#crying shaking throwing up

[he1ian]

once upon a witchlight ep 17 spoilers

i think about this scene. often.

[doublxpresso]

your wish is my command

[autisticrosewilson]

Willis probably had INSANE dad lore. His mom runs a crime school. He worked for Two Face. He has a secret agent and LADY SHIVA in his phone book. He knew her first name. He was the subject of prison experimentation. I could literally make up anything at all about his life and there would be merit to it. Once you get past the classist writing and mischaracterization Willis is such a simultaneously funny and tragic character.

He's no one. He's got some of the most dangerous people in the world on speed dial. He probably tells dad jokes. He has very likely killed people. He has a bat tattoo to commemorate a fight with Batman. He loved his wife and kid so much he was willing to die for them. He had his death faked, escaped prison, and then took up an identity his son stole from someone else (HE WAS SMART ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT JASON'S IDENTITY) and lured Jason back to Gotham. Jason still doesn't know Willis's identity. Willis is literally his bodyguard at the iceberg lounge.

[tylersayscool]

Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton

tell me how I hadn't seen this before????

[bellobambino]

[anhappyfangirl]

THEY'RE HERE!!!!!

[annepandesal]

watched venom the last dance yesterday and im still thinking about them. head in hands. my darlings.....OUHGHGGBGBG pain and suffering. venom "protecting you but making sure i kill myself in front of you to forever change the trajectory of your life" symbiote. fuck man 😭

[ismellbitches]

I’m ill over the albatrio so yall get my head canons. Some of these are a bit heavy and deal with abuse, trauma and similar themes. Maybe skip this one if you don’t feel up for it 🩷🩷

Jay:

- Kira was her bisexual awakening. They went on a summer camp together and kissed while on a hike. Neither of them have brought it up since.

- She has such bad anxiety bro. Like she is always using nervous energy to complete projects or to fight, but every few days she would just get paralysed by overwhelming anxiety and shut down. Once she shut down in front of chip, now he tries to help her in any way he can when she starts getting too worked up.

- she has a complicated relationship with gender. She’s explored a lot of different things gender wise, but doesn’t quite feel comfortable with any label she has found. She ended up talking to Jaz a bit about it when they were travelling together.

- She enjoys textile work and makes and mends most of her clothes

- She used to only be toned before her time on the Albatross, but she now has a much bulkier build.

- Her favourite subject was math

- She still has a fat crush on Anastasia

- she got a lip ring to match Chip

- She doesn’t like getting drunk around people because she thinks it makes her too honest.

Gillion:

- He loves physical touch. He used to receive so little of it in the Undersea that it is still very hard for him to iniate, but he will always lean into hugs or captain huddles like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

- Gillion is sex-repulsed. That’s it.

- He has a bad habit of digging his claws into the nearest person or object when he feels unsafe or ungrounded. There are so many deep gouges in the captains quarters from times where the ship would rock or he felt particularly unsafe.

- he doesn’t like to think. This one sounds weird but let me cook. It’s not for a lack of intelligence or that he doesn’t consider things deeply, it’s that when he thinks he tends to spiral, and when he spirals it is difficult for him to work. This is reflected in his reckless battle tactics, he has enough ambient knowledge to be a good tactician, but fighting is when he can fully allow instinct to take over. It makes him feel at ease.

- he has a mental list of the awful names his masters would call him. But, during his time in the Oversea, the mental list has been overwhelmed by pet names and compliments given by his fellow captains.

- Sunlight is harsh on his eye so he relies on Jay and Chip more in harsh daylight for perception and awareness.

- he likes to braid ropes, bracelets, hair. Anything he can idly do with his hands when he isn’t working

- he likes to speak Aquan with Jay. It makes him still feel connected to his home.

Chip:

- normally the instigator of any small fights between the captains. He’s so used to always having to be guarded it regularly comes as a point of conflict.

- the ice arena battle deeply wounded his trust is Gillion and Jay. He had just started to feel safe and as though he didn’t deserve to be hurt when he made mistakes, so he felt really betrayed and abandoned after the first ice arena battle. Part of him still isn’t over it.

- He’s sensitive. Reuben used to criticise how easily words and insults affected him, so he presents it a lot less than he used to. But slight criticism or irritation with him or insults really deflate his self worth.

- Chip has a complex about being the weakest link on the Albatross

- After the Black Sea, the thought of seeing Ollie in his undead state is so nauseating it makes him fall over

- The best hug he’d ever received was from Reuben. He was young, sick and hungry and it was storming fiercely on Skullslice. Reuben had held him tight and refused to let him go for the whole night, just hugging Chip while he cried.

- If he could choose any superpower, he’d want the ability to pause, rewind, or fast forward time. Also lasers.

- He has a stuffed animal in the bottom of his trunk that he’s owned since he was 4.

- It took him a long time to figure out how old he was. He didn’t know his birthday, so he ended up choosing one. He ended up picking the day Arlin has let him into the Black Rose

- He’s never tried chocolate.

- He finds Queen really pretty, but in like a platonic, gender-envy type beat

- he has a secret love for writing. He writes poetry, little stories and more, he keeps them buried at the bottom of his trunk because he’s scared of what the others will think if they see it.

- his love language is acts of service

- him, Gil and jay cuddle a lot. Don’t read into that weirdly, all the captains just really need a hug

- he holds people’s hands a lot. It’s unconscious and when he catches himself doing it he immediately stops, but Jay and Gil don’t mind.

- Gil was his gay awakening in the sense that he fell really hard for Gil as a person. But, Jaz was like huge for him because he was just like holy fuck this dude is so pretty what do I do the whole time they travelled together.

- La Alma is on his heart me out cake

[hawkeish]

just bought a kitten!!!!

[uhohbestie]

I can't believe Ren is playing on an RP/larp fantasy server and Martyn isn't THERE.

Lying face down in a ditch my heart is BREAKING.

[doublxpresso]

forgiveness

(from Courage of Stars by @mykingdomforapen)

[dennylachancerights]

What if I DIED (I’m calling it the ponybill fight me)

[ohmystaxk]

"Goodbye, Jayce."

follow me on my TikTok or my X for more future bangers @ohmystaxk

[phigelid]

husbands..... reunited at last....

[bellobambino]

'O Sole Mio'

?: After a few glasses of cheap Chianti, Luigi tells you a story. Nothing could have prepared you for its delivery.

1,080w

Author's Note: I don't have any words left after this, all i have is feelings and crying and ... im so gone for him. ive lost my mind. i dont know if this shit makes any sense but i was just about weeping writing it LOL

------------

It was the last golden gasp of summer at Seaside Heights, the kind of evening that feels like a postcard itself. The boardwalk was alive with the smell of fried dough and the sound of distant screaming children on rides powered by questionable engineering. Luigi and I had wedged ourselves into a corner table on the patio at some hole-in-the-wall Italian place.

We had ordered slices and “just a glass” of wine, which inevitably became, “Just bring us the bottle.” By the time I was three pours deep, Luigi had his legs stretched out like he owned the place.

His eyes, espresso-dark and shining under the cheap string lights of the boardwalk, were giving me that look. You know the one. Like he knew how good he looked in his half-buttoned linen shirt.

That’s when he suddenly froze, his head tilting to the side. He pointed upward. The music—some cheesy, dramatic Pavarotti knockoff that these Italian dives play to try and appear authentic. Then he smiled, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“What?” I asked, already laughing at whatever dumb thing he was about to say.

“Oh my God.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. No way.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.” I smacked his arm—rock solid.

He paused and sighed. “Okay, but promise me you won’t laugh.” He leaned in with a straight face that had me eagerly anticipating another highly entertaining Mangione story.

“I promise,” I lied.

“Alright.” He looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. I was melting for this man. Every moment with him felt important, filled with meaning. He could have said anything, and I’d lap it up like a dog. “So,” he started, rubbing his face like he was already regretting this.

“My mom used to play these mix CDs on the stereo at home. Pavarotti, Bocelli, all the classics, right? She’d be cooking, cleaning, just vibing to these… love songs.”

“Sure,” I said. Totally normal so far.

“But this song”—he pointed upwards again to the song playing on the patio speakers—“‘O Sole Mio,’ a total guilty pleasure for her. When it came on, she would lose her mind. Singing, swaying, dancing. And eight-year-old me sat there watching her, thinking, This must be the greatest song in the history of songs. So, Mother’s Day comes around…”

At this point, Luigi paused, biting his lip like he wasn’t sure he should continue. I couldn’t help the smile that possessed my face.

“Oh my God, Lu, what did you do?”

He waved me off, reaching for his wine. “No, nah, I can’t—”

“Finish the story, Luigi.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up. “I learned the song. Like, the whole song, okay? I watched every Pavarotti performance on YouTube at the time. Memorized the lyrics. Practiced in front of the mirror. And on Mother’s Day, I performed it for her.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. For her, my family, my cousins, neighbors. I’m pretty sure Pavarotti himself has sung for smaller audiences.”

I lost it. “You did not…” I said, breathless already. The image of little eight-year-old Luigi in my head, filled with love for his mama, singing an Italian love song in complete earnestness, was too hysterical to keep contained.

“I did,” he admitted. The music swelled in the restaurant, hitting that classic over-the-top crescendo, and Luigi—my God, this man—pushed back his chair and stood up.

“And now…” He slapped his hand on his puffed-up chest and lifted his chin.

“Luigi, NO.”

“I will sing it for you.”

And let me tell you, it was terrible.

He was hamming it up like some kind of opera drunk on karaoke night, his voice all over the place but somehow still deeply passionate, like he was singing to save Italy itself. People in the restaurant were staring. I was just as mortified as I was captivated. Tears were streaming down my face. Dying. And he didn’t stop. He didn’t care. He kept going—arms gesturing wildly, every crescendo perfectly wrong—and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

When he hit the final note—“O SOOOOLEEEEEE MIIIIOOOOOOO!”—he threw out his arms in a dramatic flourish, like he was expecting roses to rain down from the sky. I clapped so hard my palms hurt.

When he finished, he bowed. One or two other patrons gave half-hearted claps, probably just impressed by his dedication to the bit. His cheeks and ears were a delicious shade of pink, his smile lighting up his face as he moved his chair closer to me.

“You’re too much, Luigi,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

He finally sat down, our knees touching. He leaned towards me, and suddenly I was his only audience. “Do you know what the song means?” His voice was soft, so only I could hear. There was a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there before.

I shook my head.

“Okay, ‘O Sole Mio’—it means ‘My Sunshine.’ It’s about… someone being the light of your life. Like…” He shifted his weight, trying to find the words. “Like even the sun itself can’t hold a candle to the person you love.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed by the intensity, but too caught up in the moment to stop himself. “It’s like the artist was saying, ‘The world is so much brighter with you in it.’ The guy is completely wrecked over how beautiful life is because of this one person... you know?”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, gauging if any of this was resonating with me at all. His goofy bravado had melted into something almost painfully genuine and sincere.

This was real for him.

“I do know, Lu,” I said quietly.

He leaned back, taking his wine. He shrugged. “And that’s why I sang it for my mom.” He tried to downplay it, but I saw right through him. “Because she’s always been my sunshine. Always will be.”

My breath caught in my throat at that.

Then, he must have realized he’d gone too far into the serious zone. He snapped back to being playful. “Anyway, I fucking nailed that performance on Mother’s Day, and everyone talked about it for weeks after.”

I don’t know if he realized what he was doing to me. The lights sparkled brighter. The air tasted sweeter. And my heart was warmer. Because he was here. He was insane, but I wouldn't have him any other way.

The song made perfect sense. Life is a gift with you.

~~~

What a beautiful thing is a sunny day.

But another sun, even more beauteous, oh my sweetheart, My own sun, shines from your face This sun, my own sun, Shines from your face; It shines from your face

[dootznbootz]

It sucks when you wanna write a cunning character and that means you have to think up something cunning yourself