shenanigans-and-imagines

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

when I see something dated 2019 I think “oh that’s not too long ago” and then I remember that 2019 was not only five years ago but those five years have somehow contained several lifetimes

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evelyn Demirci (Ace!Tav) Character Bio

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Basics

Nickname/Aliases: Evie, Tavern Mouse, Tav

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Age: 26

Race/Subrace: Human (Gur)

Class/Subclass: Bard/College of Lore

Alignment: Neutral Good

STR: 10 DEX: 15 CON: 12 INT: 8 WIS: 13 CHA: 17

Appearance

Skin Tone: Dark Olive

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Black

Hairstyle: Long and braided

Build: A bit slim, acrobatic and flexible

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: When not in her performance dress, typically she wears some nondescript adventurer garb meant for comfort over style; something that will make it easy for her the blend into a crowd

Weapon(s): Rapier, dagger

Instrument(s): Violin, Lute, Lyre

Personality

General Personality Traits: Personable, Empathetic, Withdrawn

Ideals: People. She is committed to the people she cares about, not to ideals.

Bonds: She is just trying to end the day with a full stomach and a roof over her head, even if it will only last that one night. Anything more permanent feels out of reach.

Flaws: Doesn’t share much about herself, including any negative or uncertain emotions she may be feeling in the moment. It’s easy for her to get lost in relationships.

Secrets: Her sexuality

Regrets: Not pressing her father more about their tribe. Maybe then she would have been able to find them.

Relationships

Best Friend(s): Gale, Karlach, Wyll

Family: Emelie Demirci (mother/deceased), Ryland Demirci (father/unknown)

Lovers: Astarion

Sexuality: Asexual

Backstory

Evie didn’t get the start most would consider ideal.

Her parents were part of a tribe of Gur traveling across Faerun, slaying monsters and earning money where they could, even if certain townships looked down on them. Unfortunately, her father, Ryland had a habit of living up to the stereotypes. If people were going to see them as cut throats and thieves, might as well be a good one. Evie never got the full story, but eventually he crossed the line and was forced to leave the caravan. Her mother soon followed, loving him too much to leave him.

So, Evie was born in the back room of a tavern as it was the only place her father could find that wasn’t a tent in the middle of the woods. It didn’t do her mother much good either way as she died not long after.

Ryland did what he could, at least at the start. Evie would later reflect with vague memories of an Inn, the smell of rosemary and her father tucking her into a straw bed. Those memories wouldn’t last, however, as they were over taken by a blur of different ceilings, tent canvas, the night sky, hard dirt and stone cobbles.

He taught her how to pick pockets and use those big blue eyes of hers to gain sympathy of the local tavern keeper for an extension on their bill. Sometimes he’d leave for days at a time, swearing he’d be back sooner than he ever was. They wouldn’t kick a little girl out on the streets now would they? He just needed to earn some extra coin.

It wasn’t usual for Evie to be put to work then, cleaning and sweeping, a little mouse scurrying here and there searching for crumbs and trying not to get stepped on. Eventually the little tavern mouse was being called Tav rather than her given name; a name she could hardly argue against, especially once her father left one final time, never to return. She was eight years old.

It was long after she was told to find a new place to stay. Her father was behind on payments and the owner didn’t want a Gur pick pocket hanging around his customers. That first night, alone on the street, was just about the worst of her entire life. For some time after those streets would be her home as she did what she could to eat and find a safe place to sleep, day after day as she searched for even a roof to have over her head.

Some merchants and tavern maids took pity on her, letting her stay for a time and earn her keep, but something would inevitably go missing and the finger would be pointed at her. It wouldn’t matter if they found nothing in her pack or in her bed roll or if the item was found a day later, she would be out on the street all over again.

This continued for years until she was about twelve years old working at an inn where a company of bards and actors came to perform. The leader, a tiefling named Lyric, was an extremely talent musician and Evie found herself absolutely entranced. The owner of this particular inn wasn’t especially kind and she knew she’d be accused of something sooner rather than later and so that night she snuck into the players caravan to left.

She was discovered the next morning, but rather than leave her in the middle of nowhere, Lyric took pity on her. So long as she earned her keep and didn’t slow down the caravan, he didn’t see the issue.

He taught her how to play once he discovered she had a talent for music, gifting her a violin. He wasn’t an warm man, but neither was he cruel. He was simply her mentor and just about the only stable force in her life. But like so many things, that would not last either.

When Evie was about seventeen, Lyric and a few other of the players were caught attempting to steal from a rather rich lord in town. He hasn’t told the others of this plan. The only reason Evie and the rest were able to escape was because another one of the group saw the arrest and warned the others to scatter. Evie was left again without a home or even acquaintances to rely on. All she had was a pack with five days worth of rations and a violin. But she would be alright, she’d been alone before. At least now she could make her own way.

Even so, every town she passed through, each new face she met, she found herself looking for something she couldn’t name. The bonds she made always felt temporary, slipping through her fingers the harder she held on. Still, she had to try.

Nothing in her history, however, could prepare her for an illithid ship and the group of weirdos she’s find herself apart of. There are worse ways to get to know people, although she’s having trouble thinking of what.

#shameless self promotion

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

More fat characters who are complex heroes, serious love interests, funny without mentioning their weight, brooding anti-heroes, compelling antagonists, random bystanders without comments toward their looks

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I brought this unused Loki concept to life!!

I’d been eyeing this stunning design by @aleksibriclot for years, and a little while ago (after two years of working on it) I finally finished it! It has all the dark norse fantasy vibes that I wanted Ragnarok to be, and I figured hey, I can make it myself!

I had to up a lot of my leatherworking skills for this one, and I dove into a lot of new skills as well to try to make all the pieces a cohesive whole. It uses lambskin leather, suede cowhide, and veg tan, as well as an entire sheepskin for the cape!

This whole costume has truly been a labour of Loki love and I’m so glad I was able to share all the madness (process) and the finished look!

wip tag | more of this costume

#video #holy shit

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

ok NOW we can all freak out marvel vfx workers voted to unionize thank god

article here

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evelyn Demirci (Ace!Tav) Character Bio

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Basics

Nickname/Aliases: Evie, Tavern Mouse, Tav

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Age: 26

Race/Subrace: Human (Gur)

Class/Subclass: Bard/College of Lore

Alignment: Neutral Good

STR: 10 DEX: 15 CON: 12 INT: 8 WIS: 13 CHA: 17

Appearance

Skin Tone: Dark Olive

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Black

Hairstyle: Long and braided

Build: A bit slim, acrobatic and flexible

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: When not in her performance dress, typically she wears some nondescript adventurer garb meant for comfort over style; something that will make it easy for her the blend into a crowd

Weapon(s): Rapier, dagger

Instrument(s): Violin, Lute, Lyre

Personality

General Personality Traits: Personable, Empathetic, Withdrawn

Ideals: People. She is committed to the people she cares about, not to ideals.

Bonds: She is just trying to end the day with a full stomach and a roof over her head, even if it will only last that one night. Anything more permanent feels out of reach.

Flaws: Doesn’t share much about herself, including any negative or uncertain emotions she may be feeling in the moment. It’s easy for her to get lost in relationships.

Secrets: Her sexuality

Regrets: Not pressing her father more about their tribe. Maybe then she would have been able to find them.

Relationships

Best Friend(s): Gale, Karlach, Wyll

Family: Emelie Demirci (mother/deceased), Ryland Demirci (father/unknown)

Lovers: Astarion

Sexuality: Asexual

Backstory

Evie didn’t get the start most would consider ideal.

Her parents were part of a tribe of Gur traveling across Faerun, slaying monsters and earning money where they could, even if certain townships looked down on them. Unfortunately, her father, Ryland had a habit of living up to the stereotypes. If people were going to see them as cut throats and thieves, might as well be a good one. Evie never got the full story, but eventually he crossed the line and was forced to leave the caravan. Her mother soon followed, loving him too much to leave him.

So, Evie was born in the back room of a tavern as it was the only place her father could find that wasn’t a tent in the middle of the woods. It didn’t do her mother much good either way as she died not long after.

Ryland did what he could, at least at the start. Evie would later reflect with vague memories of an Inn, the smell of rosemary and her father tucking her into a straw bed. Those memories wouldn’t last, however, as they were over taken by a blur of different ceilings, tent canvas, the night sky, hard dirt and stone cobbles.

He taught her how to pick pockets and use those big blue eyes of hers to gain sympathy of the local tavern keeper for an extension on their bill. Sometimes he’d leave for days at a time, swearing he’d be back sooner than he ever was. They wouldn’t kick a little girl out on the streets now would they? He just needed to earn some extra coin.

It wasn’t usual for Evie to be put to work then, cleaning and sweeping, a little mouse scurrying here and there searching for crumbs and trying not to get stepped on. Eventually the little tavern mouse was being called Tav rather than her given name; a name she could hardly argue against, especially once her father left one final time, never to return. She was eight years old.

It was long after she was told to find a new place to stay. Her father was behind on payments and the owner didn’t want a Gur pick pocket hanging around his customers. That first night, alone on the street, was just about the worst of her entire life. For some time after those streets would be her home as she did what she could to eat and find a safe place to sleep, day after day as she searched for even a roof to have over her head.

Some merchants and tavern maids took pity on her, letting her stay for a time and earn her keep, but something would inevitably go missing and the finger would be pointed at her. It wouldn’t matter if they found nothing in her pack or in her bed roll or if the item was found a day later, she would be out on the street all over again.

This continued for years until she was about twelve years old working at an inn where a company of bards and actors came to perform. The leader, a tiefling named Lyric, was an extremely talent musician and Evie found herself absolutely entranced. The owner of this particular inn wasn’t especially kind and she knew she’d be accused of something sooner rather than later and so that night she snuck into the players caravan to left.

She was discovered the next morning, but rather than leave her in the middle of nowhere, Lyric took pity on her. So long as she earned her keep and didn’t slow down the caravan, he didn’t see the issue.

He taught her how to play once he discovered she had a talent for music, gifting her a violin. He wasn’t an warm man, but neither was he cruel. He was simply her mentor and just about the only stable force in her life. But like so many things, that would not last either.

When Evie was about seventeen, Lyric and a few other of the players were caught attempting to steal from a rather rich lord in town. He hasn’t told the others of this plan. The only reason Evie and the rest were able to escape was because another one of the group saw the arrest and warned the others to scatter. Evie was left again without a home or even acquaintances to rely on. All she had was a pack with five days worth of rations and a violin. But she would be alright, she’d been alone before. At least now she could make her own way.

Even so, every town she passed through, each new face she met, she found herself looking for something she couldn’t name. The bonds she made always felt temporary, slipping through her fingers the harder she held on. Still, she had to try.

Nothing in her history, however, could prepare her for an illithid ship and the group of weirdos she’s find herself apart of. There are worse ways to get to know people, although she’s having trouble thinking of what.

#shameless self promotion

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

you came back wrong and i am racked with guilt because i cannot bear to see you like this and i should have let you rest. i loved you so much that i defied death itself but i do not think either of us are happy

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

how?? just how?

#video

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

remember that time that spock said “this is about sex” but he couldn’t say sex so instead he said “biology” and kirk clearly knew what he meant but was awkwardly like “what kind of biology” and spock got this look on his face like ‘oh lordy i’m not dealing with this today’ and said “vulcan biology” and kirk can’t say the word sex either so he goes “u mean the biology of vulcans” and then they stood there in silence for ten seconds like a pair of fucking idiots

#star trek #star trek tos #Spock #jim kirk

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Evelyn Demirci (Ace!Tav) Character Bio

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Basics

Nickname/Aliases: Evie, Tavern Mouse, Tav

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Age: 26

Race/Subrace: Human (Gur)

Class/Subclass: Bard/College of Lore

Alignment: Neutral Good

STR: 10 DEX: 15 CON: 12 INT: 8 WIS: 13 CHA: 17

Appearance

Skin Tone: Dark Olive

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Black

Hairstyle: Long and braided

Build: A bit slim, acrobatic and flexible

Height: 5’ 6’’

Style: When not in her performance dress, typically she wears some nondescript adventurer garb meant for comfort over style; something that will make it easy for her the blend into a crowd

Weapon(s): Rapier, dagger

Instrument(s): Violin, Lute, Lyre

Personality

General Personality Traits: Personable, Empathetic, Withdrawn

Ideals: People. She is committed to the people she cares about, not to ideals.

Bonds: She is just trying to end the day with a full stomach and a roof over her head, even if it will only last that one night. Anything more permanent feels out of reach.

Flaws: Doesn’t share much about herself, including any negative or uncertain emotions she may be feeling in the moment. It’s easy for her to get lost in relationships.

Secrets: Her sexuality

Regrets: Not pressing her father more about their tribe. Maybe then she would have been able to find them.

Relationships

Best Friend(s): Gale, Karlach, Wyll

Family: Emelie Demirci (mother/deceased), Ryland Demirci (father/unknown)

Lovers: Astarion

Sexuality: Asexual

Backstory

Evie didn’t get the start most would consider ideal.

Her parents were part of a tribe of Gur traveling across Faerun, slaying monsters and earning money where they could, even if certain townships looked down on them. Unfortunately, her father, Ryland had a habit of living up to the stereotypes. If people were going to see them as cut throats and thieves, might as well be a good one. Evie never got the full story, but eventually he crossed the line and was forced to leave the caravan. Her mother soon followed, loving him too much to leave him.

So, Evie was born in the back room of a tavern as it was the only place her father could find that wasn’t a tent in the middle of the woods. It didn’t do her mother much good either way as she died not long after.

Ryland did what he could, at least at the start. Evie would later reflect with vague memories of an Inn, the smell of rosemary and her father tucking her into a straw bed. Those memories wouldn’t last, however, as they were over taken by a blur of different ceilings, tent canvas, the night sky, hard dirt and stone cobbles.

He taught her how to pick pockets and use those big blue eyes of hers to gain sympathy of the local tavern keeper for an extension on their bill. Sometimes he’d leave for days at a time, swearing he’d be back sooner than he ever was. They wouldn’t kick a little girl out on the streets now would they? He just needed to earn some extra coin.

It wasn’t usual for Evie to be put to work then, cleaning and sweeping, a little mouse scurrying here and there searching for crumbs and trying not to get stepped on. Eventually the little tavern mouse was being called Tav rather than her given name; a name she could hardly argue against, especially once her father left one final time, never to return. She was eight years old.

It was long after she was told to find a new place to stay. Her father was behind on payments and the owner didn’t want a Gur pick pocket hanging around his customers. That first night, alone on the street, was just about the worst of her entire life. For some time after those streets would be her home as she did what she could to eat and find a safe place to sleep, day after day as she searched for even a roof to have over her head.

Some merchants and tavern maids took pity on her, letting her stay for a time and earn her keep, but something would inevitably go missing and the finger would be pointed at her. It wouldn’t matter if they found nothing in her pack or in her bed roll or if the item was found a day later, she would be out on the street all over again.

This continued for years until she was about twelve years old working at an inn where a company of bards and actors came to perform. The leader, a tiefling named Lyric, was an extremely talent musician and Evie found herself absolutely entranced. The owner of this particular inn wasn’t especially kind and she knew she’d be accused of something sooner rather than later and so that night she snuck into the players caravan to left.

She was discovered the next morning, but rather than leave her in the middle of nowhere, Lyric took pity on her. So long as she earned her keep and didn’t slow down the caravan, he didn’t see the issue.

He taught her how to play once he discovered she had a talent for music, gifting her a violin. He wasn’t an warm man, but neither was he cruel. He was simply her mentor and just about the only stable force in her life. But like so many things, that would not last either.

When Evie was about seventeen, Lyric and a few other of the players were caught attempting to steal from a rather rich lord in town. He hasn’t told the others of this plan. The only reason Evie and the rest were able to escape was because another one of the group saw the arrest and warned the others to scatter. Evie was left again without a home or even acquaintances to rely on. All she had was a pack with five days worth of rations and a violin. But she would be alright, she’d been alone before. At least now she could make her own way.

Even so, every town she passed through, each new face she met, she found herself looking for something she couldn’t name. The bonds she made always felt temporary, slipping through her fingers the harder she held on. Still, she had to try.

Nothing in her history, however, could prepare her for an illithid ship and the group of weirdos she’s find herself apart of. There are worse ways to get to know people, although she’s having trouble thinking of what.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 oc #tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x evie #spawnsong #astarion #astarion ancunin #asexual!tav #bard!tav

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

#star trek #wrath of khan #the wrath of khan #spock #leonard mccoy #jim kirk

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

History of Step

What is Stepping?

What is Step?

Stepping or step dancing is “a percussive dance in which the participant’s body is used to produce complex rhythms and sounds through a mixture of footsteps, spoken word, and hand-claps,” writes the African American Registry.

Step has its origins in Africa, as dancing has been a large part of traditional African culture for centuries.

Calling Step a "bizarre silent dance without music" has to be one of the wilder antiblack racist descriptions I've ever heard of stepping lmao. Anyway if you see the video, it's step!!! They're stepping!! It's a Black American form of dance!!

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Bg3 companions as Dungeon Masters xD

lae'zel is always good for a last joke

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Local rabbit committing secret crimes against the church

#lapin cadbury #a crown of candy

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

And I know there's lots of you that have other, non romance NPCs you'd date, but I'm just doing these guys for now.

Please reblog for a wider voting pool!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #duh

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

have you ever seen a man so beautiful you started crying chewing on him

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Mortal Astarion X F! Human Tav. Ummm, angst.👀

For decades, this manor offered him a place to call home in the truest sense. 

The hallway was a sacred gallery, adorned with paintings that were not mere canvases, but tangible echoes of their life together. Each brushstroke, lovingly rendered by her hand, captured the essence of cherished memories.

Whenever he opened the door at the end of the hallway, he was greeted by the radiant smile of his beloved, and the hearth beckoned him to surrender to its comforting embrace. Yet, it was the vast window next to it that held the greatest significance. The tender caress of sunlight danced across his skin as he lost himself in the pages of a book beside her. It was here, bathed in the golden rays, that he could truly revel in the miracle she had bestowed upon him – the cure to his vampiric curse, a gift of life, a reminder of the depths of her love and the power it held to transcend even the most insurmountable of boundaries.

Here at home, he had found everything his heart desired.

But nothing is ever truly perfect. Life simply doesn't work that way.  Even the mightiest of fortresses cannot withstand the relentless march of time.

He thought he was ready for it, but not like this.

Never like this.

_________

The poem cited is "When You Are Old" BY W.B. Yeats. One of my favorites.❤️

Alright, thanks for reading the second installment of my "this did not really happen to my couple". After delving into the mortality of my Tav, Amaara, I found myself confronting a fear more profound than death itself – the fear of morbidity, of life's vibrancy fading before its inevitable end. So I decided to yank my CP around this theme. Self-indulgence at its finest.😊

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #nobody touch me