#I wanted to be selfish today

[ieidolon]

i want a dracula adaptation that fully embraces how horny jonathan and mina are for each other. i need a good screenwriter with contacts and access to so much money to clock how, towards the end of the novel, she almost exclusively refers to him as "my husband" or "my Jonathan" with what i can only interpret as barely concealed and utterly primal levels of possessiveness and desire

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

some of u will not understand this and that’s okay but in my mind’s eye suguru is a selfish lover in a sweet way and satoru is a selfless lover in a sad way

[utilitycaster]

You know what's interesting to me? For all people keep claiming at every juncture that perhaps Bells Hells will come around on the gods and see the harm they do (which, as discussed extensively, is, half the time, simply not intervening) not only have they never done so, but also they never quite cross the line into saying the party should join the Ruby Vanguard or aid them - and indeed, they defend against it - so what does this achieve? It feels like they're asking for a story in which the party stands idly by, which isn't much of a story nor, if I may connect this briefly to the real world, a political stance anyone should be proud of.

That's honestly the frustration with the gods and the "what if the Vanguard has a point" conversations in-game. What do we do then? Do we allow the organization that will murder anyone for pretty much any reason that loosely ties into their goals run rampant? The group that (perhaps unwittingly, but then again, Otohan's blades had that poison) disrupted magic world-wide, and caused people who had the misfortune to live at nexus points to be teleported (most, as commoners, without means of return). While also fomenting worldwide unrest?

Those were the arguments before the trip to Ruidus; with the reveal of the Vanguard's goals to invade Exandria, the situation becomes even more dire. Do you let the Imperium take over the planet?

And do the arguments against the gods even hold up? If Ludinus is so angry at them for the Calamity, what does it say that he destroyed Western Wildemount's first post-Calamity society for entirely selfish means? (What does it say about the validity of vengeance as a motivator?) What does it say that Laudna told Imogen she could always just live in a cottage quietly without issue before the solstice even happened? (Would this still be true if the Imperium controls the world?) What does it say that when faced with a furious, grieving party and the daughter she keeps telling herself was her reason for all of this, Liliana can't provide an answer to the question of what the gods have done other than that their followers will retaliate...for, you know, the Vanguard's endless list of murders. (That is how the Vanguard and Imperium tend to think, huh? "How dare your face get in the way of my boot; how dare you hit me back when I strike you.") She can't even provide a positive answer - why is Predathos better - other than "I feel it", even though Imogen and Fearne know firsthand that Predathos can provide artificial feelings of elation. Given all the harm Ludinus has done in pursuit, why isn't the conclusion "the gods should have crashed Aeor in such a way that the tech was unrecoverable?"

Even as early as the first real discussion on what the party should do, the fandom always stopped short of saying "no, Imogen's right, they should join up with the people who killed half the party," it was always "no, she didn't really mean it, she just was trying to connect with her mother." Well, she's connected with her mother, and at this point the party doesn't even care about the gods particularly (their only divinely-connected party member having died to prevent the Vanguard from killing all of them). So they will stop the Vanguard; as Ashton says, the means are unforgiveable. As Laudna says, it's not safe to bet on Predathos's apathy. As Imogen says, she's done running; the voice that she used to think of as a lifeline belongs to someone she doesn't trust. So I guess my question is: if they're stopping the people who are trying to kill the gods (and defense of the gods isn't remotely their personal motivation)...do you think the next phase of the campaign is Bells Hells personally killing the gods? Reconstructing the Aeor tech and hoping none of their allies notice? How does this end? Does your ideology ever get enacted? Or is this entirely moot and pointless and the story ends with Bells Hells saying "well, I'm really glad we stopped the people who [insert list of Vanguard atrocities from above]; none of us follow the gods or plan to, but honestly, the status quo we return to is preferable to whatever nightmare Ludinus had concocted in his violent quest for power and revenge"?

[skibasyndrome]

wilmon + “hold still, babygirl” 🎀

Martina.................... bless. I absolutely CANNOT thank you enough for sending in that prompt!!! ANYWAYS, some of you know I am newly obsessed with the idea of a gender-questioning or nb or transfem Wille so... hope you guys like transfem Wille as much as I love her

also, cw: kinda nsfw, gender affirmation is one hell of a drug, getting teary-eyed during sex, but in a good way I promise <3

“Hold still, babygirl...,” Simon's voice is muffled against the side of Wille's neck, but clear enough for her to hear it. Wille gasps, tightening the grip of her fingers in Simon's curls, stilling her writhing thighs, letting Simon grab them again. She's barely holding on as is, her hold on the marble countertop Simon just fucking lifted her onto weakening every time Simon digs his fingers into her soft flesh, but the way he says it, the softness, the affection, the let me take care of you hidden between the lines is sending her mind into overdrive. Simon slides his hands up her body, along the outside of her thighs, her hips, her waist, smoothing over the soft fabric of her new sundress so reverently, so intentionally that it sends a pang to her chest. This is it, she thinks, this is fucking it, this feels so right she wants to cry on the spot. "So beautiful," Simon tells her, words breaking out of him like he's not in control, like he like has no choice but to vocalize his adoration. No need, Wille thinks, because she can feel it, has felt it all afternoon, in every casual touch and every single glance. "So, so beautiful," he adds, even breathier now, and Wille bites back a moan when he emphasizes the words by grabbing a handful of her ass. It's a lot, it's almost too much, they're not even naked yet and it's so so much. But Simon isn't done with her, he's not leaving any room for doubt and Wille doesn't thinks she's ever felt so much fucking love at once. Simon mouths down her neck, gives her collarbone a gentle nibble, presses a kiss against the top of her sternum, then stops for a moment, gives Wille the chance to tell him where she wants him and that alone forces another broken gasp out of her. She just nods frantically, pushing Simon's head closer, making sure his lips don't leave her skin. Simon slips the sleeve of her dress, the strap of her bra down her shoulder, mouths further down her chest and Wille is going to die. This shouldn't feel real, she doesn't dare to look down, afraid that she'd wake up from a dream if she's not careful, but she can see it behind in her mind's eye, the visual accompanying the sensation, Simon kissing and licking over her skin, shoving the lace of her bralette out of the way with his face to get to her nipple. Just as she thinks the arm propped up behind her, holding her up, is going to give in, she feels Simon snake his arm around her middle, feels him dig the tips of his fingers into her ribs (a reminder, this is real). Simon uses the other arm around her ass, maneuvers her body further towards the edge and Wille can feel him, fuck, she can feel him. With her skirt slipping up over her thighs, bunching up around her hips, Simon is making space for himself between her legs. She can feel him, pressing against her hot and firm and so, so enticing, and she feels him all over her, so there, and holding her so tightly, with so much fucking care that, despite herself, she feels her eyes starting to burn. She presses them shut more tightly, wraps her legs around Simon's hips, crosses her ankles and pushes him closer, holds him so close she'd be scared of hurting him if it wasn't for him pulling her even closer him with a grunt. "I've got you, sweetheart," he says, and Wille whines when Simon lets go of her nipple, tries to make him stay there for just a little bit longer, she needs him there, doesn't he see? But Simon is unrelenting, squeezes her middle, and, Wille cranes her neck to lean into the touch, brushes his hand through Wille's hair and tucks a strand behind her ear. Fuck. She swallows against the lump in her throat. "I've got you, princess," Simon breathes against her mouth, taking all the air out of her lungs. When their lips finally meet, Wille can taste the salt of her tears and desperately wraps her arms around Simon's back, like he could disappear any second.

....... I'm not going to apologize. Just know I LOVE HER and I love the way Simon loves her and I haven't felt this attached to a version of them in quite a while... pls be kind to her, she's finding herself 😭😭😭 TYSM MARTINA ILY 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you 5(+) more

[huellitaa]

i giggle so hard whenever i see one of my posts on someone else's blog like omg..... i'm actually liked by people..... blushing rn

[averlym]

the one who pulls the strings (click for better resolution!)

from adamandi by @melliotwrites,, consider this my pitch to get you all to watch it

[filloas-e-blini]

All Americans acting like this is just

The Worst™

and the end of the world and "we all lost TODAY" and "I'm so shaken I gotta substance abuse and forget about the world pray for us" and "this SURE is stress awareness week amiright" while. Palestinian people have been living in literal hell not just for a whole year of continuous bombing, kidnapping and torture. But 76 years in a row. And not even to mention the rest of the horrors worldwide caused and funded by USA. Are you out of your mind

[jrueships]

r u the grew up poor never being able to buy the little things in life u always wanted as a kid so now u buy whatever little thing u want as an adult and struggle with saving for the big mandatory thing,

or the grew up poor never being able to buy the little things in life u always wanted as a kid so now u just never buy anything small bcs u had to learn to live without it and constantly try to save for the next big thing in 500 yrs

[brown-little-robin]

I need to sleep for 70 hours and then maybe I'll feel not evil again

[a-little-bit-poss]

.

[littlefankingdom]

Me: People who hated Jason Todd did so because he wasn't Dick Grayson, so they were people who were attached to Dick and have spent years reading his adventures as Robin. That means they were probably older teenagers at least, but probably adults. The DC writers themselves, who are adults, hated Jason and wanted him to die, because of their love for Dick. Therefor, people who liked Jason the most were young people, of the same age as him. He could have been their friend, they saw themselves in him. In posts online where people ask why some voted for Jason to die, young people (at the time) explain how they didn't think it was possible and cried afterward, which really show their ages. We can also bet that the people who wrote to DC about how sad they were that Jason died and how much they cried are also young, teenagers or maybe younger. Jason was them, he was their age and their friend, their hero. But the older generations didn't care about what Jason represented to these children, didn't care about the pain Jason's death would bring. Their nostalgia had become hate, it blinded them. The only thing that mattered was that Jason needed to be gone. It was never going to bring back Dick, which is reinforced by him refusing to come back as Robin when Tim asked him after Jason's death, nothing could do that. But they refused to accept it. Poll clerk: Miss, this is a polling station for the French legislative elections... Me: And yet, older folks still let nostalgia blind them to hate and vote against progress, changes that are inevitable, harming in the process the younger generations and their future, even leading some to their death. Poll clerk: Miss, I must ask you to leave.

[boringwomanwithabook]

Both my hands are reaching for you, sweety. If you ever need something I will get to you

beacons being lit right now for a hug

[gremzon]

I might have OCD actually

[ask-richard-jackdaw]

Richard,

I hope you don't mind, but I happened upon you deep in thought in the castle courtyard and...well, the sight took my breath away.

I used a Muggle contraption (I believe they call it a camera) to capture these still images. You look almost corporeal...

E 🖤

E, my dear,

I am most intrigued by this Muggle contraption, and even more so — by how well you were able to capture me and my heart with it. And what a coincidence! I must admit, I had no idea that anybody was there at the time as I was most likely preoccupied with matters regarding me... Well, you said it yourself, looking corporal. If you have the time, allow me to explain.

You see, for the past two weeks I have been experimenting with something known as ancient magic. I cannot really see it but I can feel it when I am somewhere near the source, and I can really feel it if I touch it. If I spend plenty of time doing just that and focusing on being corporal — I seem to become so! Well, whatever part of me is surrounded by magic anyway.

That photo you took — I believe it was the first time that I have attempted to fully step into the stream of magic a day or two ago. The reason I needed to conduct some experiments first is rather serious as well: when the magic starts sipping away (and it never holds for longer than one day) I... Well, I am yet to find a way to make the transition back to my ghostly form less painful. As much as I was craving to feel, I forgot that pain is an integral part of life as well.

Needless to say that as fun as being able to be me again was, by the time I walked all the way back to the castle in my human form (and I got lost so many times since I could not just fly above the land toward the castle, oops) I was so tired that I just fell asleep on a bench somewhere near that area your camera captured me. When I woke up — I was a ghost again. At the very least, whatever pain I might have gone through that night, I slept through it.

I do hope that you are doing well, my darling. The sight of me should not be taking your breath away but instead making your heart beat and your soul soar. I hope you continue working on those still images because I did not get a chance to look at myself in the mirror that night. You are my only witness and I am honoured to have you share that special moment with me.

Thinking of you, always,

Richard Jackdaw

P. S. May I hope that someday I would be granted permission to call you by your proper name, my lady E?

[candyriku]

Working on my ice skating AU, here's a lil preview (this is like the start of chapter 2). I know it's sacrilege to have Sora and Riku be estranged in any way, but in this AU they ARE, okay. I felt like writing about them being messy and emotionally damaged people so here is Riku being messy (and plenty of Sora being messy will follow) :-)

“Are you serious?” Riku demands, his voice coming across more aggressively than he means it. “Skate with him?”

Aqua looks from Riku to Sora and frowns. “Do you know him? Is there some kind of issue?”

Does he know Sora? Of course he does. They were childhood friends, then something more, then nothing at all. But he can’t tell Aqua that, nor does he want to relive the last time he saw Sora, his trembling hands in his hair, their lips brushing together before Sora made a hasty retreat and disappeared from his life entirely. 

Sora’s eyes haven’t left his shoes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…” he ventures, and somehow this makes Riku feel even worse. Sora is giving him an out, and he can't stand it. He wants to hate Sora for it, but it feels more and more like he hates himself. He should have never kissed Sora in the first place. He deserves the two years of silence he’s endured ever since.

“Look, Riku, I’ll say it one last time in case it’s not getting through that thick skull of yours. Either skate pairs, ice dance - which also requires a partner, or drop the sport entirely. If you want to do anything outside of those three options, I won’t coach you. And although it’s your decision, if you keep skating solo, I hope you know you're digging your own grave.”

“Fine,” Riku snaps, looking away from Sora. “I’ll try skating with him. But we both know he’ll only slow me down. This will end my career and yours.” He’s being unfair and he knows it, but the idea of Aqua deciding his future for him feels unbearable. Shouldn’t it be up to him? Yes, he’s injured, but injuries heal. He shouldn’t have to adjust his entire life because of one tiny stress fracture. 

“Sora won’t slow you down. He’s just as skilled as you are.” Aqua says firmly, crossing her arms.

Riku wants to argue, but he’s spent most of his life in the same rink as Sora and knows it’s true. Still, skating solo is something Riku doesn’t want taken from him. It’s his escape, his time for himself, his form of self-expression. Having another person - even if it’s Sora - encroach on that feels wrong. Figure skating is a sport about the performer and the performer alone. It’s his own personal artform. To share it is to lose his identity as a skater altogether. 

“I don’t skate with social media showboats” he spits. This, too, is unfair, and he only knows of Sora’s popularity online because he’s pathetically kept up with him after Sora moved away, forever watching videos of him skate with a mixture of longing and nausea. Sora skates expressively, beautifully, in a way Riku himself can’t quite replicate, because Sora has always been the better of the two of them when it comes to self-expression. Riku is just a miserable person pretending to be something he’s not. At least Sora is authentically himself all the time, even online. 

Everything in Riku’s brain tells him to stop making such a scene and just accept this new paradigm. But his heart aches with loss - loss of his solo career, loss of his dignity, loss of his autonomy, loss of this world he’s built for himself where he can pretend he never fell disastrously in love with his childhood best friend. He freezes when he sees the expression on Sora’s face. 

“I just post for fun,” Sora says softly, biting his lip. “I’ll stop posting while we're training, if that'll make you feel-”

“It’s fine,” Riku says. “Do what you want. It doesn’t concern me.”

[creed-of-cats]

The amount of doomerism I've heard from fellow usamericn zoomers/millennials around me is starting to drive me fucking insane.

"We're all gonna die, it's hopeless, it's not worth doing anything. This is our penance as human beings/[insert other guilty identity]"

You know who you guys fucking sound like? Fucking Evangelicals.

Yeah it's fucking scary and big, I'm not trying to say it isn't. But what the fuck is your plan??? Sitting down and dying?? Are you really telling me that this world is not worth you even fucking trying?? That you're just gonna party it out until your miscellaneous end game apocalypse arrives?

This isn't the rapture. The apocalypse is a false concept. People have been living through "apocalypses" every day of their fucking lives for all of human history, especially during the past 400 years. Get up and stop the suicidal idealization of your own tragic death. Our lives in the first world are built off suffering. To lay down and say we don't have any power is to reject the duty we have as beneficiaries of that suffering.

If you are so convinced you're going to die young then die trying instead of baring your fucking throat.