#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

[aalghul]

I think it’s really funny how Tim had at least one parent besides Bruce (who was not explicitly his parent for the longest time) for most of his time as Robin and yet nobody contests that he has been Bruce’s son, Dick’s brother, etc. since far before his actual adoption. But with Duke it’s a whole debate every time.

“Duke’s parents are still alive so it’s disrespectful” Tim’s stepmom was alive but unable to take care of Tim, when he was adopted by Bruce. Is it disrespectful to her to say Tim is Bruce’s son? Or does this argument only apply to Duke?

“Bruce didn’t adopt Duke, he was just his guardian” Do you know who else Bruce also didn’t adopt for his entire childhood? Or is Dick no longer Bruce’s son in any way whatsoever?

“Dick actually called Tim his brother” Jason’s included Duke as one of his brothers.

[startedwellthatsentence]

I would like to reiterate in an original post that from Tristan’s point of view, Max rejected him professionally, reprimanded him in front of their boss, and then rejected him romantically, within about 1 hour. Then, instead of comforting him, Avery explained to him that she would only be with Tristan if Max was also there and then sexually manipulated him into attempting to get Max’s approval. So now he knows that if he doesn’t manage to succeed in getting Max, who just rejected them both and implied he was straight, back into bed with them, then he also loses Avery, and it will be his fault that they don’t work out.

[laxmon]

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.

[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!)

[chronotopes]

anyway does anyone else think noel streatfeild was kinda gay with it

[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!! 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

[hauntingblue]

Last arcane episode ever..... here we fucking go....

[creamecream]

"Convince each of them that he ought to be released, and I'll release him,"

"Who's them?"

"Apollo! Hephaestus! Aphrodite! Ares! Hera! or me,

What do you say?"

"Great,"

"Very well,"

"Ehh,"

"Alright!"

"Groovy,"

"Bring it,"

Bubble Bath belongs to @abyssnighthawk and I

[ghostzzy]

shoutout to my stepmom for trivializing the impact of the election because ‘some people are really suffering’ because a really really tragic freak accident happened to one of jack’s classmates

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Thank god Sasha was confirmed bisexual, otherwise people would hc her as lesbian solely and exclusively because she's kind of a bitch.

[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.