#and he is none the wiser and never will be

[rizsu]

ꪆ୧ ── REAP WHAT YOU SOW ┊ LOVE TO LOSE ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

꒰ heart to none ﹢ if only he knew karma would come back to bite his ass a few years later. now he misses his ex while she's moved on.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: nothing much!! just moments of him suffering

co-parenting with satoru truly isn't all butterflies. as reserved and respectful as he is (to a selected few), satoru never hesitated to taunt you whenever you mentioned going on dates.

“a date? hmm, good luck with that.”

“if it happens to kick off, good for you, but i don't want him near my child.”

“how exciting! i hope it fails.”

those are just some examples of his behaviour. he's vocal about disliking you and the idea of sharing you. had he known beforehand he'd become slightly possessive, he would've avoided you and relationships altogether.

loving someone his mind hates but his heart longs for isn't an experience he'd wish upon his worst enemy — it's too much. the wretched feeling in his chest deepens whenever he's with the kid; scenarios of you being beside him at that very moment flashes before his eyes, but his pride's too high to crash whatever you're doing.

that doesn't stop him from texting, however. he never had an issue with double—triple texting you. if he had something to say (which is never anything important), he'll say it.

satoru: hey.

satoru: did you forget you have a family at home?

satoru: my child's asleep btw, we had fun all day.

you: my* child. not yours.

satoru: so what am i, an elf on babysitting duties?

you: sure if that's what you want. now stop texting my phone.

satoru: what if i'm dying?

you: i'd pop some champagne. throw something on the grill. light up a cigarette, even.

satoru: you don't even like cigarettes.

you: exactly. now bye i'll be there for six.

yeah, there's no doubt that you'll never entertain him again. he, too, wouldn't entertain himself if he was in your position. sure, he was an ass in the relationship but— you're both older and wiser. maybe you can put the differences aside and come together? a flat no is what you'd answer.

satoru doesn't even hear from you often; most of your activity reports come from your child who excitedly tells their father the details, wishing he was there.

“you guys had fun. i wish i was there too, bub.”

a sentimental tone settled in his voice. he's suffering the consequences of his actions, and he desperately needs you to help him through it.

just like old times: you'd be there for him, going along with whatever he needed to calm down. whether it's wanting to be in you or on you— as long as your arms were wrapped around him.

but it's all a memory now. a bitter one.

do you show your vulnerable side to the guys you date, too? do you hold them the way you held him? do they even know what you like? do they know you the way he knows you?

jealousy, regret, longing— everything mixes in his mind. his stomach aches. it feels as though his insides are hollow.

he adores your child. they look mostly like him, but the personality stems from you. the attitude, tantrums, even the way they hold things — it's all you. he guesses the kid's observed you and eventually picked up your habits. satoru relates; after all, he still has some of your habits he picked up.

as the clock ticks on, his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone. somehow, he found himself in your pinned chat— debating whether he should text or not. he's been typing and deleting for the past ten minutes. unless you're not on the app, there's no way you didn't notice the ‘typing...’ under his contact name.

satoru: i've been thinking.

(message deleted)

satoru: fuck your date let's get back together.

(message deleted)

satoru: or whatever you're doing right now. let me apologize — it's been years. our baby's four now.

(message deleted)

satoru: hey.

you: what's with these deleted messages?

you: are you okay?

he wonders. is he okay? would you come over if he said no? are you going to be mad if he re-sent what the deleted messages said?

satoru: uhhh yeah. everything's fine.

satoru: i'm bored that's why.

satoru: you should totally come over.

you: no.

you: talk to you later.

satoru: please? i'm serious.

you: fine.

satoru: might as well spend the night.

(message deleted)

satoru: thanks.

(message delivered)

“well fuck...” he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. he doesn't have anything to say nor do with you. actually, he does — he has quite a few, but he wouldn't push your buttons. he'd love to, but the chances of him receiving a slap is high.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 139

Geralt has noticed some... Things... About his traveling companion, Jaskier. Troublesome things. Like how he's almost certainly of faeblood. It's just little things he does or says or is that make Geralt's imaginary radar go off. He never uses iron utensils, He is truthful to a fault, He's mischievous and lustful, He never breaks a promise, not in an honorable way, but almost in a way as if fate is forcing his body to complete whatever he promised, no matter what. He's also gorgeous. Even in times when the road should've worn him down. Where there should be dust or grime, Jaskier somehow still shines like a freshly polished jewel. And don't even get Geralt started on the impossibility of Jaskier's freakishly vibrant blue eyes. That is NOT human! There are always wildflowers when Jaskier walks in the woods, even sometimes when they are out of season. Trees seem to bend toward him, always making a cover for the rain to keep him dry. When he went swimming, Geralt swears the water looks cleaner afterward. One time Geralt got tired of human-safe food, and decided to cook their dinner that night differently. He cooked one serving all the way, safe for humans, and one only a little, still nice and raw, unsafe for humans. And yet Geralt came back from feeding Roach to find Jaskier happily chowing down on the raw one. Geralt went to warn him, but stopped. Could Jaskier really not tell the difference? Surely the texture and taste was different... And then Jaskier was done. Geralt waited a few days, just sure Jaskier would fall ill, as humans usually did when eating food Geralt has learned is unsafe for them, but Jaskier didn't fall ill. In fact, he seemed healthier than ever. Which could only mean he isn't human. When Geralt talks to Jaskier and hints about knowing however, Jaskier doesn't seem to realize. Which means he must not even know. Geralt paces around camp. How is he to break the news to Jaskier that Jaskier has fae in his blood? Perhaps his mother cheated, perhaps one of his parents were a changeling, perhaps a grandparent wasn't what they said they were, perhaps he, himself, is a changeling... Jaskier returns from a bathroom break and cocks an eyebrow at his witcher pacing around camp like a restless animal. "Geralt? Darling, what are y-" "Jaskier, you're fae." Geralt blurts. Fuck. That is not how he wanted to break the news to poor Jaskier. Jaskier is standing there, face paling, eyes wide, breath coming in short rasps. It's difficult news to deliver, and Geralt did it insensitively. Jaskier seems to be panicking. Geralt will help him, will comfort him. Fae or not, that's his Jaskier. Jaskier is freaking the FUCK out. Geralt found out he's fae! Fuckfuckfuck! He thought he was so good at hiding it! Sure, there were a few slipups here and there, as there is with any big secret, but he really thought Geralt was none the wiser! He should've known the monsterhunter would recognize a monster when he saw one. Now Jaskier must decide if he'll die by Geralt's hand, or try to outrun the witcher, as surely no man wants to be companions with a member of the trickster faefolk.

[pridequest64]

The Catwoman Family

Selina Kyle attempts to rob Wayne Manor early in her career. Bruce catches her but the two strike up an instant rapport. Selina "Gives up" her stealing ways and the two eventually marry.

The newlywed couple decided to go to the circus where they watch the Flying Grayson's fatal show. They quickly adopt young Dick Grayson who soon joins Selina as the first ever Stray.

Some years go by with Bruce still none the wiser to his family's hidden life. On one particular day out the Wayne family is found strolling along Robbinson park when a young thief snatches Selina's purse. The trio chase down the purse snatcher as he ducks into an abandoned apartment building. Dick is the first to find the younger boy who is now huddled with an even smaller kid, purse held tightly against his chest. Dick easily recognizes the youngest boy as Timothy Drake.

Tim's parents had died on an overseas trip, and their entire fortune was lost in legal courts. Tim was forced into foster care but quickly ran away and was forced to live out on the streets. This is where he meets Jason Todd, an orphan himself the two formed a strong bond as they attempted to survive on Gotham's deadliest streets.

Selina can't help but pity the poor boys. And having noticed the skills with which Jason was able to evade capture for some minutes she offers to adopt the young boys. Bruce is shocked but Selina quickly reminds him of the background she comes from and the way they had meet. She explains that she wants to help the poor duo live the life she has been given and never resort to stealing again.

And though she may love the two boys deeply even she knows the real reason for her kindness is found in growing the ranks of The CatFamily.

(I'm sure others have come up with similar concepts to this. If so, I hope I was able to add enough of my own flair to make this post stand out. Alfred is still a big part of Bruce's life though he feigns ignorance over Selina's night life. Bruce has his inklings of what she may be doing but has never followed through with his assumptions because he loves his wife too much. And despite the way I worded the last paragraph I do want to point out that Selina through all of this one hundred percent loves her kids. Yes, she uses them for her gain, but she treats them as if they were her own kids. Not sure how Damian or Steph, Cass and all the others would fit in. But hey that's up to your own interpretation. Hope you Enjoyed :)

[disastercyborgecho]

Hope I did this justice :)

***

Logically, the Ghost Crew knew that their newest member was just a man. But logic and them were never close friends before, now were they.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first victim was Ezra, who swears he was minding his own business when he stumbled across Kallus napping in the small kitchen of the Ghost. This should have been normal, they all grabbed sleep wherever and whenever they could. 

But Kallus was sleeping standing up. 

Ezr had sleepily shuffled in at an ungodly hour in search of caf and potentially a sugary snack that Kanan and Hera didn’t need to know about. Instead he was met with Kallus, stock still and holding a caf mug, eyes closed and a small snore escaping his lips. Ezra just paused for a moment, unsure if he should wake the man up. Eventually, he shrugged and went about pouring his own mug. At least Kallus was nice enough to leave the pot warmed up. 

The soft noises of ceramic on alloy seemed to rouse the man a moment later, and Ezra watched, a little dumbstruck, as Kallus just shook his head a little, took a breath, and then pulled out a datapad and resumed whatever project he had been working on. He took a sip of caf and then had the audacity to look insulted when it was lukewarm, as if he hadn’t been fully asleep a moment ago. He took no notice of Ezra at all.

The padawan shook his head and headed back to his bunk. “What the kriff?” he muttered under his breath in a soft awe. He decided he needed to make Kallus teach him how to do that.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second victim was Hera. The incident was also in the kitchen, coincidentally. It was early morning, and she had gone to make herself some breakfast before running protocol checks for the Ghost before they lifted off, and Kallus had beaten her to it. Starting a little at his presence, used to her morning routine being a solitary one, she quickly moved to pour herself some cereal. Kallus was reading something on his screen, squinting, but the sound of her breakfast seemed to remind him why he had entered the area in the first place, and he joined her at the counter.

“Mind if I use that after you?” he gestured to the cereal box.

Hera shrugged her consent and passed it over, humming.

Then watched aghast as he poured his milk in first and then his cereal. 

She looked up at Kallus, hoping to detect some kind of sign that he was messing with her. This man was a highly trained and specialized operative, this had to be a bit. 

But Kallus was happily sipping his cursed breakfast, none the wiser, and Hera was forced to move on with her day as if this information hadn’t irrevocably changed her.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The third victim was Kanan. He liked to pretend he wasn’t affected at all, but Hera had photographic proof of his expression, which she periodically reminded the man of.

They had been taking a break, desperately needed, and Hera had landed the Ghost next to a small isolated cove, the water clean, clear, and an almost eye-straining blue. Ezra and Sabine had immediately donned bathing suits and threw themselves into the water, cackling and trying to push each other under. Zeb settled himself under an umbrella with a book and a mug of tea, mumbling about salty water and fur, and Kanan rolled his pants up to wade along the shore with Hera. The water was delightfully cool on his feet and he signed in contentment. 

Then Kallus made his way off the Ghost. Ezra waved at the man and shouted for him to join them, and he smiled, seeming to enjoy the sun on his cheeks. Kanan was happy to see more color in the ex-imperial’s face, the bags under his eyes a little less prominent. Then Kallus shucked off his boots and joyously made his way into the water. With his socks still on. 

Kanan refuted this later, but Hera swore he gagged. The camera shutter of the blasted photo being taken pulled Kanan from his initial shock and disgust, but he couldn’t stop staring. Kallus looked down, shoved his hands into the sand and pulled out a glittering pick shell. Excitedly, he turned back to show Zeb, who peeked over his sunglasses and nodded approval before going back to his book. And Kanan could not tear his eyes away from the now soaked pair of socks on Kallus’ feet. Hera had to pull him away, nudging his shoulder.

“Let him enjoy himself, love,” she said.

“Yeah, sure,” Kanan mumbled distractedly, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it for at least a whole three more rotations.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fourth victim was Sabine. At this point, the Ghost crew was acclimating to their newest member and his quirks. Ezra had once referred to Kallus as their ‘friendly cryptid’ and wouldn’t elaborate, but Sabine wholeheartedly agreed. She thought they had mostly gotten used to learning about the completely mundane but quirky aspects of the blonde man. 

Apparently she was sorely mistaken.

After learning that Kallus enjoyed sketching some in his freetime, she had delightfully invited him to join her and work on art together on a day where they were stuck in hyperspace. When the time came, and he hesitantly knocked on her door to ask if the invitation still stood, his sketchbook clutched in his hand, she happily let him into her bunk. She had been adding to the mural painted on the ceiling, trying to fill in some of the blank spots with tiny doodles, and gestured to a spot she had yet to get to.

“You’re welcome to add something if you like, no pressure,” she said.

Kallus nodded, still taking in the swirling colors of her walls, but eventually he picked up a paintbrush of his own. Sabine left him to it, getting sucked into her own work, but when she leaned up to crack her neck and stretch out her cramping muscles, she turned to check in on the man.

He too was invested in his painting, taking no notice of Sabine, which allowed her a solid minute to watch in disbelief at the way he held a paintbrush.

It was gripped in his fist in the way a child might pick up a pen, all fingers wrapped around it, zero finesse, as he stared up at his work, a small dribble of orange splattered on his cheek. And listen, Sabine was the last person to judge (sometimes), but genuinely, what the actual kriff.

She never did say anything about it though, because the painting did end up turning out well, and the whole thing felt a little like a fever dream. Kallus hummed happily as he made his way back to his own bunk when they finished, his hands stained with bright colors and his shoulders relaxed. Sabine decided that the next time they did this, she would just have to never look at his hands until he put the blasted paintbrush down.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zeb refused to admit he was caught off guard when it happened. Kallus was his friend, he would not be taken aback by the weird things the man sometimes did. He was an incredibly competent strategist and spy for Force sakes, what did anyone care if the man poured his milk in before his cereal?

Then Kallus walked by one day in the cramped hallway of the Ghost and Zeb smelled the most horrific, plasticky, fake cinnamon scent on his breath. The Lasat had to hold his breath until Kallus made it into the cockpit before exhaling in a huff and immediately high-tailing it to the fresher. 

On the shelf where they all kept their hygiene supplies, in the small spot Kallus had taken for himself in the corner, a tube of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste was tucked innocently against the wall. Zeb glared at it. This would not stand if he ever wanted to speak to Kallus again. And why did the man even own something like that? What kind of mad-man would brush his teeth with cinnamon? 

But Zeb was a problem-solver.  And if Kallus went to use his toothpaste and found regular old mint with his original tube suspiciously gone, that was simply none of Zeb’s business. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Kallus was long integrated into the Ghost crew. A part of the family. But they had yet to run any complicated missions with the man, since much of his time was spent working in Intelligence.

Then he’s sent as their backup with them as they break into an Imperial compound for information on flight plans that the Rebellion desperately needed.

And the Ghost crew was reminded why Kallus had survived this long in his line of work. 

Kallus was taken prisoner. Again. A mission had gone wrong, and when he had gone to meet an information, he was met with an overwhelming wave of stormtroopers instead, and immediately taken into custody. 

But the Ghost crew was going to get him back. They didn’t leave family behind.

They arrived at the facility, and though an alarm had been triggered, it was going well. Ezra, Sabine, Kanan, and Zeb made their way quickly through corridor after identical corridor, searching for the cell Kallus was supposed to be kept in, according to Chopper. The droid wheeled ahead of them, beeping at them to hurry up. 

They were all worried about their newest member. The Empire knew that Kallus had defected to the Rebellion, and the Force only knew what kind of interrogation he was undergoing even as they sprinted closer and closer to him. 

Sliding to a stop to avoid another squad of stormtroopers as they marched past on the search for whoever tripped the annoying flashing alarm on their base, Chopper beeped that they were almost there.

“What’s almost, you bucket of bolts?” Ezra complained, panting.

They got their answer just as Chopper was about to zap Ezra in answer when a stormtrooper, sans bucket, flew out from the corridor to their right, sliding to a stop just as Kanan’s feet. Emerging from the smoke that was slowly curling out of the darkened hallway, Kallus stepped into the flashing light. He was barefoot, wearing only his cargo pants and thin white undershirt, which was splattered with a concerning amount of blood. His hair was wild and stained red, and his nose was crooked, bleeding and smeared across his cheek. He rubbed a fist across his face, only making it worse, his knuckles busted open and bleeding as well. In his hand he held a shard of metal, cloth wrapped around it as a handle, edge scraped to a dangerous level of sharpness. Blood dripped from there, too, and down his arm. 

For a moment, the ghost crew didn’t move, frozen in surprise. Kallus looked up at them, seeming to brighten, and a smile spread across his face. A tooth was missing but Kallus seemed in better spirits having seen them. He walked over casually, as if he wasn’t in horrific shape. 

“Great to see you, why don’t we get out of here?”

Slowly Kanan nodded, and shaking himself, he pushed the rest of their members towards their exit plan, Chopper once again in the lead. As they passed the corridor Kallus had come from, a pile of unconscious stormtroopers could be seen, the broken lights sparking over red smearing over the walls and a fire still burning at the entrance of a cell, the door to it blacked and charred.

Ezra glanced at Kallus and then looked back at Zeb as they ran. Zeb could only shrug his shoulders and shake his head. 

‘What the kriff?’ Ezra mouthed at him. 

They made it to the Ghost, parked down the side of the cliff by the compound’s hanger, with no one harmed (anymore than they already were), and Kallus settled himself down in an open seat of the cockpit, shiv still tucked in his pocket and blood still staining, well, everything. The rest of the crew followed after, piling into the cockpit as they watched Hera masterfully guide the Ghost out of the atmosphere and into hyperspace. 

Then Kallus tugged up his pant leg, where a twisted piece of rebar was curled around and stuck into part of his calf. Grunting, he tugged it off, slowly pulling the metal from the meat of his leg. Tugging off his undershirt he staunched the bleeding that followed and twisted around to glance over at Kanan, who was closest.

“Think you could grab me the surgical glue?” Kallus asked.

“What the kriff?” Ezra said. And then the room devolved into shocked shouts and admonishments and heartfelt cursing and Kallus could only look on bemused.

“Can I please just have some surgical glue?” he asked again, unhelpfully. 

***

Haven't gotten a chance to write Kallus before this which is ridiculous 'cause he's my fav, but really enjoyed this short little blurb! Hopefully in the near future there will be more <3

Every day i yearn for a 5+1 crackfic where its 5 times the ghost crew realize that Kallus is just... a dude (and kind of a weird one at that.)

Im talking stuff like... bro is eating chips with tongs and Ezra nearly loses his fucking mind

Or he commits to a bit so hard that Sabine honestly cant tell if he's joking or not

Ir smth like he wont be caught dead wearing a hat. Helmets? Fine. Hats? Evil. Nobody knows why, and he refuses to explain, but tbh Kanan gets it.

And then the plus one is an instance in which theyre all reminded that, oh yeah, HES CRAZY WHYD WE FORGET THAT HES FUCKING INSANW

[aceinthefreakinspace]

Pride Month Asepc Headcanons Day 1

Oswald Cobblepot - Gotham (2014-19) - Asexual

We're kicking off Pride Month with Oz since I'm currently in the middle of my Gotham rewatch and I can't get this off my mind. It's more technically semi-canon, but I just had to include him.

Relatable moments:

Telling his mom he "doesn't date" due to aceness in an allo world + other outside factors just generally combining to not wanting to yet. Soon followed by, despite this, catching feelings for a friend and it ending with said friend getting a gf about the time feelings were to be confessed (my situation thankfully didn't end in murder. it actually just ended in nothing happening since I never said anything since no murder happened haha)

Queer mother-figure that helped in formative years (that is the only way my softball coach is like Fish tho lolll)

Wearing ace flag colors subconsciously literally all the time

Fed up with straight people's drama

I, too, would adopt a slightly violent child from an orphanage on my own (I love Martin so much)

[lucabyte]

Happy PMD Red is on NSO day. Sadly I don't think King the Skitty and Muse the Cyndaquil will be returning to finish up their adventure regardless.

[yiling-laozu-is-loml]

You know what's sad about Wei Wuxian's death? Its not that a bunch of people disliked him and said 'die bitch!'. No. The thing with Wei Wuxian was that he had to die. There was no other way.

Wei Wuxian was kind, selfless, paid his debts and favours as deserved, cared about people, used his skills and cultivation for good of as many as he could, didn't shy away from danger or back down in the face of injustice. He was, in short, the very definition of what a cultivator should be. And that's why he had to die.

If he lived, corruption would have decreased and ended over time. If he lived, civillians and younger cultivators would've realized their rights and how they shouldn't take bullshit from clans. If he lived, next generations would've realized that rules and traditions were just constraints set to keep them under strict control and from realizing they didn't need all those useless elders after all. The system would've changed, no one would've tolerated all this extortion, corruption, nepotism, power imbalance, crimes that were swept under the rug due to the committers being influential. Absolutely no one.

And all that would've been caused by the existence and actions of one man. Wei Wuxian.

So how do we deal with that? We nip the evil in the bud. First use his horrible treatment at the hands of Jiangs as a base to show that yes, he's bad, his martial family treated him that way and they know him best. Then cutting off his allies by skewing their perception about him and his intentions. Then by sowing fear into hearts of allies and civillians. And then leading a siege to cleanse the world of 'evil' so that their bullshit won't be discovered or put a stop to even centuries later. So that his end would serve as a warning to anyone who wishes to rise against evil and corruption, as an unspoken threat to anyone who cared for people and their duties for real.

And it worked. It worked spectacularly. Anyone defying the rules was punished, anyone saying anything similar to Wei Wuxian's? Anyone trying to do real good or anyone following in his path was deemed evil. Their torture and murder were never even acknowledged, yet the rumours were spread to discourage others from trying. Even people who didn't follow his footsteps and chose to be righteous of their own accord didn't live to see the results of their goodness (Nie Mingjue, Xiao Xingchen, Song Zichen etc) and if they did, no one found out and they were forgotten quickly (Mianmian).

It worked so well that every harm that befell on anyone, whether it was from the gods or from someone playing god and taking advantage, was attributed to the Yiling Laozu's evil ways. He was dead, yet everything that went wrong was his fault. Your marriage didnt work out? Wei Wuxian was behind this, I am sure. There was a flood that destroyed years worth of your hard work? Sounds like the Yiling Laozu. You had a cough because you ate something cold in the winter? Pretty sure the evil Wei Wuxian is behind it, he has various very evil tricks up his sleeve. That Monster!

He was all-powerful, a man who didn't bend to the whims of gods or wills of mortals. Someone who could defy everyone if he woke up in the mood to.

The propaganda and brainwashing worked so well that people never stopped to ask themselves the question: If Yiling Laozu was truly so powerful, how did he get defeated by a bunch of corpses? How did the Ghost General, his most powerful weapon, get killed by a few dozen cultivators?

And thinking of that is depressing as fuck because he died solely so the rich could get richer, the evil and corrupt could advance in their evil ways (Jin Guangyao, Xue Yang) and everyone could stay on their carefully curated bubble of bliss with none the wiser about their deception, manipulation and bullshit about bloodlines and traditions (Jiang Cheng, The Lans, Jin Guangshan, etc).

[turtleblogatlast]

I find it interesting that Leo tells Raph that Raph was Mikey’s age when he first went out alone because it’s fun to draw the conclusion that Donnie and Leo were not that age when they themselves first went outside.

Sure, they likely could have just ventured out at the same time as their brothers and Leo just chose to focus on Raph to make his point, but given Donnie and Leo’s respective personalities I can absolutely see them just leaving anyway at a much younger age.

[skitskatdacat63]

Misc lore drop day 3/?

Before and throughout Vettonso's marriage, Fernando is constantly making up paranoid escape plans or planning ways to fake his death. But Seb keeps unknowingly bringing him back from the brink, usually just by virtue of his honesty or earnestness, which Fernando has a reluctant soft spot for.

For example, before they take their actual wedding vows, after like a hundred random feasts and celebrations and such, Fernando is like: "Alberto. Here's the plan. You cause a distraction, and I'll escape in these monk robes I got smuggled in!" But at that very moment, he receives a missive from Seb, something along the lines of "I know we've had our struggles and disagreements up to this point, but I really think we can make this marriage work!" Fernando's just hitting the wall like, god damn it, I cannot resist this earnestness.

Fernando is like, I'll pretend to die while eating this dessert, and then I can escape! But then Seb is starry eyed eating his cake, like, "Good heavens, Fernando! Is this cake not immaculate! I do believe it is the best cake I hath ever sampled!" And he can't bring himself to ruin Seb's enjoyment 😔

[theflyingfeeling]

Olli has such big, sad Bambi eyes I don't know what to do with myselllffffffff 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[averygayplant]

The cool thing about my brother being blind as shit is that I can scroll through tumblr and shamelessly like and reblog and even draw and post Trolls fan art and he shall be none the wiser because we're still waiting for his glasses to come in

[softquietsteadylove]

Helloooo!! ✨🖤

I thought about something for the Zombie AU.

After Thena dragged Gil to the hospital they (Ajak and Sersi maybe) discovered Gil had an infection or something and he's out like a light for a few weeks, recovering. Meanwhile Thena insist to sit by his side but Ajak(?) insists that she has to recover too. Thena is dehydrated, starving and weak. One day she collapses and after they took care of her, they tied her to a bed so she finally can recover.

Hugs and Love ✨🖤

She had carried Gil all the way here to the hospital. People came out to help them, carried him in for her. She didn't have the strength to go after him.

When she had first woken up, she had managed to find her way to Gil's side again. An infection, they said--a rusty little cut on his finger or something trivial that she should have known about sooner. Supposedly he would pull through just fine, but she couldn't be as sure as they were.

Then she had collapsed.

"Please," Thena gulped, her throat still dry as a bone, "please, just let me see him."

The doctor kept working around her, checking on this and that.

"Please," Thena rasped again, determined to get them to listen to her if her vocal cords bled dry. "I have to see Gil."

"What you have to do is rest."

Thena pried her eyes more open. It wasn't the shorter doctor who seemed to be in charge of this place. This one was taller, younger--she was obviously also a doctor, but maybe worked for the other one. "What's your name?"

The doctor glared at her, walking a little more into the light that was shining down on Thena (despite the rest they so clearly believed she needed). "You want names now?"

Thena shrugged.

The doctor put her chart of whatever down and looked at her. "Do you remember how you got here?"

"You mean," Thena lifted her wrist--as much as she could, of course, with her wrists and ankles restrained. "Here?"

"What do you remember?"

Thena sighed, swallowing again. She raised her brows as the doctor came forward with a bottle of water, tipping it up for her to take a few well controlled sips. "Thank you."

She capped it again, nodding in a silent promise to offer more when she had her answers.

Thena cleared her throat and tugged faintly at the restraints again. They had a fair amount of slack on them, so they couldn't have thought she was that dangerous. "I...I remember getting Gil here. He'd had a fever for a week already, and I knew I had to get him where people were."

"He was severely dehydrated when you got in, had one hell of a fever and needed antibiotics for an infection," the doctor listed off. "You're lucky I worked in pharmacology. We got him what he needed, you know. He'll pull through."

That didn't do her any goddamn good if she couldn't see him with her own eyes.

"You collapsed."

Thena looked at the doctor again, who looked pissed at her, if anything. She shrugged again, "being out there isn't easy. It's-"

"You gave all your water to him--your food too, I imagine," Doctor Sassy hypothesized (correctly). She looked at Thena again, "you were just as exhausted as he was. You're restrained because you kept getting up to go see him and I found you collapsed in the hallway."

She couldn't sleep. She had been trying, and Doctor Crabby was right, she was exhausted. But unconsciousness only lasted so long, and when she was awake, she couldn't think of anything but Gil's well-being.

"I often couldn't sleep," Thena began, staring up at the hospital ceiling while offering what she could to Doctor Pissy, "out on the road. Gil and I...we found each other by accident. But we could stick together. I got used to having him around."

Doctor Stink-Eye actually softened at that, maybe able to relate to some part of it. She tilted her head at her, coming a little closer, "you can't relax without him here."

Thena didn't exactly confirm it--seemed like damning information to give these people she didn't entirely trust. She tilted her head on her pillow as the doctor came into the light. She had gentle eyes. "We had only each other out there."

Doctor Doe-Eyes nodded, offering a sympathetic little twitch of her lips. She had beauty marks. "My husband is part of the team who goes out for perimeter checks and supply runs, here. I worry about him out there. I can't imagine what it's like."

If she had to hazard a guess, Thena had to assume it was the tall and gruff sounding one with the accent she remembered from when Gil was carried inside.

"We mean no harm, truly," she tried to get through to Thena, leaning further over the bed. "I know it seems excessive, but staying stationary, having this many people here...it's a big risk when we take in new people. Even if they're seeking help."

Thena supposed she might understand that. Outsiders all had the same instinct for survival that people living with a certain amount of security simply didn't have. Or it wasn't as sharpened, at least. And they would have to be wary of those using the hospital's good will as a weakness and way to infiltrate their populace. "That's why I'm tied up?"

Doctor Huffy frowned and gave one of the restraints a tug. "No, you're tied up because I couldn't trust you not to get up and walk back to your husband in this state."

"He's not," Thena started and then stopped, coughing again. Her throat was still raw from going so long without water, only to then scream at the top of her lungs for help.

"Okay, okay," Doctor Softie soothed, tilting up more water for her. "Either way, I couldn't have you wandering around unattended. Ajak frowns upon it, for good reason."

Ajak must have been the shorter doctor Thena remembered on the other side of her when she was dragged in after Gil.

Thena swallowed more precious water before looking at the doctor. more awake, more hydrated, her eyes were clearer--the doctor was around her age, maybe a little younger. "What's your name?"

"Sersi." It was a very lovely name, for a lovely woman. "And you're Thena."

She bristled.

But Sersi gave her a more smug look, tipping her chin up, "Gil has awoken, you know--a few times."

Thena felt her eyes widen, a manic energy rushing through her veins, "he...and you didn't tell-!"

Sersi leaned away just enough, given the restraints. She pursed her lips, "it was never for very long, and he was still nearly delirious with fever."

Thena eyed the woman. Sersi may not have been out in the world like she was, but she obviously wasn't naive in any way. "So, why tell me?"

"I know your name because that's all he could say," Sersi raised her brows at her. "He would wake for a few minutes at a time, and yet we wouldn't even know his name was Gil if you hadn't said it. All he could get out was 'Thena', and 'where is Thena?', and 'I need to get back to her'. It's rather sweet, actually."

Thena laid (collapsed) against the pillow again, blinking as her tears collected in her eyelashes like morning dew on leaves. She could hear his voice in her head now, the sweet, gentle giant. She certainly wouldn't let anything stop her from trying to find him. Well, nothing but some leather restraints, that was to say.

"Nearly threw Kingo across the room in his hysteria," Sersi continued to mumble. "We had to use a sedative on him."

Thena squirmed. "He's not really a fighter--truly. He just...forgets how strong he really is sometimes. He didn't mean any harm."

Sersi smiled at her, maybe amused by her apologising for Gil's actions. "Ajak wants you separated, and for good reason."

Thena waited eagerly for the metaphorical 'but' to follow.

"But I might be able to convince her to let me move you into his room," Sersi didn't so much as promise but postulated. But she had to admit that the self-assured smirk on her face suited Doctor Snippy. "If you think you can behave."

Thena nodded eagerly, all but forgetting about her bound limbs, "anything."

Doctor Sersi nodded, getting ready to leave Thena for the rest of her nightly duties. She picked up the water bottle for one last offering, "can you tell me...?"

Thena merely waited. She had promised anything in exchange for seeing Gil again, as much as this didn't seem to be part of those conditions.

"He's not your husband," she concluded, even though Thena never actually verbalised her denial of it. "So then...what are you? If I may--I mean, what is he to you?"

Thena looked at Sersi. She could just tell her that this didn't seem like pertinent information for her to have, as their doctor. But she sighed, "everything. Gil is absolutely everything to me."

Sersi offered solemnity, tipping up the water for her, "I suppose you have no choice out-"

"No." Thena was almost as surprised as Sersi when she cut her off in the middle of speaking. But she continued, "it's not just that. He...Gil is good. Everything about him is right when the rest of the world is wrong. He's the best thing left in it, now, and I...I just want to protect that."

"I was an auditor, Sersi," she professed, the words all but spilling out of her like a broken water line. She sounded like Gil. "I worked a boring office job, had no life outside of it, didn't think of calling a single person when everything happened. I never did anything to put any good out into the world. But I can keep Gil in it."

Either she was astonished by Thena's speech, or she heard ones just like it all the time; either way, Sersi smiled. "Just a little longer, Thena. I promise, I'll do everything in my power to help you see him again."

Thena laid back, looking up at the ceiling again. Waiting was easier said than done, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter either. She did feel remotely better, having a potential ally in Doctor Sersi. She closed her eyes, hoping that next time she opened them, that she could see Gil.

[tchaikovskaya]

I could/should elaborate when I’m not falling asleep as I am rn but like. I feel like for the people who you “mourn” who have died young and/or suddenly who you knew only in passing, or only casually interacted with, or were once close to but in the years between then and their death you barely spoke, etc etc etc, you arent actually mourning them or their presence in ur life (and now palpable absence) (supposedly) but just what it means to be a human on earth who has to grapple with inevitable loss and the immense weight of what a Person is and their footprint on everyone they interact with that is fleeting even tho there are several billions of us on the floating rock but none of those billions of lifetimes are ever overlapping 100%…. sigh :/

[dylawas-reblogs]

One thing I do look forward to about in-person work for the first time in four and a half years, even if it's 28 miles of travel both ways right during the worst winter months, is I can't be my father's free Chore Servant when he's too busy (read: disorganized and lazy) to sort things before he leaves for the day

[moss-flesh]

I JUST GOT FUCKING JUMPSCARED BY GIDEON EMERY WHILE PLAYING SKYRIM WTF HES IN THIS TOO ????

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/723147826502254592/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“I’m sure you would’ve too,” Dorian smiled fondly, as he brushed away the tears pricking the corners of his eyes with his handkerchief. “She was an incredibly kind, incredibly gentle woman that I felt very honored to know, even for a short time. She was...very motherly to me as well when I was a boy.”

Oftentimes more than my own mother! he thought to himself wryly, as he began to recall stories from his youth to Emily (Randall briefly wondered if she’d heard these stories in the future when they were all dead, but it felt good to talk about his mother, and so he listened, chiming in here and there as well). While Mrs. Gracey was often away, having tea with her other wealthy friends (perhaps including Mrs. de Clair?) or just elsewhere in the house, June Pace was happy to keep an eye on her employer’s son (at least, when Beau couldn’t), always patient with the rambunctious Gracey boy (whose bountiful energy often rubbed off on her own son). She indulged his (many, many) questions and even showed him some of the finer points of gardening, allowing him to help her in her work, quickly enamoring him with the wonders of the world of horticulture.

“In fact, I credit her as being the one to get me invested in gardening,” he smiled, thinking of his bounteous conservatory, and all of its splendors. “We still maintain the beautiful rose bushes she planted-I see to that personally.”