#also very domestic

[bluegiragi]

brief.

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[rubikor]

would you hold my face softly and tell me it will be alright?

[khaopybara]

❝Tomorrow is my birthday.❞

FIRST KANAPHAN as KANT PATTANAWAT and KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as BISON episode 7 of THE HEART KILLERS

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[natalievoncatte]

Even in the vast softness of Caitlyn’s bed

(their bed)

Vi felt the jolt. It was either that or the soft, pained exhalation that woke her, but it didn’t really matter. She snapped awake with the sudden alertness she’d been taught by Vander and had honed in Stillwater. Even though she came around in an instant, she still expected to feel a cold concrete floor beneath her aching side and smell the charnel stink of sweat, desperation, and blood. Waking up to soft linens and the clean, fresh smell of sheets washed in lavender water, and *Cait* felt fresh and new every time.

“…no…” Cait mewled. “…no… stop… Jinx… Cupcake! Cupcake she calls me-“

Vi hesitated, unsure whether to wake her. She’d seen plenty of people cry out in their sleep and knew that eight times in ten it was better to let them ride it out instead of waking them in the middle of something that might make them lash out or hurt themselves.

When Cait let out a blood-curdling scream, Vi lept wxross the bed and pressed a hand to her cheek, finding a cold sweat sheening her skin.

“Cait, wake up.”

Caitlyn’s eyes (*eye*, a bitter voice added) snapped open and she looked around, jerking up from the bed, her chest heaving as she drew in ragged, pained breaths.

Vi pulled her into an embrace, wrapping Caitlyn up in her arms and bending her body as much as she could to form a shield around her while Caitlyn desperately hugged her back and buried her face in Vi’s neck.

Sometimes they said more this way than they did by talking. Vi sat up and gently rubbed the back of Cait’s neck with her fingertips and pressed light kisses to the crown of her head, for no other reason than she loved her and she was free to show it.

Finally Cait said, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Cait didn’t answer, instead resting her head on Vi’s shoulder while her finger aimlessly traced the tattoo on Vi’s arm, sort of half-humming on exhalation. Vi had learned that Cait wasn’t being rude when she didn’t answer her and that these little things she did to soothe herself were just as important. That Vi could savor Cait’s touches forever was incidental. Vi hadn’t touched her enough and would make up for it for the rest of her life.

“Do you remember the… the tea party.”

Vi swallowed hard. That night had been one of the most painful of her life, when all her sins had marched out of the darkness to revenge themselves on her tenfold. It was the terror she felt when she saw Cait’s eyes that shattered her, but the worst, the worst…

(I paid your girlfriend a visit…)

It hurt to even summon the thought, like touching the edges of a barely healed wound, feeling the scab lift and pull at the raw flesh beneath.

For a moment Vi knew that Jinx was going to lift that lid and Caitlyn’s severed rotting head would be sitting there staring at her with blank eyes and she cringed in horror and fear, a shiver ripping through her.

Cait knew; Vi didn’t have to say yes.

“Did you ever wonder how she knew you called me cupcake?”

Vi shook her head. “I thought she must have heard me. On the bridge maybe or…”

“She might have, but she delighted in making me tell her. I was helpless, terrified. She spent hours hurting me, but she kept saying she wouldn’t kill me because she was waiting for you. She said you’d do it.”

“Did you believe her?”

“No, never.”

Vi let out a long, slow sigh in relief.

“I hurt you. I hit you, but you would never hurt me.”

“We talked about that, Cait.”

“I know.”

There was a brief silence in the dark. First light was beginning to peek through the curtains and soon it would be time to get up. Most nights Vi hated waking now. She wanted nothing more than to spend then rest of her life in soft sunlit moments with Cait, making love under the warming sunlight as often as not.

Cait’s hand worked between them and traced over the scar on Vi’s belly, in the same spot where Cait’s rifle butt had smashed the air from her lungs and left her begging, sent her spiraling into a booze-fueled nightmare of longing where the pain of a fist to her face was the only thing that kept her awake long enough to keep looking for someone to kill her in the ring before the drinking did.

They held each other a little tighter.

“No one is going to get you now,” Vi promised.

“You’re not my keeper, Vi. You mean more to me than what you can do for me.”

“I meant you can hold your own. You took me out, remember? Do you know how many people can say that?”

“You let me win because I’m me.”

Vi shook her head. “Not until I was already face up on the ground. You took down Ambessa.”

“I had help.”

“You’ll have help if someone comes at you again. My help.”

“I told you, Vi, you…”

“No. It’s not because I owe you something, it’s because I love you.”

Vi hadn’t said the words yet, despite all this time, but it shocked neither of them.

“We protect each other, then.”

Vi nodded in agreement. She could see Cait’s eye growing lidded and the tension slit out of her body as Vi lay down with her. She was asleep in a few minutes, snoring lightly against Vi’s neck.

Vi vowed to stay awake, Cait was too soft.

[fox-guardian]

I can't get over that last scene from this episode. that long pause where sam was quietly grabbing a drink and you could barely hear celia talking to jack as she put him to bed in the other room. nothing was happening in that moment that needed to be recorded. no terrible events no big revelations. just sam and celia quietly going about their lives, sharing a domestic moment.

as something watched and listened. and we don't know why it's listening.

[slutforpringles]

via: Daniel Ricciardo from The Dan Diaries: I'm asking the questions … (Japanese GP 2017 review)

[snowdrop-yoongi]

my favorite thing about baek hyun-woo's portrayal is that he isn't even a loser. he's an incredibly cool and competent lawyer who also happens to act like a loser

[jellyskink]

Ford seems more scared of everyone then anything in your au but I’m curious has he ever lashed out at another human?

Humans occasionally come in to clean the Fearamid, in the rare times between parties. Ford doesn't like other humans intruding and insists on monitoring them. He takes notes and gets rather aggressive if they do something he doesn't like

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

There's nothing he can't do. Yet.

(Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll!)

[lazycranberrydoodles]

read right to left :)

recently rewatched the way of the househusband and i thought this scene was very them lmao. this is traced over the original manga by kousuke oono. follow for more crossover nonsense!

[homeofhousechickens]

Chickens likely domesticated themselves the same way wolves did which is basically by hanging around our settlements and eating our refuse.

Living with chickens in this sort of way was likely happening way before the estimated times of 8,000- 10,000 years ago. The relationship was likely already long established it was just during that time some chickens started developing smaller/weaker adrenal glands which caused them to become much easier to raise and handle which eventually lead to the domesticated chicken we know of today (and how that happened so suddenly is a completely different but very interesting topic)

Also due to this you could argue that there isn't any true wild red jungle fowl left untouched and uninfluenced by humans anymore. Not only due to constant cross breeding with domestic chickens but because red jungle fowl are still doing what their ancestors did in their current range, if there is a town or village nearby the bravest junglefowl will still choose to intermingle with the village and eat the refuse, agricultural byproducts, and waste. People will still catch and care for these "wild" birds like their ancestors did. This isn't to say we shouldn't try our best to preserve the wild red jungle fowls wild genetics, their should be populations left to be in their natural environment but it's likely they are not truly same wild birds they once were thousands of years ago and honestly that's OK because thats how its been for thousands of years.

[lynn-tged-posting]

"i get to thinkin' 'bout your sun-kissed face / and a quiet place i could give you all my time"

textless :3

based on a self-indulgent headcanon that lloyd laughs like a goofball and very easily at terrible jokes. he snorts and giggles and wheezes, his nose wrinkles and his grin is all sorts of lopsided. he has to hold himself from falling over, and crinkles form underneath his eyes, and he's laughing so so loudly and javier thinks it's the cutest look in the world. lloyd really should laugh more often, take it easy more often. it suits him.

[khaopybara]

❝I'm being led on by an oblivious straight girl.❞

KATO SHIHO as AYAKA and MORI KANNA as HIROKO episode 1 of AYAKA IS IN LOVE WITH HIROKO

[nothingbutnowhere]

Your favorite blankets are very fluffy and very soft with your favorite cartoon characters on them. Simon, however, thinks he's too good for fluffy blankets and shuns them in favor of no blankets. Which is absolutely absurd!

So one of your favorite pastimes is ambushing him with the blankets. 'Sneaking' up to him with the corners of a blanket in your hands then wrapping your arms around him, or pouncing on him while he lays on the bed or couch. 

Johnny on the other hand is a rational human being who likes soft, fluffy blankets and doesn't hesitate to wrap you both up on chilly days. 

Sometimes, when Simon is grumpy you both sabotage his mood with soft, warm comfort. Closing in on either side of him on the couch while he waits patiently for movie night is one of the great traditions.

You and Johnny make a devious team with many successful captures, completing the mission objective of cuddles. And related activities.

Simon thinks he tolerates it for your amusement, but deep down he knows he wants it too. He wants to love and be loved, despite everything that's been thrown at him, because it turns out he's not completely rotted away inside. There's two people he loves and he's lucky enough that they love him back. They're so patient and kind, even when he pushes them away they give him space when he needs it, but they never truly leave. Because they need him too. His care and protection. Him in their bed. His bites and bruises and kisses and licks. His perfect darlings need him. And that's worth sticking around for.

More Simon and Johnny

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

[anabetel35]

Queerplatonic jayvik is so important to me btw. Bestest reading of their relationship I think.