being attracted to people who are actually fat? Do you solely find bloated skinny guys hot while still saying you like fat people? Or are you not attracted to fat people at all and here simply to take your fatphobia out on the people closest to your image of ideal thinness, who you'd be more openly attracted to if they lost 10-20 pounds, all while still scoffing at or ignoring the fat people at the heart of these communities?

Some of y'all really need to do better. Either own up to your love of people who are actually fat (which may entail adjusting your understanding of what fatness is), clean up your nomenclature, or don't be here. Yes unlearning biases like fatphobia takes time and effort, but your choices really are more or less that simple.

#i've seen a number of posts lately from actual fat feedees/gainers discussing how even in these circles they feel marginalized #and yeah they most certainly are #i may not be in that weight cohort myself but my own experiences further go to show that it is a real and noticeable problem #to the fat people here you are not alone and i'm sorry some people still insist on being shitty like this #your body is lovely and deserving of far better attention than the dickish/creepy shit they have to give anyway #i am open to more discussion on this if people want it btw #body politics

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zoroshark · 3 days

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Its's zora may time!! I have a few old doodles from years ago I'm going to attempt to upload cause why not! I'll also be seeing if I can draw any new zora related stuff too.

First up, are doodles of Moraiya, my big ol' monster, zebra shark zora!

#my art #artists on tumblr #tloz #loz #doodles #zora oc #botw oc #totk oc #zora may #my ocs #honestly she deserves more love out of my roster of zoras #I dont draw her much but I really should #if you know where the voiceline is from in the last image know thats her voice claim >:)#zora #moraiya #loz oc #also these are old doodles with a few touch ups

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xiaoluclair · 1 year

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bro, bro do you understand, they hated each other it was always me or him, no and. they were pre pubescent and squeaking about he pushed me i pushed him back it was nothing it was just an inchident. they were like mortal enemies or some overdramatic shit cooked up under a mop of monagasque hair like bruh you were three, any puddle was proportionally the size of the pacific. now fast forward to when theyre like three and a half and it's smiles it's the best fun of my career it's i want this for another fifteen twenty years it's i know how strong he is it's touching hands and necks and arms and looks, really really soft looks (soft_wilted_cabbage.img), and it's nice (what's nice??) bc it means we know each other well (is it nice that you met so early, is it nice that your lives met the way they did again again and again, are you glad for it????) . they went from we didn't even say goodbye to we say hellow now to try and stop this middle-of-the-media-pen debrief and we couldn't stand each other to complete tunnel vision on that podium(tm) - miss ma'am did you see those fucking smiles, that grin, the pure elation, the ecstacy - and our relationship wasn't that great to laughing together and holding each other and respecting - admiring - each other to unshakeable degrees, we have a good relationship, from literal scowls to immediate smiles when asked about the other person and from never giving a single inch on track to understanding that, to loving that, to seeing it as a mirror and loving that too, and from, from grr to like, love heart love heart, likw- DO YOU UNDERSTAND—

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atsuwumus · 4 months

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sending an extra big hug to everyone on the dashie tonight <3 discourse like that tends to take a lot out of you, it leaves you with an uncomfortable and heavy feeling so pls don't forget to take care of yourself today. it's okay to be upset, angry, frustrated, disgusted. all your emotions and thoughts are valid <3

#words of comfort from the pink velvet server to me #which I resonated deeply with and wanted to share with the dash #hoping to come back tomorrow and shed some more light & happiness #but for now I'm heading to bed :((#wishing everyone a lovely lovely weekend ahead #filled with all the love restfulness and peace you deserve <333 #mai mumbles (ꐦ •᷅ࡇ•᷄)

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justxtalking · 1 year

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a small detail i can't get over with

After Killua wins against the Ortho siblings, he falls and can't stand up again because he lost a lot of blood. He's starting to lose consciousness while feeling sad and apologetic about Gon. At the same time he's accepting his destiny, the drawing gets softer and softer, as if he's really going to disappear. The large white spaces also show that not only he's alone but he's about to die.

However, on the next page, Ikalgo appears holding his hand. Killua is still drawn soft, as if he's about to disappear, but Ikalgo looks much solid. In the first panel, Killua is drawn with soft lines in contrast with his hand and Ikalgo's tentacle, which look more solid. I really like how it shows that, in this case, Ikalgo is the one who is able to stand his ground and is going to save him. He's bringing him back.

If I'm gonna be honest, Togashi draws Killua in this way more than once. Those times are when he's sad about Gon, just after Gon said or did something that makes him feel bad (I would say, that breaks his heart). The lines are extremely soft, as if he's about to disappear (or even getting further away too), and his eyes look empty.

In my interpretation, I'm adding the "as if he's about to disappear", though probably it's just to show Killua in the light while Gon is more and more in the dark. Togashi uses this technique a lot during the Chimera Ant arc!

The Gon and Killua's drawings deserve a whole different post of analysis (there's a lot to say about it), but I wanted to include them since it's something I notice Togashi does a lot and it kinda relates to the Ikalgo and Killua's scene!

By the way, these are just my thoughts, not a deep analysis. Just for fun!

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on-this-day-mcr · 1 year

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On this day, May 24

In 2022: My Chemical Romance performed their sixth show of the 2022-2023 Swarm tour in Dublin, Ireland. At this show, "Tomorrow's Money" was performed live for the first time ever, and "GNAW" was written on the drums. (🖤)

Watch the show here!

sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴍᴘsᴇʏ

#swarm era #2022 #May 24 #tour date #live debut #tomorrows money deserved more shows tbh #g(r)ay little scarf i love u so #they should have done isnt that something. for her birtday

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transingthoseformers · 6 months

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Breakdown and Bulkhead being exes and there being so many emotions about that

Especially with me remembering the semicommon hc that Breakdown used to be an autobot, which considering how he's often a stunticon and the stunticons are in rid15 gives me the crack idea of

At the beginning of the war Breakdown left the stunticons to join the autobots because of his boyfriend at the time and him disagreeing with Motormaster, leading to MM saying he won't under any circumstances take BD back if shit with Bulk and the bots goes sideways

Shit with Bulkhead and the autobots goes sideways as Breakdown grows increasingly dissatisfied with his role in the autobots, leading to him breaking up with Bulkhead and him joining the Decepticons like he was "supposed to" in the beginning of this scrap

Well. Now he's an ex-autobot in the Decepticons and again the stunticons kept to their word as he burned that bridge, leaving him a tidge of a mess.

Enter Knockout, who's looking to take on an assistant with at least SOME medical experience. Breakdown fills this requirement because i say so and because i love nurse/medic!Breakdown. Breaky says yes because fr what the pits else is he supposed to do.

After a rough adjustment period, they grow close and the more familiar power couple KOBD we recognize and love ensues

In his wiki page tfwiki suggests that in aligned Breaky used to be a scout, actually, who was real super anxious before getting a frame upgrade in order to keep up his grudge with Bulkhead and this did wonders for his mental health from what i can see. This may be another reason why Breaky seeked Knockout out

THERE WE GO, TFP BREAKDOWN: AN EX-STUNTICON, EX-AUTOBOT, UNEXPECTED MEDIC, CURRENTLY KNOCKOUT'S PARTNER IN CRIME AND MOTHERFUCKER WITH A HAMMER

#maccadam #transformers #a bullshitted up mix of canon_ fanon_ and situations where you remember it's a continuity family rather than a single continuity #Breakdown deserves more love. ik he already gets a lot but like. more please.#breakbulk #kobd #tfp breakdown #tfp bulkhead #tfp knockout #knockout was glad to oversee his fiancé's gender affirming surgery (/hj) go well #unusual metaphors for dysphoria GO #how funny would it be if they actually do have the equivalent of courting rings but they keep them safe in their quarters #i saw the idea of courting rings being made out of a literal piece of their partner's plating and the symbolism is insaneeee #i love the idea of Cybertronian courting gifts and rituals that get practiced in a variety of ways or even not at all #some of this may be nonsense

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wyvernquill · 3 months

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One more snippet of the Dreamling Anastasia AU

...in which we witness Hob and Murphy's very first conversation (spoiler: it doesn't go well). Please enjoy!

Link to the Masterpost!

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

---

For a moment, the scene unfolding before Hob makes him think he’s stepped into a fairytale - or perhaps a sweet and strange dream, haunting you ever so gently even after waking.

Once upon a time, thinks Hob, there was a Dream King draped in a cloak of midnight, and he held court over the ravens in a silver-winter forest under heavy, snow-laden boughs…

But then he blinks, and the silly, fanciful vision fades. The cloak is but a dark coat three sizes too large and marked by at least ten years’ worth of dirt and wear, the forest only a small and pitiful park fenced in by roads, and the snow a dirty grey, barely more than half-melted sludge where countless feet have trodden it down.

And the Dream King is only some beggar called Murphy, of course, uncanny resemblance be damned.

But there are ravens. Birds of all kinds, really, the sounds of their wings and their various songs nearly managing to drown out the noise of the city around them. Yet Hob is a practical man, and knows that they gather around their ‘king’ only because they’re clever little buggers waiting to be fed, and not thanks to any strange magics.

(Magic died when humanity rose up and brought the Endless low; and what little survived has fled, concealed itself, and would know better than to enchant a hundred or so birds in broad-if-cloud-dimmed daylight.

Magic died with Dream of the Endless, and all that is left are shadows and cheap facsimiles.

Magic died, and nothing will bring it back.)

And yet… there’s potential there, Hob thinks, as he watches Murphy draw his giant coat more tightly around himself, shivering but still holding his head high and proud, surveying the assorted fowl around him as if they were his subjects. There’s a sharp, delicate arrogance in his bearing that will serve their deception well.

And. Christ alive. He does look like him, doesn’t he. Like the Sandman himself, made flesh and bone and sweat and dirt. Made human. If Hob didn’t know, with absolute certainty… he could swear...

Ridiculous thought. Dream of the Endless would never sink so low as to get himself thrown out of a pub swearing and spitting, human or not.

Murphy’s eyes suddenly snap up, and Hob flinches instinctively, contemplates ducking behind the next tree or the column advertising the latest local plays - but the man’s gaze passes over him carelessly, long neck craning out from the ratty scarf wound around his throat as he scans the sky.

It’s the raven. The large, coal-feathered beast Murphy had with him at the pub, with the clever glint in its eye - and in its claws, it holds a whole loaf of bread, clearly pilfered from some bakery or street stall.

The raven drops the bread into Murphy’s lap, and then lands on his shoulder, cawing and nudging its beak against a sharp cheekbone in a strange avian gesture of affection.

Murphy rasps some sort of acknowledgement in his dark, hoarse voice that Hob is too far away to parse, stroking a finger along the bird’s side, before turning his attention to the bread.

His spindly, dirty fingers tear into it with the hungry desperation of a man who remembers with precise clarity when his last meal was, and also that it’s been far too long since then, and Hob’s stomach gives a sympathetic pang. He’s been there. Not so much recently - but he knows the slow gnaw of starvation, and will never forget it.

(He hasn’t gone hungry since meeting Gilbert, who’d rather skip on his own technically unnecessary meals if it meant his young human companion could eat his fill. Sometimes, Gil even hands Hob fruits he’s seemingly conjured up out of thin air, which are never as filling as the real thing, but taste heavenly enough to stave off hunger for a few more hours at least.

There must be some dream-magic there, something to do with Gil being, in all technicality, a meadow - but Hob doesn’t think about it too much. It’s sweet, the actions of a friend who truly cares, and that’s enough for him.)

Murphy raises the first morsel of bread up to his mouth…

…and feeds it to the raven.

Hob blinks.

Watches, as the man takes his own bite, chewing ravenously, and then tears another bit off the loaf, throwing it to the ground, birds immediately flocking around it, picking for their share.

The process repeats. Murphy goes through the entire loaf that way. One bite for the raven who stole the bread, one bite for Murphy himself, and one for the flocks of birds around him. Halfway through, the raven refuses its bites, presumably full, and from then on it’s one bite for Murphy, two for the birds. It’s already not the largest loaf, and a third of it is hardly enough to sate a grown man’s hunger - strangely selfless, this Murphy character. No wonder he’s thin as a rake.

(Then again, Hob supposes there’s strategy in it, teaching the birds that they’ll be well-rewarded for any bounty they bring him.

Altruism, or shrewdness? Hob wonders.)

Soon, there’s nothing left of the bread. Murphy still looks hungry, but it’s an exhausted, resigned hunger that’s there to stay. Hob doubts the man can remember a time he wasn’t hungry. This city is not kind to the starving, to the poor - Murphy might get a place in a workhouse, if he tried, but Hob doubts that quiet pride still shining through the veil of hunger would let him. And besides, they’re dying institutions, these days, workhouses - the modern world is turning up their noses at anything that might help the destitute, even as it churns out more and more of them. It’s a dark and miserable time they’re living in, and none of the glamorous parties the rich so love to throw these days will convince Hob otherwise.

But, well. If their scheme goes off without a hitch, then at the very least the new ‘Dream of the Endless’ will never go hungry again. Hob’s doing a public service here, if you look at it from the right angle - though he’ll be the first to admit that his main motivation is anything but selfless. Immortality is too rich a prize to pretend he doesn’t want it with every fibre of his being.

And he’ll not get it standing idly by and watching, that’s for sure.

Hob straightens his coat lapels, takes off his hat to comb his fingers through his overlong hair, places it back at a jaunty angle - and walks over to finally officially make this Murphy character’s acquaintance.

“Afternoon,” Hob says, still a few steps away, smile widening into a grin when Murphy’s gaze immediately fixes itself onto him, cold and filled with the sharp suspicion of a man most people go out of their way to ignore, and who does not trust direct address.

(The eyes give him away. Dream of the Endless had eyes like midnight stars, the depths of space and the glitter of distant galaxies eternally reflected in them. Strange eyes, inhuman eyes, endless eyes.

Murphy’s eyes are a pale, washed-out blue-grey, slightly sunken in their sockets, and perfectly ordinary.

No matter - they will already have to sell some cock-and-bull story about Dream having been forced into human form, the eyes will be the least of it.)

“What do you want?” Murphy growls, and that is perfect. The voice. Easily his best asset, besides the overall look. It’s right, scratchy and roughened by disuse, but just as deep and sonorous as Dream of the Endless's was. The harsh tone and tendency to curse like a sailor Hob witnessed at the inn will need to go, to be sure, this man speaks too much like a London gutter rat and not enough like the Lord of Stories - but, well, nothing a few lessons can't fix. Nobody else ever got the voice even remotely right, and this’ll already give them a lot more to work with.

“A moment of your time, m’lord. Nothing more.” Hob affects a cheeky bow, and does not waver under the cold disdain he receives in return. Mr. Murphy’s not a fan of teasing and gentle mockery, evidently - unfortunately, that is about 50% of Hob’s personality. They’ll get on just splendidly, won’t they. “Hob, at your service. Are you aware your lady sister is looking for you?”

A quick blink, even as Murphy’s entire scrawny body and haggard face goes very, very still.

“...I do not have a sister.” He says, only the slightest edge of uncertainty and confusion wavering in his voice. And then, “piss off, Robert Gadling” he adds, uncouth and vulgar, a scowl scrunching up his face. Oh, they’ll need to train that out of him, most certainly.

(Hob has not introduced himself as Robert, and certainly not as Gadling. That Murphy has named him thus nonetheless goes over both their heads.)

“No?” Hob smiles. “You’re not Dream of the Endless, then?”

Another blink - and then Murphy laughs, a horrible dissonant sound that seems like it ought to hurt his throat, the raven on his shoulder letting out a single caw alongside him.

“Are you drunk?” He snorts. “Dream of the Endless is dead. Every child knows it.”

“Every child believes it to be so. There’s a distinction.” Hob tries to take a step closer, but the sea of birds at their feet steadfastly refuses to part for him, so he thinks better of it. “You look exactly like him, you know. You might well be.”

“And you would know that, would you?” Murphy raises an arch eyebrow. “I think I’d remember having once been the personification of dreams.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Memory can be a funny thing.” Hob shoots back. “We don’t remember being born, do we? And some lose track of even more than that. How’s your recollection of your childhood, hm?”

Ah. Jackpot. The moment he speaks of remembering and childhoods, Murphy looks away, uncomfortable. Hit a sore spot there, has he? Memory issues. How interesting. How perfectly convenient.

“...you’ve had your fun now,” Murphy rasps, shifting uneasily, no longer so willing to defiantly meet Hob’s eyes. “I want no part in whatever game you’re intending to play with the London Poor, Gadling. Fuck off, before I make you.”

“Now, now, I really do think we’re on to something, here.” Giving up, Hob knows, is for fools who don’t really want to become immortal. “I’m quite certain-”

“Fuck. Off.” Murphy repeats, and turns his pale, unfortunately-human eyes on Hob again.

So do nearly a hundred birds, feathers ruffling and beaks clacking. The raven on Murphy’s shoulder caws, low and threatening.

Hob swallows, and takes stock of his options. Wonders if tactical retreats might not be just the thing for intelligent men who don’t want to die by bird before ever getting to take their stab at immortality.

“I’m only saying-” Hob tries instead, because he’s a reckless idiot.

Murphy’s eyes narrow, and he spits out a throaty sound like a command, the flock of birds rising as one, led by his personal raven jumping into flight with a sharp battle cry.

Shit.

Gilbert glances up when Hob returns covered in feathers and bird droppings, skin smarting where sharp beaks have pecked at him until he fled.

“I take it young Mr. Murphy was not particularly amenable to your proposal…?” He asks, delicately, lip twitching around a politely-repressed smile.

“Can’t say he was.” Hob shrugs easily, only wincing slightly at the way the movement pulls on his skin. “But I think I can convince him, Gil. Given enough time.”

“If you say so, young friend.” Gil, for his part, does not look particularly convinced either. He rarely is, when Hob first pitches his ideas, but he always comes around.

And so will Murphy.

Hob knows it’s only a matter of time… and, perhaps, some clever bribery.

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #i had this already written so i figured i would just throw it out too #there's one more bit i've got parts of written but i can't make promises #we will see how it goes!#murphy has trained all his birds to steal and shares generously with them #honestly he may be a better boss to these birds than he was for the dreaming...#matthew in particular does deserve bread though. as a treat.#hope you enjoyed their meet-ugly!#(though honestly murphy is quite right not to trust hob)#(a scoundrel like that will just make you fall in love with him and then break your heart)#(but at least he'll help you reconnect with your identity and family so that's nice I guess)

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