#if imma be completely honest

[spockoholic]

weird birthday vibes this year, wonder if my brother is gonna text me back (we are twins) or if he’s just gonna ghost me again this year

poll????

[maru666x]

I wanna beeeee a cloneeee

[plntmlk]

Oh boy, sure hope this doesn't have any unintended consequences 👀🍼

[goldenblu]

ok i know i said the sanji week day 6 fic was gonna be short but i’m 4k words in and only about halfway through so uhhhhhh i lied

on one hand: this means more future!sanji feels! on the other hand: the probability i finish this before march 2nd ends in my timezone is…unlikely. which i hate bc i really wanted to post it on his birthday hrrrrrrgh why do i do this to myself

(edit: fic has now been posted on AO3)

random excerpt from the fic:

Sanji was thirty when Ichiji appeared on his balcony one day without warning.

“The hell are you doing here?” Sanji asked suspiciously, tensing his leg.

Ichiji held up his hands placatingly. It was not a gesture that Sanji had ever seen from him before, and that was the only thing stopping him from kicking Ichiji out without waiting for an answer.

“I’m not trying to cause any trouble,” Ichiji said. He seemed to be doing his best to appear as non-threatening as possible. “I’m just here to speak with you.”

“Now?” Sanji asked. “After all this time? Why?”

Ichiji hesitated. “Can I come inside first?”

It was a request and not a demand, and that left Sanji wrong-footed enough that he agreed after only a moment’s hesitation. So he let Ichiji inside and then promptly had no idea what to do next. Ichiji looked so out of place in Sanji’s apartment, his raid suit clashing terribly with soft blue colors that Sanji favored. It was not a sight he had ever expected to see.

“I guess you can sit down,” Sanji allowed. “I’ll get you something to drink. Tea? Water?”

Never let it be said that he was rude to guests, even asshole not-brothers.

“Water is fine.” Ichiji sat down on the couch, almost looking awkward.

So Sanji brought over a cup of water and sat across from him, crossing his arms. Ichiji took the cup in his hands and looked down at it, brows knitting together, but didn’t move to drink it. When he continued to say nothing, Sanji snapped, impatient, “So?”

Ichiji startled slightly, like he’d somehow forgotten Sanji was there. “Things are different,” he said, finally taking a sip of his water. “In Germa, I mean.”

“I’m aware.” Sanji frowned at him. “Reiju told me that she’s been in charge and making changes.”

Ichiji nodded. “Things are different,” he said again. There was an edge to his tone now. Sanji couldn’t tell what it meant. “We’re different.”

Sanji paused. Ichiji didn’t specify who we referred to, but Sanji could make a guess. Because he couldn’t deny that Ichiji has been acting oddly this whole time. More uncertain, more vulnerable. More human.

Compared with the last time he saw Ichiji, back during the mess at Whole Cake Island, the difference was obvious, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Okay,” Sanji decided, flipping his cigarette between his fingers. He focused on keeping his voice even, his expression neutral. “You’re different. And now you’re here.”

He did not ask how. He did not ask why.

Ichiji looked a little startled at his easy acceptance of that statement. “I…” He hesitated before lifting his gaze to look Sanji directly in the eyes. “I wanted to apologize to you. I’m sorry for everything that we…that I did to hurt you. It wasn’t right. I didn’t know that then, but I know that now.”

That was something that Sanji had dreamed of hearing for the first eight years of his life. He’d so desperately wanted it, convincing himself that it could happen, that maybe someday his brothers would realize that they were hurting him, that they would care that they were hurting him. And then everything would be magically fixed, because that was how it worked in the fantasies of an eight-year-old, didn’t it?

He was not eight years old anymore. Nothing was magically fixed.

And maybe, despite everything, he and Ichiji were more alike than he thought, because the next thing that Ichiji said was, “I’m not expecting…forgiveness, or anything. I know that it’s thirty years too late. I know that it doesn’t change anything that happened.”

“It doesn’t,” Sanji agreed quietly.

“I really am sorry,” Ichiji said, just as quietly. “You don’t have to believe me. I just wanted to tell you I’m trying to be better.”

Sanji surveyed him, running his eyes up and down his form, and considered it. Ichiji sat hunched over, hands gripping his glass of water tightly. He wasn’t quite meeting Sanji’s eyes anymore, bracing himself for an answer.

Sanji realized what that edge in Ichiji’s voice was. It was guilt.

He sighed and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Ichiji tensed, and then immediately wiped his expression blank.

“I know,” Sanji finally said. “I know you are.”

Ichiji jolted a bit, jaw dropping open with surprise. Sanji pretended he didn’t see it. Instead, he got up from his seat, gestured at the kitchen, and said, “Are you hungry? I’ll make dinner for us.”

“What?” Ichiji said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re not going to…?”

He did not seem to know how to finish that sentence.

“No,” Sanji said anyway. “You’re trying. That’s all I ask for.”

I didn’t deserve what you did to me, but none of you deserved what was done to you, either, he thought. So he asked, again, “Well? Are you hungry?”

Ichiji continued to look at him, stunned, before nodding, slow and a bit dazed.

“Good. I’ll make you the best meal you’ve ever had,” Sanji promised. Then, curious but not accusing, he asked, “How come you’re the only one here?”

“I’m just the first,” Ichiji corrected. Then a half-smile tentatively ghosted over his lips, like it wasn’t an expression he was used to. “Duty of the eldest, isn’t it?”

“If it wasn’t before,” Sanji said, “it is now.”

He smiled at his brother and went to start cooking.

[nicoscheer]

The reel

X

Miles Kane in Italy = looking even more like a gay uncle 👑👑🥰 I look at this and hear “eyy 🤌🏽 ragazzi”

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X (she also highlighted a short video of when he arrived at the venue and promptly bent to pet the resident dog)

Pictures

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This screams Italian

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Baggio

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[kudzuoath]

In The After

The brain has been defeated, Baldur’s Gate saved. The next morning, all the adrenaline of survival has a certain Paladin and a certain Wizard celebrating being alive. 

*This is smut. If you know me, no you don't. In fact, if you happen to know me, this post is blank. Shoo.

---

Gale woke first.

And for a moment his mind started to spin, cataloging potions, which spells to prepare for the day ahead, which pieces of their companions armor need mending.

With the way those tentacles were throwing her around, he started to think.

And then he remembered. As if the aching soreness of his limbs weren’t reminder enough. He’d never climbed so many stairs so quickly. Or for that manner, scaled a gigantic undulating mucus slick brain stem before.

A long, long sigh fled his lungs. Something that brought his attention to the tiefling whose head was on his chest. He winced to see the newly broken horn, the knotted line of fresh pink scar tissue crossing one shoulder. The memory of blood and breaking bone presented itself before his mind's eye, and he couldn’t help but put his hands on her, checking that she was breathing.

Of course she was.

Thank you, Shadowheart, he thought.

There had come a moment when he’d thought the only way they would win was with his death. All of their deaths. But the memory of Temperance taking him by the shoulders and shaking him when he suggested it in the astral prism, her fierce denials, her very presence on the brain itself – it stayed his hand.

By Ao he had never been more grateful.

“Mm. I can hear you thinking from her,” Temperance murmured. She slung one arm more firmly across him and squeezed lightly. “Sleep now. No thoughts. Only bed.”

He grinned so widely he thought his face might split. And his heart – oh it had never felt so warm and full to bursting. “What, you don’t think we should get up right now and pursue our next death defying adventure? The dawn waits for no one, dearest hero of the sword coast. I’m certain the villains are queuing up outside that very door as we speak.”

She tilted her head and cracked one eye to glare at him. “No adventures. Bed.” Then stubbornly turned her face into him. Of course, since she did that, he could feel her smile. And he had the perfect vantage point to see how her tail was flicking back and forth, which utterly betrayed her.

“You’re awake now,” he teased. “There’s no stopping you once that happens. I recall one particular morning where you rolled right out of the bedroll and –”

Temperance sat up and straddled him, hands coming down on either side of his head. And then she kissed him quiet. Slow, languorous movements with her mouth that he matched. Marveling at the feel of her against him, at how warm and soft her lips could be. Though even now his hands checked for injuries as they slid down her back and came to rest at her hips.

Heat unfurled in his chest, every wretched part of him seemed to uncoil, to relax. And when she paused in her kissing so they could breathe, he could only gaze up at her with a heavy-lidded stare of adoration. Her face was still soft from sleep, her hair an unsalvageable mess. And she was looking at him like she wanted to memorize him. She brushed her thumb over his lips, caressed his stubbled jaw.

“You’re alive.” Her voice cracked. And she kissed him again. Not so soft this time. Intense and nearly bruising. Gale groaned low in his throat, that heat rising to the surface of his entire body, sweet pressure building in his belly. Like the finest of wines.

“We’re alive,” he replied. “Something that has been very much in question for months now.”

Temperance laughed and sat up, eyes bright. “We’re overdue a celebration of that fact.”

His mouth went dry as she pulled off her tunic and tossed it aside. She was resplendent, gilded in the golden light streaming through the window before her. Rosy pink from a blush all the way down her chest. Gale reached out to stroke the subdermal flat spikes over her ribs, following them to her back. Pulling her closer so he could lean in and taste her skin.

She moaned when his lips closed over one of her nipples, and his talented tongue went to work. He could feel how much she liked it by the way her skin heated under his palms. He cupped her other breast, callused thumb stroking her.

Her hands went to his shirt and began to tug. “Off,” she huffed. “Take it off. I want to see you too.”

He paused in his ministrations to do as she asked. Temperance went up on her knees so she could unlace and shimmy out of her leggings, then wasted no time unlacing his. He groaned and his head fell back when her hands brushed up against his cock.

“Lift your hips,” she said. And when he did so, she slid his trousers and underwear off at the same time.

It took a little doing before he could kick them off, but once he did he couldn’t resist pulling her back into his arms. Reveling in the feel of her naked skin against his, how soft those muscles could be outside of battle.

“You put the stars to shame, my love,” he said, hands on either side of her face. “Not even the astral sea could contain how much I love you, how beautiful you are. I could spend the rest of my days trying to describe the weight you have lifted from my soul.”

He watched her already flushed face go redder and her eyes widen a little. A little laugh spilled out of her. She leaned forward so their foreheads touched and caressed the line of his jaw, fingers trailing down his neck, following those dark veins of Karsus’ weave. “My sincere, poetic, Gale of Waterdeep.”

“Yours,” he said softly. “I like the sound of that.”

One hand remained at her waist, the other trailed down the outside of her thigh before gripping just below the knee and gently tugging until she bent it, opening herself to him. She shivered, eyes slipping closed, teeth sinking in her lower lip at the feel of his cock nestled against her pussy. And by the hells below she was so hot, and wet against him it was a struggle to remain still. He sat up, taking her with him and making her gasp and jerk when his cock head butted up against her clit.

“Gale,” she gasped.

He would never, never get tired of hearing her say his name with so much need. “Just relax, and let me take care of you, my love, please.”

“Any time,” she said, seemingly unable to keep herself from rolling her hips against him. A move that caused the head of his cock to slip inside her. Something that made the both of them groan. Electrified nerves sang where they touched. “Gale, please.”

“Patience… is not among our number this morning, hm?”

Hands on her hips he held her steady and began to move. Pushing more of himself inside her with an agonizing slowness. He’d truly meant to take his time, to drink her down and savor every moment like she was the rarest of wines. But gods, he was only mortal. Each burning delicious inch he sank into her threatened to break what little self control he possessed.

And then she was seated fully on his cock, inner walls fluttering, bright eyes closed. Her claws had already begun to tear through the sheets on either side of him.

“Very good,” he said softly. Words that made her whimper and bear down on him so that his eyes rolled back in his head. “Very, very good.”

“So,” she gasped, hands going to his shoulders and flexing there as she worked to avoid mauling him. “So are you.”

Gale’s throat felt too tight suddenly, the mirrored praise doing… something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“My Gale,” she said, draping her upper body against him. “My favorite person.”

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, drowning himself in her warmth. She was so – present. So solidly real against him. And warm. Not just literally, either. His lover, his paladin, his everything. Everything. The candle flame in the darkest night. “Say that again, please…”

“My favorite,” she repeated. She stroked his hair, bent her head to press a kiss to the top of his head. “My favorite person, my Gale, my love – ”

He took her down to the bed, bracing himself on his elbows. “I’ll show you the stars again,” he promised, bending toward her the way sunflowers bent toward the sun. Planting kisses all down her throat. Then Temperance hooked her legs around him and drew him back in.

“Please,” she said. “I want you right now. Just like this. Please, Gale.”

So he moved, sliding out of her and then rolling his hips and pressing his cock home again. Finding a slow, heavy rhythm that made the both of them pant. Sliding his hand between their sweat-slick skin to find her clit and circling it as he fucked into her. She cried out. To him and him alone. Meeting his every thrust, absolutely destroying the sheets beneath her between her claws and how incredibly wet she felt.

And oh the way he felt her react to every word out of his mouth – it felt like the sun was rising at the base of his spine. Heat, and pressure as he buried himself within her. Temperance abandoned the sheets, clung to him instead, trapping his hand between them. But still he did not stop driving her toward her peak.

“That's it, that’s very good, let go,” he said. “Let me feel you come, love, just like this. It will be so, ah, so easy, let go, let me catch you...”

She tightened around him, and sobbed out his name. The rippling clench of her inner walls dragged him with her, her pleasure his. Instinct took over and his hips continued to pump his seed into her until at last, at last he was spent and fighting to do better than fall onto her.

He managed, barely. They were so wrapped around one another that they ended up laying on their sides, his softening cock still inside her. When he tried to move she held him all the tighter. So they lay in eachothers arms for many quiet minutes, just breathing.

Until Temperance yawned.

“I don’t know if I should be offended, or flattered by that,” he said.

“Definitely flattered.” She tilted her head back to kiss him. Softly now.

“If you might release me, love of mine, I could clean you up. The last thing you want is to fall asleep with the mess I’ve made of you.”

“Mm…” she shivered when he moved, but allowed him to slip out of her. Her half lidded eyes slid fully shut, and he took the moment to look at her. So lovely. And truly, definitely, a mess. Though seeing her like this even now made something hot coil in his belly.

Rather than leave the devastated bedding, Gale settled lower down on it, between her legs. He was nothing if not a man of his word. And he’d made more than a few allusions to a talented mouth in her company.

He set his hands on her thighs and coaxed her to open her legs again. He spread her pussy open. Something that made Temperance sit up on her elbows and watch him, face pink. “Gale?”

“There is more than one way to clean a lady up, my dear. Allow me to demonstrate –” And he bent down and gave her pussy what amounted to an open mouthed kiss. She made an entirely new sound – almost a squeak – and jerked against him.

“Oh!”

Gale did exactly as he’d wanted from the beginning, and tasted her thoroughly. Himself as well, considering it was his cum he was taking a moment now and then to lick out of her. And Temperance kept making small shocked sounds of pleasure above him. Fighting, he could feel by the flexing, to keep from closing her thighs around his head.

“Don’t stop –” Her tail coiled around him.

He rewarded her by taking her clit between his lips and humming. Temperance fell over and swore raggedly. Her back arched. Gale stroked two fingers inside her, almost teasing. Too gentle by far.

But my wasn’t there so much to clean? And him with only the one tongue.

He took his time making her fall to pieces. Making sure to explore every slick and wanting part of her with his tongue. Continuing to stroke and suck through the second orgasm until the very moment, trembling and gasping, she tried to push him off of her.

“I love the way you look when you’ve been sated,” he hummed, sat up again and looking her over again. She looked utterly debauched.

“Come here, you menace,” she said. Her voice was cracked and a little hoarse. Her expression blissed out and dreamy even with her declaration of his supposed ‘menace’ status.

Gale went to her easily, and laughed into her lips as she kissed him and the tasting came full circle. “Menace,” she repeated. But fondly. “My menace.”

“Forever yours,” he returned. “Now that we’ve a hope of it.”

[seajestic]

Recently read hell take us, heaven can wait by KivaEmber. Am now obsessed with the idea of Demi-Fiend Akechi Goro. Sometimes all you gotta do to solve your daddy issues is to just nearly die and then get turned into a half demon in the most traumatizing way possible.

If you wanna read it, link is below the read more

[angstyvylene-i]

Omfg it finally sent yay

[mercurymacaroons]

wip . ۫ ꣑ৎ . do you fw this twink

[seokwoosmole]

Pro tip for any fantasy still recovering from the reality of this whole sf8 situation: what you DONT want to do is turn on YouTube at 4am and watch their entire Kpop Nation Warsaw performance, followed up by the music show performances of the songs they sang, and finish up by watching the video where they get their first win.

Consequence: Bawling your eyes out over a bowl of Count Chocula

No, I don't speak from experience. Absolutely not...Just giving sound advice.

[stormbreaker-290]

How are you doing you cute robo boy >:3

Hsgsgdhsg doin goodd X3 I had to leave super early and I just got back ebeheh how are you doin? :3c

[goldenhypen]

oh boy help i just remembered that i still have a so many dark blood event reqs that haven’t been touched yet 😭 it already took me a month to get out all that i did and then plus me going on hiatus for like another month didn’t help so like are y’all still even interested tbh? 😭 if i’m being completely real, i’ve lost motivation to write over the past little while and so there’s no inspiration flowing currently and like i also don’t like giving you guys smth i’m not happy with. ugh i’m in a dilemma like on one hand if i discontinue it it’ll feel v incomplete (esp w me thinking that i was so smart to leave jake for last <//3) and i’d feel like i’m also letting ppl down for taking the time to send in reqs and being excited about it and then never fulfilling that would just be <//333 but then on the other hand, if i discontinue the event, i’d def feel a lot a lot of weight off my shoulders, more free and can have a fresh start w everything. cuz ngl i think i am gaining inspiration,,,, but for other fics and ideas,, not dark blood requests. basically it’s putting my well-being, happiness and inspiration (for a lack of better words T-T) over others,,, and ngl it’s part of my beliefs and values to put others before myself so like <//3 like doing the dark blood reqs is still writing and i find joy in writing,, it’s just that when it comes to requests, sometimes that happiness becomes forced yk? help y’all i’m actually T-T

[kirbyddd]

barkbarkbark Riichi Book I's writing is like screeching chalkboard to my game designer's, translator's, and writer's ears all at once

it's got great concepts buried in there but it's in like the most anti-comprehension packaging conceivable

[dyslexic-fool]

I feel like one of the most underrated grave encounters monsters is the hand room scene, like imagine waking up to a tug on your body, it's pitch black so you turn the only light you have one and seeing just an arm on you. And then multiple arms begin to grow out of said room to try and grab you. Like Collingwood was lowkey cooking with that one it's a shame it was only used once during the entire franchise 😭

[tehmiesh]

"the azelhart line ends here" not if I have something to say about it, bud

[navree]

The rise of rhaegon shippers has making me really thinking. Will the dance still happens even if Aegon and rhaenyra married eachother, (going by the age gap between them in the book which less than it's in the show)

I know you said going by the book age gap but I'm gonna be operating on show logic for most of this tbf just because it's the one I'm more well versed in right now

If they'd been married in Targaryen tradition, probably not in the way that we saw. The Dance is basically Aegon and Rhaenyra going "I wanna be the monarch!" back and forth for a couple years while everybody and their mother violently dies in the process or ends up with trauma, and that wouldn't be the case if they were married because they wouldn't be rivals, they'd be part of the same family in a much different way, including that they'd presumably have trueborn Targaryen children to be next in the line of succession.

The Dance is caused by two main factors. One: Alicent and her family's firm belief that Aegon and his siblings and his children would be at risk of actual and literal death if Rhaenyra took the throne, reinforced first by the brothel incident and then by what happened at Driftmark. Two: the fact that putting Rhaenyra on the throne means that a very obvious bastard would become the heir apparent to the Iron Throne, and the fact that this would mean all out war not just because of how insultingly Westeros would view that, but how it could seriously screw with inheritance laws with everyone else in the kingdoms (if Jace became king ahead of his trueborn brother Aegon, then that'd cause problems for any lord who'd had a bastard before he had a trueborn inheritor). Both of these factors are somewhat negated by a world in which Aegon and Rhaenyra get married. There'd be no reason for Alicent to be so afraid for her kids, Aegon especially considering that Rhaenyra's now firmly tied to that half of the family via marriage. And there'd be no concerns about a bastard on the throne because both Rhaenyra and Aegon are shown to have no problem physically having kids, and they both have compatible sexualities (the show appears to have decided on a mishmash of Laenor not just being gay but also maybe having some kind of fertility problem, considering that they made that comment about him and Rhaenyra trying to conceive for a while before we got more Strong kids). So the Dance as an immediate succession crisis between two nearly completely separate parties, fueled by these specific issues, wouldn't exist, because Rhaenyra and Aegon would be much more intertwined and the issues aren't gonna be issues.

But I don't think that'd mean there was no issues. There's still the fact that Westerosi inheritance law does prioritize a son over a daughter, and with Viserys refusing to fix that, there's always gonna be some legal tension over who gets to claim the throne that's gonna come up the second Aegon is born, or any male child was born to Viserys no matter who he married. Like, how much power does Aegon have if he stays consort, or should he have any? Should he even be the one seen as consort or should it be Rhaenyra seen as consort and Aegon made a king? How this gets approached and who wants what and who backs which horse in that fight definitely has the potential to get ugly. There's also Aegon's myriad of issues that are just gonna cause difficulties in any personal relationship he has no matter what, as well as whether or not Rhaenyra still has an affair with Harwin and whether Aegon would be as on board with that as Laenor was. I don't think it would break into out and out war, just because of how much more connected Rhaenyra and Aegon are and also having kids thrown into the mix, and that they'd have to stay married because the only way a marriage can be annulled according to Westerosi customs is if it's unconsummated (or at least cannot be proven to have been consummated). I think it'd manifest more in some really ugly arguments especially between Aegon and Rhaenyra themselves (they're both petulant and volatile and blood of the dragon and can be vicious when angry), at least when Viserys is alive.

If there were any smart people at all, they might end up in something like a power sharing agreement, either in the vein of Aegon and his sisters, where he very clearly let them take charge in the making of laws and the administration of the kingdoms, though they weren't queens regnant by name themselves, or even approaching something like the Catholic Monarchs, where both Rhaenyra and Aegon are recognized as political monarchs and co-rulers in their own rights together, where they're both in charge, and of course the crown passes on to their eldest son. Whether or not that would work is up for debate, given their personalities and their different allies and who they'd seat on the Small Council, for instance, but it would at least negate even the concept of a civil war or any dynastic problems.

(also this would make alicent rhaenyra's ex girlfriend, stepmother, and mother-in-law in one go this family is so fucking messed up)