Hey Op What The Fuck? - Tumblr Posts
Weird dream
Maybe ill use artfight to practice animation... to honour Jack Black.
i have a lot of thoughts about “first flower of my house” but perhaps the one that makes me want to chew glass the most is the fact that she called gideon a flower on a planet of dead things. we trod you underfoot. you refuse to die. first flower because you are the first thing to truly live on a dying house, where everyone else is either dead or on their way out. you are young and vital and alive.
so. mercymorn's eyes are described as sort of a mainly red hazel colour. y'all ever wonder if cristabel's eyes were red post-res bc she shot herself in the head and john couldn't remember the actual colour after that?
After every interaction between Jean and Rhemann the only thing I could imagine was Rhemann pouring himself a drink and calling up Wymack like how tf do you deal with an entire team of this
- Nikita Gill
(insp.)
thinking about the ending of dragon age 2 as a mage hawke who sided with the mages at the end of the fifth blight, the warden defeats the archdemon and saves ferelden. they are paraded through denerim to the sounds of cheering crowds. if they don't survive, their memory lives on in a tale of great heroism and sacrifice for years to come. the inquisitor celebrates at skyhold with the rest of their companions after they beat corypheus, the threat finally ended, the inquisition a success.
but not hawke. you can fight with everything you have to support the mages, but there is no grand fanfare when it is over. the villain succumbs to corruption and dies unceremoniously - you don’t even get the satisfaction of striking the killing blow. you can’t get a round at the hanged man to celebrate. it’s time to go. you and your friends can never sit around your table at the hanged man again. you can’t be seen here when the templars come to clean up the mess. nothing will be the same. you have given seven years of your life trying to hold kirkwall together, accepted your accolades and played the part of champion, and you watch it fall apart anyway. and how much of that is your fault? this city has been stained in your blood since before you could remember, since before the blood was your own.
you lost your sister when you lost your first home. even so, you tried to live by the advice you gave fenris - when you stop running, you build a life. the estate that you clawed your family back into stands looming and empty. it is the last place you saw your mother alive, and you still can't bear to touch her things, and you will never even see her room again. bodahn and sandal are making preparations to leave for orlais, orana will find other work with the skills she's learned, and the house will remain, a hollow testament to your family's legacy. gamlen will hear only the stories. your brother fought by your side when it mattered, despite everything. even so, he will stay behind, and you might never see him again.
no, there is no time for a celebration. instead you get a cautious acknowledgement from the templars, a tense goodbye, and then you can never go home again. for the second time. you thought you could build a life, and you tried. you held on as long as you could, you made friends, you fell in love, you clung to the last vestiges of your family, but most of them will be forced to leave your side anyway. you won, but even that wasn't enough.
thinking about Wade and Logan physically shielding their partner from danger in a dire situation, caging you in between their bodies and muffling the cries and sobs that rip from your throat and leave your esophagus raw and bloody as you’re forced to witness your beloved men be ripped apart, shredded by bullets or explosions or forces incomprehensible to the human mind. it’s not that you haven’t seen the aftermath before, but this is different. so intimately close to the danger, the heart of the threat, the hearts of your partners throbbing and palpitating between your ears as their bodies act as a shelter, this time in the most physical sense possible. your face is being pelted with bits of blood, flesh, bone, gristle, trembling with visceral horror as you bear witness to the gruesome, though temporary, undoing of their physicality. all for your sake.
This... was an adventure. Even if you usually don’t stop to read long posts, go back and read this one. It’s delightful.
Writing period dramas in the discord, lads
"how to tell if you have a crush"
"what do crushes feel like"
"how to tell if you like someone"
"am i in love"
"do i want to date them"
"do i have a crush"
"am i gay" quiz results: "you're pan! you're attracted to personality rather than body! you feel the same about every gender!"
"is this arousal"
"how to tell if you're aroused"
"am i horny"
"how to tell if you're attracted to someone"
"what does sexual attraction feel like"
"how to tell if someone is attracted to you"
"how to tell if you feel romantic feelings"
"how to tell if you feel sexual feelings"
"do i feel romantic feelings"
"do i feel sexual feelings"
....."define asexual"
....."define aromantic"