#i couldn't stop thinking about this

[minyard-05]

aaron and andrew meeting each other for the first time (real image)

[matronofdaggers]

[pauls-mescal]

#how to get pregnant

[galebucky]

#cinematic parallels

[the-bi-space-ace]

Lightweight Hunter headcanons

(you can thank @superiorsniper for putting this idea in my head... or maybe in @tbbs-best-hair case blame him. I couldn't stop thinking about it after this post)

One drink in and Hunter loses his bandana. I'm talking he doesn't even have to leave the table they're sitting at and somehow that bandana is gone.

There is always at least one of the batch keeping an eye on him at all times. Too many times they've left him on his own and come back to him dancing on a table.

Speaking of dancing.... reallllllly loves to dance when he drinks even if he isn't good at it lol. He always starts the night like 'oh it'll be a quiet one I'm only gonna have one drink then we'll go' and THIS MAN gets one drink in and is the object of everyone's attention on the dance floor.

He has confidence radiating from every inch of him and it is contagious.

He's a runner. He is slippery and will sneak away if their backs are turned. Not because he wants to escape them but he does what I do (oops) and needs to explore when he's had a few.

Yes they've had to chase him down. Yes Echo has had to tackle him to catch him. No he will not admit that he does this.

Is real touchy feely. That shoulder touch I love so much that he does? Oh turn that up by at least ten. He's leaning on someone at all times, arm around their shoulders, and asking for hugs.

Gets super sleepy towards the end of his buzz. They've got approximately ten minutes from the first time he yawns to get this man in a bed otherwise Wrecker is carrying him home.

That's all I've got for now but I am so genuinely delighted by the thought of Hunter not only being a lightweight but also being a menace so please have this gift <3<3

[saffron4new]

Picture this, Luca and Giullia stargazing/looking out for visible planets, frantically pointing the sky for stars and naming them and Alberto is just there naming weirdly shaped clouds

"That's orion."

"No it's literally over ther—"

"It's a banana."

[lallyloo]

[orangesunsets12]

I can't stop thinking about Steve, after learning to paint from Will (Steve literally has no hobbies, why wouldn't Will try to teach him to paint?), soon painting his nightmares, using a paintbrush as therapy. He keeps the paintings to himself, locked in a bedroom in his home that's never used, too ashamed of the art he made, of what nightmares he brought to life, of what they represented, all of the pain, suffering, and death. But he couldn't stop. For some strange reason, painting the demons and ghosts that he faced was so much easier than talking about them.

He painted everything he saw in his nightmares, his brush strokes realistic and so, so impactful. He painted Barb's lifeless eyes, her face pale, staring up at the moon, covered in water from his pool, the water shimmering over her waxy skin; a plate shattered on the ground, dripping with blood, covered in shadow, as if the one who broke the plate was standing right over him, his fist bared; Max hovering over a grave, the dying sun making her figure burn red, her hands lifted in the air, like a puppet on strings, a grey ground below her; bats flying in a tornado of wind, tails lifting up a small figure who's chest and feet were bare, his hands failing around, unable to escape; teeth biting into flesh, the red, oozing blood coating the skin like it was becoming one with it; Eddie's bloodied hands weakly gripping his spear and shield, the red lighting from the Upside Down reflecting in his empty eyes, his lips parted in a scream that was silenced.

Steve covered his paintings with spare bedsheets, hiding them from the sun and the eyes of others. It was something about him that he didn't want to share, that he wasn't ready to show. He knew that everyone would be breathless if they saw them, too shocked to speak, too horrified to breath, too scared to understand. But for Steve, his paintings allowed him to breath once again, to finally be free of the fear he always felt, if only for another night, and he knew that he couldn't stop, at least not until the nightmares were gone.

But the end didn't seem to be in sight, so Steve continued to paint.

[wannabeabogwitch]

If TWST Characters had a Pokemon team

These are just my personal views. I just feel like they fit well. Characters: Riddle, Trey, Leona, Azul, Jade, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Idia and Malleus

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/713150392829165568/if-twst-characters-had-pokemon-teams-part-2?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/714218918722535424/if-twst-characters-had-pokemon-part-3?source=share

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/wannabeabogwitch/713354988973342721/twisted-wonderland-masterlist?source=share

Riddle -

Roserade

Shaymin

Polteageist

Azumarill

Sirfech'd

Flamigo

Trey -

Daschbun

Alcremie

Arboliva

Appletun

Blissey

Noctowl

Leona -

Pyroar

Solgaleo

Pangoro

Slaking

Corviknight

Krookodile

Azul -

Octillery

Primarina

Empoleon

Toxapex

Mantine

Cetitan

Jade-

Breloom (Self explanatory)

Garganacl (He can use it for salt, that way he doesn't have to buy it to make food and Azul won't have to spend extra money)

Oinkalogne (They can help him scavenge truffles and mushrooms)

Toadscruel (Again, self explanatory. lol)

Toxicroak

Lantern

Kalim -

Togekiss

Yamper

Oshawott (Floyd calls him sea otter and I agree, he's like a cute sea otter, so Oshawott is perfect for his team. lol)

Copperajah

Slowking

Rabsca (It's a Scarab beetle, fitting for the dorm leader of Scarabia)

Jamil -

Seviper

Chatot (He wants a parrot, so this works. lol)

Liepard

Salazzle

Malamar

Sandaconda

Vil -

Mismagius

Florges

Espathra

Milotic

Sneasler

Hatterene

Idia -

Duskull

Porygon2

Togedemaru

Ceruledge

Toxtricity

Meowstic

Malleus -

Garchomp

Dragapult

Dialga

Hydreigon

Noivern

Rayquaza

[sibillascribbles08]

Wrote some nonsense between Jason and his dad last night. (Well not really nonsense actually, kind of emotional) So here's this for my like four friends who love Mr. Song

But uuuuh CW for some homophobic language (it's all from the past but still)

It’d been sitting in his mind for too long. 

His therapist took note of how much he fiddled with his necklace. While part of it was just nerves, Jason often found himself staring at the thing, at the engraving. He thought about the fact his father hung onto it for so long. He thought about what his father said when he gave it to him. 

“But then you um… didn’t want to see me.” 

Eventually he told his therapist about this, about why it bothered him. 

Sure Jason and his father cleared the air when he first moved in. Jason talked about how all his frustration rooted back to the custody case. That none of it had to do with his dad’s sexuality or lifestyle. And his father explained that sure, being out made him happy, but it wasn’t like he didn’t miss Jason that entire time. 

But guilt still sat in his chest. Because even if Jason’s rejection had been misinterpreted, it must have still hurt. 

“Well,” his therapist said. “You and your father seem to be able to talk about things pretty openly. Why not just ask him?” 

She made it sound so simple. But Jason couldn’t argue with that. 

So here he was, lingering outside his father’s room, listening to the man hum as he got out of his work clothes for the night. 

Jason really shouldn’t stand there in silence. “Good day at work?” 

His father squeaked out of surprise. “Jase! Good grief, at least walk in the doorway before scaring me.” 

“Only if you have pants on.” 

“Yes, yes, I changed my pants ages ago.” His father mumbled something else, but it was far too quiet to hear. 

Jason turned and walked into the bedroom. His father tugged on a baggy t-shirt and either attempted to fix his hair or make it messier. Hard to tell. 

“Here to talk dinner plans?” Mr. Song took off his glasses and wiped one of the lenses with his shirt. “As I recall this morning we were still torn on what to do with that beef.” 

Jason kept his hands in his pockets. “No it’s… not about dinner.” 

His father—ever vigilant on Jason’s shifts in moods—froze for a second. Then he put his glasses back on. “What’s up, kiddo?” 

Should he ask his dad to sit down? No, that may not even be necessary. “I…” He reached up to grab his pendant. “I wanted to talk about the um… those two years after I didn’t come and visit that week.” 

His father stared at him in silence, expression unreadable but eyes wide.

Then he gave a nervous laugh. “What? Talk about what?” 

Jason frowned. “Dad, you told me when you gave me this necklace—”

“I told you not to worry about it.” That awkward grin stayed on his face as he walked forward, aiming for the doorway. “It’s the past. Over and done with. I’ve moved on so you should too.” 

Jason glared and gave his dad a shove as he tried to walk past. 

The man stumbled and bumped into the door. “Ow! Jase, what—” 

“How am I supposed to move on?” He snapped. “How can I properly apologize if you don’t explain what I did wrong?”

Mr. Song sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Jason, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It’s not.” He threw his hands up. “I know why you did that now. I made a selfish decision and never apologized for it, so you thought—”

Jason raised his voice. “How could you have apologized for it when I never explained anything?” 

“But it makes sense why you thought I didn’t care.” 

“I did know you cared.”

His father crossed his arms. “You just thought I didn’t care enough.” 

Jason’s shoulders went rigid, and as his vision blurred he wiped away the tears. “Don’t change the subject. That’s not even the point here.” 

“Yes it is. Your feelings were justified, so you shouldn’t—” 

“Dad. Did I hurt you?” 

His father’s arms tightened and he looked away. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Jason could argue with that, but it’d be a useless approach. “That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if I hurt you.” 

“Jase—”

“Dad, please, be honest with me. Did I hurt you?” 

His father met his gaze again, eyes searching his for what felt like eternity. 

Finally, he sighed, “Yes.” 

Jason’s shoulder dropped. The tension left him, despite the tightness in his chest. He knew that’d be the answer, and yet hearing it still made him want to lean against the bathroom mirror and scream. 

His father, still so observant, spoke up again. “Look, as I said, you don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now and we talked about all that so it’s fine—” 

“It’s not fine.” 

“Jase, we don’t have to talk about this—”

“But I want to talk about it.” He clenched his fists. “Because I told you, I want to apologize. Properly. So… please tell me about it?” 

His father sighed and rubbed his temples as he began to pace back and forth. Eventually, he walked over to his bed and sat, hard enough that he bounced against the mattress. 

His hands dropped into his lap as he spoke, gaze on the ceiling. “When you first told me you were too busy to visit that week, I just let it roll off my back. I was a bit anxious about it, sure, because, you know, I noticed how the distance between us got worse and worse.” 

Jason crossed his arms, trying to ignore the nausea forming in his stomach. It didn’t work. He chose to sit on the floor. 

“It was just, you know, haha, okay, the kid is approaching his last year of high school. Must be prepping for college. Has that tech club he’s busy with.” Mr. Song forced a smile. “But then we uh, you know, had that conversation on your birthday.” 

Yeah. Jason remembered that. If he’d known then what he knew now he would have jumped at the chance to see his dad that evening. Not like his mom ever threw much of a celebration, and Kendra took the few good feelings he had and ground them into dirt. 

And he’d just been feeling so awful, and so alone, and then his dad calls to wish him a happy birthday and Jason had just—

“Birthday was going fine until you called.” 

Why had he even said that? Because he kept wondering why the father who seemingly left him for a night on the town kept on checking in? Or was it just for him to feel like he had some kind of power in his life for a measly few seconds because he didn’t have it anywhere else? 

That had been it, hadn’t it. He couldn’t hurt his mom, or Kendra, or his step-dad, so he hurt his father instead. 

Mr. Song tapped his knees together a few times. “I still don’t know what I said that upset you so much but—”

“You didn’t.” Jason mumbled. 

“Huh?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He repeated his father’s words. “I was just having an awful day and I took it out on you.” 

“Oh,” his dad’s voice got so quiet. “I see.” 

Jason pressed his lips together, forcing back tears. “Dad, I—”

His father held out a hand—signaling him to stop—still not looking at him. “It was… after that conversation that I figured you really must not want anything to do with me anymore.” 

Jason wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t. 

“And, you know, at the time I figured it was because I was a raging bisexual. I… already had to go through my parents disowning me because of it, and then losing that custody case, and then you—” His voice cracked and he was quick to hide his eyes.

Jason moved to get up, but once again his father signaled him to stop. 

The man took a few deep breaths, head tilted back. “And it’s like, well, what do you do?” He gave a hollow laugh and shrugged. “You finally decide to be the person you want to be. You can’t help it if your family hates you for it.”

“Dad—”

“No, no, let me finish. You asked me to tell you about it, so let me finish.” 

Jason bit his lip this time. 

“Yes, it hurt.” Mr Song’s nails dug into his knees as he continued, staring at his hands all the while. “I was devastated, actually. Like my whole world was falling out from under me again. Like it had when I first lost that court case because I decided to do something for myself for the first time in years. Just because some asshole got it on film, I get told to my face that I’m not suited to be a parent. I’m too much of a degenerate to take care of the thing I love most in this world.”

Jason flinched. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I’m not.” His father finally looked at him, glaring. “Those were things said to me. By your mother, the judge, your mother’s stupid boyfriend, and even my own parents. I just didn’t believe it until I thought you never wanted to see me again.” 

A new wave of guilt crashed into him, and so did the nausea. Jason had to actually cover his mouth before he puked on the floor. 

“Jase?” His father slid off the bed to kneel in front of him. “Hey? You okay? Sorry I… I’m getting too heated about this.”

Jason shook his head. “No. I asked you to tell me.” 

“Sure but… ugh let’s just move on.” Mr. Song rubbed the back of his neck. “My friends and partners kept me afloat at the time. Reminded me that, you know, the most important thing was if you were happy or not. But even then I… I didn’t want to cling to any more hope. That’s when I tossed out everything in the spare room.” 

Ah. Jason knew his dad cleaned it out. It was obvious as soon as he arrived here. Somehow he just didn’t think the circumstances were that abysmal. “I guess that also explains why you were so shocked when I asked to come here.”

His dad gave off a nervous laugh. “Aha, yeah.” 

“But you still sent me those cards.” 

“Well, of course.” Mr. Song’s hand slid from his neck down to his lap. “Even if you didn’t want to see me again, or even hear my voice, I still wanted you to know I was always thinking about you. That I’d always love you, even if you didn’t love me back.” 

“I do love you.” Jason sputtered, once again wiping his eyes. “And I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry. I was being such an idiot and—”

“Hey,” his dad gave him a soft smile. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

His own words being repeated back to him at least stopped his crying. “Fine, but I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just told you years ago why I was so upset with you, then maybe we could have—”

“Jase, I told you before. Time wasted is time wasted. Don’t waste more of it.” 

Yeah, no kidding. Jason scooted himself forward so he could pull his dad into a tight hug. 

His father hugged him back, somehow even tighter. “It did hurt, Jase, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now, and I get to tell you I love you every night and I’m never going to get sick of it. Because I love you.” 

“I know, Dad.” Jason took a deep breath. “I love you too.” 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing. Jason ignored the pain of his glasses digging into his nose, because fixing it would mean letting go and he didn’t want to do that. 

His father eventually broke the silence with a hum. “How come our emotional conversations keep ending with us sitting on the floor?” 

Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, not all of them.” 

“Enough that I can see the pattern. We can’t keep doing this. Don’t you know I’m getting old?” 

“You’re not even fifty.” 

“Tell that to my knees.”

Jason scoffed. “Pretty sure what happened to your knees is not an age issue.” 

There was a pause. Jason leaned back to look at his father who stared at him in surprise.

“Uh, sorry, that was probably—”

His father laughed. “Oh listen to you, you little shit.” He playfully pinched one of Jason’s ears. 

Jason swatted his hand away, trying not to laugh. “Dad—” 

“I can’t even say you’re wrong. I really do test the endurance of these babies some days when I—”

“I don’t want the details.” He shouted, but kept smiling as he stood. “Good talk, Dad. Conversation over.” 

His father shook his head as he smiled. “Sure, sure. New subject then, what are the dinner plans?”

[metatheatre]

[prince-jelli-fish]

hello tma fandom i finished season one

[firawren]

They both like solitude. It's the way they met in the first place, and the whole reason why he wants the job. But the lighthouse owner won't let him have it without a wife to keep him company out there, no matter how much he tells them he doesn't need one.

He finds her at the tide pools below the cliff, where he always does. She's never happy to be found, and she's definitely not happy with his idea that they get married. But he explains in his quiet patient way that it won't be real, just a way for them both to have their solitude. She'll be able to devote all her time to studying those little sea creatures she likes so much, without having to worry about meeting her father's expectations for cooking and taking care of the mean old man's house. The lighthouse keeper won't ask that of her. He'd rather do it himself. He likes his solitude after all.

The first couple months of their marriage are fine. They stay out of each other's way. There's a little room, probably meant as a nursery, that she stays in. He calls her Salty, because of how she's always crusted in it from working out at the tide pools, and because of the less-than-demure way she speaks to him. She doesn't call him anything.

When the rain starts in the fall, they're suddenly stuck in the tiny house together a lot. He plays guitar and sings to himself. It's not so bad being stuck with him then. She wonders if he did this during the summertime too, and she just never was around to see it. She wonders what else she's been missing.

He's up all night during the first really big storm, fighting to keep the light going. When he stumbles back into the house at dawn, soaked and shaking so hard his teeth clack together, she's already awake and has a big fire going and hot coffee made. She doesn't tell him that she stayed up all night too.

Turns out nights like this aren't that unusual at the lighthouse. He doesn't complain. It's the job. But one frigid morning, even the fire and the coffee can't seem to warm him up again. Salty comes into his bedroom complaining that she can hear him shivering from out in the living room and climbs under the blankets and wraps her body around him tight. They don't talk, and he soon stops shivering, and she leaves.

That night, she barges back into his room, complaining about having to make sure he's still warm enough. He doesn't protest when she wraps him up again. He doesn't protest when she's still there in the morning, looking so peaceful in her sleep.

The next night, she doesn't even make an excuse, just comes in again, giving him a look that he knows means don't you dare say anything. He obeys.

The night after that, he's the one who wraps her up in his arms.

It's easy to finally kiss one night when it's so dark in the bed they can't even see the other's nose in front of them. It's easy to keep kissing until the kisses become so much more, until they're both wrapped up in each other.

It's still a long time before they kiss in the day, in the light. That feels like crossing the final line. Neither one of them know if the other one wants it. They both like their solitude, after all, and they're not big on talking, especially the lighthouse keeper. Salty would say that it's the fault of the first warmth of spring and the stupid sunshine that makes her go silly and grab his shirt and kiss him while he's planting their little garden. But she's smiling at him when they finish the kiss, dirt on her cheeks from his hands, salt in her wild hair, and he's sure he looks just as flushed and undone and luminously happy as she does.

Apparently back in the day lighthouse keepers HAD to have a wife to get the job so they wouldn’t be too lonely and go insane. So what I’m saying is

Fake dating au where they pretend to be married so one of them can get a job as a lighthouse keeper.

[kensatou]

MONKEY MAN (2024)

[pidgydraws]

🌿 "fields of dreamless solitude" 🌿

[batbabydamian]

*you opening the love letter* what does your damijon look like, pls pls pls pls pls pls pls, i know it would be so cute, i just know it 🙏🙏🙏

here you go! thank you for the ask, this was a lot of fun to do! they're working on a case together ^^