#were they at least free in that way

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

I still don’t know what my exact take on angels egg is yet but I think I like it so far mainly because of the comfort of some dude off the shits exploring the concept of hoping and waiting for something in a way that isn’t just rewarded exactly how the character wants but yet it is rewarded nonetheless like it’s not just nihilism trying to be avant garde once again it’s just like actually this is the real perhaps tragic beauty of hope and how our relationship to truth works and whatever the fuck. Or however you need to interpret it have a nice day

[paintedcrows]

Had a silly thought about hypothetical cat curse shenanigans with @dark-lord-of-awesomeness's How to Cat Burglar a Family ;)

Bonus doodle!!

[citrusai]

taash said "they were doing it" and people ran with the interpretation of an npc that doesn't know solas or the history of the elvhenan even when bellara interjected and said, no, that's not right. that's not how it was for the elvhenan. they formed bonds before they had physical bodies. and people ran to doompost or create weird anti-solavellan shit even though mythal & solas refer to each other as old friends and when she releases him there is no tenderness or love in it. it is the act of unchaining a dog from his post, the stepping down of a general. but to each their own ig.

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[inkskinned]

one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

[null-doesnothing]

if I said that I think Amanda was a near equally horrible parent to Spock as Sarek was but just in a different way, would I get pelted with rocks or what

[jakeperalta]

the thing with swifties using song lyrics to justify their hatred of taylor's exes is that sometimes their lyrical analysis is just bafflingly wrong. I am sorry but how are people with clear investment in and knowledge of her relationship lore saying "loml" was written about joe. please..

[hauntedorpheum]

you know i have no stakes on this. i'm a casual viewer at best. if i don't like this i just don't pay. but learning that patreon is still up, that they didn't get any notice in advance of any these changes, and they don't even get free access to the "normal" content, but only 40% off (with normal viewers getting 30% off, so basically just 10% discount), like if someone has the right to complain right now is the patreons who have actually been paying for their content this entire time

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience – Epilogue (Part 11.2)

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 11th snippet / epilogue, part 2. Adar and Celebrimbor consummate their marriage, aka, make love to one another.

Here be smut! This is at least M rated people. Please mind the rating!

This is it, the Good Stuff(TM)! Again, this is smut, but there is also a lot of fluff and sappiness mixed in here. It's also the final bit for the 'main story' of this AU – though, who knows, maybe I’ll pick it up again for some interludes or some glimpses into everyday married life for those two in the future, though likely at a much slower pace than this one. Thank you, again, to everyone who has joined me on this journey. I appreciate all of you and your support means the world to me. (And also, hopefully, I’ll see you guys in the notes for any future fics of those two I might write. Because I still have a couple ideas and WIPs to work on.) Enjoy, and once again, Thank You! <3 <3 <3

Once they had separated again, Adar appeared much more confident. He used only his right hand as he reached down, grabbed the hem of his tunic, and then began to pull it over his head.

As his long hair began to tangle in the garment, Celebrimbor reached forward and helped him out of it. Like his own tunic and Adar’s armor, they let it drop to the ground, forgotten.

The uruk’s chest was littered with scars as well; burn marks and the remains of old wounds that the elf could not identify. Perhaps, Adar would be willing to tell him about each of them one day.

"You are beautiful," escaped the smith without his permission, but he couldn’t regret the words. Even as Adar stared incredulously at him. "I mean it. I look at you and see beauty."

Celebrimbor wanted to make himself clear. "Maybe not in the typical elven way, but I can see you have survived great strain and terrible hardship. I do not mind the scars. They are a part of you, and I love you."

He knew he was being awfully emotional about all this, but- he had to speak these words. He didn’t want to leave any doubt about what he felt for the other, or how he saw him.

The uruk closed his arms around the elf and brought the two of them together in another embrace. He kissed Celebrimbor’s temple, his cheek, his jaw, and then whispered against his lips. "It has been a very long time since I have been called ‘beautiful‘. And even longer, still, since I believed it. But I believe you."

A pause, a breath. "How have I gotten so lucky? The most decent, the most kindhearted of all elves, and I get to call you my own. You, the one who was willing to see me and my children as more than just Morgoth’s creations."

"You are more than Morgoth’s creation," Celebrimbor said with conviction. "And if you have gotten lucky, so have I."

He dared Adar to disagree with his words by frowning just the slightest bit, until the uruk laughed and pulled him close again. They kissed once more. As Adar let his hands roam, so did Celebrimbor.

Adar’s body certainly was not like an elf’s, but this was not a detriment in the smith’s opinion. He enjoyed letting his hands move over the scars, felt shapes beneath his fingertips whose textures felt new and unique and exciting to him.

Likewise, his husband seemed unable to let his own hands rest either; they moved over the expanse of Celebrimbor’s back and between his shoulder blades, to his arms, up to his neck and then down to his pecs, which the uruk squeezed. The elf gasped into their kiss as a result, and when Adar made to draw back, he caught the uruk's fingers to press them onto his chest again and moaned into the other’s mouth at the resulting pressure.

They soon shed the rest of their clothing, stepping out of their shoes and boots as well as their breeches. Adar’s mouth wandered from Celebrimbor’s mouth to his jaw, his ear, and then his neck.

He was soft with his kisses, mindful of the bruising, until the elf drew his head closer with his hand and groaned as the other sucked his own bruise into the hollow of his throat. 

Celebrimbor didn’t care in the least whether or not someone else would see it, come morning.

Moving against one another sent sparks through the elf’s body now that they were completely bare, and he felt heat rise up his body when he felt how aroused Adar was already.

The uruk grabbed his behind and drew them against each other fully. Both groaned at the contact.

"Celebrimbor-" Adar began. He already sounded breathless.

"Tyelpe," the smith replied, quickly, before Adar could finish his sentence. At the other’s questioning look, Celebrimbor drew him forward and kissed him, before he repeated. "Call me Tyelpe. It’s short for-"

"Telperinquar," Adar finished. He sounded reverent as he said it. Celebrimbor felt himself shiver at the sound of his name on Adar’s tongue. He nodded to confirm it.

"...Tyelpe," Adar repeated the name as if tasting it. In turn, Celebrimbor moved forward as if to lick it out of his mouth. The kiss left them both breathless and flushed.

"...let us move over to your bed," the uruk suggested, quietly, and the elf let himself be walked over without hesitation. Instead, he tried to catch Adar’s lips again. It was like he had gotten addicted to them – their warmth, their softness, the pressure. He couldn’t stop seeking them out.

The uruk was careful as he helped his husband lay down and then moved on top of him. He caught Celebrimbor’s eye as he kept himself suspended above the elf, and only laid down when Celebrimbor stretched out his arms and beckoned him to do so.

Soon, they were moving against one other, rubbing skin against skin as they kissed, hands restless on each other’s bodies.

"What do you want to do?" Adar asked, once they managed to break their kiss for a moment. A fine strand of spit hung between their mouths and neither of them was willing to move far away from the other.

"Whatever you want to do," Celebrimbor replied. To make himself perfectly clear, he untangled his legs from Adar’s and loosely wrapped them around the uruk’s hips, who groaned deeply and thrust down against the elf in response. "If you’d let me, I’d want all of you."

His hips moved up into Adar’s thrusts all of their own. Both of them moaned at the feeling of them sliding against one another.

They could barely control themselves, and Adar eventually had to use his hand to grab Celebrimbor’s hip and pin it to the bed – though gently – so they would not finish too soon.

"Do you have any oil?" He sounded hopeful, even if he looked a bit skeptical.

His expression changed to one of surprise when Celebrimbor reached across and over the side of the bed, only to produce a small bottle, which he pressed into Adar’s hand. The smith felt rather proud of himself in that moment.

The uruk raised his eyebrows. "Do you always happen to have some spare oil nearby, or…" He suddenly narrowed his eyes, though it was clearly playful. "Did you hope this would happen?"

The elf grew just the slightest bit sheepish and fluttered his eyelashes at the uruk. "What can I say? If the the last two days have taught me anything, it is to always be prepared – and not let anything go to waste by holding back."

Adar looked at Celebrimbor with wide eyes for a moment, and then he smirked and shook his head, before he gave his husband another peck on the lips. "My dear, you are full of surprises. I hadn’t expected that you’d be quite so bold in this."

A pause. "I think I like it."

The uruk was careful as he prepared his husband; he took the time to warm the oil, helped Celebrimbor place a pillow underneath his hips and placed one of the smith’s legs over his shoulder. Before he touched the elf, he kissed the side of his knee and leant over him to have a good look at his face.

"Are you still certain?"

The smith smiled brightly at the question, and nodded. "Yes," he took a shuddering breath. "A bit nervous though, I’ll admit. I haven’t done this in a long time."

The uruk leant down to press his lips to Celebrimbor’s forehead, then kissed him deeply. "Me neither. I promise I’ll go slow."

The elf nodded, and held onto the side of the uruk’s face and his upper arm. "I know."

And indeed, Adar took his time. Not only did he stretch his husband, but he also stroked him as he knelt before the elf, twin sensations that kept Celebrimbor relaxed and in a state of near perpetual pleasure.

The elf languished in his position and how it allowed him to watch his husband while the other worked. There was a look of concentration on Adar’s face while he alternated between focusing on his tasks and Celebrimbor’s face, as if to make sure the other was truly enjoying this.

Celebrimbor smiled and made no attempt to hide his reactions; he looked at Adar with hooded eyelids and his mouth half-open, spilling sighs and gasps whenever the other touched him in a particularly pleasant way.

He could tell the uruk was slowly but surely becoming more impatient, though he was good at hiding it. He hadn’t once touched himself, so Celebrimbor stretched out a hand and tried to motion the other to come closer, "Let me do something for you, too."

Adar smiled gently, and used one hand to stroke the space between Celebrimbor’s leg and his lower stomach for a bit. "You don’t have to do anything but lie back. I’ll take care of you tonight."

"Next time, then," the elf insisted cheekily, and then moaned and arched his back when Adar found that sensitive spot inside him.

Whether Celebrimbor’s reaction had been the final straw to entice his husband, or whether he simply deemed him ready, the elf would never know, but Adar soon finished his preparations and began to arrange the elf’s body to his liking.

Legs wrapped high around Adar’s upper body, ankles crossed at the back, the elf let his lower body be hoisted up by an arm around his hip while Adar reached down to line himself up to Celebrimbor’s entrance.

The elf cupped his husband’s cheeks once more, stroking gentle fingers along the scars there. Their faces were so very close. Adar’s eyes were almost black with how dilated his pupils were by that point. He was a sight to behold, with sweat beading on his forehead and strands of his hair stuck to his skin.

And yet, his expression remained so gentle, so attentive.

"May I?" the uruk asked. Celebrimbor nodded, not quite sure if he’d be able to manage any words.

They both sighed and pressed close when Adar began to sink into Celebrimbor’s body. This was not just warmth, but heat that spread through him now.

There was no pain, only a stretch that felt wonderfully intimate, and Adar who seemed to fight his own pleasure to keep his eyes on Celebrimbor, to make sure he was alright.

Trembling with how good he felt, the smith let himself spill whatever words came to him. "You feel wonderful," he said. It was true. "You’re being so gentle with me, so careful, nobody has touched me with such reverence."

"I wish you could see yourself right now. I could look upon you all day. Want to-" his breath hitched and he moaned once more as Adar finally sank in to the hilt and crowded close, rubbing their noses against each other as the uruk tried to catch his breath. "Want to sketch you like this, so you can see how radiant you are-"

With a loud groan, the uruk brought their lips together. The kiss was deeper, more urgent now, it almost felt as if he wanted to drink Celebrimbor down. He wrapped his hands around the elf’s shoulders and behind is head.

They both were breathless when they broke apart.

"Can I-?"

"Yes, please, move-" Adar laughed, very softly, at Celebrimbor’s eagerness, and pecked his lips before he began to follow his husband’s request.

The friction felt downright otherworldly, and the pleasure was only heightened because the elf got to experience his husband’s as well. They moved with each other and quickly found a rhythm that worked for them as they slowly built up the pace.

Still, Adar seemed to hold back. "I’m alright, I feel good- you can let go. I want you to. Please," the elf coaxed the other. It was clear the uruk was enjoying this, with the way every other breath turned into a deep groan and how he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open.

Adar needed a moment to find his words, and moaned when he found a good angle on his next thrust before he answered. "I’m- quite strong-"

"I know," Celebrimbor remembered Adar’s battle prowess. He curled himself up and brought their foreheads together as he clenched down onto the uruk. "I want to feel it. I don’t care about bruising – you won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I trust you."

This time, it didn’t take long to convince the other, and the smith soon held onto Adar with all his limbs and pressed his face into his neck as his voice rose in pleasure.

Adar hadn’t lied when he said he was strong; the way he snapped his hips down now was intense, but good. He managed to hit every single sensitive spot Celebrimbor had and still, nothing he did hurt, there was only pressure, and bliss.

"It’s good, it’s so good-" the elf reassured the other, encouraged him. "Please, don’t stop-"

They both were reaching for their completion now, desperate in how they scrambled against one another. Celebrimbor smeared spit onto Adar’s cheek as he attempted to speak, could feel the groans – no, growls – the uruk let out against the junction of his neck and shoulder, the way he mouthed at the skin.

"I’m close-" Adar warned through clenched teeth, before he brought his and Celebrimbor’s eyes into alignment again, both their hands around one another’s shoulders and on their cheeks now. "You feel so good, I’m so close-"

"I am too," Celebrimbor replied, breathless, eager, near overcome. "Please, you can-"

"Come for me," Adar asked him instead, and the elf was powerless to do anything but comply with a long moan of Adar’s name. Judging by the way Adar thrust down with all his strength and then shouted, loudly, he was quick to follow.

They were both shaking as pleasure washed over them, their hands slipped on sweat-covered skin, but then renewed their grip and held onto one another.

Celebrimbor couldn’t speak for himself, but Adar was quite the sight. His face was completely open now, and there was no strain, only the euphoria of release and underneath, the love he held for his husband, clear as day.

What a gift, the elf thought, that he got to see the other so unguarded and so content. Would get to see him like this, again and again.

The two husbands collapsed onto the bed in the aftermath. Adar was pressing Celebrimbor into the bed with his own weight, whereas the elf cushioned the uruk’s body with his own. Their grip on one another loosened as they caught their breath, but they did not fully let each other go.

Celebrimbor continued to rest his legs over his husband’s back and stroked fingers up and down between his shoulder blades. When Adar shivered and grew restless at the light touches, the elf moved his fingers into Adar’s hair instead, slowly carding through the soft strands and scratching his scalp.

Adar, too, seemed unwilling to move. His head was tucked under Celebrimbor’s chin where his breath fanned out over the elf’s collarbones. His right hand stroked a thumb up and down Celebrimbor’s hip, whereas his left one – the one usually in his gauntlet – sought of Celebrimbor’s free hand and linked their fingers together.

It was the elf who brought their hands to his lips for another kiss. Adar sighed in response, and rubbed in nose into Celebrimbor’s skin when the elf kissed the top of his head next.

They should probably move and get cleaned up, sooner or later, but for now, Celebrimbor just wanted to enjoy this moment.

He smiled, happy and exhausted, when Adar lifted his head. The uruk, too, looked like he’d soon fall asleep. Which was probably a good thing – both of them still needed to recover from the previous weeks.

As Celebrimbor stroked the back of his hand across Adar’s cheek, the other smiled back at him.

"I love you, Tyelpe," he said. Celebrimbor hadn’t ever seen him look more at ease, more happy, than in this moment.

His own resulting smile felt so wide the elf wasn’t sure how it could still fit his own face.

"I love you too, Adar. My husband."

The uruk reached over and brought their lips together once again. "Indeed. My husband."

[puhpandas]

just watched all the way through john fuhnaffs recent theory and like godd he really is cooking he truly is onto something but like. the idea that Cassies dad did all of thos important stuff and is connected to the mimic and built mxes and did all this shit is like. what do Gregory and vanessa even have to do with anything anymore at this point

[maliro-t]

replaying dav act 1 and the way i instantly prefer the minrathous route is wild sorry antiva 💀💀💀

[tatsumi-rin]

Moral Orel doesn't seem 100% like a show I'd feel seen in if you don't know me but then I remember the episode with the special ed kids and underneath the usual satire on extremist bible belt religion it reminds me WAY too much of how actual special ed departments treated me and other kids growing up.

Like the writers must HAVE BEEN THERE IN LIFE, man. I'd kill to sit down with Dino Stamatopoulos and find out what the fuck inspired him and the other writing staff that day.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[zukoromantic]

Battamonda as Lute from hazbin because @ai-higurashi keeps making fantastic points about how him and Caprikon would be SO good as Lute and Adam

Reference under the cut

[napping-sapphic]

Man got a bunch of xrays done today and they really said you can see them if you pay this 3rd party site $50 a year like girl wtf those are MY bones

[nascenticity]

i have seen a lot of headcanons (& fics!) about bucky doing crochet or knitting that i LOVE but i also need everyone to consider --

steve watching his mother doing irish crochet; maybe she even teaches him some simple things when he's sick and needs something to occupy him so he'll sit still and rest; its a creative outlet for sarah and that artistic streak is something she and steve share almost a century later, crochet comes back into fashion with millennials and gen-z, and steve looks up a youtube tutorial. he doesn't have many physical things left from his mom; but he can make some stuff that she would have loved and it helps him feel close to her.