#then it falling apart again

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[joicecubes]

was recently rewatching this scene and… god the way ford looks at him here…

it’s this level of softness we don’t really see on him a lot in his next few episodes, especially when he’s interacting with stan. like yeah, in a moment here he’ll tell stan he needs to get out of his house by the end of the summer, but its like he’s giving himself a second to really take in the sight of his brother. it’s been 30 years. he’s seeing him again for the first time in decades, they’ve both grown and aged without each other. ford just told stan he looks like their dad and he’s watching as stan denies it and laughs and elbows him like the old days, and for a moment ford just looks at him. with this gentleness. he forgets to be mad just to soak in the reality that he’s here again. with stan.

it’s shortlived obviously. and his grudge kicks in a minute later as the extra reality that his house has been transformed into a tourist trap and his identity has been stolen sets in. but that small moment :( ugh how much he must’ve missed him :( it kills me :((

[justaz]

need arthur repealing the magic ban bc its the Right Thing To Do and merlin is ecstatic bc finally finally he can be himself and tell arthur the truth. he can stop lying and hiding!! and the the ban is repealed and magic is free and theres a feast held in celebration and merlin lugs arthur to his chambers since the king had a bit too much wine and the night is warm and golden and steeped with happiness. merlin lays arthur down in bed and arthur looks up at him with half-lidded eyes, glazed over and warm and filled with love, and he says some sappy shit about merlin being a good friend and how loyal he is.

merlin isnt sure why his words make a stone settle in his stomach but he brushes it off and goes to bed, telling himself that he’ll tell arthur everything in the morning. then morning comes around and merlin sits at the table while arthur is eating breakfast and opens his mouth to tell him when his throat closes up and no words escape him. arthur is confused but merlin distracts him by insulting him and postpones the conversation. he’s been hiding for years, maybe he just needs to take it slow, take baby steps, let his mind and body get used to the idea of being free first.

merlin waits another week and a half before trying again. same result. the words wont come out and he’s choking on this secret he thought he could fess up to now and it takes him so long to realize he’s terrified. he isn’t sure why bc helloooo the ban is lifted!! he won’t be put to death!! what’s the problem?? he had an easier time confessing to sorcery to uther when such a thing was still punishable by death. why is it so hard to tell his best friend the truth when he won’t be punished for it??

answer: telling arthur the truth would mean telling him how merlin has lied for years and how arthur has never truly known the man he calls his friend. arthur will be hurt and angry and he’ll feel betrayed and that is something merlin has seen time and time again and he has fought so hard to prevent yet here he is about to put the same expression on his face. he’s about to break arthur’s heart once more. he can’t do it. he has to. he’ll hurt him. it gets worse the longer merlin takes. arthur will hate him. oh gods arthur will hate him.

[fumifooms]

Dad always said I was like him

Meijack and Chilchuck Tims Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui

^ 1: Moony moonless sky, Fatima Aamer Bilal / 2: Bug like an angel, Mitski / 3: Woodtangle, Mary Ruefle / 4: The Third Hour of the Night, Frank Bidart / 5 & 6: FROM THE MAKERS OF "TWO-MOM ENERGY DRINK," IT'S "LET YOUR FATHER DIE ENERGY DRINK,", Daniel Lavery & Cecilia Corrigan / 7: Batman: Year Three (1989) / 8 & 9 : FROM THE MAKERS OF […], Daniel Lavery & Cecilia Corrigan / 10: Wilt, CJ the X / 11: How Do We Forgive Our Fathers, Dick Lourie / 12: Milk and honey, Rupi Kaur / 13: And My Father's Love Was Nothing Next To God's Will, Amatullah Bourdon / 14: Moony moonless sky, Fatima Aamer Bilal / 15: Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong, Ocean Vuong / 16: untitled, Joan Tierney v 17: Drunk, The Living Tombstone / 18: unknown

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it, and still you stand next to your mother just as silent and just as stoic as her during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight, out of mind. And he’s never really been there, even when he was there, after all.

[ender1821]

im a child of divorce

[occasionalsnippets]

I wouldn’t be surprised if yandere au does happen tbh, FD!Mc is a very important person in their lives who saved them from their canon fate

The tipping line between the concept being yandere or not is pretty thin.

The Batfam have it pretty easy, all things considered. You won’t leave Gotham for long periods of times, not when you’re still running Drake Industries and even with that aside, as long as they have Tim, they’ll have you.

Even if you haven’t accepted everyone else as family, accepted that they want- need you to stay, Tim is still your absolute, uncontested, number one priority. There’s no way you’d leave him with the Waynes without at least checking in every so often. So, really, most of the yandere-ness is already satiated by just how often you come by and by the sheer everything you’ve done to help them all.

But still, it’s not enough. You still leave at the end of the week. You’re still distant, watching on as though you’re an outsider. You still won’t call anyone other than Tim your sibling.

It’d be easier if you could stay forever. So what if there are papers you left at the Drake manor that you need for your next meeting? They can go and get it for you and while they’re at it, why don’t they just bring everything back home, back to the Wayne manor where you belong.

You’re the one who dug your way in, mended the splinters and carved a place for yourself in this family so should you really be surprised when they won’t let you leave?

(Tim is definitely still collaborating with everyone to get you to stay even if he was a bit unenthused at the prospect of sharing you at the beginning. But… if you ever wanted to drop everything and leave, he’d help and vanish with you too. Though, of course, that’s require you to realize something is wrong first…)

I guess the main thing about the au being yandere is the suffocation. In the normal au, they’d at least respect your choices and let you do your own thing but if they’re yandere, there was never really any choice at all.

[capquinn]

All these dad prompts make me feel like Quinn would be an absolute anxious disaster during the birth. That sick and hunted look he has would be 10x worse and he’s so stressed about it all but he’s trying his best not to let it show he’s on the struggle bus

Quinn had thought he was prepared for this. He’d sat beside you through every birthing class, nodded along and mirrored the breathing techniques beside you, letting his breaths slow and deepen, practicing the rhythm as if it were second nature. Watched each demonstration with a sharp focus, absorbing every detail with the kind of intensity he usually reserved for studying game footage or taking on board tips from his trainers during practice. Read every pamphlet the nurses handed him, listened intently to every “what to expect” rundown, convinced he had it under control. He’d even practiced encouraging phrases under his breath, murmuring, “you’re doing amazing,” and “I’m right here,” into the steering wheel on drives home from the rink, feeling almost silly but sure it would come naturally when the moment arrived. By the time the classes were over, he’d convinced himself he’d be steady, grounded — the calm, unshakable support you’d need. That he had this birthing partner thing down.

But now, here in the birthing suite, as the hours tick by and he watches you grit your teeth through each contraction, he’s realising just how far out of his depth he really is.

He’s trying so hard to keep it together, but the look on his face betrays him. His brow is furrowed, his eyes wide and anxious, the usual steadiness in his gaze shaken, a stark contrast to the steady, level-headed man you know so well. Every time you squeeze his hand, he squeezes back a little too hard, like he needs the reassurance just as much as you do. You’ve rarely seen him like this — he’s usually the calm one, the one with a logical plan and a steady hand, the one who grounds you when things get shaky. And when he catches sight of the monitor tracking your contractions, his heart rate seems to spike right along with it, his hand twitching in yours as he glances between the screen and you, desperately wishing he could take on some of the pain for you.

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” he whispers, but his voice is shaky, and you can feel his fingers trembling as they grip yours.

He wipes a hand over his brow, and as you watch the tension in his jaw and the way his eyes dart to the monitor, to you and to the nurse who slips in and out of the room, you realise just how deeply he’s feeling every moment with you.

“Is this… Is this how it’s supposed to be?” he asks quietly, mostly to himself, glancing at you with a flash of uncertainty.

“Yes, Quinn,” you manage to say, breathless but amused, catching his worried gaze. “This is… exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

He nods, swallowing hard, looking like he’s trying to believe you. He brushes your hair back, but his hand hovers awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.

“Right. Okay. I just… I just want to make sure.”

In a small way, it’s oddly comforting, seeing him like this, knowing he’s right there with you, heart and soul, even if his calm is nowhere to be found.

The next contraction hits, and you squeeze his hand, eyes shutting tight, your breath ragged as you try to breathe through it. His own breath catches, his face twisting in sympathy, helpless to do anything but sit there.

“You’ve got this, alright? I’m right here,” he says, even though his voice cracks on the last word.

Every grimace of pain on your face feels like a punch to his gut, and he’s trying, he’s trying so hard to stay calm for you, but he looks like he’s barely holding it together.

As the hours drag on with slow, steady progress, his anxiety builds, tightening around him like a vice. He’s watched you suffer through every contraction, seen every grimace of pain, and he feels like he’s watching it all in slow motion. He’s tried to stay still, to keep calm, but he finds himself pacing the room between contractions, hands running through his hair and rubbing the tension in the back of his neck, glancing nervously at the nurses as if silently asking them to make it stop, to make it go faster.

But then you call his name, reaching out for him, and he’s right back at your side, forcing himself to smile, to be the rock you need, even as he feels like he’s on the verge of falling apart.

“Quinn, I need…,” you manage during one particularly strong contraction, your voice strained as you reach for him.

“I’m here,” he says immediately, his hand wrapping tightly around yours, his forehead pressed to yours. “You’re incredible, you know that? I swear you’re…” He trails off, his voice choked with awe and helplessness.

When the nurse finally tells you it’s time to push, Quinn’s anxiety vanishes in a strange rush of clarity. His heart hammers, but there’s a renewed focus in his eyes, a sense of purpose that drives him to lean in closer, gripping your hand with both of his.

This is it. The goal line is right there, within reach, and he’s desperate to see you out of pain, to help you push through this final stretch, and to finally meet his daughter.

“You’re so close, baby,” he whispers, his voice steady, full of admiration. “Just a little more, you’ve got this.”

He can feel his own breaths syncing with yours, each push you give pulling him further into the moment, all his nerves tightening in anticipation. He’s all in, holding your hand as though it’s his own lifeline, whispering encouragements, brushing your damp hair back with a tenderness that anchors both of you to reality.

Then the midwife announces that the baby’s head is crowning, and something in Quinn’s mind stirs with a fierce curiosity. He’s seen his fair share of bruises and blood on the ice, the broken noses and stitches that come with the game. He thinks he can handle a glimpse. Just a quick look.

“Hang on,” he murmurs, his hand dropping to your knee as he takes a cautious step, assuring you he’s not going far.

But the moment he glances down, the world tilts.

The sight is… intense. Far more visceral than anything he’s witnessed, even in the grittiest post-game injuries. He feels his stomach lurch, his mouth going dry, and his face loses all colour. His eyes widen, shock and something close to horror flickering across his face as he stares, caught in the gruesome reality. But he can’t look away — he’s frozen, like a deer in the headlights, eyes glued to the scene before him, his grip on your knee suddenly slack.

You catch sight of him, his face ashen and eyes haunted, and despite everything — the pain, the exhaustion — a breathless laugh escapes you. Reaching up, you tug at his shirt, snapping him out of his daze.

“Quinn,” you manage, your voice weak but filled with humour. “Don’t you dare faint on me.”

He blinks, startled, and shakes his head, stumbling back to your side with a sheepish look. “No, no, I’m good,” he mumbles, forcing a smile, though he still looks a little shaken. “Just… whoa.”

He squeezes your hand tighter, lifting it to press a lingering kiss against your knuckles, then another to the inside of your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a quiet reverence in his gaze, something deep and unspoken that he’s trying to pour into every touch, every gentle kiss. His thumb strokes over your hand, slow and steady, grounding you in this last moment of stillness before everything changes.

Then he leans in, brushing his lips to your forehead, holding them there a beat longer, and you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his presence. You can feel the slight tremble in his fingers, but the love in his touch is steady, unwavering, a promise he’s making with every gentle press of his lips.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with awe, like he’s seeing you in an entirely new light. “We’re so close. She’s nearly here.”

His forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both soak in this precious moment — your last as just the two of you.

And as the nurse announces it’s time for the final push, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand never leaving yours. You give him a small, tired smile, your heart swelling at the thought that, in mere moments, you’ll both meet the tiny person you created together, and be a family of three.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[epicfirestormer]

Will never get over how Starscream and Skyfire's relationship is always doomed. There's never an iteration of them where they both stay on the same side at the end. They always end up being against each other, tearing each other apart (whether intentionally or not). They always end up losing each other, be it by a snowstorm, by the war, or by death itself. They never receive a happy ending together, one if not both of them is doomed to suffer.

Skyfire is doomed to be an Autobot, by forces out of his control. Starscream is doomed to be an Decepticon, by his own self destructive tendencies. They are both doomed, because of who they are. They always try to save the other, in their own way. But it never works. They are doomed to fail, whether they stay together or not.

[starryy-leo]

I think it should be said this whole thing with the book is for fun.

At the end of the day, unfortunately Gravity Falls is a dead show, it’s been dead for years. It’s great that we have new content, but we have to remember at this point we’re really only to expect scraps. We aren’t owed anything as a fandom and we should not go at Alex for any reason beyond joking support. I haven’t seen anyone do that but I’m just saying. This is all for entertainment and fun.

There seems to be a major connection between TBoB and The Great Gatsby, the second being about letting go of the past so it doesn’t haunt you. The timer on the website? The negatives? The dead ends? Maybe it’s Alex’s way of saying this is the end. To let go. To move on.

[thechy-fychannel]

y'all ever think abt how it was julie having the affair and it is even said multiple times that she was the one who left him, yet wilson was still the one who left their home and moved in with house. like. he couldn't bear to stay in their home alone. he immediately ran to house and stayed on his couch for weeks. suffered through his pranks and his laziness and his manipulation. telling him he wants him gone while sabotaging his attempts to leave. and he only left once he got a girlfriend again.

[introspectivememories]

[xenomorphicdna]

Sluggy design explosion!!!

All of em,,, god this all took so long what the fuck. So glad they're all done tho because the next thing on the list is making dms skins

Individual images under the cut ↓

Enot,, big

[mikacanica]

"… I’m coming back. I won’t leave you on your own."

[ohimsummer]

cult leader! suguru knows how infatuated you are with him. he can see the hearts floating in your eyes as he makes you kneel on the floor between his spread legs. he thumbs over your cheeks so softly, leaning over you and lingering so close—his presence is suffocating. then, suddenly, he makes you get up and leave, all before you can really savor in this proximity. and because he knows just how much you hate being away from him.

[gummytweek]

More of Rick’s mom! Her name is Selena while his dad is Ricardo (Rick was named after his dad!)