#this is about my father btw

[in-the-sweet-november-rain]

why is it that every time that i try to have a civil conversation w him we always end up fighting like its 2021 all over again??

#this is about my father btw #vicki's shit #like i lived with him for a whole year and a half #like just us two #and whenever we end up being in the house together alone #we just starting fighting like its 2021 all over again #and i HATED that year #worst year of my life #0 contact w friends except my neighbors #my dad has (undiagnosed) depression so there would be days on end where i wouldn't eat except for school food #half the time i thought he was dead-he was asleep but due to a breathing condition he has it seemed like he was dead #anyways thats enought dumping for now

[sosaysdean]

idk I feel like if you were in jail for seven years for ARMED ROBBERY and I call u a criminal u can’t be mad at me

#this is about my father btw

[bivampir]

the sexiest thing a man can do is collapse on the floor coughing blood

#this is about father paul midnight mass btw #midnight mass #idk who else did this actually. whatever #my posting #by popular demand: #iwtv #interview with the vampire #easy ass website #failpost

[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.

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #emicha writes #idk how this turned out this long #I just put my daddy issues to work #I'm thinking about writing more casual one shot length pieces like this more often though #btw anyone else who only got real gold jewellery as a child? #having a grandma who told them fake jewellery isn't good for your skin? #and now that you're an adult you're left with a certain standard for jewellery but no money to actually pay for it? #because that's really funny ha! #I'll sleep better knowing the ancunin brood will just steal their jewellery even when they're not destitute

[inkskinned]

oh, i love the way relationships develop their own personal language of love. when all that joy shows the way they love you. i love when it is a little icon to who they are, to how you get along with them.

my sister takes a picture of a dead bug and sends it to me - this is you. my friend asks me how the move is going; she put a reminder in her phone to check up on me. i put a piece of ice down my friend's back, he returns the favor by holding my phone over my head and making me jump to catch it. jason and i scream-sing green day while going all of 15 miles an hour down country roads. molly is who i go to for a quiet night in with 5 dollar wine.

i go out for dinner with them and have to step outside to take a phone call; when i come back they've ordered my favorite appetizer without needing to be asked. andrew and i have a long-standing tradition of him picking me up to spike me directly into the first soft-looking surface around. i don't even need to speak to my best friend - she and i will just look at each other and have an entire conversation. burst out laughing at 3 PM, high and cackling like we're evil witches. i just moved by myself into a new city - my brother keeps introducing me to his friends that now live close to me. he always says - oh yeah, this is sibling and then pretends to ignore me. for days now, my family has been in and out of my apartment, just tinkering with things; making sure i am settling in nicely.

i usually have watermelon instead of cake for my birthday; kim forces a full yankee candle into the rind so i can have something to blow out and wish on. for 20 minutes on a saturday, all us grown adults crawl into one bed to have a cuddle puddle like we're in high school again. every 20 seconds someone starts giggling, and then we're laughing again. nick calls me from california; we both groan about the price of tickets, agonizing. miranda and i meet up in the city for the first time in years - without discussing it beforehand, the minute we lay eyes on each other, we both strike gruesome little gremlin poses instead of waving. dean always goes for the hug. joe always does a single firm handshake. sometimes i think about my friends and get so happy i just start crying.

oh, how wonderful to live in a world where affection is biologically ingrained in us. how wonderful that affection helps us build our single greatest strength - community. how wonderful that affection is our body's way of saying - thing is good, let's keep. how wonderful, this language, this skein we weave! to show the other person - i might not always say it. but i love that you live in me.

#btw the ''this is sibling'' is legitimately what he says #which is actually very sweet of him bc it's gender affirming #he does not use my name #my family addresses each other as ''sibling'' ''mother'' ''father'' and it is actually kind of cute #in a serial killer way. #idk just very in love with the languages ppl develop which aren't usual #like im a poet #i might write a poem about you #but there's something special about like ''this is my person to be spiked into the ground by'' #you know? #btw i live in boston now #please hit me up i want more friends

[roseworth]

i love this one. btw. if you even care.

#no coherent thoughts just hhghhghjhfgmhghgh........ #btw i didnt realize it but its been nearly EXACTLY 2 years since i first read utrh #bc i first watched the movie ~late august 2021 then read the book a few days later #and now i read it again <3 so i guess we can all start getting ready for my next reread in august 2025 #anyways it hits even better now that i have a Nuanced Interpretation of the characters :) #during 'the son has not surpassed the father' scene i had to put the book down bc i got hit so hard with the urge to start ripping pages ou #so insane about this book it turns me into a rabid animal #jason todd #dc

[soup-of-the-daisies]

time travelling harry being slightly fond of orion black because he looks and sounds so much like sirius, but soon realising he’s actually unbearingly and unbelievably fond of orion himself… orion being baffled, suspicious and quite flattered that someone likes him for him, not just for his last name or status as heir, and promptly deciding he’d die for harry… tom seething with jealousy watching them hang out and being generally attached the hip, knowing he can’t kill orion because 1) harry would NEVER forgive him or talk to him again, and 2) it’d be a shame to alienate the ancient and most noble house of black by getting rid of their heir

#tom having to share harry’s attention but being VERY reluctant and grumpy about it my beloved #harry getting his own ride-or-die bff from the black family just like his father my beloved #sirius’ gremlin-ness coming from his father my beloved #tom riddle #harry potter #orion black #tomarry #the ancient and most noble house of black #alphard fits in this too btw #neither alphard nor orion have a canon personality you can go everywhere

[dootznbootz]

One thing I find funny/interesting is that Odysseus constantly refers to himself as "Telemachus' loving father" (or at least some variant of that depending on the translation) during the Iliad, which is something only he is shown to do compared to his fellow Achaeans. (Maybe the others would have done this themselves but since most of the other kings/commanders either didn't have kids yet or they had more than one child so they just didn't want to show favoritism, as Odysseus only has one.)

I think we all can agree that it's just him being his weird self and loving his baby boy so much. He doesn't even know if he made it past infancy but he knows he's proud of Telemachus and that he loves him.

In the ODYSSEY, however, he never refers to himself as that. It's always "Son of Laertes". I don't think he stops because he's "not proud of his son anymore." I think it's because he's no longer among friends/fellow kings. He's now dealing with monsters and immortals.

I love this quirk he has as it's so endearing but I'm also SO thankful that he didn't tell Polyphemus about Telemachus. I know it probably doesn't mean much as he still is saying who he is but in a way he's protecting his son from possible enemies.

I guess it means Odysseus doesn't mind if Laertes has to deal with a cyclops but whatever

#idk this has been something eating at my brain for a while ever since I've seen people talking about it #as he doesn't call himself that in the Odyssey at all if I remember correctly #btw that last bit is a joke I know Odysseus does love his father. I just found it funny. #the odyssey #odyssey #odysseus #telemachus #the iliad #iliad #tagamemnon #mythology #greek mythology #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus

[fellhellion]

i’ve been thinking thoughts and feeling feelings for a month straight help

#miguel o'hara #atsv #IS THIS ANYTHING I yell into the void #this isn’t a Miguel is an abuser post btw it’s more. as someone who suffered a household filled with domestic abuse #he fails Miles so ACUTELY beyond anything else as a man with this experience who lays his hands on a kid in anger #also yeah YEAH I’m gnashing my teeth at Miguel protecting Gwen from her father but then intimidating her when he’s lost his gourd #MIGUEL MIGUELLLLL GET IT TOGETHER MAN YOU KNOW THIS SHIT SO INTIMATELY CMON #seriously if someone had said George O’Hara during the Miles fight he would’ve had a stroke and keeled over dead #tunes talks spiderverse #tunes talks 2099 #shaking like a wet dog can someone else be insane about miguel w me CAN SOMEONE ELSE BE INSANE ABOUT HIM W ME #long post #migedits

[opera-ghost]

#i’m like. mad at how well this fits #when i saw it i knew what i had to do #also awaiting yet another discussion in the tags about far-reaching vs fathering gaze #listen. i am slowly being converted to team fathering gaze but i am not happy about it #phantom of the opera #poto shitpost #poto #this is hugh panaro btw (i think) #//​editing tags to add that this is actually jonathan roxmouth sorry everyone please revoke my phantom fan card

[shibesky]

she loves cool pictures of dragons and magician

#she knows all strats #i know nothing about yugioh #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton #spamton G spamton #susie deltarune #deltarune susie #hes her dad btw or liek father figure esque #interpret this as a ship and i will feel it in my bones; hone in on your location and fucking eat your eusophagus and so forth

[medicalunprofessional]

juggalo nemesis (…evil augustus) and horror punk butcher. Very important i think

#nightmaretheater #psychonauts #evil augustus #the butcher psychonauts #you guys dont talk about them enough so im claiming them and playing with them like touys #I dont even care maintag this.Spread my message #Your evil father can have sooo much fun #This makes me so happy i like imagining nemesis havign so much fun #I think nemesis helped butcher with the stitching and spiking snd stuff :) #(butcher has big hands and claws… and doesnt really do thst stuff) #Look at them having so much fun #Thank you….I am going to think about this for awhile #I will never not call him nemesis btw #THANK YOU MY BESTIE FRIEND KRIS FOR GUIDING ME.. zEOULDNT HAVE MADE IT WITHOUT U

[kuzunoha-xiv]

much to think about........

#while looking through old fandom posts i saw people joke that smokey looks like their lovechild and i cant unsee it now #i think they would be absent fathers but in the ''being around my kid would put them in danger because of who i am'' kind of way #and when you consider smokey ended up at the iacon hall of records...far away from the real danger... #like i Know in canon they didnt know him when he showed up on earth but. imagine. #if i knew how to write i'd write a fic about this lol #optiratch #smokescreen #transformers #samael.txt #shitpost #<- kinda #''sam are you implying you found out about Those TF fics'' yep! #i did not expect TF of all things to have so many of them. not judging btw i was just surprised

[blueskittlesart]

i am not autistic but i do believe in their beliefs

#^ guy who has a raadsr score of 16 but thought eye contact was a myth well into high school #something they dont tell you about autism is that if you happen to be raised by and around mostly autistic people #some wires will get crossed regardless of what is actually going on in your brain. #my family and friends r like 90% autistic people there was no getting away clean. i was raised thinking this was just how everyone is #like yeah your family dinner conversations dont consist of 4 people infodumping about completely seperate topics at each other for an hour? #this isnt me being in denial btw i know for certain i am not autistic. i just think its funny that i have like. secondhand autism #and also because i am not beating the autism allegations in the comments of that last post. its not me guys its my father i swear #he did this to me #personal

[scoliosisgoblin]

more doodles

#Peter wasn't weird about it ofc. he was just excited to be a father :) #btw Jay's and Peter's heights are very inconsistent whenever I drawn them so oops #ran out of ideas for what else to draw so I just... added pictures idk 🧍‍♂️ #yeah these are just for funsies #my art #Jay #transmasc #void #Peter Dunbar #Jacob Skelton #peter yb #yb game #your boyfriend game #your boyfriend peter #your boyfriend fanart #doodles

[inkskinned]

this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.

it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?

it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.

as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.

on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.

and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.

and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.

as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.

#spilled ink #writeblr #:) lol . anybody notice how i write about dads in second person exclusively #me: haha silly cartoon #also me: ): this child is not getting what they need #also btw this is about a father but it might apply to any parent or caregiver #there's a really weird space of like #''this person was technically around me but either ignored me or was actively harmful to me'' #and like u learn this very strange ritual of like... this person is my parent/caregiver on a technicality #that you almost spend all ur time with them like... tiptoeing and acting as THEIR parent so u don't upset them. #like you're 17 and ur mom is suddenly hit by a wave of wanting to talk to you so she's like :) lets make breakfast together :) and ur like #uhhhhhh okay?? bc you feel like this is absolutely going to go wrong and is why u usually make breakfast alone #and she starts being like: THIS is called a TEASPOON ... & u know all this stuff but you also know to just be very quiet #bc if you say like ''mom ive been making this breakfast every day since i was 13'' she would FREAK OUT and be like #DONT ACT LIKE I NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR YOU DONT ACT LIKE I DONT CARE ABOUT YOU. FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL . #so u have to smile like ur a preschool teacher and be like. OH COOL! i didn't know A CUP existed! tell me MORE! :)