#gigantic lives

[gongyussy]

the h in nhl stands for homoerotic

bonus intricate rituals:

[girlzoot]

You’re rooting for two people you probably see a dozen times a day, in a 7-Eleven, in line at the DMV. It’s the kind of movie that makes you realize that each person you glance at, interact with or ignore is an epic film or thrilling novel you’ll never get to experience. Makes you bless the grandeur of life and curse it at the same time for being too painfully narrow and brief. --Patton Oswalt/Silver Screen Fiend (discussing The Bicycle Thief)

[thenationofzaun]

Out of every fantastical thing in Arcane, the most unrealistic thing to me is Sevika not killing Caitlyn in 2 seconds

[chadleys]

›› pairing: astarion x reader

›› wordcount: 1.9k

›› genre: established relationship, smut, fluff.

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: got a request for pregnant tav and astarion taking place after the events of the game. this is that.

›› warnings: pregnant!reader, impreg, biting, mentions of blood drinking.

the grounds of the manse are still, quiet, as you examine yourself in the full-length mirror by the window. cloud cover has been rolling in all day; a storm is brewing. you wish it would just arrive already — you’ve always loved the rain. and any excuse to spend the afternoon in bed with your beloved while rainfall pounds at the windows is a good one to you.

you turn this way and that, examining the subtle swell of your belly. that’s not the only change you’ve noticed, of course; your hips and thighs are a shade larger, your breasts more plump, arms slightly too thick to fit into most of your tunics anymore.

at the moment a sheer, lacy negligee drapes from your shoulders, the bottom hem barely brushing the backs of your thighs.

just as you start to grimace and turn from the mirror, a knock at the door distracts you.

❝ is my love decent? ❞ astarion’s dulcet tones make your legs quake and a tenuous bout of gooseflesh prick your arms.

❝ as though you’d care either way, ❞ you purr. a moment ago, you were desperate to get away from the reflection in the mirror. now, you stand your ground, waiting for him to enter.

which he does, beautiful body sliding between door and frame as his crimson gaze finds you. he sighs, wistfully, and his bare feet make quiet shuffling noises along the hard wood floor as he approaches. ❝ what can i say other than that you’re right? you are utterly indecent and i have to be honest. i prefer you this way … ❞ those last words spoken right into your ear send a shiver down your spine, your lashes fluttering before flying open again.

this. this is why you so suddenly changed your mind about abandoning your post in front of the mirror. it’s been enchanted. ever since your return to baldur’s gate, both your and astarion’s fortunes have vastly improved. not only monetarily, though it’s certainly been fun to watch your coffers steadily rise and eventually overflow. but also your general quality of life; not only do you have a special midwife who’s been helping to check on the babe from time to time, making the periodic blood meals it requires more palatable for you, but every mirror in the house has been magicked to be able to show a vampire’s reflection.

❝ admiring yourself? ❞ astarion’s voice is unbearably low and intoxicating in your ear. you nearly fall into his arms, as one wraps itself around your waist, hand cupping your belly. ❝ … i know i am. ❞

your hands come to brace themselves on astarion’s forearms, running back and forth, though you’re comforting yourself more than you are him. ❝ just the opposite, ❞ you all but spit. ❝ i don’t look like myself anymore. these changes, they … they disgust me. ❞

suddenly, you’re being whirled, losing your footing. but astarion is there, hands on your biceps, drawing you close and pressing his mouth fiercely to yours.

you melt, fingers clutching at the collar of his tunic, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

just when you think he’s sucked all the air from your lungs, he presses you back and allows you to breathe again.

❝ i don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that again. and i do mean ever. ❞ gentle fingers swipe a lock of hair back from your forehead. ❝ you’re carrying my child; how could you possibly be disgusting? ❞

at a loss for words, you let him wheel you slowly back around to face the mirror. chin hooked over your shoulder, his scorching carmine gaze roves over you. slow hands part the lapels of your negligee, traipsing over all of your newest curves. ❝ look at this beautiful body ... ❞ his voice is low and hot, splashing molten waves over your entire body. ❝ and it's all mine. ❞

in one swift move, he sinks his teeth into your neck, making you moan and squirm against him. he doesn't drink from you anymore, not when you need all the energy you have to keep up with the life growing inside of you. but it's enough for him to continue to mark you, never letting your bites heal fully before he leaves more.

❝ astarion ... ❞ his name is a plea on your lips as you lean back into him, a solid pressure against your back.

❝ i can smell you, ❞ is his response, one hand traveling steadily downward, ❝ getting so wet for me. it happens more often now that you're pregnant, have you noticed? i certainly have. ❞

you want to tell him that it's not like the two of you weren't having sex every single night before. but now you're having sex every morning, too. and afternoon. and evening …

instead, you swallow thickly and swerve onto your other path of thinking. the path that focuses on the heat between your legs, thighs already sticking together as astarion slips a hand between them and cups your sex.

❝ please tell me you were wearing this — ❞ he plucks a piece of flimsy fabric from the negligee between his teeth. ❝ — for easy access? ❞

❝ of course. ❞ it hadn’t even crossed your mind.

astarion releases a shaky breath and steps away from you. you miss him immediately. ❝ get on the bed. ❞ normally he would throw you onto it, bthe two of you are taking every precaution for the baby.

climbing onto the soft bedspread of your giant four-poster bed, you allow astarion to come after you, crawling, hunting you as if you were his prey. the softest, sweetest prey he’d ever encounter.

legs spread, you welcome him between them, where his hardness presses — warm and insistent — against your wetness. but he still has his breeches on.

you hook a finger into the waist and tug, letting the fabric snap back against his alabaster skin. ❝ these, i think, need to come off. ❞

❝ why, i do believe you’re right. ❞ using his roguelike reflexes, the trousers are gone before you know it and his erection is jutting up, thick and hard, against his stomach. the sight is enough to make you salivate.

normally you’d put it in your mouth straight away, but pregnancy has made you overly sensitive to nausea and you really don’t want to chance ruining this lovely afternoon. so you pull him down by his tunic and kiss him again, your tongues slipping, dancing, enjoying themselves.

one of astarion’s hands has found itself down between your legs again, and he parts from you to whisper, ❝ you’re so wet … i think i could just … ❞

he trails off, and the head of his cock finds your entrance. gentle fingers splay your lips apart and he guides himself right into you, gliding easily along your slick walls. this is not the first time you’ve gotten wet so easily for him and certainly won’t be the last.

you pull your legs back, hooking your arms around your knees to hold yourself open for him. you’ve made this exact shape with your body many times before, and not always in a bed as comfortable as this one. but the extra weight you’ve put on makes holding the position a touch more difficult this time, and one of your legs slips from your grasp, knocking astarion hard in the side.

❝ gods, sorry! ❞ you reach for him, to make sure he’s okay, but the vampire catches your hand easily and pins it to the bedclothes, fingers twined with yours.

❝ never apologize to me, my love. you have no need to. you could ravish me, and still i would thank you. ❞

the thought makes your toes curl; being with astarion hasn’t always been easy, especially when you first met. but now … especially now that you’re pregnant, his desire to dote upon you has grown immeasurably. you want nothing more than to bask in the intensity of his gaze forevermore … and to give birth to his child, of course, but that is still months off.

❝ i still c-can’t believe, ❞ you stutter as he begins to thrust, ❝ you actually managed to get me pregnant. ❞

astarion covers your swollen belly with one of his perfect hands, and both of you watch your breasts sway as he fucks you. ❝ my dear, i was so full of your blood that night i’d be surprised if you don’t give birth to twins. ❞

the thought makes your head swim, your legs clench around his waist, drawing him in, wanting him so much deeper.

neither of you had strictly known that was how it worked; that the more blood a vampire had drunk, the more virile they’d become. not until conducting some research and investigation after you’d mysteriously missed your cycle that month.

needless to say, however, both of you were beyond thrilled.

❝ careful, ❞ you jest, with your legs still tight around him, urging him on. ❝ don’t want to poke the baby’s eye out. ❞

astarion chuckles, leaning down to lay a chiding bite to your chest, fully on display now that the opposites sides of your negligee had fallen completely open. ❝ i don’t claim to be an expert, but i don’t think that’s how it works, love. ❞

as if to prove his point, his hips start to piston in and out of you. harder, faster, astarion holds your gaze as he all but begins to plow you.

pregnancy has made you sensitive in ways you couldn’t believe were possible. the ridges of his fat cock dragging against your tight walls make the room go fuzzy, the bed canopy above you shifting and twinkling like a sky full of stars.

your hands are in his hair, tugging, drawing a hiss from him as he tosses his head back against your ministrations.

he growls, tight and low, that he wants to see you cum, wants to see you lose yourself for him. and you can’t help but obey.

your entire body seizes, toes curling in the sheets, and astarion fucks you through it with harsh, demanding thrusts. you’re so wet that his cock makes sticky sweet noises every time he enters you.

it takes him no time at all, after that, to finish for you. this time you pull your legs back as far as possible and tell him to cum as deep inside of you as he can, wishing to every god you believe in that he could get you pregnant again now, fuck another baby into you.

the one already inside of you is demanding enough, but you can’t help but marinate on astarion’s earlier words: what if you’re having twins? the thought fills you with inexplicable joy, heart pounding big and broad in your chest.

astarion sighs and slips to the side of you, sliding down to place his cheek against your belly. ❝ see? i don’t think he minds at all … ❞

❝ oh? and how do you know it’s a he? ❞ you can barely catch your breath to ask, fingers brushing hair back from astarion’s sweaty forehead.

❝ i don’t. but if you have a boy, you can be guaranteed i’ll be getting you pregnant again as fast as i can, so that he’ll have a sister to keep him in line. ❞

[taeetimee]

how i traverse the modern world

[chippedcupwrites]

Sansa Stark │Character Creation (in/sp)

HERE are screenshots of the whole set, if you wish to read the little details.

[skecherss]

Hi there do you think you can draw Cass in pajamas or just comfy clothes? She deserves it

I can, and she does :)

[chasing-clovers]

As a girl who was born and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and has been to Skate-O-Mania lots of times, I feel obligated to give my take on the lighting used in ST4.

At this point, everyone is more than familiar with this absolutely bizarre choice of lighting, character arrangement, and framing. All very symbolic… Yellow for Will, blue for Mike. Mike is preoccupied with Will and vice versa.

But if there was any doubt that this lighting was intentional, I’d like to inform y’all that the lighting at Skate-O-Mania is in fact NOT blue and yellow. It’s also not arranged the same as in the show. Proof? Bet.

Furthermore, the lighting on the walls is an alternating pattern of yellow, pink, and blue in ST4. Yellow for Will, pink for El, and blue for Mike. And this lighting isn’t just symbolic of our characters—it might also imply that El is smack in the middle of Byler’s relationship/drama. Take a look:

I think it’s absolutely bonkers that people don’t talk about this detail more. But once again, the question to be asked is what makes this analysis so wild, yet certain? Oh yeah, the ACTUAL lighting at the roller rink:

The cherry on top?

Let’s do a little compare and contrast.

Different names? Yep.

Different placement? Interesting…

Yellow, pink, and blue lights added in above the sign? OUTRAGEOUS.

Moral of the story? You aren’t delusional for believing in cinematography. These choices are all incredibly real, nuanced, and significant.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Came across a faux interview between Gene Roddenberry and Sarek (the actor who plays Sarek is playing Sarek) and I think Sarek & Amanda's mad scientist relationship is so goddamn interesting - TERRIBLE parents ("We felt Spock's torture of course but Amanda and I had a dream. One that justified even the risk of our precious son's life and sanity. What point is there in any life, surviving, unless it has meaning?") but my God...TALK about matching someone's freak. I also like the picture Sarek paints of Vulcan society, (which I've been rambling about recently) it's a very specific portrayal of Vulcans and how they view emotions which I don't think is carried over into much canon - wherein somebody emoting at someone else is seen as almost a hateful act.

[thorarms]

Idea for an art project that i will realistically probably never get round to but is still nice to think about:

A series of landscapes of asgard based on the 36 views of mt fuji by hokusai, with the palace abstracted into a golden mountain and the focus of every painting being the lives of the common people

[tales-of-magic-and-chaos]

The probability of Loki having a gigantic crush on Stephen upon meeting him is 100%.

[kurohaai]

Just looking back at my old arts and noticed two spectrum of green plant ladies I've drawn so far

both can demolish you to smithereens ❤️

[tinycoded360]

If I had money to spare this would be my splurge, I mainly want the skeleton man in the scuba gear and then put it in my living room or right by the entrance to great visitors or would be robbers 😜

[ranticore]

What is revelation's endgame here? I understand he is creating a cult and probably looking for vengeance but does he have enough people to defeat even a single somewhat big wyrm? Or IS he doing something else entirely with those ppl?

At the moment it's just going on a revenge march to some of its old colleagues (the wyrms who swore in court that ending the world was all rev's idea) to pick a fight. The issue is that it's population density that draws crawling beasts, so wyrms rely on their towns and congregations to act as bait in their metaphorical spiderwebs. A big battle between cultists and villagers would harm both wyrms, while drawing massive floods of crawling beasts so instead it's going to fight the wyrms directly. They are usually protected by their townsfolk but hey, there's a shiny new cult in town with their golden calf. If you have no qualms about using magic you can easily bind more people to your bidding. And then everyone can just go, march away.... leaving an injured wyrm dead or starving

I don't think there's a coldly defined endgame, I think it's a series of "we'll cross that bridge when we get there"s and choices made in passion. Revelation never thought it would leave its own tomb, let alone recover enough to go anywhere. So the first time it took a fight to a wyrm was an impulse, but it worked, so it happened again and again. The marching procession across the land began to grow into an army. I think the endgame is just "make them pay"

[tiny-librarian]

The grave of Anna Haining Bates, her husband Martin Van Buren Bates, and their infant son.

Known as the world's tallest married couple, both Anna and Martin were giants, standing close to eight feet tall each. Their son, known only as "Babe" on his marker, weighed almost 24 pounds and is the heaviest and longest newborn ever recorded.

[fleshengine]

Thesis: Jennifer Coates’ writing is important because it shows the oppression men experience in our society and how that by proxy affects trans women.

Antithesis: Jennifer Coates’ writing had nothing to do with being a man because she isn’t one, and instead is heavily laced with violently internalized transmisogyny. It is full of dangerous rhetoric that might keep more trans women in the closet and it should be treated as an infohazard.

Synthesis: Jennifer Coates’ writing is important because it is essentially an unfiltered view into what being a closeted trans woman is like. While a risky read, it is a close look at transmisogyny as a concept and if discussed more openly could help currently closeted trans women feel less alone. If reinterpreted with transfeminist analysis, it could perhaps be separated from its bastard child, “transandrophobia.”

I’ve heard that Coates regrets writing it, but I’ve yet to see proof of such. Wherever she is, I hope that she is accepted and loved and I hope she comes out someday. I saw a shocking amount of my experiences growing up in Coates’ writing but I was already on E for a second time when I read it. I think a lot of the reason I stopped E the first time and detransitioned to an enby was because of transmisogyny. I didn’t have words for it back then, but I dealt with a lot of similar shit. It was only after reimmersing myself in a queer community and feeling accepted (despite the transmisogyny I dealt with) did I start to experiment with gender again. I desperately hope Coates found something similar, somewhere she can be accepted for who she is. I wish I could meet her and tell her it’s alright. I wish I could convince her and my dad that just because you’re old doesn’t mean you can’t transition. I hope in a couple years “I’m a trans woman who refused to come out for years, and I came out recently” gets published somewhere.

I hope someday we can all look back at how far she came, and look forward at how far we all get to keep going.