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galedekarios · 3 days

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Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.

You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!

i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.

i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:

they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.

they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.

they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.

the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.

for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.

add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:

[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!

[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.

[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.

[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.

i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)

...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.

additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.

as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.

#ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #text: personal #meta: mybg3 #bloodweave critical

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max1461 · 2 days

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I think in general people are too impressed by "paradoxes" and "unintuitive truths" and stuff from science and mathematics, e.g. Gödel's incompleteness theorems, the Banach-Tarski paradox, quantum mechanics...

This is part of my whole "people believe too much" thing. People commit themselves to too many strong general principles and too many implications between ideas. The average person should be more "passively skeptical". That is to say, they don't need to go out of their way to doubt or debunk things, they should just in general take a more "I dunno" stance towards the world; they should be more inclined by default to suspend judgement on things, including on the truth per se of ideas that they have decided to adopt as working best-guesses at the truth.

Coming at this the other way: in practice, life requires us to commit to all kinds of beliefs in order to figure out what to do in various circumstances. But I feel like a vastly underrated observation is that you don't have to really believe these commitments in any deep sense. You can be more casual, more willing to say "this seems like the most likely thing at the moment, so I'll go with it for now, but idk if it's really true". This is more of a posture towards ideas than a proposition in itself. Most people are willing to entertain the concept of doubt, but it's almost about... how fluidly you entertain it? Anyway, I think this posture of casual skepticism has many epistemic benefits.

The point I was making about "paradoxes" and so on, though, is like... ok, it was reasonable based on what was known about physics in the 19th century to adopt this view of the world as made up of little billiard balls with definite positions and momenta and all that, progressing according to clockwork rules. I think if I had been alive then, I too would have adopted that as my working best guess about how the world is. But I don't think I would've have been that committed to it. I mean it's purely an empirical thing, right—"huh, sure looks like the world is made up of little billiard balls progressing according to clockwork rules". And anyway, I don't really think any of the concrete claims of quantum mechanics are that unintuitive or philosophically troubling or whatever, unless you start out weirdly committed to this billiard ball idea. If you had a more casual stance towards it to begin with, I don't think QM would have been such a shock.

I mean, I guess I do think QM was (probably) justifiably surprising, but not for the reasons most people think that. Not because of its "deeper philosophical implications" or whatever, which again I think are not that big a deal. Just for the reason that the billiard ball idea worked really well for a long time and seemed to have a lot of success and (potential) explanatory power, so seeing it overturned, if you're a specialist familiar with the area, seems like very reasonable cause for a "whoa moment". But anyway, in light of this, I'm tempted to call it "surprising in a mundane way" rather than surprising in a deep way. And I guess my further feeling is that with a sufficiently causally skeptical outlook, there isn't very much that actually should be surprising in a deep way. Most surprising stuff should just be like "oh huh".

So anyway the fact that people keep getting deeply surprised at these scientific revelations suggests to me that maybe they have too many commitments.

#navel gazing

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dk-ghostmachines · 2 days

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I gotta talk about FourDogs (again)

It's barely about her, though. I think "he's so lucky his dad was brutally murdered" and "people with trauma need a second handicap because they're too motivated" are such absolute-the-fuck-ly bonkers takes, they're not even worth the time it took me to get mad about them, which was immediately. This time around, I have way more to say about audience reception. I'll try to keep it civil.

It feels like a lot of us are responding from increasingly personal places because these are characters with which a lot of us identify, or we see traits in them that remind us of people from our real lives. And hey! Another performance and storytelling slay on the part of one Brennan Lee Mulligan. Who else can invent 50+ characters every year and play them to the point where any one of them can evoke both an "omg that's literally me!" and an "omg that's literally Dani, the girl that bullied me all of freshmen year until I punched out her front tooth in the student parking lot and got in-school suspension for a month!". And whether Kipperlily reminds you of Dani, or reflects your own anxieties about potential, ability, and trauma, an important thing to remember is this: she is not real!

Brennan made her up! Brennan made her up to tell a story, and when he made her up, he made her annoying, petty, antagonistic, and he gave her not just opposing goals to the the protagonists we know and love, but the explicit goal of ruining The Bad Kids' lives, specifically.

Now, I'm not saying she's fictional to be a dick, or dismiss any deeper readings on her or any of the Rat Grinders. I'm bringing it up because the way I'm seeing people talk to each other about these characters is starting to get a little wild and it's in danger of waking up The Olde Gods™ (i.e. the special brand of Tumblr Self-Righteousness that lives inside us all).

It's important to remember Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work so that different interpretations of her don't get treated as stone law. Each reading of her is personal and valid, but none are gospel. The "Kipperlilly is but a victim" take is not the only correct one, nor is radical empathy for her as a character the only correct reaction. Also, even if I consider her sympathetic that is not incompatible with an opinion like "Kipperlilly needs to get roundhouse'd in the head by a lesbian in a tracksuit and/or a wizard in a jean jacket, posthaste". Sure, you can say that anyone who doesn't feel a deep and eclipsing empathy for Kipperlilly above all other emotions is immature at best and sociopathic at worst, but then I can just say anyone who demands solely empathy for Kipperlilly and excuses her literal crimes and bass-ackwards world view because she's insecure and has anger issues, is probably also someone who has a history of weaponizing whatever minority status they may or may not occupy to talk over, silence, or harass people of color.

They're both just opinions. And also, like. Y'know. A bit much.

To engage in the long and rich tradition of measuring character trajectories against those in the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon, let's compare Kipperlilly to Azula. Azula had an incredibly sympathetic backstory and untreated mental health issues. Azula was also a danger to herself and others, as well as profoundly manipulative and abusive (although, it was a children's show so Azula never killed anybody for whatever that's worth). Do I wish that fourteen-year-old girl had an Iroh-type in her life? Literally one adult who loved her genuinely and advocated for her best interests? Of course I do. I saw the Ember Island episode, I watched that one video essay! Does that mean it was any less satisfying to watch Zuko and Katara kick her absolute ass? No! And it was non-lethal anyway, children's show, duh.

That brings me to my other thing; Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work that is not finished. And I know that point will age poorly, but I'm thinking it won't be the only one (hey-o). Remember the people that were calling The Bad Kids bullies? And then we learned that Kipperlilly hated Riz because his fucking dad fucking died?? And that was a full academic year before getting reanimated by a rage god?? I'll do a tame one; remember when Gilear wasn't cursed?? He was "just a guy"?? The show is serialized, gang, the world is still building! Clerickiller is not done yet, y'all need to let her cook! I'm sure we'll tune in next week to see her graduate from "unhinged" to "unaffiliated with the door frame or any frame-like structure". Reprimanding people on Tumblr will not change the trajectory of this character who, by the way, has not expressed remorse or any desire for a path other than violence. You look me in my black face after your blorbo slits a kid's throat and say "help her"?? Kipperlilly doesn't want get better right now, she wants one thing and that's for Kristen Applebees to go fuck herself and die!! You were there, you heard it!! When the fictional behavior changes, as it often does in stories, so will my opinion. There is no fore-forgiveness. Without an actual redemption arc I will continue to see the villain as a villain.

Speaking of, I think what some people have an issue with is the level of hate Kipperlilly's getting and how aggressive it is. But like.... isn't that allowed?? Because of all the stuff I said but also because like, mama said that it was okay! And by "mama" I mean Siobhan Thompson who said Kipperlilly belongs under the jail. Sure, in the real world, adults don't tell kids they belong in the ground that's crazy fucked up, but all these kids are played by adults and Emily as Fig joked that she was gonna smite the sixteen-year-old girl played by the thirty-something man. You're telling me the antagonist antagonizes the protagonists, and the protagonists go "boo, hiss" and then I, the audience, go "boo, hiss as well" but I'm wrong? I'm wrong, somehow, cool checks out.

"They're XP Levelling*punches a locker*!!"

"That girl is worse than Kalvaxus."

"Littledoggy Girlcollar"

Am I not engaging with the narrative on it's own terms if I say "i'd tell Clerickiller to die mad, but she clearly already did, Jojo Siwa head-ass, in reference to that fuck-ass ponytail and your toxic yuri" Do I need to draw a little caitmay-style OC to say it for me, would that be better?

God-forbid, we have fun? Must we discourse, always? FourDogs is tragic, FourDogs is compelling, FourDogs is Dani from 9th grade. She is Azula from Avatar and Clare from Fleabag and Brennan Lee Mulligan from my dreams and that is something that can be so personal. But no one else has to participate in your parasocial relationship. What's crazy is, I actually like Kipperlilly! As a character. I mean, the "trauma is privilege" obviously hit a nerve with me because of real life stuff, but the image of her over the rogue teacher's grave?? With a backhoe and a "gotcha, bitch" expression??? Come on, that is fresh-off-the-vine Cunt™. Even more so than I imagined that moment to be when we first heard about it. Her ending up in a Ragh or Aelwyn place would be way more satisfying than a Goldenrod or Penelope Everpetal place, BUT IT WILL ALSO be satisfying to see whatever Kipperlilly's version of the locked-in-a-chokehold-and-being-gaslit-into-thinking-you-shit-the-coach's-pants-scene is. In addition to the non-lethal ass-kicking that proceeds it.

Y'all can chuck the insinuation that something so clearly subjective is actually objective and has moral implications that make me bad, directly in the garbage. What is this, religion, hey-o.

#lost some civility there at the end #but shit im not iroh #im a hater first #and an advocate for mental health third #and second i am an advocate for poc's getting their lick back against white people #especially if they were hurting your academic prospects #yes riz is a poc even though he's played by murph #me and demi adejuyigbe talked about it #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 #d20 #kipperlilly copperkettle #brennan lee mulligan #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #the bad kids

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philsmeatylegss · 13 hours

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Can I talk about Cat King because no one else will???

I haven’t finished the show yet so this might be wrong or age like milk

I could talk about his role in the story for hours. Tbh I overly identify with Edwin because I’m gay with a lot of problems in the past and Edwin’s historical typical internalized homophobia already makes a history nerd like me giddy with glee. And Cat King easily can be written off as a gag character, which I do think is part of his purpose, but he also represents the aspect of this story regarding Edwin’s sexuality not solely being sexual, but also still being sexual. As in obviously Edwin sexually fantasizes about men, but there’s much more than just that. That implication, acknowledging the fact, feeling free to tell Charles and the others, acting on that, just day to day life. Edwin had gotten by for thirty years ignoring his sexuality until cat king came along. Edwin acknowledging his sexuality, acting on it, and discussing it (in his own way) is a large part of his character growth which is fully pushed on because of Cat King. I know he’s supposed to be the bad guy, but I genuinely believe he is an anti hero or something along those lines. I think at first it was to just tease Edwin, but it grew into something deeper.

Don’t even get me started on the cuff. It is SO symbolic I could almost cry. It’s a physical representation of how limiting and claustrophobic it is to be in the closet. Specially not being out of the closet to close loved ones. You couldn’t have a closer relationship than the relationship between Edwin and Charles, but it doesn’t seem that way before Edwin comes out. And that’s multiple reasons on both of their parts, but part of it is that complete shut down to that side of himself. People don’t realize how much sexuality plays into day to day life. And Cat King made Edwin realize how much he’s missed out on. And also that he can’t put off his problems forever. Slay relatable.

I think the addition of Crystal and Niko also makes Edwin realize that he needs to at least recognize his sexuality. I think they help him realize how much he is missing out on by not being himself in general, nevertheless outing his sexuality.

And all of this goes back to the cat king!!! It drives me insane no one talks about it!!! There’s also the aspect that, on the surface, cat king is just supposed to represent lust. The difference between his feelings for Monty or Charles is that there’s emotions there while cat king is purely lust and a giggle. But when you think about the story, that’s just not true. When media deals with a character’s sexuality not being straight, it’s usually over sexualized or not acknowledged as anything sexual. Cat king gives that balance to his feelings for Charles. Because being gay is partly explicit. As is being straight, bi, pan, whatever (other than asexuality). Saying you are ___ sexuality is implying that you are sexually aroused by whatever gender(s). And cat king is that reminder while Charles and Monty are the reminder that love and relationships are also part of it. Cat king adds balance that makes Edwin’s character feel way more authentic and actually gay.

I haven’t even gotten to cat king pushing for Edwin to admit why he solves cases. WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT IT?!?! I was gnawing at the bars of my enclosure during that scene. It is arguably one of the most important scenes of the entire show. And it’s entirely brought on my cat king. Every single time Edwin either decides or is forced to reveal something vulnerable about himself, it’s Cat King!!!! Edwin’s confession that it is about preparing a justification as to how he should be allowed into heaven even though he is gay is such an insanely important moment and I’m gnawing at my enclosure again!!!

I may be studying history, but I’ve always been an English kid at heart and symbolism about religion and childhood trauma brings me to my knees. And Cat King is scratching an itch I’ve had for years that I had no clue was there anD NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT WHILE IT IS DRIVING ME BANANAS.

Anyway, that’s my case for talking about cat king. I just finished episode 4 and it’s gonna be really embarrassing when something happens the next few episodes that completely invalidates all of this

#this is me doing a quick summary about my feelings btw #rae’s rambles #dead boy detectives

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bepisbee · 2 days

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made a vidow carnivore shadow short!

also go look at it!! amazing art by @space-puppeteer its so good!

(post manga shadow lives situation)

The others were honestly a little terrified the first time they came home to Vio with his hand in Shadow’s mouth. They had been taking advantage of the quiet space. Since his initial curiosity he hadn’t had much time to delve deeper into Shadow’s unique intricacies.

It only made sense. He required a different diet than them after all. Why not learn the most he can? Vio was charting how many, where, and how sharp his mouth of canines were. Shadow was sitting patiently, mouth wide and frozen solid as the rest of Link stood there mortified.

Vio hadn’t noticed them until Red started crying about Shadow eating him.

Boy, that was a fun conversation.

Shadow focused back on Vio as he snapped back swiftly with a hiss. He’d nicked himself on one of the more dangerous teeth. Despite it really not being his fault, Shadow found himself apologizing.

“Sorry…” he held out his clawed hand to ask for Vio’s. He took it and gently rolled it over. He inspected it closely. Just a small cut on his finger, clean like a fresh knife. He made eye contact and kissed the spot softly pressing his tongue to it for a second. “You ok?”

Vio’s cheeks flushed from the unexpected intimate gesture. It shook him out of his hyperfocus. “Ah-” he cleared his throat. “Ahem. yeahh thanks. I’m okay,”

Shadow gave him his hand back.

“Do you…” He rolled over how to ask, “Have you… hunted for animals? with these?” Vio held Shadow’s hand this time, admiring the painted nails.

He laughed, “Hahaha, what, like a wolfos?” he could see it, funny as that was. “Not here I haven’t. There was always enough from the hinox and other creatures under us.” he waved his unoccupied hand dismissively. “There are markets, you know.” He subconsciously licked his teeth at the thought. “I have to be a wolfos for Halloween now.”

“Hm.” Vio stopped his inspection, interlacing their fingers instead. “Do you think maybe that accounts for your occasional over aggression and bloodlust?”

“You’re always so blunt.” he snorted, but not offended. “I dunno. Maybe? Are you suggesting I go serial killer on the local wildlife?”

“Haha, no no. I’m just thinking out loud. We should make a trip in town soon though,” Though, they might end up hunting anyway, lest they sell out the butcher. He got lost in thought about it again, mumbling. Did he need to sharpen either, like a cat? What type he liked better, how cooked, would he eat a cow?

“A cow??” oops he said that out loud. Shadow laughed really hard. “hahahaha what? like, just bite it??” His big grin showed off the sharp set. “If you bet me to, I would.”

Vio shook his head, amused. “No…well…maybe. The others would be upset.”

“Nerd.” Shadow leaned in and pecked his cheek.

#shadow link #vidow #four swords #vio link #chili writes #legend of zelda #fanfic #fanfiction #short #canivore shadow #sharp teefs

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tartsinarat · 2 days

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Pip: “…I know you will never think so, but I have always hoped that in another life, you had ran away with me that night.”

Hunter: “…”

Pip: “We could have actually been finally free from this gilded birdcage.”

So I’ve never actually posted anything deeper into how Hunter and Pip think about each other/ their dynamic other than silly sibling dynamic but it’s actually a lot more interesting than that.

Pip and Hunter actually have a complicated relationship that somewhat is like funhouse mirror on what Philip and Caleb may have been like as they both flip flop between the two roles but ironically Hunter predominantly takes Philip’s role while Pip takes Caleb’s. Which uh caused a lot of disagreements.

In the au canon, they see themselves as actually being siblings rather than cousins because the fake story that Belos made is a lot different from the og canon of the show.

So rather than being Belos’s nephews like how Hunter is in the show, instead they are his actual children that he had with a human when he supposedly visited the human realm. This is what Hunter believes is the reason why he has no magic but pointed ears and why Pip thinks he has magic but round ears.

The story that Belos created in order to explain why their mum mysteriously missing is that a group of wild witches killed her and the rest of their family. It’s also the fake explanation for how both Pip and Belos got cursed.

This also adds credence to why Belos hates wild witches to the public and why the day of unity is so important because they’ve all been told it’s going to properly unite the human realm and the demon realm.

I also find it much more interesting that instead of Hunter just knowing that his “family” died in a mysterious way like in the show canon that instead Belos actually created an extremely detailed false family history so those two wouldn’t go snooping around searching for any missing details

it makes it even more fucked up when these two later learn that everything was a lie because to further solidify the illusion Belos even implanted false memories so uh these definitely two struggle with the consequences of figuring that out.

But yeah properly onto Pip and Hunter, both of them were basically inseparable as little kids but ended up drifting apart because Hunter had started working as the Golden guard and Pip was too young to help out (and also Belos didn’t want to have to go through the long and tedious process of cloning himself again) so Pip was often left behind bored and alone.

This boredom has consequences because when exploring the castle Pip found out about something he really shouldn’t have…He inadvertently ended meeting the collector who was also really bored and wanted to play with someone who’s not old and boring like Belos. Uh safe to say Pip straight up almost died when Belos walked in on him and the collector chatting about titans.

Hunter also ended up eventually getting involved to try and protect Pip but ended up getting that wound across his cheek. They obviously both survived but they were both punished by not being allowed to use healing magic on their wounds and to be locked in their rooms for the foreseeable future.

Pip sneaks out and attempts to convince Hunter to escape the castle and run away because it’s not the first time they’ve been almost killed for a mistake but Hunter believes that they had both deserved it for disobeying authority and refuses to come with Pip.

Pip just ends up escaping by sneaking on to an airship but almost gets caught by Belos but just escapes in the nick of time with just a scratch across his thigh. Luckily the airship was being piloted Lilith who had no idea that there was a stowaway onboard as she was too busy planing on how to finally convince Eda to join the emperor’s coven.

Oh yeah Eda straight up slams the door in Lilith’s face and tells Hooty to eat any intruders, Pip sneaks out of the airship as it’s about to leave and while trying to get a grasp of his surroundings, Hooty sees him and its on sight. Eda saves him and ends up with a new roommate along side King and Hooty and patches him up because she felt bad for the little guy.

I’ll talk about Hunter and Pip’s familial relationship in the modern times in another post as this one got really long TwT

But yeah that’s the origin to this post of small Pip and why him and Hunter have bad blood until they met again like 7 years later.

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hachyxd-blog · 1 day

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Ray´s B-day fanfic <3

"Today, years ago, my favorite yandere was born from all the visual novels I've had the fortune to see or play. I can separate fiction from reality, but I don't think I'm the only one who would like to be there to hug Ray and give him a little peace. As a small gift, I wanted to make a short fanfic of my coffee addict alongside a little drawing to complement it. I apologize in advance if it's not understood well, English is not my language and I'm using a translator."

@concreteparasite Gracias por crear tal maravilla.

Happy birthday.

Who would have thought it would be possible to keep a secret from the great Binary star. Mc laughed happily in the kitchen as she finished washing the dishes. It had been just over a year since she moved into Ray's home. At first, it wasn't easy; it seemed like the option to leave was given, or rather, it was never up for discussion. After much talking, they managed to make it work together: Mc wouldn't be confined to her new home, but she would always stay in touch with Ray when she went out.

Truth be told, it's not like she could keep a secret from him; after all, he possessed the incredible ability to read minds, but she trusted him not to read hers all the time. Mc really believed it was impossible to turn on her mind... until she discovered it. On her maternal side, she spoke Spanish, and unconsciously she had been thinking in that language, discovering a weakness to Ray's ability. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't fully understand, but there was nothing he could do.

Today, in particular, he seemed very upset. I concentrated as best I could so that the only language I thought in was Spanish and not to ruin the surprise.

"Tell me what you're thinking..." Ray's voice appeared behind me, his hands wrapped around my hips as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was cute.

"I'm not thinking anything important," I said playfully.

"Stop," he said seriously.

"What?"

"You've been thinking in Spanish all day," His voice sounded annoyed, while I tried to contain my laughter.

"Really? I didn't realize."

"It's annoying."

"Well, darling. It's not the end of the world if you don't know everything that's going on in my mind."

Without responding, Ray left me alone in the kitchen and headed to our room, then came out in his superhero suit. Before me was Binary Star in all his glory, the only difference being that he didn't show that fake smile but still looked upset.

Unknowingly, due to my practice, I had been thinking in Spanish again.

Normally, he would give me a kiss goodbye and go to his vigil shift. But today, he flew off the balcony without looking at me. I won't deny that it hurt me. But it meant I was on the right track to keep the surprise.

Ray came back around 5 in the morning. Half-asleep, I felt him walking around the room before lying down on the other side of our bed. It seems he's still upset because he didn't hug me as he always does.

The next morning, I let him sleep, it helped that we slept separately, so I got out of bed easily. After putting on my robe, I went downstairs and asked the neighbor for my package. I had gotten a chocolate cake with coffee to celebrate Ray's birthday. But if I kept it in our house, he would realize I was planning in Spanish. The neighbor agreed to keep the cake at his house along with my gift.

I went back home, made coffee, and took the cake out of its box, and my gift was already on the tray.

In our room, Ray was still asleep. I cleared my throat and started singing "Happy Birthday."

Ray looked for a moment and then covered his face with his pillow. I could see that lovely smile; he was embarrassed.

I left things on the bedside table and threw myself to hug and kiss Ray; I knew I should have let him sleep more, but I couldn't contain myself after all these days preparing the surprise.

In no time, I was caught in his arms.

"Everything... was for this," His voice sounded deeper from just waking up, but he seemed happy.

"Yes, did you forget your own birthday?" I joked, stroking his soft hair, and running my hand over his cheek. "Ignoring them doesn't mean you stop aging, old man."

"No, I just don't usually celebrate it." He ignored my joke and just passed his hand over his face, somewhat frustrated.

"Well, get used to it. This might be the only birthday I manage to keep a surprise. Next year, you'll know what to expect." I exclaimed proudly.

Ray smiled, keeping his eyes closed; maybe it was the fact that he now had someone to be with him for the following birthdays that made him take this even more joyfully.

"If you don't want cake now, we can save it for later." I gave a glance to the table with his cake and gift, along with his essential morning coffee.

"How about the gift?" He pointed to the purple box. "Can I have it now?"

It was at this moment that nerves increased from zero to a hundred. Everything would be decided at this moment.

"Of course," I handed over the gift, watching as he slowly unwrapped it.

Ray's eyes widened as he looked at the contents of the box and then at me, pulling out two handmade dolls of them and a pregnancy test. After a moment of silence, Mc cleared her throat.

"D-don't think I'll give you a gift like this every year." I laughed nervously.

"Since when—" maybe it was shock, but his voice sounded distant, as if he didn't completely believe what was happening.

"I-it's still early, I haven't been to the doctor yet." Ray looked at me as if I had committed a crime. "I-it would have ruined the surprise."

Ray went from surprise to anger to simply accepting the inevitable: the love of his life was forgetful.

"I swear I feel fine. But you're happy, I mean, we talked about this in the past, but maybe you were thinking of another time in the future... I..."

Ray's hands took me by my cheeks, cradling my face, to give me a tender kiss.

"I am, I mean, I'm so happy that I'd like to hold you so tight in my arms and show you how excited I am about this." He gave me a subdued smile.

"Ray, what's wrong?"

"What if I don't do it right, being a good father?"

"Well, no father is prepared for this. We'll learn together..."

I could see Ray's face relax at my touch and my words. His hands surrounded my back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Happy birthday..."

"Thank you..." His whisper was weak, but I felt genuine gratitude.

"Next year, we won't be alone on your next birthday, Mr. Dad."

We stayed hugged for a while. I didn't know what was going through Ray's mind, but whatever it was, I would be with him.

When I set out to eat the cake, I was interrupted by Ray, who carried me to the shower to get ready to go to the hospital. It was funny how from one moment to the next, our small bathroom became a dangerous area in Ray's eyes: slippery floor, sharp-cornered furniture, and a bathtub where I could drown, among many other dangerous things. He took out his phone and started calling to have our entire home redesigned to make it safe for me and our upcoming baby. And may God have mercy on the people in charge if I ever got hurt, no matter how insignificant it was.

If this was going to be my life from now on, it would be a long nine months.

"Your father has gone crazy," I said as I stroked my still flat belly. "But that's how I love him."

#binary star hero #binary star hero vn #binarystarhero #bshvn

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fancylala4 · 1 day

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You arre just mad that Taylor Swift is the music industry and that she is succeding as a woman. I swear y'all just hate women so much at this point. She can't never do anything without you criticizing her. She can do whatever she wants. She is literally the greatest and most influental artist of all time. Music exists literally because of her. Madonna, Michael Jackson, Beatles, Frank Sinatra, Aaliyah, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Elvis wouldn't exist if it wasn't for Taygod.

She grew about poor with no private jet and made it to a billionaire from nothing. If she wants to go back to any year she can. She has a private jet and the money. She can do whatever the hell she wants with it.

Taylor made such a huge impact by simply existing. Her lyrics ewoke deeper meaning that some are just not getting. She's not being literally That's The Art of her genius. When she is bad she isn't actually bad she is just joking. She can do better but she doesn't because she doesn't have to. And even then it's literally none of your business. Taylor Swift could fart on all her Tracks and still outsell you flopped faves.

https://youtu.be/rr8IXF5EGaA?si=ttPjG-Kv7KEy7nNh

😂 I’ve been laughing at this response for 3 minutes straight because it’s so stupid lol.

you do know that I am a woman, right? So the “you just hate women” argument doesn’t hold any weight with me.

Also there is no way she is more influential than mj. It’s a fact that he is one of the most influential artists in the world and his music is known all over the world. Come back to me when Taylor could film a music video in a dangerous neighborhood because the gang leader is a huge fan of hers and protected her like mj did. Until then she isn’t even close to his level at any point in his career. No matter how much you say that she’s your lord and savior..

Edit: I think anon is trolling here. It’s hard to tell because swifties are actually like this but it looks like this one is joking.

#asks #anon trolling

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lizablee · 3 days

Text

Done Enough (Critical Role Fanfic) Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, Ashton wished his weapon had a blade.

The fleeting satisfaction of reducing branches to splinters had worn thin, leaving behind only the sturdiest trunks and the most resilient saplings that bounced off his hammer as if mocking his fury. His rage boiled beneath the surface.

With a shout filled with desperation and anger, he leveraged his full strength against a nearby tree. The tree shuddered under the impact but stood firm, immovable and indifferent. Ashton’s shoulders heaved, sweat trickling down his stony exterior,

“That’s an ironwood. Your hammer’s as good as useless.”

Chetney's voice cut through the tension, oddly calm amid the destruction. He stood a few feet away, idly whittling away at one of the half-pulped branches Ashton had discarded.

Ashton panted, his breaths coming in heavy, labored gasps. “Can’t sleep?” he managed to say between breaths.

“Not when there’s so much good wood being wasted. It was calling to me,” Chetney said wistfully. The branch in his hand was starting to vaguely humanoid. “And you’re loud as hell. I’m surprised half the camp isn’t awake.”

Ashton didn’t have it in him to feel regret. Chetney continued.

“I wonder what FCG would say if they were here,” he remarked.

“They chose to kill themself. They don’t get a say in how we grieve.” Ashton replied sharply.

“That’s not fair, Ashton.” Chetney said coldly. “They saved our lives.” Ashton tasted a pinch of shame, and tried to wash it down with anger.

Chetney sighed deeply and took a seat among the roots of the ironwood, his whittling becoming almost unnaturally quick. “You get to be angry, that’s fine. But don’t poison their memory. The rest of us have to grieve too.”

Ashton’s knees felt weak. He sat down, resting his hammer over his lap, and breathed deeply.

“If FCG were here,” he said tiredly, “they’d say something about us all coming together and supporting each other as a team. And they’d probably say they were happy. I bet they were happy, at the end. They got to do what they’ve always wanted to do.”

Chetney tutted. “Very edgy, Ashton. You act like they did this to you and not for you. Listen, I’m made of stronger stuff than the others, and even I’m feeling a bit fucked up by this. So I get it. But keep that bitterness between us, okay? Or between you and the hardwood.” he added, patting the scarred trunk of the tree. “The others aren’t doing very well. We need to keep an eye on Orym. He’s getting pretty dark.”

Ashton leveled a long look at Chetney. The gnome looked weary but resolute. “How are you doing?” Ashton asked gruffly.

Chetney smiled wryly. “I feel old. And I don’t normally feel old. It’s just... it’s tough when someone so young loses their life. Imagine how long FCG could have gone on for. They might have been practically immortal with that body, we don’t know. They could have outlived all of us.”

“They were hundreds of years old.”

“Maybe in body. But they’d been alive, what, like three years?”

“Give or take.”

“Three years old... That’s truly tragic. They never even got to have a childhood.” For a moment, Chetney had a hollow look that made him seem every bit as old as he claimed to be.

“They made me this horrible toolbox when they tried to—” Chetney made a sawblade motion, “—carve me up that first time. The craftsmanship was just appalling. You know what that looked like to me?”

“A waste of wood?”

“No. Potential . Nowhere to go but up.” Chetney looked up to the stars, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and sorrow. “They had only just figured out they could live, hadn’t even worked out what that meant yet. It just sucks.”

Ashton let the words wash over him and sank a little deeper into himself.

“Try not to think about it.” A soft voice sounded from the treeline. Orym dropped down, quiet as a shadow, wandering into the newly made clearing. “Their potential… what they could have been. It’ll drive you crazy.”

Chetney sighed deeply and returned to his whittling. Ashton turned to see Orym, who looked smaller than usual, haunted. His eyes were red, his cheeks puffy, and it was almost too raw for Ashton to bear; he suddenly felt like he was intruding just by being there. If FCG were here, he’d offer a hug.

“Are you okay?” he said, as gently as he could. Orym scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Right now, no. Eventually, yes…” Orym’s voice trembled. “But it doesn’t feel like it yet.” He took a shaky breath. “I know how this goes. So I just need to remember that it won’t feel like this forever. It’s hard to imagine... It’s just hard to... It’s hard.”

Ashton felt tears welling for the second time that evening. He scrambled mentally for that anger, that blessed distracting rage that could hold them at bay. Something else came to mind, unbidden, and he latched onto it. He moved towards Orym and pulled the halfling into a gentle hug.

Pain rippled through his form as Orym hugged back, sobbing. The hug was nice; the pain was grounding. Everything else dimmed a little for a moment. He could see FCG behind his closed eyelids, and for the first time that evening, he felt that the little Aeormaton would be proud of him in this moment.

Orym released Ashton earlier than he expected, probably not wanting to cause more pain. The absence of that sensation felt almost lonely. Orym sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

“You need to sleep.” Chetney remarked gently. “You both need to sleep. I’ll take watch.”

Orym stilled, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Back to back?” he stammered suddenly. Ashton stared at him blankly. “Sorry, it’s just something I saw—something Dorian—listen, do you want to sleep back to back? I think I’ll just sleep better if I’m not alone. It might help you, too?”

“Back to back,” Ashton echoed tentatively. “Yeah, I can do that. Just not too close.”

“Got it,” Orym said gratefully. He moved to pack up his bedroll.

“Enjoy your sleepover,” Chetney remarked offhandedly, returning to his whittling. He was gently carving a pair of mismatched lenses onto a tiny smooth face. Ashton let his eyes linger on the carving a moment longer before following Orym to camp.

It turned out going back to back did make it easier to sleep. And to Ashton’s great relief, he didn’t dream.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #cr3 #cr fcg #fcg #cr ashton #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #orym #cr orym #chetney pock o'pea #cr chetney

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 days

Text

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 6 (smexy times ahead)

To Kara’s surprise, steak dinner happens at Lena’s apartment. From how little Lena has shared so far, she’d expected to wait weeks or months to see where Lena lives. It’s not until she arrives that Kara realizes exactly why Lena is so willing to let Kara into her inner sanctum.

It’s completely void of personality.

Well, Kara allows, it could be that a lack of personality could be a personality in itself. And there are photos, but they all feature Lena and her crew. All smiling– all recent. Nothing to suggest Lena had a life before National City. She spies a punching bag in one corner, but the rest of the furniture is worn and basic, suggesting the place had come pre-furnished by a landlord who didn’t particularly care about aesthetics. It’s spartan and plain– forthright in a way that actually fits Lena. Still…

Kara wishes the space could have given her a better look at Lena’s inner life.

The kitchen, at least, is functional enough. Enough that Lena is able to season and sear her steaks to perfection, with some fresh asparagus sauteeing on a side burner. And she does it all with a smile, chatting with Kara as well as she had on the way home. A capable multitasker, Kara notes, though it’s less than surprising.

Lena seems incapable of being incapable at anything.

The meal is served up on non-descript plates– at least they’re ceramic and not paper, and Lena does lower the overhead lights to set the mood. Kara moans when the first bite of steak hits her tongue. Moist and savory and perfectly seasoned, it puts anything she herself could have made to shame. The asparagus is also perfectly softened without being mushy, retaining enough of its texture to allow for a bit of a crunch at the center.

“Are you sure the Army didn’t put you on the chow line? This is delicious!” Kara groans.

Lena smirks, taking a sip of her wine. “You think ‘chow’ tastes like this?” An arch eyebrow dispels that notion. “Nah. Not so much.”

“Well, wherever it comes from, color me amazed and impressed.”

Kara takes another large–too large– bite, and has to spend several quiet moments chewing her way through it. When she swallows– still too large– she tilts her head.

“Is there anything you’re not good at?”

Lena’s eyes warm with mirth, but takes a moment to consider.

“Jumping rope.” Lena shrugs. “I hate it. Can’t stand it.”

“But you can do it?”

Lena waves away the answer.

“Then it doesn’t count!”

Lena laughs. “Alright, alright… um. Okay. I can’t draw to save my life.”

It’s a surprisingly candid answer. “Really?”

Lena nods. “Any required art classes were passed on charm alone.”

Kara grins. Lena eyes her suspiciously.

“What?”

For a moment, they play a game of silent chicken as Kara waits for Lena to say the words, and Lean waits for Kara to confess what she already suspects. Finally, Lena caves.

“You’re an artist, aren’t you.”

Kara laughs, tickled by the suspicion at odds with the twinkle in Lena’s eye. “Maybe…” she draws out, unable to help the taunt. She relents when Lena’s eyebrow climbs dangerously close to her hairline. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I am. Kind of. At least, I was.”

“You were?”

“Not much opportunity to flex my brush skills on a cop’s schedule,” she deflects, unwilling to dull the mood with the somber reality. If Lena suspects the deeper reason, she gives no indication.

Instead, she tilts her head. “Well, I’d like to see some of your work, sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lena confirms. “If you’re willing to share, of course. No pressure.” She takes another sip of her wine. “I just know that anything you do would be amazing.”

Lena’s voice is low and throaty, and Kara senses the shift to a mood far more intimate than playful banter. “In that case, you would be right,” Kara confirms, leaning forward across the table. “Play your cards right, and I’ll prove it to you. Again.”

“Uh uh,” Lena returns, leaning to meet Kara midway across the table. She pecks a tantalizing kiss to Kara’s lips. “Tonight is my turn to go first.”

“Oooh,” Kara purrs. “I don’t mind the sound of that.”

She plays a light drumroll on Lena’s ass as she clears the dishes, which only receive a quick rinse before being forgotten in the sink. Lena’s attention turns to Kara, who feels the weight of her focus like a planar shift. The rest of the world ceases to exist, narrowing to the two of them alone.

They haven’t even reached the threshold of Lena’s bedroom before warm lips caress the skin of her neck. Her flesh prickles with goosebumps, a frisson of desire coursing through her. She wants this, and the flutter of nerves in her belly only heightens her anticipation. She’s never wanted anything– or anyone– as much as she wants this, wants Lena. She doesn’t know what Lena has in store for her, and doesn’t quite know how her body will react to her ministrations. If her current arousal is anything to go by, Kara suspects she might not survive what’s to come. And she’s perfectly fine with that.

Lena guides her with gentle hands to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Kara thinks she’ll sit on her lap, like the last time on her couch. But instead, Lena lays her back, leaning over her with a muscled arm holding her up.

“Tell me what you want,” Lena murmurs between slow languid kisses. Kara whimpers into her mouth, making Lena’s lips curl in a smile against hers. “That’s not an answer, love.”

For a moment, Kara struggles to think, but Lena doesn’t relent in her ministrations. It takes long minutes of nearly losing herself in the sensations before she manages to conjure her wish.

“Let’s go slow.” she murmurs.

Lena pauses immediately, but Kara keeps her from pulling away by cupping her cheek. Lena gazes into her eyes, studying her to understand the meaning behind her words. Then, slowly, a low fire sparks deep in her gaze.

“How slow, exactly,” she asks, low and silky.

Kara lifts her chin to kiss her. “As slow as possible.”

Nodding her understanding, Lena runs a velvet touch up under Kara’s shirt; slow enough to count each and every rib. “And where would you like to start?”

Breath hitching when Lena hits a sensitive spot just under Kara’s breast, Kara tries to blink her way to at least partial coherency.

“Do you have a vibrator?” she gasps.

Lena nods, nuzzling Kara’s ear. “Excellent idea, darling.”

Finally, Kara releases herself to the experience. Lena takes her time with her, going deliciously slow as she raises Kara’s shirt by inches, kissing every exposed bit skin on her way. Not just kissing. Licking, nibbling, suckling. She lingers on Kara’s breasts, brushing her thumbs over pebbled nipples as she diverts back to Kara’s lips.

Slowly but surely, Kara’s skin heats with pleasure. But when her breath starts to quicken, Lena draws herself away. Without Lena’s body heat against her, chill air washes over her, making her groan. She squeezes her eyes shut in frustration.

“Now, now,” Lena tsks. “I want you to watch.”

Kara’s eyes fly open, and she props herself up on her elbows to watch as Lena unbuttons the fly of her jeans. Her fingers dip beneath her waistband, and Kara’s breath goes ragged in her chest. But just as smoothly as they slide under, they slip back out, and Lena shimmies out of her pants.

She kicks them aside as soon as she steps out of them, and Kara is left to ogle smooth, tones legs. Lena may not match Kara for height, but her legs are long and packed with muscle. Kara’s mouth goes dry.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Kara mutters.

Lena saunters closer, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Well, hopefully he won’t be the one fucking tonight.”

She tilts Kara’s chin up. Kara lets her mouth gape, just enough for Lena to see the invitation and take it. Her tongue slides over Kara’s, then curls languorously up and along the roof of Kara’s mouth. She sucks against Kara’s upper lip as she withdraws, and Kara lists after her when she sits back on Kara’s knees.

“Do you want to see more?” Lena croons.

Kara swallows thickly. “All of it,” she croaks. “I want to see all of you.”

Lena smiles, pleased with her response. She grips the hem of her shirt with her fingertips, and slowly begins to pull it up, up, up over her abdomen, her breasts, and finally her head. Dark hair flows through the neck opening, swishing around Lena’s bare shoulders. When Lena’s fingers move to her bra, all higher function vacates Kara’s brain. The little strip tease that follows sends bolts of arousal down through Kara’s core, pooling between her legs. Soon, only Lena’s underwear remains.

When Lena twists to deposit her bra on the pile with the rest of her abandoned clothing, Kara catches sight of a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs, but it flashes out of sight and out of mind when Lena turns her attention back to her.

Thankfully, Lena makes quicker work of Kara’s own pants. Soon Kara is completely and enthusiastically nude, and Kara notes that Lena makes no mention of how wet she is. Kara’s glad for it– she suspects it will be her default state whenever Lena’s eyes take on this sort of glint.

She jumps when the first rumble of the vibrator tickles the inside of her thigh. She inhales through her teeth, and is answered by a palm pressing flatly against her labia and clit.

“Easy,” Lena coaxes. Her lips still smirk though. “Don’t want you getting worked up too soon, do we?”

The even pressure on her groin eases some of the edge that had been building within her, and she manages to take a breath that relieves any more. Even so, she knows that once Lena gets to work with the vibrator, she would be hard pressed to draw this out as long as she hoped she could.

Lena isn’t one to disappoint. She plays Kara like a fiddle, taking her tantalizingly close to edge after edge, before drawing her back down again and again. Her technique is expert– the vibrator seems to trace patterns everywhere but her clit. Her labia, her bikini line, even the bottom edge of her belly. Sometimes, when Kara lingers too long on one edge, a warm tongue soothes her clit, dulling the hungry ache.

“Hanging in there?” Lena checks in once Kara stops squirming.

“Barely,” Kara gasps, panting.

“You are so hot,” Lena purrs. “You’re doing so good.”

That alone almost almost pitches Kara over the precipice. She curls her fingers into the sheets, gritting her teeth. “Soon,” she warns.

“Just say the word, baby. I’ll get you there.”

Lena starts again, taking her time tracing more patterns around her ultimate destination. Slowly, inevitably, the pressure building to unprecedented heights. Kara’s never been attended to like this, never been read so plainly, so intuitively. It’s as though Lena has already memorized her body, chasing every sensitive part of her with expert precision until even the ebb aches as deliciously as the flow.

When Lena brings the vibrator closer to her clit than she has so far, Kara cracks.

“Now!” she gasps.

The vibrator has hardly touched her clit when Kara hurtles over. She can’t help the cry that escapes her, loud and long and desperate. She’s never made a sound like this before. She doesn’t realize Lena hasn’t moved the vibrator before she’s tipping into a second orgasm, then a third. The last lingers for long, long seconds and only then do the vibrations cease.

The whine that Kara issues is inhuman to her own ears, but Lena only chuckles as she climbs up to check on her.

“Still conscious?”

Kara grunts plaintively, as her fingers slowly release the sheets.

“That was– whoah!”

Lena’s exclamation is swallowed by Kara’s mouth on hers, lunging for a kiss before full conscious thought has even returned. Lena melts into it, letting the kiss deepen and last until Kara is the one to break it.

“Amazing,” she finishes Lena’s sentence for her. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

Lena’s cheeks flush under the praise. “And you,” she returns, “are a glutton for punishment. You lasted longer than I thought you would. Much longer.” She licks Kara’s upper lip so sensually, it almost makes Kara ask for another round. Almost. “Good girl.”

Kara sighs. “I don’t know if I can return the favor,” she confesses. It kills her to say it, but she barely feel her toes. Lena laughs. “I’m sorry…”

“Please,” Lena dismisses, still laughing. “That’s possibly the greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Kara blinks. “Ever?”

“Ever,” Lena confirms. She smiles, her eyes warm and full of comfort as she gazes down at Kara. “How about an early night then?”

A sigh escapes Kara. “That sounds…”

“Amazing?” Lena teases.

“Yeah,” Kara confirms contentedly. “Amazing.”

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #smexy times #Kara gets her turn #I hope you all like it #pls give me your thoughts #wanna make sure its worth continuing

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