#they just obviously have preferences

[gothambelfry]

Sethos using a polearm in game but a bow in his kit is sooo interesting

[shinynewmemories]

Listen to me Suzanne Collins did not have to give Katniss and Peeta a history before the games. She did NOT have to do that. She could have just had their story begin when Peeta's name was called. She could have had them be total strangers until the moment of the reaping.

Like: "And the boy tribute is... Peeta Mellark!" Katniss: Who's that? Or she could have made them vaguely familiar with each other! Peeta's name is called and Katniss just thinks, Oh, I know that name! He's in my class, actually. Poor boy... Anyway!

Either way, SC could have written the rest of the story exactly the same! I think many authors would have done that! Because if Peeta's purpose in the book was to be Gale's competition, to be one of the 3 corners of a love triangle, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WAY TO DO IT!! But that's NOT how she did it because that's NOT what Peeta is.

And what is he? To Katniss, Peeta's someone who saved her and her family and received nothing in return except a beating. Peeta's someone she has had her eye on but has never worked up the courage to talk to. Peeta's someone she associates with kindness and hope. And all this before the start of the events of the book! Just because WE, the READERS, met Gale before Peeta and immediately felt a connection with him does NOT mean that was Katniss's experience! And that's what SC is trying to tell us!

To dismiss Katniss and Peeta's past as unimportant or inconsequential compared to whatever Katniss and Gale have in the present is to fundamentally misunderstand Katniss as a character and, as a result, condemn oneself to never fully understand the choices she makes in the future.

Suzanne Collins wrote it that way on purpose because she had something to say. And no one will ever be able to convince me that something wasn't "It was always going to be Peeta".

[sunnibits]

potentially hot take but this is a pet peeve of mine

[22ndnervousbreakdown]

So, the Sherlock Holmes fandom (well, the johnlock side of it mostly, but, like, we're on tumblr) has multiple ways of coping with Watson having a wife (or wives) in the stories, and I got curious which ones are more popular.

If you go with the version of there having been multiple wives, and you have different headcanons for different ones, vote for the option you have for Mary (you're obviously welcome to elaborate on others in the notes though!)

Also I tried to make the options vague enough to fit different interpretations of H/W (romantic relationship, qpr, one-sided feelings from any side, etc), but obviously it's hard to include everything, especially in the character limit for poll options, so keep in mind that the main focus of the poll is Watson's relationship with his wife, not with Holmes, and vote how you see fit. You can interpret love/feelings as broadly as you want. And again, you're welcome to elaborate!

Reblog for sample size yadda yadda

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[witchlingcirce]

Tbh, I think the writers kind of fumbled by making so many of these characters not be adamant for the side there supporting! 😭😭

WHYYY is Aemond the only team green member team green??? Whyyyy is Jace the only team black member locking in (won the north, vale and the freys)

Can y’all get up or something ?? 😭😭😭

[forcedhesitation]

huge ew at all the people who erase the bisexuality of the bg3 companions. they aren't "playersexual," they aren't "gay coded" or "lesbian coded," there are MANY instances of them expressing romantic and/or sexual interest in other characters of varying genders. and not just your tav. it's not a suggestion, it's part of who they are no matter who your tav is.

[guttednight]

one of my favourite bits of qifrey’s characterisation is that he was a right little shit as beldaruit’s apprentice. literally the great hall’s problem child. that little fucker was running off every chance he got AND bel’s in a goddamn magic wheelchair! he needed one of those backpack leashes for that kid fr

[rockethorse]

The basegame wedding dress has a pregnancy morph??

[lbhslefttiddie]

the qiong ding peak disciples 100% have petty beef with lbh for stealing their favourite didi lmao

they're not gonna Actually beat him up (without Reason) but they're very emphatic about how thoroughly they WILL if lbh messes with sy. it's like a shovel talk that never ends

sy isn't actually completely oblivious to whats going on but he doesn't get why they're like this and he thinks theyre being fucking stupid (and he trusts them to not actually bully binghe) so he's elected to ignore their antics entirely

[intuitive-revelations]

I don't know if I'm excited or frustrated at the 'future children' angle for Susan's origin. On one hand... I'm very interested in the possible links to the likes of Miranda, the Other etc.

On the other hand... ok confession time: This may make me a minority in the fandom, but I actually really dislike the 80s-90s retcons of Susan's origin. (Birth of a Renegade, Lungbarrow etc.)

I kinda just like her and the Doctor being some of the last surviving members of what was once a family on Gallifrey. I find the mystery and tragedy of what happened on Gallifrey, with implied student uprisings and political assassinations, far more intriguing than any twists saying "actually she's not really his granddaughter". Fortunately, some things can be canonwelded into that (eg. Susan really could be also related to the president / descended from Rassilon), but stuff that actually gives her an origin elsewhere is always a pain.

Idk. I just see once being a parent (and losing it all tragically) as such a crucial part of the Doctor's background and Susan fits very well into that as far as I'm concerned. Anything disconnecting her from that, or worse erasing it completely, ultimately damages what I find to be one of the most compelling things about the Doctor and Susan. :/

The few posts I've already seen talking about this suggests this is an unpopular opinion, but I'd be interested to know what people think, and if they agree or disagree...

[asparklethatisblue]

i saw a post on twitter like “the ONLY reason your grandmas had so many children is cause your grandpas were evil and men inherently are sexually violent!”

and like… there’s always been abuse in relationships of course, women’s rights within marriage historically had ups and downs. But some cultures had a “yeah lets have a ton of children” thing since forever that’s barely questioned… there’s high infant mortality in some periods. And, most importantly: there was a time where, if you as a cis woman wanted to fuck at all, you had the inevitable risk of pregnancy you could neither prevent nor terminate? so what if grandma had lots of children because she enjoyed sex and the pull out method is dubious at best? What then? I know it’s useless to argue with twitter randos but I hate this idea where “in the past everything was BAD and it only gets better so if something is bad now it was HORRID then!”

[batsplat]

this is how i think the valentino/casey rivalry plays out in their minds

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Calvin Rose finds a catatonic teenager roaming the streets and… well, the poor kid looks dead on his feet, and it’s raining cats and dogs, he can’t just leave him there.

And, it’s fine. He’s just passing through (can’t risk more with the Court still at large) and will be back on the road come morning. And he’ll sleep easier knowing he kept the kid from certain death.

So, really, how the hell did he end up with the very same kid riding shotgun and nagging him to turn up the radio to Phoebe Bridgers?

[pain-is-too-tired]

Technically, if the gods can shrink down to be more human size, I assume that means they can shift to be even smaller.

A god popping up a few inches tall so they can talk with their kid without being too suspicious or obvious.

Kid freaks out cause my godly parent is size of a doll in front of me wtf??

Imagine you dad just randomly popping up on your shoulder why you're walking home or something XD

[sarcasticgaypotato]

The Best Solution

On cold, clear nights that bathed the world in pale blue light, Chell turned her chin up and looked at the sky.

She was not afflicted with the condition known as ‘sentimentality,’ no matter how many scorch-marked, heart-adorned metal cubes got thrown her way and left behind in fields of wheat a hundred miles away. But the ravaged surface world offered her little (save for her own freedom) and the nights were as quiet and lonely as the days, just without an excuse to fill her time by finding something to busy herself with under the light of the sun.

So, she looked upward and let her mind wander.

Every streak of a shooting star she hoped was a certain circular heap of scrap metal finally burning up in the atmosphere.

“Let go! I’m still connected. I can pull myself in.”

Of course he could. If she had given him half a chance, he would’ve pulled himself back in just fine—and let her fly off into space without a second thought if it would save his own steel.

The cold vacuum of space. When she closed her eyes, Chell could still feel it in the wind that tickled the stray hairs on the back of her neck, in the cold that stole the breath from her lungs as she gasped it. That rush of weightlessness, her eyes watering and freezing her eyelashes together, and that pit in her stomach that said, after everything she had survived, this might be it.

She stared up at the moon; a pale white beauty, once near enough for Chell to reach out and touch, now as distant as ever. A sliver in the night sky, it grinned down at her with a smile that knew the taste of her fear. An untouchable queen who would have her head, if she had her way. Chell would have called it as familiar as it was deadly, if not for one thing that nagged at her mind as she stared, lost among stars and memories alike.

This was always the point in her late-night stargazing that Chell started scratching absentmindedly at her wrist, where the phantom burn of cold metal claws still seared into her skin.

Chell never fell for any of GLaDOS’s tricks; she knew her too well. That hate was familiar, expected. Working together in Old Aperture was a surprise only for a moment; it was logical if they wanted to survive. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or “Everybody likes revenge,” as a certain someone had put it. 

She trusted GLaDOS’s intelligence enough to know that she would play nice for as long as they had a shared goal, and for as long as Chell held all the power. Don’t bite the hand that holds your consciousness trapped in a potato battery, or something like that.

Chell had even been fairly confident that after they beat Wheatley (she never had any doubt that they would), as long as she kept her guard up and an eye on her, GLaDOS wouldn’t risk betraying her. The world’s most intelligent lifeform had finally learned that Chell wasn’t worth crossing—it only took two losing battles for the lesson to sink in.

GLaDOS would keep her end of the bargain as long as it was convenient to do so. That was why Chell couldn’t make sense of what happened. No matter how many times she replayed those seconds in her head, watching her own memories in slow motion as GLaDOS knocked Wheatley free of the chassis and sent him spinning into space, robbing Chell of her only anchor to Earth. 

Freefall. 

Could you call it falling without gravity? Spinning, flailing, her body wrenched outward, seconds away from dying in space, embarrassingly outlived by the very same moron who was responsible for this whole mess. In the second that she had to process her impending death, Chell took a small hint of satisfaction in knowing that at least she took him down with her. Sure, the lack of air wouldn’t kill him as quickly as it would her, but he was far from a self-proclaimed king of Aperture out here. He was nothing but a hunk of junk destined to get knocked around by asteroids like a pinball. At least GLaDOS had a death worth bragging about under her non-existent belt; Chell had blown her to bits in what she would humbly call ‘a spectacular fashion.’

GLaDOS. Was her last thought before unconsciousness took her going to be about GLaDOS? How apt. GLaDOS would’ve loved to hear that, not that Chell would’ve ever told her, even if she had the chance.

She wouldn’t have the chance. She wasn’t supposed to.

When Chell felt that familiar metal claw clamp around her wrist, the first thought her fading consciousness could conjure was that GLaDOS wanted to be personally responsible for flinging her out into space, maybe so she could get a good spin on the throw. The realization that GLaDOS was pulling her in, back towards Earth, to safety, was one that proved entirely too much for her oxygen-deprived brain to process. So, she passed out.

GLaDOS could have done nothing at all, and Chell would have died. If she wanted the satisfaction of doing it herself, she could have crushed her under a metal plate or thrown her in the incinerator while she was unconscious. Instead, GLaDOS saved her life, watched over her recovery until she awoke, and then … let her go with only a bit of theatrics and nothing else. 

She pinned the blame on Caroline and made a big show of deleting her, neither of which Chell believed for a second. That golden eye took her in, unflinching, with the same inscrutable expression before and after the automated voice cheerfully announced Caroline’s removal. A long dead secretary Chell had never crossed paths with had nothing to do with this; there was no difference between the GLaDOS that pulled her from space and the GLaDOS who watched the elevator ascend to the surface now.  

This was all her, and she was supposed to give them both a satisfying conclusion to them parting ways with weapons lowered, standing (even if one of them didn’t have legs) on equal ground. GLaDOS was supposed to make this easy by sending her off with an insult or a half-hearted threat of one last murder attempt for old times’ sake.

“Killing you is hard.”

Liar. 

Killing me would have been easy if you wanted to.

Why didn’t you want to?