#and we try to look at it as how well it does as an adaptation

[isa-ghost]

Oouuu h h .. u wanna talk about your hcs for early years Phil… ooh …(expanding from The Beginning if you want ! What you think the continuation could be, anything before, etc :) )

Oh god oh fuck I have so many thoughts and not enough braincells to put them into words, uhhh

Phil headcanons masterlist

His start, as we know it, is just a humble tinkerer and explorer with big dreams and even bigger ambitions.

I mean we been knew but HE IS A FUCKING GENIUS AND JUST DOWNPLAYS HIMSELF TO HELL AND BACK. He is SO SMART, sketching and studying and calculating things. He's SO PERCEPTIVE and GREAT at adapting, much like the birds he admires so deeply!! He NEEDS his brain busy. He can CRAFT, and a lot goes into that!!

Actually, his downplaying, lack of self-confidence, and inability to see his true skills and worth might come from all his failures trying to fly. He fucked up so many times, nearly killing himself a few and falling harder and harder each new time he failed. Every one of those failures just reinforced the thinking. And he had no one there to beat the doubt out of him and keep him going. Loneliness is a good way to get too deep into your own head.

His skills were and perhaps still are mostly (subjectively) smaller scale things such as the wings. It's once he found the builds of the deities that things kicked up a few notches. The structures were already built to the scale he thinks he can't pull off himself, all he had to do was restore, repair, and improve them. This is what eventually got him on Rose's radar. Even so, even doing little things on those monumental builds helped boost the size of which he can create things. His love slowly changed from tinkering to architecture.

A part of him fears (or perhaps knows deep down) that he is doomed to always eventually lose his wings.

But luckily, Kristin made them very resilient when she gave them to him. Based off what we know from observation, (and biology of birds maybe?) they heal and repair themselves over time.

And when they're severely damaged, he has Rose. After all, she chooses to be a sort of guardian for him similarly to Kristin. When he needs it, she can restore them each time he returns to Hardcore, the same way he restored her creations. It's how she shows her gratitude. All he needs to do is be in the right world. She can't do it across realms.

If there's anything to remember from the animatic, it's that Phil never quits. It takes A LOT to make him do so, and even then there's a chance that some period of time from the moment he decides to throw in the towel, he'll get back to it with fresh eyes and renewed determination. He's stubborn in more ways than one.

To this day, he wonders why crows seemed so heavily present around him in the first place. Of course he loves them, they fascinate him with their looks and symbolism and intelligence and adaptability. But... why did they one day just become so present? He's ""too fuckin dumb"" to think of why, so he doesn't bother. He just enjoys them.

Which brings me to another point. Oh my god is this man allergic to willingly sitting down and confronting huge potentially life-changing shit, especially stressful and negative big shit. Look what he did with the possession. He pretends he does not see it until it's too late, which backfires often.

His interest, if you can call it that, in [not super high stakes] combat developed once he met Techno. As he honed those skills, he applied his agility and the knowledge he had of movement from all his flying to it. He is a Very flexible, graceful fighter.

In general, he's very attuned to his body, both because of what he's had to learn in order to fly, as well as being careful in Hardcore. His self-control is fantastic.

In one of the first few headcanon sets I made, I said Phil fears lacking control of himself. That not only goes for autonomy, but physical control of himself too. It originates from all his falling and being grounded against his will. It's another reason that Ender King not only possessing him, but taking away his wings in the end is such a brutal blow to him.

Kind of a given, but between being an explorer, and once he picked up that interest in crows and desperation to fly and stay airborne, he spent way more time outside than in. We crows see it present day, he really only goes in to sleep and to store things.

Kristin gave him boons, so to speak, such as his wings, when they initially met. She's also the reason he can understand the crows and actually speak to them. He built Brian because Brian makes it even easier for us to communicate with him, but generally speaking, he can still understand us even without Brian's aid.

[cyborgartalchemist2]

Imagine being so fucking aggressive about a ship you make jokes about Magneto and that very groomer scene from X-Men 97 that just... excuse the behavior? Because that doesn't sound very progressive in my opinion. Like yeah... rape culture in relationships just permeats fucking shipping but lets do nothing to argue against it. Lets make jokes that perpetuate the behavior and excuse men taking advantage of women.

To me having Magneto take advantage of a much younger mutant under his tutelage because she's desperate for physical connection and he's the only one she can touch is meant to showcase A) how Gambit contrasts Magneto and B) remind us that Magneto is never above using mutants for his own gains.

If this were reality most people would be calling Magneto a groomer and worse. We know Rogue was still a teen when Mystique took her in. We know that she's been an X-man for a few years. So Magneto was patient enough to wait until she turned 18?

Historically he hasn't done well with his love life. Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver's mom left him without telling him he fathered children because she was scared of him! (I'm only going on TAS and 97 here since this is an adaptation.) So where in the high heavens does everyome think he would be good for Rogue?

I don't care about the 'better than Remy' arguments because that's not the point! The point of who you ship Rogue with should be about if it's a relationship that is good for her! Is she their equal? Does she get treated with respect? Magneto looked at the Genosha council and without asking Rogue said "I'll lead but only if this woman I am trying to get back is my queen". LIKE DOES THAT EVEN SOUND MATURE? Magneto shows up, sees Gambit and Rogue being even mildly affectionate and starts pulling asshole moves on Rogue. And the narrative did nothing to make Rogue stand up for herself (which she would have) she should have told Erik "I'm a big girl I can get my own sugar for my coffee." She is shown numerous times to remind everyone she is no one's 'territory'.

Also wish to address the fact that making Rogue x Magneto comes with a 'sex is the only thing that matters!' Flavor that is exactly what so many of us are tired of in shipping. When did shipping stop being about the drama of a couple fighting against a narrative that pushes them apart or about finding love in the most unconventional of places, like alien hunting? And become solely about how nasty they can fuck? Seriously?

AND it's so blandly hetero it's not even funny. Because honestly the ways in which a couple can experience pleasure that don't involve traditional p in v penetration is vast and wild and there are enough types of gear and costumes and the like to facilitate that between Rogue and Gambit. Because that's all the argument has to stand on, is which man can fulfill her sexual needs. WHICH SHE HERSELF REALIZED WASN'T ENOUGH. She kisses Erik and goes "nope they're ain't any sparks there. This isn't going to be fulfilling ever."

Not to mention the fact that I can't genuinely see Magneto offering to die for Rogue. Sorry that grandstanding in Genosha was not the same. It was barely a heroic move... he still didn't save the Morlocks he promised to protect... he still failed. He couldn't save Leech and he couldn't stop the Sentinel either. Because yeah Magneto attempted to save Rogue and Gambit, but he did nothing to save the Morlocks at his side and he also survived without taking out the giant killer robot... but Gambit? Gambit said fuck it, gonna take this motherfucker to hell with me. He stopped Rogue from facing the sentinel so he could. And he actually stopped it. All on his own. Because that's what an x-man would do. Sure Magneto protectdd two people but sacrificed the morlocks yet again...

AND ON THE SUBJECT OF ROGUE x GAMBIT

Has Gambit always been great with Rogue? No, but that was the 90s and now look at how he handles shit? Comics writing has grown. It was a lot more heternormative and still had lots of rape culture hold overs in it.

Look at the episode when Cody shows up. He uses Rogue's connection to him from the past and then puts her in a situation that almost takes away her humanity. Her powers, which was what lured her into this trap in the first place, saved her from a man taking advantage of her. And the one time Gambit (in TAS) takes advantage of her, Morph in her form, told him to come and get some from her first. (So while he should have paused and woke Rogue up before kissing her, he had what he thought was an invitation.)

Gambit takes Rogue's decision to rule Genosha with Magneto incredibly well. He doesn't get mad, he doesn't call Rogue names, he doesn't do anyhting to hurt Rogue the way she is hurting him. He accepts it like a gentleman. Unlike Magneto who pursued Rogue's affections in unhealthy ways.

So uh... yeah that's my fucking rant.

[varpusvaras]

As much as I love the 90s Moomins, one thing that is missing is how much more attitude the characters have in the books sometimes, like

Fredrikson, in the first episode of Moominpappa's Memoirs: Hey, Edvard? Wouldn't you bathe in the river today? The water is nice and warm and the riverfloor is the softest sand ever!

Edvard: *goes to swim in the river and causes a wave so Moominpappa and co can get their boat to the sea, nothing more about that*

Edvard, in the third episode: *casually turns up to the wedding, because he likes weddings, everybody is friendly, nothing more about that*

vs in the book

Fredrikson: oh hey, Edvard, we haven't seen you in a whi-

Edvard: THERE YOU FUCKING ARE! WATER NICE AND WARM AND THE FLOOR SOFT SAND? BITCH IT WAS ICE COLD AND G R A V E L

[opqrstuv04]

the next person to grimace comically when I tell them I’m an English major is getting backed over with my Kia

[webslingingslasher]

Could you write something kinda similar to what you wrote before? Like with insecure reader but it's like the opposite, maybe her not being intimate with Peter yet because guys usually dump her after they hook up with her?

iiiiiii, dunno about this one :(

It’s not like you're a virgin. 

If you were, it would make sense to be a little scared. Or maybe it was anxiety. 

However, Peter Parker was a good guy. He held your hand like it was his job, called when he said he would, he’s close to all your friends, even adapting some to his own group. He asked to kiss you the first time he did, not expecting it but hoping. He always paid for your dates, even when you try to strong arm him into not doing it. 

Peter was a good guy. A really, really good guy. 

So why do you hurt him time and time again when he tries to take it to another step?

You could see the confusion filtering through, he used to be good at hiding it but more and more the poker face is fading and you can read the real emotion. 

If you have sex with him, you could lose him. 

If you don’t have sex with him, you could lose him.  

You were set to lose no matter what. 

It was getting harder to say no, this time you had to force yourself to pull away and gasp for air. 

“Um- movie?” 

Peter closes his eyes against the pillow, he’s fighting the tightness in his jeans poorly. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Making out with Peter is really, really fun. Everything about Peter was fun, that’s why you don’t want to lose him. 

You don’t want to look back, he’s laying down and you’re sitting up trying to find a movie to hide the truth behind. 

Peter’s had enough on his end. 

“Uh, baby?” 

“Yes?” Don’t look back. 

He knows you’re not a virgin. 

“Can we talk?” 

“About?” You search for a movie harder. Don’t look back. 

Peter pauses, he’s not sure how to word it. 

“Do you… Are you… Is…” Frustrated, he huffs, “what would the next step in our relationship be?” He needs to know, do you both have different versions of the next step? He thought sex would be a no brainer, but it seems like you don’t want to do it with him. 

Sex. 

Sex would be the next step, you know that and so does he. But if you say it will he expect it? 

Don’t look back.

A nonchalant shrug, “sex, I guess.” 

He’s tired of looking at the back of your head.

“Can you look at me, please?” 

No. 

“Yeah,” you turn. 

Peter looks soft, almost sad. He’s always thought you were good at reading each other, he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. 

“Are we on different pages?” 

Your head tilts, “what do you mean?” 

His turn to sit up, “I’m ready to have sex and I thought you were too. But it feels like you always worm your way out of it, and that’s fine cause if you’re not ready then I’m not either.” 

Either, either, either. 

He’s in this with you. 

“Every time I’ve had sex they always leave after. I don’t want you to leave.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “babe, I’ve got like, thirty shirts in your closet. I’m not going anywhere, and if never having sex is my only way to prove it, I’ll do it.” 

You raise your eyebrows, “really, you could go without sex forever?” 

He shrugs, “eh, I mean, I really like you, and sex is fun but you can’t miss what you don’t have. I don’t know what it would be like to have sex with you, but I know how much it feels to miss you.” 

Is this how love is supposed to feel? 

It’s getting really hard saying no, and if he says it, he means it. You’ve learned that by now. 

You check your phone, if he’s still here in the morning then he’s your forever. 

“Well, I also don’t know what sex feels like with you.” 

You move in closer, “but, I’d like to find out.” 

Peter’s eyes lit up, it’s not about getting to bone you, it’s about the trust you have for him. Even you can read his look that well. He leans in to kiss you, his words whispered against your lips. 

“I’ll make breakfast.” 

[wolfiesmoon]

Bakery

Leona x gn!reader

ok but can we feel the love tonight tho

i learned something new recently and i want to put this knowledge to good use (smirks evilly at leona)

also i am sick asf right now so i apologise if this is sloppily proofread

It seems like being Leona's pillow has become a part of your daily at this point. It's become an unspoken routine for you.

Usually, he'd sleep anywhere but he had to adapt his sleeping habits a little because of you. Turns out most people don't find the floor of the greenhouse a comfortable napping spot.

Usually, the perfect spot is your room in Ramshackle dorm. It's quiet and empty, save for the pesky ghosts that interrupt the two of you sometimes. It makes for the perfect hiding place when Ruggie is bothering him with some stupid papers he needs to solve for potionology, too.

All in all, worth the walk to the dorm. Especially since he gets to see you and feel your warmth without fail.

You were already waiting for him on your bed, busying yourself with scrolling through your Magicam feed. Usually, you keep a few textbooks for studying with you, but exams have mostly concluded for now. You know once Leona attaches onto you, you're not going to be able to leave for atleast 2 hours, so it's always great to prepare in advance.

Sure enough, you heard familiar footsteps getting closer and the door opened to reveal your sleepy lover. His tail swished when he caught sight of you. What a lovely sight, indeed.

"Hey Leona, had a good day?" you ask casually and he sighs in response, mumbling something about being tired. Well, that's just the usual, isn't it?

He climbs up on the bed and you smile at his sleepy expression. He's so cute when he's sleepy, but you probably shouldn't tell him that unless you want to get glared at.

Instead of crashing on top of you like you're used to, though, he places his hands on your belly, still sitting at your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't even meet your eyes.

Suddenly, his hands start moving in a kneading motion. A surprise massage? Not that you mind it, but that's highly unusual coming from Leona of all people. If anything, it should be the other way around.

"Leona..?" you question, trying to get a good look at his face. You can't really see it well because of the hair that fell to the side of his face. But from what little you can see, he seems to be in sort of a trance right now. His eyes are barely opened and he's wearing a little satisfied smile on his face. He doesn't respond to you at all.

"Leona?" you try again, a little firmer this time. He suddenly stops, probably finally coming back to his senses. You can see the way his eyes widen for a moment before he falls down on top of you without a word, wrapping his arms around you. Now you can't see his face at all, unable to read his expression.

"Leona, what was that?" you hugged him back, still a bit dumbfounded. You weren't going to lie though, that felt really nice.

"Don't ever bring this up again." Leona did not seem in the mood to discuss what just happened any further. He could have sworn he left that behaviour behind as a toddler. How embarrasing.

He's kind of worried now. That's how much you affect him.

"Oh... uh, okay." you pet the back of his head lovingly. Hmmm... now that you think of it, Grim does the same thing sometimes. The common denominator with Grim and Leona is that they're both cats, atleast somewhat.

If you apply this knowledge to what you know about cats in general... Oh, Leona, that silly goose. Seems he's a bit embarrased about kneading on you. You wonder if it was pure instinct.

yep, turns out the big kitties knead too, ain't that just a testament to the tried and true saying "cat is cat"

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

[bananami]

and just like that i’m back on my nanami bs. i hope this helps you all heal from the trauma that was season 2 of jjk <3 (cw: pure fluff, dad!nanami, wife!reader, sex is alluded to a number of times, nanami is just desperate for his wife ok)

“he just passed out, he usually naps for a good 30 minutes. i can do it in 20.”

you can’t help but laugh at your husband. ever since adopting yuuji the two of you have been adapting to your lives with a toddler. that included very limited one on one time, and it was taking a toll on nanami.

“i have to fold the laundry,” you’re tone is apologetic but your face tells him you find this amusing.

“you’re the greatest multitasker i know.”

you feel his arms wrap around you as you continue to fold yuuji’s t-shirts. the kid was so messy sometimes, it caused him to go through his entire closet in a weeks time. “we need to seriously go shopping and get him more things to wear.” you spun around to wrap your arms around his waist. “your child is a dirty little gremlin.”

“your husband is trying to be one too but you won’t let him act on it.”

“you are not gonna be 20 minutes, you say that but you’re not quick with it anymore old man.”

“who are you calling old man? i’m spry for my age.”

“see, you even sound like an old man.”

“an old man who just wants to show his wife how much he still loves her.” his hands slide up and down your back, holding you to him and bringing his lips to yours. “i love you. i miss you.”

“i miss you too kento,” you let him take his time kissing you. “ok, what if-“

“i love where this is going already.”

“i haven’t even told you.”

“the prospect of things makes me excited. really gets me going.”

you giggle, “so repressed.”

“you have no idea, it’s taking everything in me not to turn you around and accost you right here on the dining room table.” he leans his face down to nuzzle and kiss at your neck.

“accost?”

“accost. respectfully.”

you tighten your arms around his waist, satisfied with the heavy affection he’s showing you. “what if i call up gojo-“

“and just like that i’m soft.”

“kento!” you smack him in the back but can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face. he’s so easy to rile up.

“you know the emotions his name invokes in me. i can’t stand him.”

“i was going to say, what if i called him up to see if yuuji can spend the weekend at his and geto’s place with megumi, and then you and i can have the entire weekend together. just the two of us.”

“i love him.”

“wow, wait until i tell him you said that.”

“i’ll never admit to it.” nanami takes your face into his hands, kissing at your lips over and over until a giggling voice breaks the moment.

“eeeeew!!” yuuji runs forward from the other side of the hallway, jumping up and down at nanami’s feet. “up, up, up!!” and when he does the pink haired little boy leans over to give you a kiss on the nose.

“thank you, yuuji,” you give his nose a kiss in return.

“thank you, mama!!”

nanami narrows his eyes and scratches at the boy’s belly, sending yuuji into another round of giggles at being tickled. “guess who’s house your gonna sleepover at this weekend.”

you send a look toward your husband. “he hasn’t agreed yet, i still have to call him.”

“he’ll agree. because if he doesn’t,” he presses a million little kisses all over yuuji’s face, “i might actually die. and then who will he have to annoy at work?”

“he does like to annoy you.”

“i’m well aware.”

“i’ll call him now.”

nanami sets yuuji down, sending him into the kitchen. before following him, he leans over to give you one last lingering kiss on the lips. “i love you,” his smile lifts into a tiny smirk, “and it is for that reason exactly that i say, with all of the love i can muster, i am going to ruin you this weekend.”

“ruin me?”

“ruin you. respectfully.”

[gaypirate420]

Bath // Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gender neutral!reader.

A/N: Thank you to @steh-lar-uh-nuhs for sharing these. Huge inspiration!

Summary: After the battle with the newborns, you give Jasper a bath to make him relax.

Fluff. A little suggestive. Reference to hypnosis?

The Cullen's make their way back home, everyone let out a sigh of relief and tiredness after such an encounter. Emmet collapses on the couch and Rosalie sits elegantly by his side, Alice makes her back to her room, her eyes unfocused as she sees different futures of what's to come. Carlisle and Esme just silently make their way to their room.

Although they're vampires who's bodies can't get tired, they are mentally exhausted. The tension hasn't faded but Jasper it's too tired to try and make them feel calm, which makes him feel worse because everyone's emotions are affecting his.

His right side it's burning with new bite marks that go from his shoulder to his forearm.

At least nobody else got hurt.

Well besides you.

The first signs that something was terribly wrong was when you had a trip to Seattle and returned as a vampire.

Jasper just remembers how scared you were, terrified of this new reality. He feels bad, you wanted to help with the battle but you're a newborn, still adapting, still learning.

He sighs, he basically locked you up in his room and he hates himself for it. At least you got your stuffed animals to keep you company and relive some of the anxiety you felt.

The blonde vampire opens the door and immediately meets you running to his arms. A smile creeps on his face as he picks you up and wraps you in a tight hug.

"Hi." You whisper, Jasper immediately notices the relief in your voice.

"Hello, darlin'." He buries his face on your neck, holding onto your scent and the comfort of your arms, it makes him forget about the venom that's running through his body.

"You smell like those dogs." You speak with a slight frown. Jasper chuckles and sniffs his hoodie, yeah, he does smell like wolves.

"How about we take a bath?" You asked with a flirty tone, pulling him by his wrist. The blonde smirks and follows behind.

"I see you've already settled in, sugar." He teases as he almost trips over one of your plushies. You giggled and pick up some things for the bath.

Jasper takes a glare of his room, it's mostly neutral colors, old photos and furniture. And then your things are a splash of color, a light of life.

Jasper rests on the wall, the pain of the venom stinging again. You looked at him worried as you fetch some towels.

"Are you alright, cowboy?" You placed a hand on his bitten arm, making him hiss in pain. You withdrawn your hand immediately.

"It's- n-nothin', hun. Just a couple of bites, nothin' I didn't expect." He explains softly, but the pain it's still on his voice. You nod, not fully convinced.

Jasper catches on the floral scent the bathroom holds now, you wave him to come inside, he smirks and takes his hoodie off.

"Stripping already?" You teased. The blonde chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist, locking his pale lips against yours. He holds the kiss, needing your touch after such an exhausting day.

He glares at your now ruby red eyes. He swore to protect you and the only day he didn't follow you somewhere you returned dead.

You kissed him again before your hands brush down his chest. Your touch is no longer warm but he feels like it is. Like the warmth you held never left you.

You pulled his shirt up, he didn't resist you at all. Your eyes widen at the sight of the bites. Jasper looks at his arm.

They look...like a normal bite would, if there's any normality in that, teeth buried deep and a horrible bruising surrounding it. Jasper sighs and closes his eyes, he feels your hand cupping his cheek.

"I'm alright, pumpkin." He tells you and kisses your forehead.

You help undress each other between giggles and teases. Jasper gets on the water, helping you to get inside.

The water it's warm, with one of your bath bombs fizzling and tinting the water pink. The scent of lavender lingers on the air and some candles were lit to make the setting more romantic.

His bathroom was very plain, white and clean, with the constant changing of home he doesn't really put much thought into decorations, but since you started dating your skincare and other stuff were lighting up his surroundings. Now his bath has all these candles, bath bombs and fancy soaps.

He sighs and makes himself comfortable. He feels your hands on his head, removing leaves and small sticks off his hair.

"Can I wash your hair, my dear?" You asked softly, Jasper nods and closes his eyes. He feels you pouring some water on his hair.

He holds your waist close to him, feeling your body, his fingers caressing up and down the curve of your back.

"I'm not going to break anymore, cowboy." You whisper as you notice his delicate touch, he doesn't change it.

He leans and kisses your lips, there's some neediness on his kiss but not desperation, he keeps it's slow and sensual.

You pour some shampoo on his golden locks, your fingers start massaging his scalp in gentle circles. Jasper moans softly, making you shiver, his lips travel down your jaw.

"You're too quiet." You whisper with clear worry, Jasper kisses down your neck, a gentle and loving kiss placed on the bite mark that lies on your neck.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just can't help thinking about- the past." He whispers against your skin, his hands holding you close and his lips kissing your shoulders.

"It's weird. I've been hurt so much before- but this is different." He keeps whispering as you massage his head.

"What do you mean?" You ask with a gentle whisper, Jasper takes a second before answering you.

"Everytime I got hurt. Bitten. I just had to...keep going. Keep fighting. Ignore the pain, ignore my emotions and discomfort." He speaks with a lingering anger, he holds you a little rougher.

"But here- with you- I can allow myself to feel. To process what's happening. I would- I used to take my mind somewhere. Think about something else, dissociate completely." He takes a deep breath. You only listen to him, feeling your heart break as he keeps talking about his past, you rinse the shampoo off.

He looks at his new marks. Your fingers caress his scars with a soft touch, making him smile, he kisses your forehead.

"I didn't had anyone to caress me. To kiss me. To hug me when I was feeling down. And definitely no one to prepare me a bath." He chuckles and locks lips once more with you. He meets your eyes and you can see this shine in his.

A glimmer of hope.

"Thank you, sugar. For everything. You brought me back to life." He smiles and kisses you again, cupping your jaw, you lean on his touch and deepen the kiss. Jasper's hands have a strong grip on your waist, not wanting to let you go.

He buries his face on your neck and takes deep breaths. Your fingers run through his hair, undoing the knots with conditioner. A smile on your face as you enjoy this tender movement.

His breath is even, he doesn't need to breath, but it feels so nice to take in your scent over and over. If he was human he would be passed out because he feels so relaxed, safe.

"I love you." You whispered as you did your best to not damage the curls of his hair you loved so much. Jasper's eyes flutter closed. Since you became a vampire you had this ability of just making him feel so relaxed, he thought you did wonders when you were human but now it's so...

"I think you might have a gift, darlin'." His words sound slurry, almost like a human who's falling asleep. You blinked at his statement.

"Oh. Well- we'll sort that on another day, let's just enjoy that today is over." You whispered, your voice holding that soothing sound of one of a professional hypnotist. He smirks, this it's going to be really interesting to figure out.

He closed his eyes once more and let you take care of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hello! It's been a little while, I know, I'm sorry, and I'm not going to say I'm going to post more constantly because I'm back to school.

Also, if you want to request things with the reader having a hypnosis/mind control gift I wouldn't mind. I've been thinking a lot about it because I just like hypnosis. What can I say.

[togglesbloggle]

Evolution, Metaphor, and the Meaning of Gay Alligators

A few times recently, I’ve run across discussions about animal sex that are wrong in interesting ways.  I don’t want to derail those conversations, and I certainly don’t want to call out anybody in particular, so I’m branching off here- but the most recent one was in the notes about the discovery (original paper) that most alligator sex is between two males.

Anyway, a not-uncommon element of these discussions is for somebody to frame animal homosexuality as ‘confusion’, particularly with simpler animals.  The idea behind this isn’t too tricky: it proposes that the animal’s sexual instinct is functionally oriented towards (or intended for) heterosexual coupling and reproduction, but that the perceptions and processing power of the animal’s brain are too limited to reliably distinguish between the sexes.  As a result, simpler animals of the same sex may occasionally copulate with one another by accident, as one of the failure modes along the way to biological reproduction.

If you are a card-carrying member of the Tumblrati, the word ‘heteronormative’ might well be in your brain already, and fast approaching your tongue.  You might be building an argument about how sexuality has social as well as reproductive functions, that a lack of human imagination doesn’t prevent evolution from building towards homosexuality for its own reasons, and anyway human sociolinguistic concepts are a lousy fit for animal behavior.  These are pretty good arguments, but I’m asking you to pause that line of thought briefly; it’s not where I’m going.

Animals confound us in an interesting way: their agency is without question, but their sapience is limited, and we struggle to imagine ‘what it’s like to be an alligator’ for that reason.  What is it like, after all, to be conscious but not self-aware?  So when we ask ourselves why an animal does what it does, we tend to use evolution as a way to paper over that gap, and say “well, the alligators must be having sex in order to reproduce and succeed as organisms.”  Persistently, in odd and elaborate ways, we make this assumption that animals are themselves pursuing adaptive fitness in a way that’s much more direct than humans do, as if natural selection were a motive for animal behavior and not just an explanation for it.

This is the deeper and more interesting error that I’m trying to chew on.  The ‘mistake’ theory of animal homosexuality assumes that animals are motivated to pursue biological reproduction, not because of what we know about them as individuals or as a species, but because of what we know about the forces that produced them.  This assumption gets silently made in the case of alligator sex in part because we often make this assumption, it’s nearly our default way of thinking about these things.  

I’m very sympathetic to this error!  Biology and especially anatomy is our go-to example of purpose in nature; questions like “what are your lungs for?” have obvious (if surprisingly sophisticated) answers.  Behavioral instincts are a little more complicated, but it’s still kind of the same thing- we can cogently talk about the reasons why we shiver when we’re cold, for example.  And every time we have this conversation, natural selection is looking over our shoulder waggling its eyebrows at us.  This kind of language can be very, very misleading, inviting a slip from “we <are born with an involuntary reflex to> shiver in the cold because it helps us survive,” to “we <agentically prefer or choose to> shiver in the cold because it helps us survive.”  It’s practically designed to trip us up like this.

I think this happened in our language because of the theological fights around evolution in the early days of its discovery.  You know how it was- Darwin, the monkey trials, all that nonsense.  Natural selection accounts for biological diversity and the seeming-purpose of natural forms in a way that requires no conscious designer (or Designer), and so what might have been a purely scientific discovery also ended up blowing a hole in the social and religious functions that that sense of purpose provided- and was called upon, in some ways, to fill that hole again.  Evolution got smooshed into a sort of theological shape, and now we have the sort of culture where the phrase “evolutionary imperative” feels like it makes sense to us instead of being an obvious contradiction in terms.

That theological shape comes back again and again when we try to speak poetically about natural selection, because it’s always lurking very shallowly under the surface.  In these failure modes, we talk about natural selection in almost filial terms, a generative entity that hangs out in a workshop occasionally holding up new animals for our perusal; it’s hiding behind Kipling’s ‘gods of the copybook headings’, NRx’s ‘gnon’, Scott’s ‘Goddess of Cancer,’ and so many others.  I did it a little bit myself, not three paragraphs ago!  I called evolution “a force that produced them,” like it was some sort of creator-deity sculpting gay alligators out of clay.  Like “what evolution wants” is something that a person can talk about…

Metaphors and language are hard, but I’ve been trying to think a lot lately about how to build a story about evolution in my head that doesn’t have this problem.  Something passive, you know?  Something that doesn’t have the property of being a designer, doesn’t tempt us into treating ourselves and the organisms sharing our world as if we were all agents of some Lovecraftian entity.

I’m not entirely satisfied with my answer just yet, but for now, I’m trying to let evolution be a labyrinth.  It’s filled with twisting corridors and strange rooms, dead ends and loops, and terrible, deadly traps.  It’s unfathomably large, and mostly empty- even though trillions and trillions of us have explored this maze, we’ve only really seen a small part of it, and out beyond the edges of our knowledge, there’s still mile after endless mile of quiet, dark corridors that have never known a footfall.  

It’s not a comforting place, and even though we were born here, it’s not really home; it’s not something built for us, or one that’s especially concerned with our wellbeing.  But the thing about this labyrinth is that most of the rooms have prisoners in them, strange and unfamiliar beings held in stasis and waiting for the door to open so they can spring into life and begin their own wandering.  And this is a treasure of a kind, if you want to see it that way; not wooden chests full of gold coins, perhaps, but something new and beautiful all the same.  And if that’s not reason enough to explore the maze, to go out beyond the relative safety of the room you were born in- then, well, there’s always the rumors that there’s a real exit, hidden somewhere among the twisting corridors.

It’s… not bad, I guess?  The metaphor has its uses.  

I think it does a decent job of capturing and illuminating lots of our moral intuitions; bioconservatism (and to a lesser extent, social conservatism) as a refusal to explore the maze, rejecting the insane dangers of exploration and the questionable rewards of the search and instead preferring to stay at home in the room where we were born– still trapped in the labyrinth, but at least alive, at least for a while.  It shadows that position with the correct amount of irony, reminding us that human existence follows from a four-billion-year history of discovery, adaptation, and mutation by nonhuman organisms; it reminds us that the discovery of human beings came at a terrible cost for those who came before us.  And importantly, it allows any given organism to be a thing-in-itself.  Sure, life originates in certain places and certain patterns according to the latent shape of the labyrinth (though my metaphor isn’t very good at describing that shape…), but it’s free to act as it prefers, and live or die by those choices.

My hope, anyway, is that by dwelling on this metaphor, and stepping back from all the talk about creators and purposes and imperatives, you’ll find it easier to see what ought to have been fairly obvious to us: alligators have gay sex because they think the other alligators are sexy, and they want to have sex about it.

The questions that follow after, like “why do alligators find each other sexy?,” are also important!  It is vital to learn as much about the shape of this labyrinth as we can, the better to traverse it safely, to explore it comprehensively, and maybe even to find the exit.  But those are different questions, and conflating them can only lead to confusion.  We must begin by acknowledging that we and our fellow-travelers on Earth do not exist for the sake of natural selection, and that any willful concessions to it are strategic, not moral.  The creatures all around us- human and otherwise- carry their own motives and their own reasons within themselves.  To live in the world as it is, we have to confront that radical pluralism head on, and not try to wipe it away by pretending these are all just masks over some domineering force of nature puppetting them towards inscrutable ends.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[justaaveragereader]

10.01 | Frankensteins Monster

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Monster Fucking, Stomach Bulge, Electrostimulation, Size Difference, Man Handling, Unprotected Sex (Wrap It Up), Nipple Play, Clothes Ripping, Oral (F Receiving), Soft Boy Monster Jongho, Spanking, If I Missed Anything Let Me Know 👀..

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

NSFW UNDER CUT ~ MDNI🔞!!!

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want too, Jongho.” You whisper out as quietly as possible.

“Yes he does! I need to know if it is properly working. And what better way to find out then you my sweet.” Dr. Frankenstein says through a pout while squishing your cheeks.

You bat his hands away from your face, rubbing Jonghos shoulder, trying to give him as much comfort as possible. It was his first time having sex as well…a monster. Dr. Stein felt it was best to run a test on his own creation to see if it was possible. The test? Seeing if the penis he had attached to Jongho could function normally. Hell, it better had worked well, it’s not like Dr. Stein sent you to a cemetery to dig up endless male bodies to decipher which penis would work best.

Jongho was 7 feet tall, 250 pounds of lean muscle, with the most off white blue skin you had seen. Both eyes were two different shades of brown, border lining black, big metal bolts stuck out each side of his neck, he had stitches covering various parts of his body, as none of those pieces belonged to his original body. Visually a terrifying monster to most people, but to you he was the softest thing that rolled off a metal table. Despite not knowing his own strength you had grown to like Jongho. Wanting his monster to “adapt” to what it’s like to be a real human, he decided why not start with a penis. Why? Dr. Stein didn’t even brief you with an answer on it.

“I just want you to fill out this clipboard when you are finished y/n. Tell me how it goes.” Dr. Stein shoved a clipboard with various pages attached to it, some pages had his own scribbled notes on them.

“Wait! You want us to do it..here?” You whispered loudly to Dr. Stein, while Jongho couldn’t speak, a couple grunts here, a couple grunts there. He wasn’t very verbal. Dr. Stein was still in the process of trying to tweak his vocal chords. While he couldn’t speak he was very smart, whatever he lacked in vocals, he made up for it with knowledge, he was highly intelligent.

“This isn’t romantic sex Y/n. This is for science! I will give you both some privacy.” Dr. Stein wiggled his eyebrows at Jongho giving him a firm grasp on his shoulder. Leaving you down in his work area, with a clipboard in your sweaty palms. Your eyes are shooting everywhere, refusing to look at Jongho.

Letting out a small grunt, your eyes lift over to Jongho. Who is slightly smiling while looking at you, his hands flat against the metal slab, dwarfing the piece of metal. You walk closer to him, your hand gripping the clipboard for dear life. You stand between his giant legs. Fiddling with the pen located at the top of the clipboard. Jongho never intimidated you because while he was a monster, who truly didn’t know his own strength. He was always gentle with you, he made you feel like he couldn’t even harm a fly.

“We really don’t have to do this, Jongho. You get a choice too..” you whisper out quietly. Still avoiding eye contact. He slowly raises his hand, grabbing the clipboard out of your hands. Placing it down next to him. Standing up, his body easily towers over yours. Jongho could make anyone feel small. Letting out a small grunt, he places a cold finger under your chin, tilting your head up so you could look at him. Your body is littered with goosebumps. For a man of few words he definitely knew what he was doing, that part of his brain definitely was intact. Your hands are tight in fists, nerves wracking your whole body. You don’t know if you were excited or full of nervousness. You’d be lying though if you said that the height difference between you both didn’t make your lower stomach tight.

Flashing you his signature gummy smile he grabs one of your hands that is tightly wrapped in a fist, causing your body to immediately relax at his cold touch. He steps closer to you, cocking your head back as far as it could do, the look in his different colored eyes is telling another story. You feel his hard cock crush against your belly. While you dug up the bodies you didn’t help Dr. Stein pick out the body part. Too exhausted from the hard labor you had done but boy oh boy did Dr. Stein pick out a thick one. Why would you expect anything less though? Dr. Stein only strived for the best.

You let out a small gasp at feeling his hardened length against your stomach. His giant hand that dwarfed yours, moves your fist down to his cock, making you feel how hard he actually was. You relaxed your hand, letting your fingers dance along his length, by the first brush of your fingers he jerks his body back slightly. The feeling of your hand on him was enough to make him prematurely cum. Letting out a small breathy grunt, he grabs your hand signaling you to stop touching him. Placing one hand on your waist he turns you around, pushing you down so you’re sitting on the metal slab. Now that you are seated you finally take in the true size difference between the both of you. He was going to break you in half.

You lay back on your arms, parting your legs so Jongho can fit further between them. Taking the invite he stands between your legs, cold fingers running over the swell of your breasts. You shiver slightly at his cold hands. His other hand coming up under your shirt, cold fingertips brushing against your warm skin. Letting out a small groan at the warmth radiating from you. His lips part as his hands travel further and further up your shirt til they meet the bottom of your bra. What he thinks is a small tug on the bra results in him lifting you slightly off the metal slab, your head bumping into his stomach. Huffing and puffing at the contraption that’s holding your chest. Instead of helping him you are too dazed in the way he is manhandling your body.

Like you truly are nothing but a piece of paper to him. Gripping the neck line he rips your shirt right in half, causing you to let out a small chuckle, your hands coming up to run along the chiseled abs underneath his shirt that looks like it’s made out of rags. Your warm hands on his cool skin causes him to buck into you, a loud grunt slipping out his mouth, his hard cock pressed directly into your stomach. Grabbing both sides of your bra he rips it off of your body, your breast falling free. His hand immediately gripping one of your warm breasts causing you to let out a small yelp at the temperature difference. He was addicted to your heat like a moth to a flame.

“Please Jongho…” you whine. Your thighs are trying to rub together but his big body is in the way.

Running his hands through his dark brown locks on his head, his cold hand brushing against the bolt on the side of his neck. Bringing his hand down to brush over your other breast while he still has a grip on the other, his cool hand making your nipple pebble. As his other hand comes down to brush against your other nipple it sends a small shock to your nipple, causing you to let out a loud moan, your bud instantly perking up. Your body jerks slightly against him, making his hard cock dig further into your stomach. You feel it twitch, his cock surely worked.

“Again..” you whimper out pathetically. Jongho was far from dumb, he knew that brushing his hand against his bolt would send a current through him, as he was dead he couldn’t feel it. As to where a warm blooded, pumping heart body would feel the current. Bringing a finger up to his bolted neck he gives it a light tap before pinching your hardened nipple in between his giant fingers, another shock is sent to your nipple causing your back to arch off the cool metal slab once more.

“Jongho!” You yelp out, lifting his other hand off of you he touches the other bolt, bringing it down to your other nipple, sending it a small shock making it pebble up even harder. Your eyes rolling back at the spark. Your hand shoots out to grab his humongous thigh. Nails digging into the material of his pants. Your breathing becomes heavier, eyes growing hooded. With just a couple touches Jongho already has you wrapped around his thick fingers.

Letting out a sound that is very similar to a cocky laugh, he grunts, stepping back so he can pull off the pants you are wearing. You could help him take them off so he doesn’t rip them, but that would take the fun away. Wasting no time he grips the hem of your pants, ripping them clean off your body, his cold hands instantly finding your skin. Running his hands all over your lower body, finding home between the meat of your very warm thighs. Making both of your legs straighten against him, your feet weren’t even close to his head, they landed just under his pecs.

His cold finger runs along your clothed clit, oh he for sure was experienced. That part of his brain was clearly working. His cool finger pushing on the fabric causes it to sandwich between your wet lips, causing you to let out a small whimper. His eyes shooting up at you with the biggest shit eating grin you think you’ve ever seen. His hand brushes against the bolt, bringing his electric charged hand to your cunt. The shock causes your legs to buckle, yet due to his strong grip on your legs, they barely move an inch. Your wet panties cause the shock to be felt all over your wet cunt, the pulsing feeling making your head spin. His thumb brushes his bolt, placing the pad of it directly on your clothes clit, sending the small zap directly to your clit.

Your eyes instantly roll back, your mouth hangs open with no noise coming out. The feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Your skin is buzzing, your body hairs now standing, while your body is littered with goosebumps. Letting your legs go with his other hand, he slowly places them down so your small legs are hanging on each side of him, opening you up more to him, your body in a full spread eagle position. Gripping the crotch area of your panties he rips them off of your body. The cold air causes your goosebumps to stand even more.

Your wet pussy on full display for him, you looked like you walked off a magazine to him. His brain is short circuiting, you can tell from the sparks that are flying off of the bolts that are pierced on each side of his neck. His cock twitches as the fluorescent lights shine off of your slick that’s covering your cunt. Clearly in a daze, you run your foot under his rag like shirt, the warm sole of your foot on his cold chest, wakens him slightly. Spark from the bolts still flying rapidly but his eyes drift up to your face. A warm smile on your pretty face.

“Hey big boy…are you still with me?” You whisper, a warm smile that warms his cold dead body. Letting out a small grunt, he nods his head. Giant hand gripping his cock to relieve some of the pent up frustration he lets out a deep growl. A noise you’ve never heard him make, it sounds border lining primal. You can clearly see the wet patch from his cock, what exactly liquid that is? You aren’t too sure, yet you don’t seem to care. Licking your lips, you nudge Jongho with your foot.

“Come on Jjong…fuck me please.” You plead to him. The sparks now shoot farther from his body. That nickname always made him feel something. You were working him up on purpose. His hand fully grips the bolt on his neck, sticking out his tongue he touches it, sending an electric charge through it. Confused by his sudden movements, you sit up on your arms, watching him as he falls to his knees. Big shoulders cause your legs to spread even further. What was he..?

“Oh my fucking goddddd!” You instantly moan out, his electric charged tongue was pressed directly against your wet cunt. The shock goes instantly to your clit, but the waves of the current spread out to your whole cunt, making you clench around nothing. Your hands gripping the soft brown locks on his head. Touching his bolt again, he makes direct contact with your clit, the shock sending your head spiraling back, choking out a sob. Tears of pleasure fill your eyes, his other hand grips your breast, pinching your nipple. Between him constantly electric charging his tongue, and him flicking your hardened buds your body is feeling so many sensations at once. His cold tongue on your wet clit, with the shocks of electricity. The mini sparks flying off his neck, that are landing on your thighs.

He’s eating you out like he’s a starved man, he’s on a mission. Flat cold tongue against your warm heat, the temperature difference felt like it was tweaking your nerves. Your legs jerking with each flick of his big tongue, charging his tongue again, he places his whole mouth on your pussy, practically swallowing you whole. Sending a current charge to it all, your body jerking up, legs trying to close yet not being able to, while your toes instantly curl. The shocking feeling instantly sends you into a screaming orgasm. Your hands gripping his hair for dear life while tears pour down your face. Drinking down your essence, he lifts his soaking face off of your red, puffy cunt. Charging his finger one last time, he presses against your clit, giving it once more small shock causing your whole body to spasm, your juices leak out of you once more.

Your chest is heaving up and down, eyes shut tightly, trying to regain all the focus back on your mind. It feels like you are the one now short circuiting. You hear rustling, cracking your eyes open, you see Jongho shimmying out of his pants, trying your best to regain consciousness, you lock eyes with his lower half, wanting to see what is underneath the material of his pants. Just as he gets them low enough a pale blue cock springs out, with stitching similar to his skin running along his lengthened member. His cock, hard as a rock, with various colors on it, dripping a clear fluid? Wanting to make sure it wasn’t embalming fluid you sit up, running your fingers over his member, cock bobbing as you were giving it attention. You rub your thumb over the tip, bringing it up to your nose to smell it. It had no scent…did he fill his balls with water..?

Jongho getting impatient with your light touches trying to figure out what was taking you so long. He moves his hips forward, cock brushing against your bottom lip, licking your bottom lip trying to figure out the clear fluid, smacking your lips to get a taste. Bastard, he did fill Jongho with water. Smoothing your hands over his tight balls, you pump his enormous cock two times, before looking up at Jongho with a small pout on your face.

“Did he fill you with water Jjong? He prepared you just for me.” Jongho throws his head back, letting you pump his hard cock, your small hand not even coming close to fully wrapping around him. Grabbing your hand he pulls you off the metal table, holding you in his arms. He lays down, placing you on top of him. Seating you right below where is cock stands up fully erect, fully ready for attention.

“I’ve never had a cock this big before Jongho..” you whisper out, hands still rubbing alongside of him. A grin takes place once again on his face. Clearly proud that he will be your biggest. Gripping your hand he guides you to get on top, your drooling cunt wavering over his thick cock. Easing the tip into your body, you instantly moan at the pressure of just the tip barely brushing your walls. He’s thick, thick, thick. Your head instantly is thrown back, you ease down on Jongho slowly, thanks to him eating you out earlier it loosened you up perfectly. As your ass comes in contact with his cold legs. He charges his hand, touching the bulge in your lower belly, causing you to let out such a pathetic whimper it makes his cock jump inside you. Your hands tightly gripping his muscular thighs. The ridges from the stitching brushes your wet walls causing you to fall forward, your hands bracing themselves on his muscular chest.

“Oh my fucking god Jongho..” you breathe out. Chest heaving with pleasure, your cunt has his thick cock in a vice grip. His swollen head brushing against your spongy spot with each breath you take. He was wall to wall in your cunt, filling you up deliciously. If you had been looking at him you would’ve been he was holding back all restrain to not bounce you on his cock like you were some sort of fuck toy. He didn’t have hardly any feeling in his body due to no nervous system, but the way his cock could feel all of you was having him walk on a tightrope.

Giving your hips a wiggle, trying to get as comfy as possible you bring your hips up before slowly making your way down. Trying to get a small rhythm going before you lost your mind on his thick cock that was just splitting you open. Mouth hung open with each raise of your hips, throaty moans leave your mouth, your nails raking down Jonghos shirt. Jongho charges one of his hands, bringing it down to rub on your clit, the charge sending you into another dimension. Your body stutters on top of him, falling forward so your chest is against his upper stomach. You could feel the bulge in your stomach, causing you to moan even louder. The spacious area left no sound to the imagination.

“J..Jongho pl-please..” you grunt out with barely any breath. That grin reappearing he places both of his feet on the metal slab, hiking your body up. His hips immediately slamming up into you. Causing your body to jerk like you were a doll. One hand on your hip the other wrapping itself around your throat, keeping your body held up. His thrusts going at an inhumane pace, your eyes instantly fill with tears, your choked out screams are filling the room. Your pussy juices are coating your inner thighs, along with your ass, causing a wet slapping noise to fill the room. Echoing the space, you wouldn’t be shocked if even the outsiders who roam close could hear you. Charging his hand he slaps your ass, your back arching further into the air, the prickly feeling on your skin causes you to grip his wrist that is keeping you upright.

“Fuck..Fuck Jongho.” You stutter out with each slam of his thick cock that’s bullying its way into your warm wet walls, has you losing sanity. Charging his hand again, he slaps your ass once more, causing your body to litter once again with goose bumps, your nails digging into his wrist. Charging that same hand again, he slaps your ass even harder once more, causing a loud crackling noise that’s sparking from his bolts to be heard in the room. The feeling has tears pouring down your face, your body feels like it’s riding cloud nine. He has permanently ruined you for any other man or monster that comes after him. Charging his hand once more, he lets out a loud grunt, his hips hiking you up more, the way he’s bouncing you in the air like you weigh nothing has you practically catching air time. Touching his own cock filling it with electric current when your cunt slams down on him it sends a shock through your whole inner core, up to your brain. Your body instantly gets thrown into an orgasm, your back arching letting out a curdling scream of pleasure.

The electric current flowing from him, with your scream causes the lights to flicker, along with one of them busting, and shattering all over the floor. Jongho is still hammering away into your pulsing cunt, he’s jackhammering you up and down like you are a weightless rag doll that only he can use to get off. His grip on your throat tightens, charging his other hand once more he cups your cunt as he pulls out, shooting his clear cum fluid all over his hand that is cupping your oozing cunt. A loud grunt leaves his throat, causing another light bulb to shatter. The jolts of electricity cause you to succumb to the pleasure, ripping another forceful orgasm. Legs shaking, what’s left of the lights flickering, glass shattering orgasm. Your body instantly falls slack against Jongho, releasing your throat so you flop down on him like a wet doll. The buzzing noise of the currents of electricity in the room are all that’s heard besides your heavy breathing. Jonghos cool, clammy hands come up to cup your face to make sure you are okay.

Giving him a dopey smile, you give his cool lips a quick peck. Before laying your head back down on his chest. His cool fingers run up and down your backside. Eyes starting to get heavy, just as you are about to pass out from exhaustion, you hear a knocking coming from the lair door upstairs.

“The way I heard you screaming, I would say there are no complaints.” Dr. Stein says through a loud chuckle from the other side of the door.

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DO NOT REPOST.

[ladyshinga]

I keep being told to "adapt" to this new AI world.

Okay.

Well first of all, I've been training myself more and more how to spot fake images. I've been reading every article with a more critical eye to see if it's full of ChatGPT's nonsense. I've been ignoring half the comments on stuff just assuming it's now mostly bots trying to make people angry enough to comment.

When it comes to the news and social issues, I've started to focus on and look for specific journalists and essayists whose work I trust. I've been working on getting better at double-checking and verifying things.

I have been working on the biggest part, and this one is a hurdle: PEOPLE. People whose names and faces I actually know. TALKING to people. Being USED to talking to people. Actual conversations with give and take that a chat bot can't emulate even if their creators insist they can.

All of this combined is helping me survive an AI-poisoned internet, because here's what's been on my mind:

What if the internet was this poisoned in 2020?

Would we have protested after George Floyd?

A HUGE number of people followed updates about it via places like Twitter and Tiktok. Twitter is now a bot-hell filled with nazis and owned by a petulant anti-facts weirdo, and Tiktok is embracing AI so hard that it gave up music so that its users can create deepfakes of each other.

Would information have traveled as well as it did? Now?

The answer is no. Half the people would have called the video of Floyd's death a deepfake, AI versions of it would be everywhere to sew doubt about the original, bots would be pushing hard for people to do nothing about it, half the articles written about it would be useless ChatGPT garbage, and the protests themselves… might just NOT have happened. Or at least, they'd be smaller - AND more dangerous when it comes to showing your face in a photo or video - because NOW what can people DO with that photo and video? The things I mentioned earlier will help going forward. Discernment. Studying how the images look, how the fake audio sounds, how the articles often talk in circles and litter in contradictory misinformation. and PEOPLE.

PEOPLE is the biggest one here, because if another 2020-level event happens where we want to be protesting on the streets by the thousands, our ONLY recourse right now is to actually connect with people. Carefully of course, it's still a protest, don't use Discord or something, they'll turn your chats over to cops.

But what USED to theoretically be "simple" when it came to leftist organizing ("well my tweet about it went viral, I helped!") is just going to require more WORK now, and actual personal communication and connection and community. I know if you're reading this and you're American, you barely know what that feels like and I get it. We're deprived of it very much on purpose, but the internet is becoming more and more hostile to humanity itself. When it comes to connecting to other humans… we now have to REALLY connect to other humans

I'm sorry. This all sucks. But adapting usually does.

[queenshelby]

OSCAR SPECIAL (PART ONE OF FOUR)

Given Cillian’s recent success, I decided to jump ahead a little in my fics and give you a little Oscar Special. But don’t worry, I will cover off everything in between in due course and, for some fics, this Oscar part will hopefully get you guessing, while for others it will constitute a happy ending!

Our Dirty Little Secret (Special Part)

Nine months later…

"I don't know why I agreed to this," you told Cillian while clutching his hand just as the car pulled up in front of the red carpet. This was your first public outing with Cillian since the scandal about your illicit affair had broken just over nine months ago and whilst you had found your way together, society did not exactly approve of your somewhat controversial relationship with the 47-year-old. 

"It'll be fine. You need to trust me," he whispered in your ear confidently, as if it were just another date night for you and not the greatest gathering of Hollywood's glitterati. Deep down, you wanted to believe him but it was obvious to you that he had put on act, just for you, to calm your nerves.  He hated these events just as much as you did and knew how hard it was for you to adapt to this lifestyle with him.

"I should have stayed with Mara, Cillian. I never left her for so long, you know," you then tried to change the topic, talking about the daughter you had brought into this world together just under nine months ago, but Cillian simply chuckled. 

"Mara will be fine with my mum, at the hotel. I promise," Cillian assured you with a loving smile. "Despite, I really need you with me tonight," he paused, gently squeezing your hand. "I couldn't imagine being here without you, Y/N," he then finally told you as one of the red-carpet attendees opened the door for you both. 

"Don't you dare run off on me," you gasped, seeing all those intimidating photographers taking pictures of you both as he helped you out of the car, your white dress grazing the asphalt.

"I would never," he chuckled, playfully winking at you, as you bit back a smile, realizing that you were too easily flustered.

He then took your hand into his firmly, clearly showing the world that you belonged together and not a single soul would change that.

"Cillian, over here!" a reporter yelled out while, another, shorter woman with fiery hair, aggressively jumped in to get a good shot of you both. The molten sea of cameras around you ignited a varied assortment of insecurities you forgot you ever had. Suddenly, you were a ten-year-old girl again, your heart dancing under its master's feet set ablaze by judgement; but Cillian squeezed your hand gently, reminding you that you were a woman now—his woman.

A familiar warmth spread through your chest as his steely blue eyes fixated on yours. A silently brokered promise passed between you two: Survive this together.

The female reporter from earlier pushed her way to the front, locking her beady gaze onto Cillian with a voracious hunger.

"Cillian, how does it feel to be nominated as Best Actor for your performance in Oppenheimer?" she asked while you tried to back off a little, but Cillian would not leave you alone, holding you closer to him, showing the world that you both were together in this.

"It's a true honor to be nominated. I couldn't be more grateful. The cast, the crew, everyone really poured their hearts into the story, and I wouldn't be here without them. It was something unique and powerful," he responded, barely looking at the woman, but at you instead, trying to keep his focus.

"And I see you are being supported by your wonderful, young girlfriend tonight, making this your first public outing together. Is that right?" the reporter asked, curiosity sparking excitement in her voice as she studied you two intently. 

"Well, we do have a young child together, which makes it difficult for us to attend events like this as a couple," Cillian began to say while smiling at you intently. "But, especially tonight, I couldn't ask for more than her presence," he admitted, his voice dripping with sincerity as he gazed at you openly.

The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter: It was a look that held secrets, a silent vow. You squeezed his hand tighter now and were unable to keep the smile from growing on your lips.

Cillian then stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, causing you to disconnect from the chaotic dance unfolding before your eyes and connect to the feeling of being near him, a feeling that cantered and calmed you.

"Thank you Cillian, and good luck tonight," the reporter finally offered a soft smile before signalling to her photographer to take some more pictures. 

As you walked down the red carpet, a familiar pop song began to infiltrate your eardrums as you ignored the snippets of questions being hurled at both of you, creating a barrier between your world and theirs. Even with the nest of hundreds of reporters and photographers, the red carpet no longer scared you as it used to, especially when you had Cillian by your side, shielding you from the worst of it all.

Eventually, you both reached your seats, not too far from the front of the stage and Cillian introduced you to some of the actors and actresses he had worked with. You also met some familiar faces, like Emily Blunt and her husband John who both had a calming presence about themselves. 

The tension seemed to melt away as you chatted with them and, for a moment, you managed to forget all the critical eyes resting on you, fading into the background until it was time to be quiet for the opening speech.

As the ceremony commenced, you merely held hands with Cillian, giving his reassurance every time he gave yours. Despite the constant whispers and sly glances coming your way, you tried to embody Cillian's mantra, staying present in this moment and focusing on his unwavering companionship instead of the judgement weighing you down. For hours on end, you managed to simply enjoy the show and, when finally, it was his turn to shine, you clutched his hand even tighter. 

"And the Oscar goes to," the presenter announced, opening the golden envelope while, secretly you had been crossing your fingers for him all week long. "Cillian Murphy!" he then announced, making a-thousand-cameras flash simultaneously as your heart began to race uncontrollably against your ribcage. It was a strange feeling, this overwhelming sense of pride that flooded you, leaving you bruised and raw from the exposure.

Standing up simultaneously with Cillian, a big smile formed on your face as, quickly you caressed his face. "You did it!" you whispered to Cillian, hugging him almost desperately as he embraced you back, tightly. He then kissed the top of your head, taking a moment to soak in the gravity of his achievement as the crowd around cheered and clapped for him.

"Fuck," he gasped, still in shock, before stagehands began urging him to come forward and take his spot to accept the coveted award.

"Go on and give your speech," you chuckled, gently pushing him towards the stage while blinking away the tears threatening to mess up your makeup and, just before he took to the stage, he turned his head quickly to capture your lips for a fleeting second, leaving an imprint of adoration behind.

With shaking hands, he mounted the steps, greeted by rousing applause, and you leaned against the back of your chair, watching his every move as he accepted his award. 

"Fuck," was the first word that escaped his lips, causing the audience to laugh in response and his actor's instinct kicked in as he used his impromptu curse to deliver an exquisite speech that brought a tear to your eye. 

"I am clearly overwhelmed by all this. Thank you. Truly," he spoke, his voice shaky. "I first and foremost want to thank Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas for having faith in me and creating such a masterpiece. To the incredible cast, Robert, Emily, and the rest, thank you for teaching me so much about the craft. I can't believe I get to share a title with such incredible artists," Cillian said before his eyes drifted in your direction, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And, of course, I want to thank my beautiful partner Y/N for supporting me through this in those last few months. You have pretty much been a single mother in the midst of award season, and I am so grateful that you are here with me tonight. To you, our daughter Mara and my son Max, I love you beyond words," Cillian said, his voice heavy with emotion, and it was then that your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He then proudly lifted his award into the air before humbly walking back to his seat, stealing a glance at you long enough to let you know exactly what he meant. 

"I am so proud of you," you whispered as he squeezed your hand again while, around you, murmurs originated from fellow celebrities congratulating him on his well-deserved win.

"This means a lot to me Y/N. Thank you for having been my rock those past few months," Cillian whispered back, his gratitude evident in the warmth of his touch. The intensity of his words caused your heart to flutter unexpectedly and, suddenly, everything around you became distant and muted.

Not too keen to attend the after party even following his success, when the show drew to an end, Cillian engaged in the necessary press engagements before suggesting that the two of you slipped away before everyone made their way to Vanity Fair. 

Together, you crept out into the night unnoticed, weaving your way through indulging crowds, gazing at each other, lost in all the nuances of the day that had unfolded—all the stolen glances between you both during the award ceremony, to the brush of his fingertips against your hand while trying to lead you through the venous crowds.

Eventually then, you arrived back at the hotel where Cillian's mother was watching Mara. She was already eagerly waiting your arrival and, as soon as Cillian walked through the door with the golden statute in his hand, his mother embraced him tightly. 

"I am so incredibly proud of you," she beamed while gripping his face, hardly believing her eyes. "Now you've got it all, a beautiful family and the biggest achievement of your career," she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye while looking at you and Mara.

"Thank you mum, and thank you for looking after Mara for us tonight," Cillian expressed graciously, managing a weak smile as he hugged her again.

Mara then squealed with delight, screaming, "Dada!" and you both looked at each other with great surprise.

"Did she just say daddy?" you gasped. You couldn't help but be utterly taken aback, finding yourself at a loss for words as you clutched Mara in your arms and buried your face in the nape of her neck.

It was the first time she had spoken and as you held her tightly, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love that coursed through your veins, rendering you dizzy.

You glanced up at Cillian as he stood there, flabbergasted.

"Dada!" she said again, reaching out for the golden statute jutting out from Cillian's grasp. He chuckled and carefully placed it away before picking Mara up and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek.

"Hello Babygirl," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, and the love in that moment was palpable between them, radiating with a warmth that touched your heart. "I missed you," he then said and your eyes welled up a little. It was moments like this that made you rethink the decisions you made several months ago and you knew that it was time for you to make another now. 

"I think maybe it is time for us to move in together now," you proposed to Cillian suddenly, as he looked at you with a gentle smile.

"It seems like two wins for me tonight then," he replied, taking your hand in his as Mara gurgled contentedly between you. He had waited for you to make this call for months now, ever since he first proposed it to you and now it was finally here.

To be continued...

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[spirantization]

I'm surprised at the hate that Sokka's character arc from NATLA is receiving. To me, Sokka's development and characterization was one of the strongest adaptations the series made.

In the original ATLA, Sokka's character arc revolves around him unlearning his own misogyny. He makes pointedly sexist comments throughout the early episodes like "Leave it to a girl to screw things up!", "There's no way a bunch of girls took us down!", etc.

Sokka's comments have a strong narrative purpose: they give a platform for women in the show (Katara & Suki mostly) to refute his attitude. Katara emphasizes traditional "women's work" (cleaning, cooking, sewing, etc), which forces Sokka to confront its inherent value. Suki is able to prove to him that women can fight too and he learns to respect female warriors. It's a great character arc and it's well-executed.

It's also characterization that is in direct response to the culture and feminism of the 90s and early 00s. The representation of women in the media at that time was...oof. It was not great. One-dimensional love interests whose only purpose is being saved by the male protagonist, mostly. Female protagonists were not as common, and certainly not ones who were depicted as being able to fight, and certainly not in cartoons. Female protagonists in animation were almost exclusively princesses.

ATLA was progressive in this regard. Katara was a complex female character in a time when there were not a lot of them, in media in general but especially in animation and kid's shows. (I grew up in the 90s; there were no characters like Katara in animation on screen for me.) ATLA incorporated the zeitgeist directly into the story, which is why we have Sokka learning to overcome his sexism in his interactions with Strong Female Characters.

If you go back and watch the original cartoon now, Sokka's sexism feels a bit dated. It's a very 90s, Girl Power, "girls can fight too" style of social commentary. It doesn't match with the media landscape of today. We've got 20 years of media with female superheroes behind us. If your message is "girls can fight too!" the response for the most part is going to be "yes, we know that. And?"

So imagine you're adapting the original ATLA for a live-action remake. You want to keep Sokka's character arc intact, but you want to update it for the 2020s. So what do you do? You look at the conversations that are happening today.

The 90s were about "girls can do everything boys can do", but the 20s are over that. The conversation is more about gender: gender expression, gender roles, gender dynamics. What does is mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man?

Sokka's character arc in NATLA is focused on this question: What does it mean to be a man? At the beginning of the series, it's his identity as a warrior that defines him. He needs to be the warrior, the protector, the leader. He's constantly trying to reaffirm this part of his identity, and it's completely tied up in his perception of his value as a man. Instead of his interactions with Suki being about "how could girls possibly be warriors", it shifts to Sokka saying "I'm ALSO a warrior" and trying to justify that to Suki (and mostly himself).

His arc over the series is about him accepting other aspects of himself and relearning how to define his masculinity. He can still have value as man without being the greatest warrior. He can still have value as a man by using his skills as an engineer. He can still have value as a man by offering compassion and kindness to others, like the little girl with the doll & Yue in her final moments. Instead of rigidly defining himself by a specific set of gender roles & expectations, he learns how to define himself through his own strengths and qualities.

I know there are a lot of people who are upset at this change to Sokka's characterization, and the most common thing I see is that it results in changes to Katara's character and her anger in response to Sokka's comments. I think there are valid criticisms to be made about how the show handled the adaptation of Katara's character, but I won't go there with this. In terms of Sokka and his characterization, it was well-done and thematically consistent with the original. It's not an exact port, and it never needed to be. It's still a feminist arc that centres on unlearning harmful misogynistic worldviews, but the focus has shifted from external (roles of women) to internal (his role as a man). And his journey is one that people would benefit from seeing represented.

[katyahina]

Godwyn and Fortissax fucked + I have an idea WHY Godrick's genes are so weak (his closest relatives' too)

Short post but I really like this topic hfhfdsf Okay so I double-checked the description of Draconian Tarnisheds and Godrick's dialogue, and:

The notion about Tarnisheds with dragonic roots having shorter lifespans makes me think that this is the reason; dragons and human(oids) are not the best mix! Godrick's closest ancestors might have had actual connections with dragons! Since it IS possible:

Dragons can shapeshift, so yeah.. existence of dragonian Tarnisheds likely implies that Godwyn and Fortissax fucked fsdhfdhs I assume her not just because of them being close, but also because she is unique amongst Ancient Dragons in being dark-colored and these Tarnished have coal skin,

At first I wondered if Fortissax' color might have been an effect of corruption, but then, again: if all Ancient Dragons are just stone grey, Draconic Tarnisheds could have had stone grey skin then because whatever connection made Draconic people had to happen before Godwyn became Prince of Death! Her corruption should then be referring to her losing a lot of her skin, with so much more gold insides showing through, and dark skin of this type of Tarnished revealing her actual color! (+ also post ( x ) on WHY I believe Fortissax is a she)

As for Godrick's and his close relatives and ancestors like Godefroy! Whereas Ancient Dragons refers to the rocky dragons from Farum Azula, there is another kind of dragons - feathered Greyoll's kind of dragons!

I used one of the babies around Greyoll and Agheel as volunteers, but you can see the dragon's body Godrick uses is certainly the same type of the dragon! Again, wings of Ancient Dragons for comparison, are also rocky and lack the feathers:

This makes sense that the branch of dragons Godrick is apparently related to is that of Greyoll's! We never see him use anything bolt-like, however, he does use wind-based attacks, like the rest of the Stormveil. His children do so too!

^ Worth to mention that Dragon Communion has connection with Godfrey (lion face is his mark), but the dragons laying in these churches are the Ancient types! These might be remnants of war with Gransax and others, since they did try to "defeat dragons by becoming them" as set of Dragonic Sentinels suggests! @fantomette22 offered another idea that maybe these Ancient Dragons instead were 'keepers' of these churches, and somehow had conflict with Greyoll's line of dragons. So, these churches came after Godwyn made peace between Ancient Dragons and Golden Order, and people were supposed to specifically consume hearts of Greyoll's dragons, not Ancient!

I don't know which idea I am leaning towards more, but I wanted to bring the Dragon Communion up just in case! Still, Godrick calls the dragon a relative and shows frail health, whereas act of eating dragon hearts gives you serpentine's eyes and makes you into a wyrm (most likely gradually lol). None is seen on him or his children, so I assume relation refers to mixing blood, not to the act of him or his ancestors consuming the hearts! In other words, if Ancient Dragons could turn into humanoids and have children (+descendants like Draconic Tarnished), maybe Greyoll's type could do this as well? 🤔

@val-of-the-north on the other hand, suggested an idea that rather than Greyoll's type of dragons being directly involved, it is all the same kind of genes of Ancient Dragons but having "evolved" into being like Greyoll's type! So, like her kind of dragons are more 'earthly' type, that evolved from Ancient Dragons straying further from perfection and divinity but instead adapting to whatever effects them (looking at you, Dark Souls!), similarly Ancient Dragon genes IN Golden Lineage changed too. And in roughly the same from-stone-to-feather manner, to mirror evolution (or corruption?) of the dragons themselves! I think this idea is very good in terms of how Fromsoft can't have enough of reusing the concepts!

^ Grafted Scions are also showing grey hair, despite being very young! It is not all grey yet and original color is likely black; same as hair of wandering nobles, which would make sense for whatever women Godrick slept with apparently to be noble too. Early grey hair could be manifestation of this poor health and shortened lifespan! Maybe humans with dragon blood in mix die early because they age early, but for Demigods it is just early aging.

(Video by Zullie the Witch ( x )) ^ At this rate I wonder whether these wings and feathers were actually grafted though, of they are sort of a side-effect of this "heritage" xd Like, sure, Stormveil is very much associated with the hawks, but modern Dragons ALSO having feathers makes me wonder! Especially since Godrick himself doesn't have any wings and feathers grafted on him, but the Noble Scions do.. Imagine feathers just showing on them because they are young, and maybe Godrick also used to grow feathers but they fell out by now due to simply his age!

______________

Conclusion: don't have children with the dragons while Godfrey isn't looking or something they will turn out kinda sick and frail idk