#( i'm obsessed with them )

[grey-viridian]

Sillies

[didjeraman]

I like to believe that sometimes House wakes Wilson up at imaginable hours just so he can try his food

[rollinrabbit]

🔥 the plastic's gonna melt if you're the one to make it hot

[omokel]

criminally underrated ronsey interaction imo

[clarkewayne]

Since when do you care about anyone not named Jordan?

Jaz Sinclair and London Thor & Derek Luh as Marie Moreau and Jordan Li in GEN V (2023 - present)

[sparrowmoth]

This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart—or was it Wylan’s?—like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.

Please do not use, edit, or repost my art without permission.

[shaylai]

I would've loved it if they fought side by side 😭

[cupofmilkyway]

I promised old man yaoi and I HAD to deliver

[mockingjaysnakes]

"i just wanted to say goodbye"

"i'll come with YOU"

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hidamari ga Kikoeru / I Hear the Sunspot Episode 6

[orkazh-arts]

"Alex and I love each other deeply. And we are committed to each other deeply." ✨

[vagabondfirelily]

"Don't let him get into your head. He doesn't tell the truth."

"Don't let him get into your head. He only tells the truth. It's just rotting."

This is the most perfect description of Azzy. I'm going to scream

[lackadaisicallizard]

Sundays

Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays. 

Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. 

Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit. 

But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen. 

“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?” 

“How much do I need to add?” 

“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.” 

Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him. 

“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year. 

“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown. 

“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes. 

Flour ends up everywhere. 

“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust. 

“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.” 

Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.” 

“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.” 

He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?” 

Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?” 

“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.” 

“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.” 

Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.” 

“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!” 

“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.” 

“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband. 

“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.” 

Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind. 

“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear. 

Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” 

A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.” 

But the thing is, he hasn’t. 

Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain. 

But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done. 

Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised. 

And he loves every one. 

[lostyesterday]

Kira and Kai Winn have one of the most fascinating dynamics in DS9, in my opinion. All of their interactions are charged with so many emotions – pity and jealousy and contempt and longing. They are narrative foils – Kira who never seeks power yet is granted it anyway over and over, and Winn who has desperately sought power all her life but who finds herself always unsatisfied. Kira with an incredible strength of faith but who never hides her uncertainties, and Winn who tries desperately to hide her deep insecurities and the faith within herself she can never find to be strong enough. And Winn hates Kira and envies her and admires her. And Kira detests the actions Winn has taken and yet still empathizes with her and still must reckon with the fact that Winn is an integral part of the religious system that Kira places her faith in.

[whetstonefires]

So I was thinking about that passage where we hear about how Jiang Fengmian got so excited that Jiang Cheng was willing to be friends with Wei Wuxian that he hugged Wei Wuxian, and this broke 8-year-old Jiang Cheng's heart, because he loved to be held by his father, but his father almost never held him.

(Which led to Jiang Cheng kicking Wei Wuxian out and threatening to sic dogs on him, which made Wei Wuxian panic so badly he went and hid up a tree from these entirely hypothetical dogs, and Jiang Yanli went and found him, and then found Jiang Cheng in a hole and had to carry them both home, and their relationship was sealed by a mutual pact to hide the whole episode from both parents.)

Because the thing is, Jiang Cheng very much had something to be upset about! Wei Wuxian was a treasure and a joy to his father, something recovered beyond all hope, everything he could want in a disciple and the last remainder of the person or people he'd loved best.

And Jiang Cheng was a duty.

That was the entire reason for his existence: he was born out of his parents' obligation to produce a male heir for the Jiang.

Jiang Fengmian takes his duty seriously, but finds in it no joy, and that joylessness informed his relationship with his son at every turn.

And this is the same kind of tragedy as every other in this book. Because it's not that Jiang Cheng's father didn't love him, wasn't visibly fond of him; if there hadn't been this other person here he actually liked, the absence where he struggled to connect with him would have been felt, but it would have been less crushing.

...then, too, if his mother hadn't built that rivalry up the way she did, it would have hurt Jiang Cheng a lot less.

And been less of a thing! It's painfully obvious a lot of the aversion and distance between them is a product of Yu Ziyuan running in and screaming at her husband about how he's the worst and everything is about her at unpredictable intervals.

And of course, it's a lot harder to figure out how to compensate for your own partiality when you're also, simultaneously, trying to compensate for the partiality of another person who keeps insisting the only way to uphold the natural social order is to engage in systematic child abuse. The degree to which you cannot objectively handle a complex emotional situation while someone keeps yelling at you that you should do something morally repugnant or you're Bad cannot be overstated.

I really appreciate Yu Ziyuan as a character, but the heights of her incompetence and active malice as a parent are staggering.

But I was just reflecting on Jiang Fengmian's basic failure to grasp, right out the gate, that his eight year old was parched for affection and that giving more of it to someone else in front of him was going to hurt him. And I was like, haha that's only child behavior right there.

And then I was like. Holy shit. It is only child behavior! Like. Jiang Fengmian was an only child!

Like, duh, but that makes him a serious outlier! Most of the major characters in this story have siblings! It's an outrageously sibling-dynamic-driven book. Yu Ziyuan has at least two elder sisters, and could have any number of brothers or younger sisters--no shit she instinctively interpreted this situation through a lens of sibling rivalry!

Meanwhile that's going right over her husband's head because he's just like, okay going to vicariously live out my childhood fantasy where Changze got all the same advantages as me. 💖😊

[praetorqueenreyna]

Dream creating a sexy nightmare man with three mouths that loves to suck dick: it's for the good of humanity