#of course she is. shes her partner

[idontknowwhattocallthisanymore]

i think the only thing that would actually get cardin to get along with pyrrha of his own free will would be losing jaune. both of them mourning this stupid blonde together. becoming maybe-sorta friends through shared grief

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[melancholywally]

Day 3 of 18 of the Pokémon/Vocaloid collaboration Project Voltage - "What if Hatsune Miku was a ___-type Pokémon Trainer?" These images depict Hatsune Miku as a Fire-type🔥 Pokémon Trainer with her partner, Skeledirge! (art by 水谷恵 Mizutani Megumi)

[seaglassdinosaur]

I know we collectively agree that Hiccup isn’t romantically inclined, and his getting married and having kids didn’t make sense in the epilogue, but consider: Hiccup getting married for political reasons.

It’s a marriage of alliance, which is recognized both by him and his partner, and they enter it without expectations of romantic involvement. Since they’re now married, they live in the same castle, spend time together, and Hiccup finds he really likes his spouse. They’re funny, get along with his friends, and has the same interests and values. They both probably speak multiple languages. She understands why Hiccup is so dedicated to making the Wilderwest better, and holds similar views. She’s a good politician (her job after all, was to be an ambassador). Hiccup likes spending time with them, and the feeling is mutual. They’re not in love, they have their own lives, but they’re dedicated to each other and eventually decide to raise children. They teach their kids how to train hawks and hunt with dragons, riding, history, the Languages, and all the necessary skills of their world. They’re not in love and they’re happy together.

[thosewildcharms]

constantly thinking about this expression on michonne's face right before the kiss in 7x08, the relief and the pride and the joy. I have to think that seeing rick so broken and defeated was giving her awful flashbacks to mike giving up and losing andre as a result and it makes so much sense that she went off on her own and defaulted to self reliance because she can't go through that again. burn me once, etc. she was so scared she was losing rick to his own fear and even as she galvanized him with that speech she was probably terrified that it wouldn't be enough, that her partner was gonna quit on her again. and then he just! agrees! just like that! and in that moment she feels so validated in her love for him because she hasn't lost him after all, he listens to her and he's still with her. and this same expression on her face is mirrored in towl 1x04 when he finally verbalizes his trauma and allows her to get through to him. that look of there you are. I knew you were still in there. he proves to her that she is right to fight for him because even when he's terrified he comes back to her. something something you know why I fell in love with you? because you're a fighter. and you never give up.

[bitchthefuck1]

you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.

There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.

[heartofbalemoon]

// genshin spoilers (AQ 5 Act I)

HYV CASUALLY GAVE ME A MINI-ARC AND SOME COMFY CGS OF MY GIRL

RAAAAAHHHHHHH IM GONNA FAINT HAPPY.... make that a new costume and it better be free, dawei!! 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

[junietuesday]

pisses me off so bad when people reduce gale’s “obsession” w mystra w “shut up abt your ex, off to the sofa w you”. 😭😭😭 like if its a joke, i guess i cant stop you even if it isnt that funny, but when theyre serious abt hating gale/his romance arc bc he mentions mystra too often… like bro, mystra was his entire life for anywhere from 13-30+ years of his existence. gale’s whole value as a person became defined by his skill in magic. his relationship w mystra dominated every aspect of his life, his career, his romantic/sexual life, literally everything. his whole purpose was to serve mystra. he had literally less than a handful of other deep real relationships that were with anyone Other than mystra. his whole self-worth was so shaped by only having being archwizard, a chosen of mystra, to offer, that when mystra tells him to kill himself, he has to be talked out of it over the course of a whole act of the game. bc hes never known how to be a worthwhile person outside of his relationship w mystra. so like, can you blame him for talking abt mystra a lot???? theres no way to avoid how deeply mystra sculpted gale’s whole psyche. it would be flat out dishonesty for gale to pretend otherwise. everyone is shaped by their past, gale was shaped by his relationship w mystra, that’s just how people work and theres no point in trying to escape it

[darkpoisonouslove]

Hc (and something I wish would've actually happen): During that scene in 3x23 where Griffin, Saladin and Faragonda fight eachother Griffin realized at some point that something's was off bc she just knew that Valtors powers felt diffrent in that moment. Like she still recognized his powers but she knew in a real fight with him it would be diffrent. So she stopped attacking and instead just defended herself bc she knew how he works and there could be the chance that all of this is a twisted illusion and that Saladin and Faragonda still could be there.

That's always bugged me! Forget knowing Valtor's magic! The idea that Griffin, Saladin and Faragonda wouldn't recognize each other's magic is absolutely mindboggling! They've known each other for literal decades and have fought a war together!!! There's no way they wouldn't realize they're fighting each other! But once again, plot is prioritized over having character situations that make sense (because otherwise the Winx wouldn't have gotten to fight Valtor with the Water Stars and had the shocking revelation that Valtor has trapped Bloom's parents in his body that's... debunked by the end of the next episode... by the Ancestral Witches... who are beings of pure evil and have zero reason to tell the truth to the daughter of their sworn enemies... I give up; the writing for this show is atrocious!!!!)

Anyway, my idea (haha, RIP my rewrite that was supposed to include this) was that Valtor sends the Trix in his place to fight Griffin, Saladin and Faragonda after he gives them some magic to help emulate his own and because they used to have the Dragon Fire, small sparks of which have remained inside them since it can never be extinguished. So Griffin ends up fighting Darcy and she still figures out the deception! Because YES, she fucking knows him and his magic! That is to say, I completely agree with your headcanon! (And seriously, he should have used the Trix! This is a perfect three-on-three battle opportunity and could have brought us back to the time when the Trix were an actual threat!)

[carefulfears]

I hate when people dismiss the Phoebe thing as Scully simply having been jealous. She was his best friend first, and she did what any good friend would have

yeah it's pretty reductive, honestly. scully has been very protective of mulder since the pilot; the first 3 episodes of the show are literally her committing to him, holding a man hostage at gunpoint to find him, and cutting ties with her friends who make fun of him.

this was largely her arc in squeeze, after only having known him for a couple of weeks, as she defends him to colton multiple times

and, in the end, concludes that she would rather be “on the side of the victim” with mulder than climb the ladder with her classmates, and tells colton to fuck off the next time he’s rude about her partner

in ghost in the machine, she's disapproving of jerry from the moment they meet, knowing literally nothing about him except that he used to work with mulder

and she instantly recognizes the profile that jerry presents as mulder's work, whispering to him to ask if that's his, to which he replies "forget it, no" and then later fibs and says that jerry apologized for stealing it (once you tell your best friend you can't go back lol)

all of these examples pre-date her behavior in fire, and are episodes where she's put in situations navigating mulder around other men

y'all remember the first time she met krycek and just flat out refused to shake his hand lmao

i touched on this a little bit in my post on fire, but scully really was just so enthralled by him from the very beginning. she grew up on a military base with her navy captain father and two brothers, and her only relationships have been with older men in power.

she instantly is so aligned with mulder and that there's something different in him than she's used to, but she's aware that the openness and softness that she's so drawn to in him makes him more vulnerable, and she's desperate to protect it

in beyond the sea, the very next episode after fire, she screams at boggs that if mulder dies she'll gas him into hell herself, and boggs tells her that he's tasted the afterlife.

that it's a cold and dark place, and mulder's looking in on it now. she replies, "it might be a cold dark place for you, but it's not for mulder"

she knows him, and she's so moved by him and what he wants to do in the world. these are the values that she left medicine to follow.

"jealousy" honestly doesn't even compare to the kind of ferocious protectiveness that she feels towards him from the very start, she really doesn't trust anyone around him for anything. they can't possibly get it like she does, if they treat him that way.

he may not care if people call him names or steal from him or try to make him walk through fire, but he really is just her best friend. and she can't stand it.

[quirkle2]

my fav pets from cs :) [please zoom in . pl ease]

[designs belong to chickensmoothie]

[softquietsteadylove]

could we possibly get a little angsty mermaid au action? missing that one! thank you for continuing to share your masterpieces with us!

I almost didn't recognise you, it's been so long.

Thena blinked, the only time needed for her friend to go from being a speck in the distance to right in front of her. She sighed, bubbles rising from her mouth. Sorry.

What's wrong? Makkari asked, despite her feelings about Thena spending more time on land than in the water, these days. She swam around her friend, resting on a sandbank like a beached whale. It must be bad for you to leave your precious human.

Thena snarled her lips, letting her fangs poke out. She turned over in the sand, her tail dusting it up around them. "Leave it alone."

Makkari swam around to her other side, though, real concern on her face now. Hey, it was a joke. Is there something I should know?

Thena's lip wobbled. If she were on land, her eyes would be pouring salt. They had done so a few times, like when she was sick, or when she watched a heartbreaking movie with Gil that felt very much like how they had come to fall in love.

But underwater, the vacuum of it swallowed her sorrows. Her gills expanded and contracted with her heavy heart. "We are quarrelling."

You and the land walker? Makkari tilted her head a few times, the gold charms she liked on the ends of her hair floating with the motion. What did he do?

Thena swiped at her eyes, another human habit she had picked up. She sighed again, adjusting herself on her sand bed. He didn't do anything. I...I learned something.

Makkari - against any mer's instincts and natural inclination - also settled herself on the sand. She rested her chin on her arms folded in front of her, the red sparkle of her scales reflecting on the beautiful tone of her skin. She raised her brows.

Thena smiled at her friend. There was nothing about the ocean she missed quite so much as Makkari. We were out walking in town. A woman approached Gil, and he knew who she was. They spoke for some time, and he introduced me. She seemed nice.

Makkari nodded along with her very factual recounting of the story. She was used to it with her, after all. She would ask her questions as they came.

I asked Gil who she was when we got back to the boat. Thena blinked, laying her head on the sand again like a pathetic guppy lost in a strange reef. She was his mate.

Makkari shot up again, her tail swishing and her hands poised as if she had the human man's throat there for the strangling. His what?!

Thena nodded, feeling the rush of foolishness and resentment and anger and envy all over again. Humans don't mate for life. Apparently, it is not uncommon for them to have numerous partners.

It wasn't that it was impossible for mers to have multiple mates. Sometimes things didn't work out, that wasn't so incomprehensible. But it wasn't something taken lightly, to become bound mates at all. Certainly it wasn't common to encounter someone's past mate and strike up pleasantries.

She nuzzled the sand, pressing her temple to it in a poor substitute for the soft but firm feeling of Gil's chest under her. He said it was a long time ago. That they had been young and parted amicably. That they were 'still friends'.

Makkari watched the way she punctuated his verbatim statement. She lifted her lips around her fangs. That sounds like a clown who wants more than one anemone.

She agreed. It was hard to communicate that to him, though, when all she had felt was rage. Anger with him for smiling at his past mate wit her right there, on his arm no less! How dare he greet this woman so normally as if they hadn't been entangled from the inside out?!

She knew it was normal for them. She knew Gil didn't mean to hurt her and she knew that she shouldn't have thrown herself right over the side of the boat to avoid him. But just the sight of him made her want to shatter coral right off his thick skull.

Humans actually had very thin skulls compared to theirs, Sersi said.

What else did he say?

Thena shook her head. The sun moved above them, or a cloud did, and she lost her comforting warm spot. She let herself drift off the sand and listlessly ride the currents around them.

Hey, Makkari nudged her arm as she began swimming next to her. I never thought I'd see the day you were limping around because of some bull.

Nor did she, in all honesty. But she had never felt quite like this, either. She let herself drift down and down until some shelves of coral made themselves known. Her tail flopped limply after her; the tail Gil said was so beautiful.

Makkari swam to face her again. Now I'm really worried.

"Sorry," Thena squeaked out. She couldn't help it. She wanted to be in a bed and to tug the covers up over her head. She wanted to run a hot bath and fold herself up in it, letting just her tail hang out in the open air.

Okay, Makkari also sighed, moving to lean against the edge of her coral refuge. I may not be the biggest admirer of your...human. But I know how much you care about him. Are you going to go back to him?

Of course--of course she would. She just came to get out her feelings. The question of going back or not was not even an option. But maybe that was part of the problem. Thena looked at her oldest and dearest friend in all the seas. Kari, I can't leave him. We're...

Makkari's eyes widened. Perhaps she'd had some inkling of things, but this was a damning admission nonetheless. She waved her fingers. You, and him, you're...you mated with him?!

Thena pursed her lips, tempted to roll over again as if she were in bed at home. "You don't have to make that face."

How is that...how? Makkari concluded, rather mildly all things considered.

How humans do it, Thena sufficed to say. She didn't have to go over the gruesome details.

To her credit, Makkari restrained herself from further reaction. She crossed her arms again. Do you feel different?

She did, but she also didn't. She had never taken a mate of her own kind, but she had never even desired to. With Gil...it had happened so naturally, come of natural events. Perhaps she had experienced new mate-hood, in which she had become so infatuated that she had nary desired to leave Gil's side.

But then she thought of the human woman again, of her hanging on Gil's arm, and kissing him and eating his food. And it made her stomach clench like when she had fallen ill with a human 'bug'.

Thena blinked as she felt the touch of a hand on her arm. Makkari gave her a sympathetic look. Mers were not the type to exchange physical gestures meaninglessly, and they in particular were not partial to it. But she smiled, "thanks."

Makkari patted her arm before fiddling with the gold on her fingers (also stolen little trinkets). Well, you'll go back, you said. When?

She was asking if Thena would stay in the water for some time. But she hadn't considered it. For all she had done to storm off and leave poor Gil all alone in the small motorboat, she hadn't considered staying past the height of the moon. For how miserable she was feeling, she still wanted to return to his arms to sleep.

How foolish mating with a partner made someone.

I don't know, Thena answered more properly. She at least lifted herself from the coral. I wanted time to think clearly.

Makkari shrugged. Bulls--what can be done about them?

Thena offered a somewhat sardonic but genuine smile. She was inclined to agree, but she still wished to return to her bull in question. I promise I will return soon, and in better spirits.

Makkari followed her as she began swimming upward again. As soon as she had tossed herself from the boat, she had swam straight down, desiring nothing more than getting Gil out of her sight. Does Ikaris know?

Thena rolled her eyes. No, and he never can. I had to worry about him drowning Gil before they had even met. This will not help.

Fine, but I can't say I'm completely against it, Makkari offered neither her complete support nor condemnation. But it was support either way, and Thena appreciated it.

Thena eyed the bait that was hanging in the water. They weren't deep enough for mers yet, but it was deep enough that most wouldn't be fishing with a regular manual rod in such an odd spot.

Makkari beat her to it, of course, swimming right up to it. There's something tied around it.

Thena floated next to it, undoing the strip of cloth tied around the line. The ink was already being eaten at by the salt, but the sloth was scrawled with a very sad SORRY on it in horrific lettering. "Oh, Gil."

Has he just been sitting here? Makkari asked, looking up at the bottom of the boat.

That was exactly what he had been doing. Because that was Gil; he wouldn't have gone home without her. Even if she had, she would have discovered he wasn't back and come to find him. So he had stayed put, cast the line with a message for her to come back to him, unable to come after her properly.

Okay, fine, he's not bad for a human, Makkari conceded with minimal eye rolling. She gave Thena's fin a friendly smack with her own on her way past. Come back another time you don't want to just cry about your boyfriend and his legs?

Thena waved to her friend's swiftly retreating image before Makkari truly put her power into her tail and shot off with blinding speed. She did owe her more visits, and it was nice to truly swim completely uninhibited for a time.

She poked her head up slowly, the water lapping around her. It was dusk, and soon would be completely dark. She rose until she could peek over the side of the boat.

Gil was tearing another strip of fabric off his emergency canvas, writing the word over and over and over to get the ink to penetrate the cloth properly.

Oh, her sweet, sweet human man. Thena sighed, once again feeling the air in her lungs, even with her gills in her neck. She brought her hands up to the boat's edge, "Gil?"

"Th-Thena!" he startled, but his head whipped up to her. He had been crying. "Angelfish!"

The boat tipped dangerously as he rushed over to her. As much as she could get them back home, she wasn't strong enough to tip over a boat by herself. "Gil!"

He stopped his rush to hug her, or lift her out of the water and back onboard with him. His shoulders sagged, "oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I should have explained more--a-about my ex. I didn't mean for you to find out that way."

She still didn't enjoy the concept of Gil and his ex-mate, doing mating things. But she pulled herself up and into the boat for herself, settling on the bench, still with her tail on. "I know you were put in a difficult position, Gil. I...I shouldn't have swam off."

He plunked himself back down to the other seat by the motor. "No, I don't blame you for being mad. I probably wouldn't want to find out about any ex of yours by running into him on a date."

Yes, exactly! She had her vindication, which did soothe the stubborn part of her. But she split her tail into legs again, leaning forward. "Gil."

He let her lift his chin, happy to accept her kiss. He slipped his fingers into her hair. "I'm sorry, Angelfish. I didn't want you to get hurt like that."

It had hurt, in an odd way. Humans had such interesting concepts of pain--so internal and self reflective. But Thena smiled, running her thumb over his cheek, "I know."

He accepted her acceptance. He wasn't forgiven, but he wasn't asking for that. He reached behind him, putting his jacket over her, "let's get home, okay?"

Thena nodded, pulling the jacket up and zipping it. It was cold in the air, even as the salt beaded off her skin. "I'm sorry, I don't know where the dress ended up."

"It's okay, Cuddlefish, we can get you another one," he smiled, eager to maintain their lifted spirits. He held his arm out, inviting her to sit next to him for the boat ride home.

She obliged him, settling herself in the crook of his arm. She pressed her temple to his chest, finally soothed after the sand failed where he was succeeding. "I want that seafood stew you make for dinner."

What he called 'Jjampong' was one of her favourites, not only for the seafood, but for the pleasant spiciness it possessed.

He kissed her hair, speeding ahead and back to their home, on the island, with Titania waiting for them at the dock. "Anything you want, Thena."

She wanted him to swear to be her one and only mate from now on. But dinner would suffice for now.

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

My partner is shorter than me, so all of my hoodies and jackets are comfortably oversized on her. She tends to take full advantage of this by stealing whatever hoodie or jacket I'm wearing at the time. I let her, because I would absolutely do the same thing if I were in her position. Unfortunately, I can't do the same thing, because most of her jackets and hoodies are too short in the sleeve for me to wear, and therefore we don't get to have equal hoodie exchange.

I just steal her blankets instead. Because equality.

[graciehart]

.

[enobariasteeth]

thinking about Enobaria and how even though she was a career from district 2, you don’t rip out someone’s throat out with your teeth if you’re winning the fight