#I’m so cooking about it

[abstractjello]

Idk if you care but skyward link loves Zelda, skyward Zelda is Hylia botw Zelda loves link, botw link is hylias champion

[goldensunset]

when people refer to canon story-relevant kingdom hearts games as ‘spinoffs’ it makes me sad not only for the obvious reasons i always say but also bc like man i WISH this series had spinoffs. imagine what they could do if they had permission from nomura to truly go off the rails and ignore the greater canon for a second and just do some fun whimsical plotless thing in an alternate universe. imagine a fishing/boating game on destiny islands. kh fighting game. it is an injustice that we have been deprived of kingdom karts. can anyone hear me

[chloesimaginationthings]

HBEBEBEBEBEB UR WILLIAM DESIGN IS SO SILLYYYYY THAT SKRUNKLY OLD MAN IS GETTING THE CHAIR <3333

The worst man ever 💜

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

distracts you from the fact that i posted the wip for this like seven months ago with the wlw rarepair

[ivyithink]

okay, but armand getting to see baby!vamp lestat? still so excited about how different the world is to a vampire?? teaching him stuff and witnessing the joy that brings???

[ironunderstands]

“gambler” “doctor” just kiss already istg

Ngl one of my favorite things about Aventurine and Ratio’s relationship is the fact that they don’t ever call one another by their real name’s to faces, hell, Ratio doesn’t even call Aventurine “Aventurine” to him and Aventurine only seems to call him Ratio when he wants to tease him

The “gambler” “doctor” thing they have going on is one of the most endearing things ever and I wish people talked about it more because it’s a dynamic that’s unique to them in hsr, I don’t think any other characters refer to each other in such a manner, which makes it feel really special imo

Moreover; they don’t act like this with other people either, Ratio will refer to people by their names or by their jobs/titles, or with a “you”, something rarely reserved for Aventurine. Meanwhile Aventurine tends to use nicknames, but they are far more descriptive and impersonal, like “the emanator” for Acheron, or “my trailblazing friends,” as if he’s putting distance between them.

However, he doesn’t treat “doctor” like this, switching it up by calling him doc or using it three million times in a row or tossing in the occasional “professor” which is used in the name teasing manner, as if it is Ratio’s actual name.

And speak of the devil; he also uses “gambler” in a unique way as Ratio utilizes it no matter what his mood is. Passive, embarrassed like in Avens kit demo, angry like when he’s feigning offense during the 2.0 scene. Even in different contexts Ratio will pretty much only ever refer to him like this when they are together. He also attaches “damned” and “dear” (although I think this is EN only) onto the nickname, and he repeated the “damned” a lot, almost making “damned gamber” another nickname in itself. What’s interesting is that when they are apart he actually calls Aventurine “Aventurine”, or “that man/our man” which seems to be reserved for Ratio’s more affectionate moments for him, even if they are buried by layers of tsundere (like his voiceline for Aventurine).

Either way, I guess what I’m trying get at is that they refer to one another in a really unique manner and I love it and it’s lowkey really homoerotic because what do you mean you have established exlusive nicknames for one another 🤨

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@rosekillermicrofic may 4 — hopeless — 1233words — cw: mildly pervy and sexual thoughts, nothing explicit though

no thoughts, just line cook! barty

A miracle.

The gods have heard Barty’s wishes and granted him this blessing.

Evan usually gets set up for dealing with the bar or counter but on rare occasions his lovely name gets jotted down in the column of servers/busboys. Today is one of those fateful occurrences which means Barty has at least 30% longer time windows of flirting his jolly ass off and burning food he’s not paying attention to curtsy of Evan’s slutty narrow hips in those damn aprons. Obscene things, those are.

Barty is currently staring at them as he blindly flips the burger patties one after the other, the stove sizzling animatedly. Barty is pretty sure he hasn’t blinked once since Evan has entered the kitchen again a minute ago to help sort dishes.

“So how’s your day been so far, Evan darling?”

“No,” comes back immediately. Not even a look thrown over his shoulder.

Barty’s grin widens. He puts more meat on the stove.

“Aw, c’mon. People been scant with tips already or what?”

Evan doesn’t reply, instead ripping off the notes from his pad and wordlessly striding over to Barty’s station, pinning them up.

Two of today’s specials, one cheesesteak and one portion of chicken for a caesar salad. And a little dick scribbled in the bottom corner.

“More people coming in than usual. Get a move on,” Evan says before briskly walking off again. Barty just so manages to get a whiff of spicy deodorant and whatever shea butter coconut extract beauty shit Evan uses for his curls before he’s gone again.

Barty sighs, looking after his pert little ass and long legs all the way until he’s around the corner. Then he readjusts his grip on the spatula and finally picks the patties off the grill, calling for Lily to collect them and assemble.

“They’re burnt,” she hisses, punching him in the arm with vigor. It hurts but Barty is too busy thinking about what type of underwear Evan might be wearing today. “Stop getting distracted by Rosier and do your damn job, chef.”

Barty hums, “What you think it’ll take to trick Evan into following me into the freezer room?”

Another hit. The same exact spot and Barty can’t help but hiss in pain this time.

Lily simply shakes her head, muttering Hopeless as she leaves.

Rush hour comes and goes.

Barty doesn’t let himself be bothered by the frenzy of it, bobbing his head to his playlist jamming over the old, staticy speakers while servers bustle around him like worker bees.

It’s meditative to him in a way and usually he sort of snaps out of it once it all calms down.

It’s when Evan asks him for leftover containers that Barty is brought back down to earth today.

The other boy is flushed in the face, slightly sweaty and hair messy with what can only be described as the final quarter of an eight hour shift look. It looks unfairly sexy on him.

The take out containers are in the cupboard over Barty’s head to his left side which he made sure to push all the way back during his break earlier.

“Yeah, they’re right here,” Barty says, nodding to the shelf.

“Grab two for me?”

Barty turns back to his meat again, teeth digging into his lower lip, grin straining his cheeks. “Nope.”

There’s nothing for a few seconds, only the background noise of the restaurant, the sizzling oil and Barty’s music.

When he turns again Evan is standing in the middle of the kitchen, rooted to the spot, blinking at Barty once. “‘No’?”

Barty hums, “Yeah, ’m pretty busy right now in case you can’t tell.” He shuffles a strip of bacon around as if to prove his point.

Evan’s eyes narrow, lips twisting into an obscene little pout, “You just have to lift your arm!”

“Sorry, no can do, Rosie baby.”

“You-” Evan huffs, “Hand me the fucking boxes, Crouch.”

“Can’t,” he replies airily, shrugging. “They’re pretty high up, too,” a hum, “I might not even be tall enough. I think you’ll have to walk your devilishly tall ass over here and grab them yourself.”

“Branleur,” Evan spits before reluctantly closing the distance between them.

His amber eyes glower dangerously at Barty and he has to suppress a deeply satisfactory hum, gut tightening and blood thrumming.

Evan yanks at the handle, opening it up to the ceiling before stretching up on his tiptoes to peer into it. He lets out a grumble, presumably at finding the containers to, in fact, be there but pushed all the way to the wall.

He’s only taller than Barty by a bit, an inch or two, maybe three, which means he’s struggling to reach the boxes too.

And it’s glorious and heavenly and so very tempting because Evan’s shirt is riding up in the back and, oh god, he has dimples there. Fuck, Evan has back dimples and they’re approximately half an armslength from Barty’s twitching fingers and it really requires visceral effort not to reach out and dig the pads of his thumbs into them. Push and maybe fold Evan right in half over the counter all together. Lick along his spine and bite into his hip bones, the smooth skin of his stomach, nibble at that one little mole right next to his navel that Barty was once fortunate enough to make acquaintance with and has since rubbed one out to more times than he could count.

When the other boy lifts back down he catches him staring, their eyes snapping to each other instantly.

“Don’t be a perv,” Evan comments, giving Barty a derogative once over and christ, no, don’t do that.

Barty laves his tongue along the corner of his own mouth, collecting spit that was threatening to drool, and uses a quick hand to adjust himself in his jeans.

Evan’s eyes follow his movement, arms crossing in front of his chest and a heavy breath punches out of Barty. He can’t help it, his mind is a powerpoint of all the different things he wants to do to Evan to make him lose this put-on condescending demeanor. Glimpses of the prettiest pair of eyes rolling back, eyebrows scrunching pitifully as Barty sinks into deliciously tight heat.

He desperately needs to get Evan alone with him. “Wanna smoke a blunt with me after closing?” he blurts.

And then Evan suddenly smiles. A downright cute little thing, all coy and syrupy sweet, poisonously candid. So viscous saccharine Barty feels it immobilize him like a glue trap and he groans in anticipation of the fatal blow Evan is about to deliver.

“Sorry, B,” he murmurs innocently, clicking his head, “no can do.”

It glides over Evan’s lips all strained and faux and with the most erotic little pitch Barty’s ears have ever heard.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his semi straining so heavily against the denim it would surely be visible without his own apron.

From one moment to the next Evan’s smile falls, having fulfilled its purpose, and he gives one last snootily look before he whirls on his heels and marches away, takeout containers in hand.

Just over to the other end of the kitchen where he bends down to grab some cutlery with which he will scrape the leftovers from the plate into the aluminum containers.

Doing so, Evan’s shirt rides up again, his ass jutting out and Barty vaguely registers the smell of burnt pork as he commits the muscle shift of Evan’s thighs and back into his memory for later.

[ravennhearted]

Sometimes I think about how Merlin took place over 10 years—a whole decade—and the thought of the show spanning that long feels entirely too long and like an infinite amount of time and that it can’t actually have been ten years

And then I think about how Merlin is 16-18 in the first season. And I just—

That means, at the oldest, Merlin was only 28. He wasn’t even 30

And then I just start losing my mind for a whole different reason

[fishyfarms]

“But there’s still time, it’s not too late // Nothing will change until I change”

Guysssssssss I love Maru SOOOO much you don’t even know. It’s hard for me to pick favorite bachelors/bachelorettes bc I do genuinely love them all (Harvey only wins by a MARGIN and that’s just bc he’s just like me fr) but Maru is literally so high up for me I’m always so intimidated about romancing her bc she’s just so cool! But also CA…can we talk about the bob. Why did you give her a BOB! She would not have a bob I’m sorry I had to change that. Anyways she’s my favorite cutie patootie I had SO much fun drawing her honestly 🫶

[your-gracelyn]

[sharptoothed-gaze]

Anyone else thinking about how qPhilza essentially said that he thinks that death on Quesadilla Island is defined by its impermanence?

Because I still am, and it’s such an interesting thread to follow guys! Especially since when he was talking to Chayanne about it, he was referencing both the adult residents of the island and the dead eggs.

For the adults, we know they have respawn mechanics that can often render death down to an annoyance or even a joke. Then, there are the dead eggs, who can apparently still communicate and have conversations as ghosts despite being fully dead. From this, it is CLEAR that death is not actually the end for anyone who lives on this island. They can choose to be present regardless.

(Plus, we know that the Federation ultimately has control over the eggs’ lives. They have 100% been able to return them in some ways in the past like with Bobby’s final goodbye).

SO YEAH! Those examples of death were in qPhilza’s mind when he asked ‘what even is dead’ on the island? And that is fascinating because it’s genuinely so different from what he knew!!!

During his talk with Chayanne, Phil took the opportunity to explain the nature of the Death that he knows and is most is familiar with. It’s a Death that is permanent. He even addressed it as /real/ and distinguished it from that of the island.

Just the way he speaks about it really conveys the permanence and deep significance that Death held in the world he comes. It is a fundamental difference which highlights a distinction between Philza’s past and the reality he’s now living on Quesadilla Island.

For me, this also so clearly explains why he reacts to deaths on the island the way he does!!

At this point, he’s been on Quesadilla island so long that he has become very desensitized to the deaths of his fellow adults. To him, their deaths are nothing /permanent/ because that’s not how Death on the island works. Unlike where he’s from, he holds a confidence that any of his friends can come back with enough action.

HOWEVER even if he’s accepted this to be true for his friends, he can’t shake his own instincts. As much as he wants to think death is something safer here, he’s still from a world where Death is something entirely different. QPhilza is a deeply anxious and paranoid man who will probably never quite trust the idea that dying is okay. He might be connected to Death, but he is still a survivalist.

I think that QPhilza is a man who has felt true Death once before, and he will do everything in his power to avoid a repeat.

[yea-baiyi]

oh my god hua cheng is fucking trans we never find out his birth name because it’s his fucking dead name

[the-siren-in-your-fridge]

Damn those pilots can sure twenty one!

[aspennntree]

i cooked.

[philsbrownquiff]

I think just once we should get a Dan and Phil Cooking video. Like as a proof of life wellness check sort of thing to prove they aren’t entirely completely dependent on Deliveroo

[grahamcore]

my toxic trait is finding hannibal references in every aspect of my life and especially when they’re not present even a little bit