#he'd be hung

[brainrotcharacters]

makes me giggle to think of X2 Logan meeting dp&w Logan when this is a thing

[mobius-m-mobius]

#no one's getting the memo 😅

[toshidou]

don't mind me, i'll just be sat here crying into my hands about girl dad!simon "ghost" riley who would do absolutely anything for his daughters.

girl dad!simon who watches with a fond smile as his children fail to mask their giggles from underneath the sofa, their little legs sticking out very obviously from their "hiding place" but acting as though they're nowhere to be found.

girl dad!simon who lets them apply the black smudging around his eyes, praising them with how gentle they're being, and only huffing out a laugh when he feels his youngest smear charcoal fingerprints down his cheeks.

girl dad!simon who always has time to play with his girls, going along with whatever game their imaginative minds conjure with not a single complaint. over the years, you've walking in on simon as a horse, a robot, a fairy godmother (you will never get the imagine of simon with one of your elasticated waist dresses on out of your head, the material fighting for its life to stay in one piece as simon merely stares at you, silently pleading you to not take any photos), there is nothing he won't do to make them happy.

girl dad!simon who never once hesitates to scoop them into his arms at the first sign of tears, battled scared and inked hands holding his daughter so carefully, though she was made of porcelain, rough fingers gently swiping across ruddy cheeks, "you're okay, sweetpea, it's just a little scrape, yeah? my brave girl can handle a tiny scratch like that no problem, ain't that right?"

girl dad!simon who has a photo of you and your daughters tucked safely in his pocket at all times, all his favourite people on one small piece of paper he keeps safe over his heart whenever he has to leave, making sure it never leaves his mind that 'this is who he's fighting for, this is who he's working so hard to get back to'

girl dad!simon who try as he might, always tears up when he finally arrives back, and hears his little worlds sprinting at him as fast as their stubby legs can carry them, screeching cries of "daddy, daddy, daddy's home!" echoing through the walls of his home, arms wide as he crouches on the floor and feels their small but mighty weight crash into him, finally whole, finally complete, watery eyes meeting yours where you lean against the wall, similarly emotional.

"welcome home, si."

finally, home.

[feniksido]

For when we rule together, as The Absolute

I guess we never got to do that, huh?

[introspectivememories]

timbern interconnected fates but not like by chance but like bernard wrestling with destiny to make sure he gets to have tim in his life

[theghostofpyke]

another interesting interview on outsiders in ASOIAF; reposting the transcript:

Interviewer: Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf character in asoiaf, he probably is one of everybody's favourite characters and he has this really memorable moment where he says: "I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things". Many, so many-- some of your characters are these outsiders, they are different or they are disabled in some way, and they seem to be the only characters that are capable of true compassion, and yet they seem to suffer for it-- is this something you are conscious of doing, George, when writing the book?" GRRM: Yeah, definitely, I mean, I have a large caste of viewpoint characters, but, for the most part they all have something that makes them a bit of an outcast, you know. Tyrion is a dwarf. Jon Snow is a bastard. Dany, who is beautiful, is a penniless exile who's being essentially sold off into marriage. Arya is born to a noble house, but she's kind of this wild child where she doesn't conform to her proper gender role. Brienne of Tarth even more doesn't conform to her proper gender roles and because of that she suffers a lot of scorn and rejection because she is not a proper woman in the terms of her society. Uh, Sam Tarly is fat and bookish, when a lord is expected to be warlike and strong and fierce and good with a sword and Sam would rather read and dance and listen to music and so he suffers a lot of rejection and I could go on and on, but--" Interviewer (interrupting): All of these people have this honour code, within themselves, that they almost need to hide-- and that seems to make life even more difficult for them-- GRRM (interrupting back): Even a character like Theon Greyjoy, who's not a character that a lot of people are fond of, because he's a weak character-- I mean he's physically strong, he's very skilled with a bow, he's a good warrior, but he's a character who is suffering a lot of confusion about his place in the world. Cause, you know, he's born of a noble family, but his father rised in rebellion, and his elder brothers were killed in that rebellion, and he was handed over as a hostage at the end. Theoretically a "ward" they called it, but still a hostage. If his father creates trouble, he's to be hung, you know, so. That was a frequent practice in the middle ages, when you didn't really trust one of your underlords, or enemy who had bent the knee, you took some of his children as "wards", or hostages, and, uh--- So he's a Greyjoy by birth, and by some standards he's the heir to the Iron Islands, but he's been raised in the household of Eddard Stark and there's part of him who, you know, he has these two fathers looming over him, neither one who he can ever quite please. And he's desperate to find his place in the world, as one or the other, but from that confusion a great drama arises! I mean, you know, I think the best fiction, the best stories, arise out of conflict. I've always taken as my mantra, Willian Faulkner's nobel price acceptance speech where he said: The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

In another universe Christine and Erik skipped town and they live happily together raising Gustave...

[ask-father-garcia]

How do you feel about the demon that is currently INSIDE your fridge

Self explanatory.

[anartificialsatellite]

Guys? The rain is hard? Is it supposed to be hard?

[muzzlemouths]

oooh!! okay since I read chapter 2 of DMD!! who made the clothes specifically for Sun and Moon?

Like I’m guessing they both can repair them and tailor them considering Sun has that skill. But like their body proportions would need to have a specialized pattern for them and so they would need someone with that access to fabric and patterns and skills- what I’m getting at is was there a human fashion designer that they worked with? And if so I wonder where that person is now..

They absolutely had their own fashion designer! Though it wasn't as fantastical as the name might suggest. The mall hired someone to come in and make custom fitted replicas of several articles of clothing already sold at the mall — this was done in hopes of boosting sales, wherein the boys were essentially used as walking mannequins. Up until a certain point, the only unique outfits either of them owned were their original Opening Day jackets.

This all changed when their old tailor upped her prices and was promptly let go. It was Gwendolyn (mentioned first here) that eventually took over as their lead designer, and because she was already good friends with Sun and Moon she did work through some loop holes, such as asking for their opinion on colors, buttons, or accessories, in order to help make the clothes uniquely their own.

Gwendolyn is also who designed their famous roller disco outfits!

[itsscottiesstark]

Okay but if season 3 doesn't include Crowley drunk in love singing "I was born to love you" by Queen to Aziraphale WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT

[softquietsteadylove]

Hiii darling, how are you?

I had a promt idea and i wanted to share it with you.

What about thenamesh being broken up 😈.

Like i know thats basically imposible because they can not be apart from each other for a long time ( but relationships are hard you know).

So they haven't seen each other in a very long time, and they completely over one another, they even dated other people, but both are currently single.

They are completely over each other, Gilgamesh is NOT constantly thinking about Thena's beautiful sunshine hair, or how smarth she was or her gorgeous long legs he could stare at all day long of course not, and is not like Thena everyday thinks about how charming Gilgamesh was, or how he could make her feel better just saying something dumb or how she got distracted just by looking at those big and strong arms of his, not at all they are soo over each other and they don't even wanna meet again.

But when they do see each other again it goes like this:

- Thena and Gil walking directly to each other whitout realising.

They make eyecontact and fully stop

They stare at each other intensely

Gil : Thena hello ! - dumb smile

Thena : Hello - small blush

The tension in the air can be cut with a butter knife

"Mamma mia" by ABBA starst playing in the background

And thats about it 😊, sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language, and thank you for sharing your works with us they are so beautiful, i love them all, they make my days better 🩷🤍.

"Come on, Gil, don't get all emo on us now!"

But he'd had enough--more than enough. He had only agreed to a night out with the boys because he had dodged them ten times for every one, and tonight was the eleventh hour. Even with all that, it wasn't enough to keep him in the pub with pounding music and the stink of smoke.

Thena hated the smell of smoke.

His friends would tell him not to think that way. For all the times he had sworn to them that he was over her, here he was thinking of her again?

But of course he was! Thinking about Thena was as natural to him as breathing, and the breakup had done nothing to change that. It still felt almost surreal sometimes, as if the last year and a half of his life was still in the haze of post-breakup blues. All the months spent moping around his apartment, the weeks after of being set up with blank face after blank face. He had even maintained a relationship eventually, only to have called her 'Thena' one time (entirely by accident).

He had omitted that part of the story to his friends when they asked 'what happened to what's-her-name?'.

Gil had tried the dating thing, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that it wasn't working for him. If it wasn't Thena, it wasn't for him. And that didn't bode well, considering they had parted ways with the stark promise that there would be no getting back together.

No regrets, they had said. He was going to put the hours into the kitchen that he needed to as the new head chef of a long established restaurant. Thena was going to focus her razor sharp intellect into pursuing her PHD while working at the museum. He had once called her the 'rock star' of the historical world. She hadn't appreciated it at the time.

For their shared declaration of no regrets, there were plenty. He had lamented to his friends how he hadn't expressed enough interest in Thena's work. He didn't watch the historical programs she liked to watch in bed; he fell asleep to them. Although in his defense, Thena never could get through a boxing match without checking a work email or swearing she was paying attention while she read something on her phone.

Thena was on the other side of town, in Sersi's old flat after she and Dane had decided to finally move in together. She had always done best with her own space, after all. Yet another regret; their half-assed compromise - which made neither of them happy - on how to use the second bedroom. Gil wanted a home gym and Thena wanted a home office. It ended up housing his exercise equipment cramped in with all the books she couldn't fit onto the living room shelves.

It was the truest compromise, in the sense that they were both left frustrated and unsatisfied by the results.

Really, it was them making old fights into new ones. He knew she liked having her own space. Anyone would, after growing up with an annoying twin brother like Ikaris their whole life, he could admit. But he hadn't really appreciated her bringing up that he was an only child as a reason for him not sympathising with her more.

It was little things, really. Little things that had just...piled up on them. Him kicking his shoes off hastily, forgetting that Thena had grown up in a preparatory school and liked everything arranged neatly. Her leaving her teabags piled up in the garbage instead of in the organic waste container he kept in the fridge, specifically because the kitchen was his domain and he didn't like unwanted smells hovering around.

Little things piling up; it was for the best, they had agreed.

And now, a year and a half later, here he was, outside a pub, in the snow. He checked his phone; the night was young, but his friends were enough pints in that maybe they wouldn't notice if he decided to just...leave. If they asked, he could say it was way later, they just weren't remembering it right.

He walked slowly, still staring at his phone. It was the blank, default phone background. He hadn't settled on a new one after needing to take down the picture of him and Thena on their trip to Australia. It wasn't any more pathetic than the rest of his life.

"Sorry," a soft voice uttered, scuffling feet in snow filling the air as they narrowly avoided one another.

Her eyes rose to meet his, still a sparkling green that contrasted the hair that was the colour of pure sunshine. She was dressed in all white, as she always was. He had always said it was her colour. "Hey."

The one word was like the cavalry call. Memories flowed through him. Some of the bad times. But the happy ones far, far outweighed them. There were so many happy ones it was a wonder they had ever decided they weren't worth the bad.

Thena was still the most beautiful woman Gil had ever seen. Her edges were so sharp, and yet she still possessed a softness--a fragility to her delicate frame. It was hard to tell under her long white coat if she looked different, but he remembered those long legs entwined with his in the hammock on their balcony. Her lips were still full and succulent like a berry.

"Hey." He smiled, and she smiled as well. There was a lightness to it that hadn't been there when she had left her key with him and closed the door behind her. "How are you?"

"Good," she answered plainly, as she always had. Her eyes darted down to the ground and she tucked some hair behind her ear, still a clear tell of when she was nervous. His heart skipped a beat as he caught a blush in her cheeks. "And you?"

"Yeah," he answered, not that it was much of an answer. He had yet to stop smiling, but she was still smiling too. "Restaurant's doing well--same old."

Thena nodded, some of her hair tumbling from her scarf wound loosely around her. "I read a review of it. Your praises were sung most eloquently."

She had such a poetry to her language. Some found it odd, but Gil had always admired her more elegant word choice in comparison to his easy and casual phrases. He had tried writing poetry, but he was no match for her simply describing how her day was.

"Yeah?" he grinned. The idea of her checking a review of his work was more than he could have hoped for. It felt like hearing that she had asked if he was seeing anyone.

"I'm not surprised," she stated more than confessed. "You have always been an excellent chef. I wouldn't have needed some culinary reporter to tell me that."

Emboldened by her olive branch, Gil stepped closer. "And how's the doctorate?"

Her pleased smile returned, her scarf even picking up in the wind and brushing the front of his army green jacket. She used to always put her hand on his chest for no good reason, whenever she wanted. "I'll be submitting by the end of this year. Nothing is signed yet, but I'm told things look promising."

His grin stretched wider. The word 'rock star' was on his tongue again but he inhaled, drawing up his shouldering instead of wrapping his arms around her and picking her up off the ground. "Hey, that's great! I mean, I knew you'd get it. You're way too good not to."

Thena's eyes drifted downward again. Her smile turned shaky and her hands went to the buttons of her coat. She swayed on the spot, as if unsure of which direction to lean. "Thanks, Gil."

The snow filled in the silence between them, Mamma Mia positively blaring from inside the pub. The flashing, coloured lights inside proved stronger than the tint of the windows, reflecting on the snow already fallen.

Thena broke the silence first. "I'm surprised you're out this late."

Once, that might have been a barb about how he always had to sleep early to get into the restaurant early (especially on nights when she had a work social at the museum). But that was years ago, and now it was a casual - if nervous - question asked in a playful tone.

Gil smiled. "Well, usually I wouldn't. But the guys have really started giving me a hard time about-"

He clamped his mouth shut, suddenly terrified of uttering the truth of his dismal life since her exit. Surely it was pathetic of him to tell his ex-girlfriend about how all he did was lie around watching the same five shows and living almost completely off of leftovers from work.

But Thena laughed. It was gentle, and light, and he still found it really cute. "So, you came out tonight just to appease them?"

Her laughter drew out his as well. His shoulders lowered and his hands shuffled around in his pockets. "Guess so."

Thena looked towards the dark glass of the windows. It took her a few minutes to build up to what she had to say. But rather than eagerly rush her, he waited, happy to admire her. "I have become even less social than before, if you can believe it."

"Wow," he commented outright, earning the mildest form of her glare possible. He chuckled, though. "I can't believe it."

She could have left it there if she wanted. But she kept holding her scarf at the ends, braving on. "It seems I've been a bit reclusive since..."

It was Thena to bridge the unspoken gap, utter those completely forbidden words. But in that way, it was also her extending her hand, asking him to take it.

Gil turned soft, as he always did with her. His voice lowered to nearly a whisper, like it would after she'd had a night terror and needed comforting. "I guess I have too."

She had closed the distance as much as she could. She needed more from him, going quiet again and staring into his chest.

Gil eagerly met her halfway, pulling his hands from his pockets and crushing her against him. It was just a hug, something friends could do (if she decided she would regret this, too). "I missed you."

But she slid her arms around him. She buried her nose in his jacket and he leaned over her, practically engulfing her in his arms. She inhaled, drinking in the scent of him.

"Sorry, I probably smell like fryer oil," he excused. She had always hated that smell.

She shook her head, still buried in him. "I missed it."

How was he not supposed to fall in love with her all over again?

"Hey," he said gently, only encouraging her to pull away enough to look at him. He brushed some hair from the crown of her head. "Would you wanna grab something? We could get a decaf...something--you still don't drink, right?"

Thena beamed as if he had asked her something so much more than just terrible coffee. But small things - like remembering that she didn't really enjoy drinking - always meant the most to her. "I'd love to."

Just hearing the word from her lips made his heart leap in joy. It remembered hearing that word so often from her. It wanted to hear it again.

"So, uh," Gil began, leading her away from the pub with her hand in his. Maybe it was too much to hold hands with someone he had just asked out, but Thena's hand held onto his just as firmly. "That 24 hour place is still open. I heard they have daily specials now."

"Sounds lovely." She hadn't become a conversationalist. But she held onto his hand, letting him go on about the pastries in the window and how it was under new ownership. He didn't mention how he couldn't even look at the place for the first two months after their breakup.

Gil looked at her but didn't stop walking as she leaned against him. "You okay? We don't have to go out, if you're tired. You can just come over and I can make you some tea."

She buried her face in his sleeve. "You think I'm the type to go home with you on the first night we've met?"

He paused for a second before letting out a laugh that would wake anyone out of a dead sleep. "Are you flirting with me?"

"You seem much more the flirtatious type."

Thena was happy to play coy about it, but he knew she was flirting because she was terrible at it when they'd first started dating. "Maybe I am."

"You could take a girl to dinner, first." It was light, witty banter, her favourite kind. She was relaxing more and more.

"How's tomorrow?"

He waited for her response, only able to look at the top of her head with her leaning on him. But it made him think of the beach in Australia when he had first told her he loved her. He had thought it plenty of times before, but that was the first time he had spoken the words. Maybe he would get the chance to say them again.

Thena adjusted their arms, linking them at the elbows, still revealing nothing of her expression as she said, "it's a date."

[wildflowercryptid]

florian's such a nice kid who has such a kind heart and tries his best to not hurt ppl he cares about— *shoves what happened between him and ortega behind my back* ignore that.

[dandelion-wings]

Even now, though, [Jean] doesn't quite drift off, though he sees her jerk once as if she's come close. Her eyes open long enough to catch his, then drift up to catch sight of Lisa behind him, before she closes them again content in the knowledge that she knows where both of them are. With neither of them in a position to see, Kaeya doesn't try to keep the smile off his face.

As Jean's knot starts to go down, Lisa pulls away, unthinkingly pressing a kiss to Kaeya's shoulder before, it seems, she registers who's in front of her and leans over him to bestow another on Jean's cheek.

"Anything in particular you want for dinner, cutie?"

After a beat of silence that makes him wonder if she's actually fallen asleep this time, Jean opens her eyes again. "Kaeya?"

"I'm not picky," and, when Jean starts to frown, "or hungry, but I'll eat whatever you make. I know better than disobey where your potions are concerned."

"Smart boy. I'll see if I can't think of something to tempt you with."

The degree to which Kaeya fails to recognize that Lisa is very affectionately digging a Boyfriend Pit Trap under him while he's not looking (Jean makes such an excellent distraction) is one of my favorite self-indulgent features of this fic. :>c

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

me at 7:30pm: *watches Simple Explanation*

me at 1am: Kutner didn't have a fucking dog *projects onto Thirteen and writes the fix-it*

[ardensregias]

mmm sunday commissioning someone to make a music box as a gift for you BUT the dancing couple looks waaay too much like you and himself