#Am I the first to make this connection?

[thatagenderfreak]

Man, I love love interests with magic mothers who weaponize them and artificer dads. Just really sets up an angsty backstory for when you need more than "they're cute." The trauma also makes for a character who needs to prove themselves constantly, which makes excellent plot fodder.

[scruncheduppaper]

14 year old girls who turn into gods and disappear from all of their loved ones’ memories and exist solely as a concept and have a homoerotic relationship with their close friend + 10000 trauma points

[paperglader]

they really put alicent in bridgerton blue on the reunion and genuinely expected me to think that she didn’t in fact march all the way to dragonstone to get wifed up? bfr

[devilsskettle]

The X trilogy + "psycho-biddy" influences

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[saucebou]

What the flag actually means

[iamhereinthebg]

I will never be over the fact that tbhk really takes place in 2015

We know that AidaIro published the first chapter in December 2014

The Yugi Twins were in the 66th Festival in 1968 and the curent present have the 113th Festival.

On this panel, it's written that the 1st of September was a Tuesday. The closest years to the manga airing having this date being either 2009 or 2015.

Bonus:

Which means: the 1st year (Aoi, Akane, Nene) were born in 1999, Teru in 1998 and Kou and Mitsuba in 2000.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: THE GREAT CITIES DUOLOGY by N. K. Jemisin.

[maldupay]

fuck i need to replay isat because i cant remember anything but um something something siffrin's increasingly concerning comments through the acts on losing his appetite -> getting violently hungry -> having tear induced nightmares about cannibalizing his friends

[rox-of-iu]

hulloo, i am here once again with cultivate....but not the usual one (~_~;)

so funny thing! i had most of these already done from before, but felt a bit silly so i didnt post them. but then (spoiler) we got Tao Ying in his fresh new look and like.. i had to draw him and post the rest of the gang along with him hksfh. so here, the sillays

🍑Tao Ying

🐉Qing Mushu

🦆 The Empress

🐗The General

aaand more sillies of the goobers

aaaaand thats it hdjhdsjfhds so sorry for the long post lmao

characters yoinked from @neonghostcat cultivate

[goldensunset]

‘the children yearn for the mines’ is a little too real to me bc when i was a kid and my older siblings were trying to get me into pokémon i really never cared to try playing. BUT. i was obsessed with the underground mining minigame in dppt. i used to beg my sister to let me take a turn playing and set it up for me bc i didn’t know how to so i could go mine for gems nonstop until i cleared that entire cave section of glittering wall spots which always made me so sad bc i was having such a great time. i didn’t even understand the significance of what i was doing but 7 year old me was high off of it

[magicpiano]

One thing that drives me crazy about Jason Todd crawling out of his own grave is that, if he failed, and died a second time from the lack of oxygen, no one would ever have even known.

[existaantbeing]

I do find it moderately amusing when looking at the contrast between magical mountain's representation within the hermitcraft fanbase (especially early on in the season where it was absolutely everywhere) and its importance as a collective on the actual server (almost non-existant). I think people got really excited for a new boatem, but I don't think they've done anything as a larger group since day one. That being said, if you want to watch the actual successor to boatem this season- check out some of the hermits in the neighbourhood! They are always in each others business, have done quite a lot as a collective and are consistently hilarious whenever they interact. I feel like their relative lack of popularity is meaning a lot of hermitcraft fans are missing out on what in my view is the best grouping of the season, so if you were a fan of boatem, or similar close-knit groups, why not give them a try!

[steddielations]

flight of icarus spoilers

Something so heartwarming and gut-wrenching about the development of Wayne and Eddie's relationship:

So, Eddie lives alone in his dad's house (on and off, he goes to stay with Wayne for long stretches throughout his life, but at the start of the book he's 18 and has been there alone for months, by his choice) and Wayne checks in on him and brings him food.

Eddie mentions that Wayne's own shelves are pretty empty, but he always makes sure Eddie's are at least half stocked with things like tv dinners that he knows Eddie can eat easily. Eddie says "Wayne has a pet theory that I can't feed myself, so every two weeks or so I'll come home to find him shoving microwave dinners and canned soup onto the cluttered shelves and into the moldy refrigerator."

When Al shows back up, he belittles this, and says he’ll make Eddie a real meal (mind you he left Eddie with nothing but stale peanut butter and flat soda for days when he was 8) which then turns out to be a big spaghetti dinner over which he manipulates the shit out of Eddie, and dangles the prospect of them moving to California together in front of him, saying they'll make a tradition out of Spaghetti Saturdays. To which Eddie responds, "Like a real family?" (ouch) Of course, that doesn't happen.

But then!! When Eddie moves in with Wayne at the end of the book, he notices that Wayne made an effort to stock vegetables in the fridge. Vegetables. It surprises Eddie and they end up wilting because Eddie just doesn’t know how to react to such a clear act of care towards him. And I just hope they had plenty of family dinners after that (Excerpts below)

(ignore my highlighting it’s irrelevant)

Al leaving Eddie ⬇️

Wayne’s empty shelves ⬇️

Al belittling the food Wayne brings ⬇️

manipulation for dinner ⬇️

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to Wayne’s care (vegetables) ⬇️

[satan-wishes-he-was-me]

insane about senshi being so determined to take care of the party and feed them, specially izutsumi and chilchuck (when he thought chil was a kid) but even saying stuff about wondering how old marcille and laios were bc he wanted to keep them well fed so they could grow up strong bc that’s what his old dwarf mining crew did for him when he was a kid and they were stuck in the dungeon with no food😭😭😭

[smytherines]

I've been so fully invested in this spies are forever x severance au that I just had to write something for it. I'm not sure if I'll post it on ao3, all four people who are into spyverance are already beloved mutuals, but here's a little drabble based on this conversation between @szollibisz and @missholloween that I haven't been able to stop thinking about

"Curt... what are you doing?"

Shit. Curt glanced up at the mirror, but he didn't need to see Owen lingering in the doorway to know it was him. That strange lilting accent had been rattling around in Curt's head ever since he'd first heard it crackling over the intercom.

Curt scrambled to figure out something else-- anything else-- to tell him, but he had a dull pair of office scissors in one hand and half his beard was in the bathroom sink, so he figured he was already busted.

"I just-- uhhh--" And what could he say? That three days ago the new hire, fresh off another failed escape attempt, had mockingly told Curt that he'd be handsome if it wasn't for the beard? That he'd spent three days just thinking the word shave over and over again, hoping his outie would somehow get the message? That for some fucking reason he cared about the opinion of a man who had been nothing but trouble ever since he arrived on Chimera's severed floor?

He couldn't say that. So instead Curt silently watched in the mirror as Owen removed his dark brown suit jacket and folded it carefully over the top of a bathroom stall, unbuttoning the sleeves of his crisp white shirt to roll them up to just below his elbows.

"Alright, let's see it then."

Curt sighed and finally turned to face him. 

Owen's brow furrowed. His lips made a tight line, one finger pressed up against them like he thought it might be enough to hide that smirk on his face.

"We don't have any razors here..." Curt heard the whine in his voice as he trailed off, staring at a spot on Owen's collar to avoid meeting his eyes.

"Mm." Owen nodded, stepping in toward him until Curt was practically leaning up against the sink. "May I?"

God, he was close. Close enough that Curt could smell his aftershave, or cologne, or whatever he wore that smelled so good.

Curt managed to look up at him, and the bathroom felt smaller somehow.

Owen's eyes traveled down to Curt's hand, his palm outstretched, those long, slender fingers wiggling expectantly until Curt finally figured out what he wanted.

"Y'know, last time I gave you something you almost split my head open with it," Curt said, placing the handle of the scissors in Owen's hand, "So if you could do me a favor and--"

Owen held his free hand up in front of him, "I will try my level best not to break the skin this time."

"You get one," Curt warned, only half-joking. He still had a scar on his forehead from the mug Owen had launched at him. "Next time I hit back."

"Noted." 

Suddenly Owen's fingers were tipping Curt's jaw up, his thumb pinching onto Curt's chin to tilt his head.

Curt tried to remember the last time another person had touched him. There had been a handshake with Cynthia a few weeks earlier. But Curt had to formally request it, and it had been every bit as uncomfortable as he expected. 

Tatiana hugged him once, not long before her unexpected departure. And thinking back on it, that was the only other time Curt could remember someone touching him on purpose.

With his chin tilted up, and Owen hovering over him with pursed lips and those dull scissors, it was hard to avoid looking directly at Owen's face. 

And that wasn't a problem for him, really. Because Curt found that he liked looking at Owen's face. The crooked grin that peeked through on the rare occasion where he wasn't scowling. Large, deep-set amber eyes that always seemed to be looking for an exit. Eyebrows that twisted and wriggled almost as much as Owen's hands did when he spoke. 

Owen made him feel... something. Which was unnerving, because most of the time Curt couldn't feel anything but numb. Numb and nauseous, sweating and shaking more and more as the hours ticked by. His mouth was dry and his head was sore, and every day was the same boring bullshit in the same boring place.

And when Owen moved his hand away to begin cutting, Curt desperately wanted to pull it back down and press it against his skin. To feel that churning in his gut, that pressure in his chest. Feel the way his heart raced and he could hardly catch his breath. Feel something.

Owen's eyes narrowed, and he wasn't looking at Curt's jaw anymore, and just for a second Curt wondered if Owen felt something too. 

But it was just a flicker, so brief that it might have been a trick of the light. 

"We could--" Curt jolted out of his thoughts as Owen spoke again, "Do try and stay still, love," he tutted.

"Sorry, I was..." Curt didn't know what he was doing anymore. "What were you going to say?"

Owen glanced up, scanning Curt's face quickly and uncertainly before getting back to work. 

"I was going to say that if you're really that desperate for a change, we could always botch this. Give him--" Owen flicked his eyes toward the ceiling, "no choice but to shave it all off."

"Does it really look that bad? I thought it looked kinda... cool?" Curt said hopefully. His hands were shaking, but he tried to keep his voice even.

Owen's head bent down, tilted low enough that Curt couldn't see his eyes. His skin prickled as he braced himself for Owen to laugh at him or insult him. But instead Owen's voice came out unexpectedly soft and quiet.

"I think it would be an awful shame for you to hide yourself away."

That felt like something too. But before Curt could comment on it (not that he could think of anything to say), Owen had resumed cutting. 

"So that was a 'no,' on the sabotage idea, I take it?" Owen said lightly, like nothing had happened. So maybe nothing had happened, at least not for him. 

Curt took a breath, louder and more ragged than he intended. "Nah. He grew this beard, so he's probably already lost the will to live--" Owen chuckled at that, "I don't want to push him over the edge."

"You're far more merciful than I."

"Clearly." Curt laughed. Owen had threatened to chop his own fingers off as a threat to his outie, so the bar was admittedly pretty low.

"Well, if you won't allow me to take chunks out of it, I suppose my work is done here." Owen smiled, just slightly. His hand returned to Curt's face, brushing off the hair he had just trimmed. 

Owen's hand lingered on Curt's chin, two fingertips barely touching Curt's cheek, and Curt's heart was beating so loudly that he could hardly hear himself think. They were only a couple of inches apart now, and he wondered if Owen could hear it too.

Owen swallowed thickly. There was something in his eyes. Something more than a flicker. Something definite.

That was when Curt realized that his hand was on Owen's hip. 

He quickly snatched his hand away, his mouth already trying to form an apology that his mind hadn't come up with yet. He tried to put space between them, but Owen had backed him up into the sink and there was no place left to go.

Owen stumbled backwards. His face contorted painfully as his back connected with the far wall of the bathroom. 

"Owen, I--"

But he was out the door before Curt could finish. 

And there he was, alone again, shaking, with nothing but the blue tile walls and the blue tile floors, and one dark brown jacket.