#nor does anything else

[awetistic-things]

i love learning but school is really ruining that for me

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[solargeist]

for over a week now i keep thinking abt grian and kid xelqua. something abt him taking care of this alternate universe child version of himself. i just stare at the ceiling and my eyes blur

[trans-cuchulainn]

i don't want to be they/them in the sense of Third Gender, Other Category, i want to be they/them like the anonymous author of a medieval text will be they/them

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

What’s your favorite bit of lore? Or favorite holiday/festival in genshin they’re pretty neat

i'm absolutely biased towards lantern rite tbh

as for bit of lore, i'm not really sure. i feel like 'bit of lore' is really weird to define, bc ultimately most lore is all connected into bigger pictures. obviously i'm partial towards liyue lore in general, but as for a specific little bit...

probably still the possibility that zhongli is partial to archery.

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”

[stizzysupremacy]

…

[trainingdummyrabbit]

goodmoooorning. i dont have the post on hand (you know the one,) but i think my proudest achievement this year is simply Surviving. with any luck, ill survive next year too. hope you guys will be there to see it with me.

[anonymous-tals]

Part of why Gob has such strange/unconventional methods of caring or seeking comfort is that he isn’t good with words and he doesn’t really know how to get across how much he cares or what he needs using them. Those gestures (dedicated performances, hugging really hard, etc) are how he communicates. To others, they’re overzealous, bizarre and incomprehensible but to Gob, they make perfect sense.

We pretty much only see him act this way with Michael but I think he’d be this way with most everyone if it wasn’t for pressures to fit in and Michael being the only one to tolerate it. Cause in certain more vulnerable moments where Michael isn’t involved or nearby, we do see him act like that with other family members, so it’s not as if he wouldn’t show he cares or seek comfort that way with others. Outside of those moments, he rarely even hugs anyone else, even at a normal intensity, unless the other person initiates it first, and that’s because Michael is the only one he can trust to be “weird” around with comparatively little judgment.

A specific hc I have is that, when he was a little kid, he would show he loved and cared for someone(anyone who was even the slightest bit nice to him) by crashing into them at full speed. But he would get in trouble for this kind of behavior and even outside of that, other kids and people in general would not get what he’s trying to do, and people wouldn’t want to be subjected to even the tamer stuff, his family especially. Which, again, is why we pretty much only ever see him act this way with Michael. Michael doesn’t really get it more than anyone else but it’s his job to keep the family together and having to put up with tasting the sad or happy, or having to listen to the song Gob dedicated to him is just a part of Gob’s maintenance.

[commander-gloryforge]

.

[justinefrischmanngf]

it’s not that it makes me sad per se but i really could’ve been dating someone i did actually kind of really want to date since JULY. and now the moment is literally so far gone and i didn’t realise until the moment was so far gone !!!

[thefabelmans2022]

been wondering why we go through bread so fast until i caught my brother making a sandwich using four slices of bread??????

[slavicafire]

what a pathethic little thought - how dare I look down upon this, how dare I wince and loathe it? so what if all those years ago, this heavy burdened decade, had she told she wanted to marry - so what if I would have given her a silver dagger back then, or a dark capricious gem, or the deepest perfume of the earth, while now all I can do is share this evening with strangers as they shower her with things I deem, impurely and unfairly, invaluable? 

how dare I pity them and pity her, how dare I boil at the kitsch simplicity of the plans and the gifts if that is what she desires? I have no right to judge or belittle, no right to feel, frankly, any sort of way, just because this memory - of a dagger or some other profound darkness, pretentious and turmoiled as I see myself to be - clashes now with spa vouchers and pink plastic garters and cock-shaped glasses. 

they’re not less worthy - they’re just less mine. as she’s less mine. 

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another aspect of things i think i've at least half mentioned before but now i'm thainking about it again: take "maybe atlas dies ostensibly, perhaps at all truly, because of [whatever thing involving mitzi] while also at least in part to try to protect lackadaisy, &/or his own image" and add, as we could if we consider atlas more relevantly a potential parallel to other characters than as like representing more detached Forces, that maybe he could have (also partially) died to protect at least these two people who we know were, for their part, close enough to him for their part to be involved in his death & have this exclusive knowledge about it & continue to share the secret solely on this connection

like the mystery of it all is important insofar as it plays into Character & Themes, so it's like sure often turning to those things to like reverse engineer hypotheses about the mystery & then see how it holds up to like actual details we have. like that it sure matches "imagine how relevant to Character & Themes it'd be if mordecai was the one who shot atlas" to then cross compare like wow & the silhouette of the gun that atlas left for mordecai upon their first meeting sure matches what we see of the gun mordecai's passing to or taking from mitzi in the [that remains between us] flashback panel that has to do with their secret knowledge of How It Happened re: atlas's death. so like here we are in general with characters who know each other & have personal connections & all their supposed straightforward plans / ambitions concerning business are perhaps in conflict with whether these people they're emotionally invested in will be okay....maybe atlas also took that conflict into account and, for example, if he was assuming lackadaisy would close (but in a more controlled way than if atlas Didn't die, & whatever [dangers surrounding things that have changed such that asa did have something to warn atlas about] stayed focused on him & lackadaisy by extension) he also maybe didn't assume mitzi would try to keep lackadaisy running & would instead just kind of safely liquidate things.

of course, more difficult to speculate re: mordecai, like, oh yeah perhaps atlas had some genuine affection for his wife, right, but mordecai's official labels are all along the lines of like, bookkeeper, gunman, bodyguard. safe to say mordecai has the emotional investment re: atlas / matters surrounding him, but less so that atlas did in turn, when even with atlas being this deliberately Overall mysterious figure to us, we're looking at things like "wow maybe atlas is looking slightly towards mordecai when the latter's just gotten partially hit by a couple of shotgun blasts after another day on the lethal situations job" as like the potential biggest indication of possible warmth and it would be more of a stretch for atlas to assume "well if i die, mordecai will be totally fine" as for him to assume that mitzi would not, in fact, try to run lackadaisy. seems plausible that another theme that could be emphasized with mordecai here is "oops mordecai has the reasons to try to reconcile his situation with his feelings, while atlas just has to go 'wow he's effective at successfully fighting for his life / killing these guys who meant to kill him. sure could be useful for me to keep putting him in that position'" i.e. mordecai wants to find emotional value in someone seemingly looking out for him, whereas if anything atlas may as well actively try Not to care about mordecai besides as a business asset. including if/when he involves mordecai in his death, which could sure be as emotionally impactful for mordecai as it apparently was/is, while for atlas it could Just be like "well i could always trust him & the whole thing is he's really good at killing someone" and that's that. or maybe it's still this mix of like "yeah i'm Using you, and for incredibly demanding & dangerous purposes. but i'm also giving you my literal shirts, sure" nonzero bit of giving a shit still. possibilities. but still seems like mordecai (and mitzi, really) was much more emotionally invested, and thanks to atlas being such a mystery, we get this tension of like, how much of a misalignment is there between how much they cared and how much atlas really did / how much they think he did?

but anyways tl;dr would sure be yet more drama if atlas figured mitzi could be safe when he died but it's like whoops that sure wasn't guaranteed even by that Ultimate Backing Out. Themes

[yeonban]

And if I end myself what then.