#{{ soft family moment!

[whumpypepsigal]

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2024) s01e04 “Everything I need is on this boat.”

[swiftlydnp]

dan adjusting phil's glasses so softly the same way he adjusted his grandma's glasses in that dystopia daily video shut up I am soft please tell me someone made a parallel gifset of that😭😭😭

[humblewonderer]

the definition of found family

I rest my case

[davidtennan-t]

a proud uncle 🥹

[mangofanarts]

"Are you sure you lost a sibling? Or are you just having a disagreement with a sibling?"

[obiscribbles]

Week 44 - January 28th, 2024 'From Now On' - Zac Brown Band Spotify / YouTube

No one does the voices in the story quite like Uncle Obi.

Enjoy!

[jasmindoodles]

Here it is!

Namor and shuri staying up most of the night trying to ease their baby girl to sleep, only for them to sit outside near the rivers edge even tho you can’t see it as the sound of the waters soothes their daughter.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

pirate-Eclipse and sea monster reader,, parts 4-7 uwu

Previous: here Final: here

[hypostatic-oath]

I've started playing Honkai Star Rail and I love how dramatically silly it lets me be. So far I have stolen mail, searched garbage cans, entered a closet to become one with the darkness, waxed on about how life is just a road to death to a terrified guy (somehow that seemed to make him less terrified), bowed in respect to a dumpster, investigated an inconspicuous lamp so many times it got mad at me, investigated a trash can so many times it insulted me, and felt bad for two different trash cans and several sandbags (I believe my Trailblazer is going insane from putting up with me). All this not counting with the countless dialogue options with NPCs around the world that allowed me to be incredibly dramatic (think almost Fischl style) for no reason (you can bet I took them). However, I cannot jump or climb, and fights are turn-based... we respect our opponents in Star Rail (and die. A lot).

What I conclude from this is that while the Traveler has a moral code (and some standards) when dealing with interpersonal interactions but isn't bound by physical restrictions or conventions (stairs? The Traveler does not understand that concept. Fair fights? Please, they don't have time for that), the Trailblazer is the exact opposite. The physical rules may hold them but their only ties to social rules or convention so far have been March and Dan Heng saying "hey, maybe don't fight the guards" and "hey, you can't just accept random jobs".

It also might be because the Traveler is a thousand year old entity that has been through A Lot (has learnt the power of friendship, but is too tired to take the long route) and is on a serious mission while the Trailblazer was quite literally Born Yesterday with the sole purpose of housing a massive problem inside their body (walks and fights like a Normal Person bc they're mimicking everyone else, but is absolutely unhinged) and is just having fun with tjeir newfound existence.

Either way I love both of them and they're basically cryptids but in different ways.

[insomnisnack]

A soft moment between Danny and Jason

Brows furrowed, he titled his head and blinked, “You...aren’t just going to kick me out?”

It was Jason’s turn to blink, surprised by the question. “No?”

“Why are you being so nice?” He demanded, suspicious again.

The older man sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, “Because you look like you need it?”

Jason could see Danny’s metaphorical hackles raise at his words, “I don’t need pity, I’m not some community service project.”

“Woah, hey! That’s not fucking it kid, damn. I’m the last fucking person that’s gonna pity you for fucks sake. Look, I get it, whatever has happened to you fucked you up.” Danny was beginning to panic again, eyes darting to the window, looking for an escape. “It’s obvious to someone like me kid and I don’t need to know details to see it, I’ve lived through my own fucked up shit.”

The olive toned teen stayed quiet, unmoving, just watching and Jason sighed. “I’m not keeping you here Danny, you can leave whenever you want, the door's unlocked. But if you want food, I'm making pancakes, I've been told they’re they best.”

With that the tall, broad man got up slowly and walked to the kitchen.

He wanted to leave, to go to his apartment and make sure everything was still in its place, he wanted to stay because this place was warm and felt like comfort.

Not the kind of warmth from a thermostat, though it was plenty of that, but the kind of warmth he felt when his sister made hot cocoa and they sat outside looking at the stars.

The kind of warmth when Sam and Tucker came over and they ended up in a too clingy puddle of limbs in a pile of blankets after falling asleep watching movies.

And it was that kind of warmth that had him getting up and wandering into the kitchen asking if he could help.

Jason gave him a half smile that reached all the way to his eyes and told him to grab some blueberries out of the fridge.

They worked in silence for the most part, Jason giving instructions or Danny asking questions, but it was nice; it felt homey in a way he had never had no matter how hard Jazz had tried.

When they sat down, Danny couldn’t help but exclaim after his first bite, “I never thought to put anything in pancakes! Fruit! Who knew?”

Jason stared at him like he had two heads, “You didn’t- How-” he paused and cleared his throat, “Yeah kid, anything you want, my Dickhead of an older brother like bits of bacon even.”

Danny for his part stared back with stars in his eyes at all the things he wanted to try now, he wondered if Jason would teach him to make other food.

The soft smile never left his face the rest of the meal, Jason put more pancakes on his plate, and he ate until he was stuffed.

[whumpypepsigal]

The Recruit s01e01: “Okay. Get some sleep.”

[mystery-box-gifs]

+ Bonus

[jianqzai]

Lan Wangji getting drunk, but this time, terrorizing poor Sizhui.

Lan Wangji had been trying to increase his alcohol tolerance, so he indulged in a sip or two per meal with Wei Wuxian. Though at the beginning that was enough to get him tipsy, as days passed by, even those effects diminished.

Which led to overconfidence, which led to him trying a full cup and getting completely drunk. 

Stubborn as always, as soon as he regained consciousness, he walked out from the Jingshi into the Cloud Recesses main compound, Wei Wuxian trying ineffectually to herd him back inside. A drunk Lan Wangji looked very much like a sober Lan Wangji, it was only his words or childish behavior that gave him away, so as to not gather attention, Wei Wuxian could only walk next to his husband, in whatever search mission they were into.

Lan Wangji checked the dining hall, then the library, and finally Lan Sizhui’s room - huffing in annoyance when he discovered it was also devoid of his son. He walked to the only other place he could think of: the rabbits' meadow

Sizhui was in fact there, with Jingyi and a couple of his friends. 

Everyone scrambled to their feet when they watched Lan Wangji approach, bowing with a chorus of "Hanguang-Jun." 

"It's alright kids!" Wei Wuxian breathlessly called from where he was jogging behind his husband. "You can sit down."

As soon as everyone settled down, Lan Wangji also lowered himself, gracefully kneeling down in front of Sizhui, holding his face between his hands.

"H-hanguan-Jun?" He stuttered, turning redder by the second. He tried to gently dislodge himself, but his father's hold was unmovable.

"Aiyo, Lan Zhan, let him go. Look how hard you're squishing him!"

Lan Wangji slackened a little his hold, but kept making Sizhui do funny faces, kneading his cheeks to his heart's content. By this point, everyone was aware Hanguang-Jun was drunk. They were trying their best to hide their laughs behind their sleeves, more than anything in commiseration to their friend, but they weren’t being very successful.

Sizhui turned pleading eyes on Wei Wuxian, but he only shrugged, knowing it was impossible to stop Lan Wangji if he was set on doing something.

As for Lan Wangji, maybe he had been feeling sad because Sizhui was starting to become more independent with each passing day, or maybe he and Wei Wuxian had been talking about Sizhui's childhood. Whichever the reason, he was feeling melancholic.

He finally stopped with the kneading, but before Sizhui could breathe in relief, Lan Wangji held his face once again, making intense eye contact.

"You're still my baby."

Sizhui’s whole face turned red.

"Father," he whined faintly, already planning where he was going to move after all this ended.

Then, to everyone's absolute horror, silent tears started to fall down Lan Wangji's cheeks.

"Baba, no. What." Squeaked a panicking Sizhui, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure on what to do. Unbothered by his fretting, Lan Wangji started tracing the length of his forehead ribbon with his fingers, then fluffed up his bangs and finally settled his hands on his shoulders, cheeks still wet.

"You have grown so much. I am proud of you."

This time it was Sizhui's turn to cry. It was not like his father had never told him that before, either with words or approving glances, but watching him tear up had gotten him emotional as well. At his tears, Lan Wangji threw an alarmed look to his husband. 

"Wei Ying"

If his hope had been for Wei Wuxian to do something to calm down their son, then he was going to be disappointed, because he was also sobbing into his hands.

"Xian-gege. A-die, don't cry." Sizhui said, which, of course, only made Wei Wuxian cry even harder. So at the end, the three of them ended up hugging and crying together, until Lan Wangji passed out and Wei Wuxian had to carry him back home

[rockingrobin69]

Insistently, Stickily Sweet

It started raining outside, a constant patter hitting the window, tap-tap-tapping away merrily. Inside, cocooned under a thick blanket, only a smattering of blond hair and the tip of a nose visible: “Is it finished,” a husk of a voice. He’d fallen asleep sometime during the second episode. Harry didn’t have the heart to wake him.

“Yes, sweetheart. Shall we call it a night?”

“No,” grumbling, fighting tooth and nail to free an arm, then another: emerging from the fuzzy material all mussed-up and bright, and lovely. “No, we said we’d watch them all.”

“Darling,” laughing, “you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

Draco stuck his nose up, the gesture slightly ruined for the pink of his cheeks. “I don’t need to see it to follow. Quiz me, on any part. I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

“Oh no, I believe you,” Harry said quickly, half an excuse to wrap his arms around him, to press a mollifying kiss to his cheek. Pulling closer: “Come on, baby. This is stupid, and it’s getting late. Let’s go to bed.”

“No,” Draco still insisted, although he burrowed into him, leaned his head back. “Come on, press the button-thing. I have to know what, ah, Monica said to—Jerome.”

“Not even close,” Harry chuckled. “Did you catch any of it?”

“Of course. I caught it all. Come on, Harry, we’re not getting any younger, and I will not be the one to let our friends know we haven’t—argh!” when Harry grabbed him, “stop, stop, you goon, ah, the—fuck, Harry, with the tickling, have you no shame, a man comes to you vulnerable in half-sleep and you torture him, ah, ha, stop, stop!”

The words becoming shriekier and shriekier, delivered directly in his ear, and Draco was squirming in his arms, was too—an exhale, slightly shaky on how much, on how terribly much… buried his head in Draco’s neck, in the tacky warmth and the smell of the blanket and Draco’s shampoo.

“You’re impossible,” Harry said, muffled into his skin.

“I know,” with a smile so thick in his voice it was honey, it was gold. “So, what do you say. Another episode, no? Come on. Be a good boy for me, we both know you want to.”

“God, shut up,” just as it occurred to him: I’m going to spend the rest of my life with this man. The rest of his life. It felt bigger than a Wednesday-night, past eleven, Chinese takeout still sitting on dirty plates and re-runs of a silly 90’s comedy series on the telly. This, his Draco, with fluff from the blanket in his wild hair: it was so much bigger than anything he could have imagined.

“Fine,” helplessly, “one more. But just the one, Draco, I mean it. And then we go to bed.”

“Deal,” he smiled easily. Too easily: they’ll have the exact same argument when the episode’s over. Draco was a menace and Harry couldn’t wait.

Smugly, “Pansy will not be able to say she’s more well-versed in Muggle culture than I am.” Draco tucked himself under his arm, grumbled until he had the other one wrapped around him. Then the blanket, to cover them both, then his feet on the table, right in front of Harry’s face, obscuring half the screen. “All right?”

Breathing in deep: “Yeah, all right.” Pressed the remote control, and the sound of canned-laughter filled the living room.

Outside, the rain was still pouring, a continuous happy song Harry’s heart echoed. Inside, it was Wednesday, they both were so tired, and over-warmed, and massively, stickly, stupidly happy.

(Flufftober day 2. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[quinn-pop]

i’m at the metadad

i’m at the dededad

i’m at the combination metadad and dededad

[mangofanarts]

Tallulah asking Bad if she could spend more time with him another day! Since she's going to bed