#i am tagging him because of the developing

[anakinstwinklebunny]

i’ve read all the sam works and im so charmed! i wonder if you could expand on the birth and like the moments after? newborn vinnie 💞

PAIRING: sam monroe x newborn!vinnie

FLUFF ❦

The first time SAM MONROE held Vinnie, he nearly dropped him. Not on purpose, obviously. But no one prepared him for how small newborns were, how fragile they felt in arms. His hands were too big, too clumsy, too rough for something this tiny, this innocent.

Now, a few weeks in, Sam had developed a system. He called it The Forearm Hold; it wasn’t something he learned from a book or a video. It was pure survival instinct. Because between school, exhaustion, and his mom breathing down on his neck, Sam had to figure out how to function with a newborn attached to him 24/7.

So, Vinnie lived on Sam’s forearm.

Right now, Sam was standing in the kitchen, trying to make a sandwich one-handed, because his other arm was occupied with a whole-ass baby. Vinnie was curled up against his forearm, warm and soft, tiny bitty fingers gripping Sam’s pinky like it was the most important thing for him right now. Physical contact. His breaths were slow and even, making little newborn snuffles against Sam’s sleeve.

Sam sighed, shaking the knife slightly to get more peanut butter onto the bread. “Dude, you could at least help,” he muttered, glancing down at Vinnie’s scrunched-up face. “Lazy.” vinnie let out a little yawn. Didn’t even open his eyes.

Sam rolled his eyes but adjusted his grip slightly, making sure Vinnie was still snug against his arm before grabbing the second piece of bread.

His mom walked in, stopping short at the sight of him. “Sam.”

“What.”

“Hold him properly.”

Sam scoffed. “I am holding him properly.”

His mother just sighed, all tired of dealing with the teenager drama. She muttered something about Sam having to be responsible, and asked one more time. Sam sighed dramatically but shifted his arm slightly, cradling Vinnie a little closer to his chest. His mom still didn’t look convinced, but she must’ve decided to pick her battles because she just shook her head and walked off.

Vinnie, completely unaware of the discourse about his prime real estate sleeping spot, made a tiny sound, smacking his lips before settling back down.

Sam glanced down at him, exhaling through his nose. “You’re so weird, man.”

A few hours passed, and Sam was sitting on the couch, controller in one hand, baby in the other, because of course Vinnie was still glued to him. His newborn-sized leech. Vinnie was tucked up against his arm, face squished slightly, looking like a tiny, warm potato with a nose and a much drooling mouth. Sam was half-focused on his game when Vinnie let out the softest little sigh, wiggling slightly before settling back down.

Sam glanced at him, feeling something tighten in his chest. He nudged Vinnie’s tiny head with his thumb, barely touching his soft, soft hair. “Aight, fine,” he muttered. “You’re cool, I guess.” Vinnie didn’t respond. Obviously. Yet somehow, Sam knew he heard him anyway. He knew his little guy was more intelligent than he seemed to be.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl @fredswrite @mvst4far

[aventurineswife]

I am unfortunately obsessed with the blind old man we call Welt Yang 😔

Could I request a fic with a reader who is really quiet and reserved around other people, yet is somehow the most talkative person known to mankind when they’re alone with Welt? Like the minute everyone else leaves the room, they’re immediately rambling about their day or something they like. If not, that’s totally fine, I can see how this is kinda vague

I’m also here to compliment your writing because oh my god you’re one of the best writers on tumblr??? coming from another HSR x reader blog so I don’t really know any writers in other fandoms but whateverrr

“You Hear Me Like No One Else”

Summary: Welt has always observed your quiet and reserved nature aboard the Express. Though you rarely speak in the presence of others, once alone with him, you become the most talkative person imaginable. As the crew leaves for the night, you eagerly begin to share the details of your day, revealing a side of yourself that only Welt has come to know. Despite your hesitation, Welt reassures you that you’re not a burden and that he enjoys listening to you. Through these late-night conversations, you two develop a deeper bond built on trust, understanding, and shared moments of quiet connection.

Tags: Welt x Reader, Comfort, Slow Burn, Mentorship, Fluff, Character Development, Bonding, Quiet Confidence.

A/N: Hehe, thank you!! It means a lot to me, especially coming from another HSR x Reader blog 😭🥹💖

Welt had always been observant. It was second nature to him, a skill honed through years of navigating both intergalactic crises and the complexities of human nature. That’s why he noticed you immediately.

You were quiet. Reserved. Always listening, rarely speaking.

On the Express, the crew had come to understand your quiet nature and never pushed you to speak more than you wished. Himeko would offer warm smiles, March would chat animatedly without expecting much response, and even Dan Heng, reserved as he was, could only nod in mutual silence with you. It had simply become a fact of life aboard the Express: You weren’t much of a talker.

At least, not until the room was empty.

The first time it happened, Welt had been seated in the lounge, sipping his tea as the others slowly filtered out, leaving only the two of you behind. He hadn't expected much—perhaps a simple "goodnight" before you retreated to your quarters. But as soon as the door slid shut behind March and the others, something shifted.

You exhaled sharply, then turned to him, eyes bright with excitement.

"Okay, so you would not believe what happened earlier today."

Welt had barely set his tea down before you launched into a full-speed recounting of your day—the strange creature you saw outside the window, the book you found in the archives, the bizarre dream you had last night that somehow involved a sentient teapot leading a rebellion.

He had listened, utterly fascinated, as you transformed from the quietest member of the Express to the most talkative person he had ever met.

It became a pattern after that.

The moment the others left, the floodgates opened. Your voice filled the space between you and him, your hands animated as you spoke, words spilling out like a dam that had been waiting to burst. You spoke of trivial things and profound thoughts alike, your unfiltered excitement making even the most mundane details feel significant.

And Welt… found that he didn’t mind at all.

If anything, he looked forward to it.

Tonight was no different.

The rest of the crew had just finished a late dinner, the atmosphere warm and lively. As usual, you had sat quietly, nodding along to the conversation, offering a word or two when prompted but never more than necessary. Welt had caught your occasional glances in his direction, the subtle anticipation in your eyes. He knew you were waiting.

Then, as soon as the last person exited the room—

"So, you know how I was reading that book about lost civilizations? I finally finished it! And—"

You were off.

Welt leaned back, listening intently as you detailed every thought you had about the book, your theories, your frustrations, and—somehow—a tangent about what kind of tea ancient civilizations might have preferred.

He chuckled, adjusting his glasses as he rested his chin on his hand. "You seem rather passionate about this topic."

"I am! I mean, I don’t get to talk about it much because, you know, everyone else is busy with their own stuff, but—" You paused, suddenly self-conscious. "I’m not annoying you, am I?"

The concern in your voice was genuine, and for a moment, Welt simply observed you. You had been so comfortable just seconds ago, so freely yourself, and now you were hesitating.

He shook his head. "Not at all. I enjoy listening to you."

Your expression softened, and something in your shoulders relaxed. "Really?"

"Of course." He took a sip of his tea before meeting your gaze again. "It’s rare to see someone so reserved open up so completely. It’s… endearing."

A warmth spread across your face at his words, and you quickly looked away, pretending to be suddenly fascinated with your hands. "Well… it’s easy with you," you admitted. "You listen. And you never make me feel like I have to hold back."

Welt’s expression softened. He set his cup down, fingers idly tracing the rim as he considered his next words carefully.

"You don’t have to hold back," he murmured. "Not with me."

You looked at him then, truly looked, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, the moment passed, and you exhaled, shaking your head with a small smile. "Well, if that’s the case, I hope you’re ready for another hour of me rambling, because I just remembered something else I wanted to tell you."

Welt chuckled, settling in. "By all means."

And as you began talking once more, filling the space between you with warmth and laughter, he thought to himself—

Yes. He could listen to you forever.

[booksandberries]

#Save me mismatch yaoi#i’m taking my break because i could feel the despair creeping up on me. Let me mindpalace a little while#really i think it’s important for miyano’s development to regularly pull his fudan bullshit on somebody who categorically does not lie down#and accept it plainly. i think more than anything that hiramiya is a slapstick romance wherein hirano has no qualms about whacking sense#into miyano when he crosses some line of Polite society. and miyano has no qualms about Nevertheless continuing his fudan bullshit#this is all very funny because As we all very well know. hirano’s actually a pretty massive pushover if you push the right buttons. like be#kind of pathetic. or aimless. or need help really in any way. but unfortunately since the only help miyano needs is Maybe a bl detox. hirano#super does not care to pity him at all. so long as miyano can operate under the plausible deniability of Not bl if he doesn’t insert himself#he will continue to imagine in great detail hirano senpai in all manner of compromising situations. as an uke. miyano who has a lifelong#complex about his relationship to masculinity sees his cool guy senpai as an uke and As you’ve illustrated here mari. big-brainedly.#considers the logistics of small waist grabbing. hm hm hm. oh well miyano i’m sure that’s nothing#‘‘Not bl if he doesn’t insert himself’’ Okay but what if it’s just this one time when absolutely nobody else is around to be plugged into#this yaoi fantasy. most of which center on hirano senpai. Don’t dwell on it miyano. you’re only alone with him in a room#staring at his waist. Plausible deniability rule number 1 It’s not serious bl if you’re annoying about it. you can do an astonishing amount#of shameless bullshit miyano with a blank face. can’t you? Anyway this is how he ends up standing in front of hirano firmly bracing his#hands on his hips—Oops. he course corrects. the shift of skin gets caught on cloth—#and nodding with his big goddamn doll eyes blankly analyzing the data at hand. he gets knocked on his ass.#from the ground hirano senpai’s flush really does seem to span every inch of his skin. hm hm hm. oh well. Bigger fish to fry.#he’s about to bowl you over with a chair.#aaand scene. Where am i#hiramiya

literally the most correct tags in the world i needed them preserved

you've heard of sasakagi now i raise you hiramiya

[vazaez]

It has come to my attention that someone has been shittalking me and twisting up My words to make me seem like a creep, so i'm here to defend myself.

Here's what they said:

Good job making me look like a piece of shit over a fic i read out of curiosity because people kept mentioning it under my art, here's the conversation in question we had on Instagram, because You didnt give three shits before sharing bits and pieces of out of context messages no one else saw, making up your own version, i don't feel bad not giving a shit about showing the whole thing because i got nothing to hide.

And since you were too much of a coward to be straight with me i'll respect your wishes and keep you anonymous too.

I will translate the conversation, word for word, and i want everyone to judge if it actually correlates to what the initial post says, get your own conclusions, i don't need to fight to defend my point.

-about the possible fanfic they're mentionin on tumblr was possibly by a usar named izosso, but that guy is a proshipper and all the other fics in the tag are really weird💀

Telling you here because my tumblr account doesnt let me comment

•i saw them lol and i blocked izosso, but theres another fic by someone else [literally the only one of the ship that wasnt posted by izosso] who isnt a proshitter [as far as i know] and the fic is relatively good

-send me the link

•some things didnt really sit right with me but over all it's pretty good, they describe the dynamic almost the same as i imagined it skhd

It has a lot of smut, i just let you know because maybe that content is not your cup of tea

-going into the wild kratts Tag in AO3 is like playing the Russian roulette

Just send it to me to see what it's about

•yeah 😭 that's why i found it so weird so many people talking about the same fic

(I send the link) Here it is

-ahh yeah i found this one but i found the food sex tag weird

(Replying to my prev message) Me too

• ah yes, but it's not that much, it was put there more like a caution but no one stuck any food down any holes fortunately 🙏(clearly joking btw)

Well, besides the mouth

-thank god lol

Lmao hey out of curiosity, can i know what about it was it that you didnt like? I found it weird to see Chris as a bottom because i can't imagine him like that

•oh yeah no i do see it, he's too much of a diva 💔 (also clearly a joke?? Are we serious??) what i dislike the most is that Zach acts super weird

And the fact that there is smut at all, because it's a topic that causes me a lot of debate because he's a self insert and all

So i don't know how to feel about it, but it is well written at the very least lol

-same, it's like a 50/50 , in any case i think the fandom is gonna to form a dispute because there's a Lot of artists who font like that and when that happens i'm gonna be like Italy during WW2 lol

And yeah that thing with Zach was really weird *proceeds to call the police*

•LMAO yeah, i just try to not touch that topic much because it could always cause problems

Now where did i ever mention that i consume that content because i like it? Where did i ever sound like "an average Fujoshi"? When i very clearly said that what threw me off about the fic was the fact that there was smut at all

If what made you nauseous enough to try to ruin me was that i jokingly said he was a diva then i don't even fucking know what to tell you ??

The same curiosity you had to come and ask me for the link was the one that caused me to give the fic a try in the first place, so am i really more to be judged than you when we did the exact same thing??

Im an adult, i don't appreciate you going around saying "she still has some years for her brain to develop so i'll have faith!!" Like i'm some sort of idiot, you're barely a year older than me so be serious.

And i don't need you to go to some rando's asks to shit talk me and confess you had plans to talk crap about me to my friends because you had your own conclusions from a very specific conversation, and act like i was the one who still needs to get her shit together

Like what even is your point-?

Check yourself

And to call me a hypocrite on top of it all,,, just unbelievable

Who really is the hypocrite?

[redfacedpalindrome]

hi I’m the anon who asked about lando. thanks for your honest answer. and you’re totally good, you didn’t need to add an anti tag at all, in fact that’s the reason I felt comfortable enough to initiate a discussion with you because I didn’t see an anti tag in your tags.

so many times I think to myself that it should be the charles fans that should understand us lando fans the most because there’s so many parallels; both practically raise by their respective teams, both dedicating their entire (very lucrative) careers to their teams and being loyal and dedicated as fuck. yet somehow unfortunately it’s the charles fans (not you of course but majority of them) that are the most antagonistic towards lando as if he stole the wdc chances from charles and doesn’t deserve to fight for it despite the trials and tribulations that he himself has been through. I’ve gradually had to unfollow all Charles blogs I followed because there’s insane levels of negativity towards lando, to the extent of wishing death upon him. and I think it’s so sad cuz I actually used to enjoy charles as a driver, he’s really good and deserves so much better than the hand he’s been dealt. I just don’t understand the concept of making all of charles woes lando’s fault.

once again thanks for your decent and genuine response, wish you and your driver all the luck! x

okay anon who asked about lando 10000 years ago, it's possible you may never see this! and i am so sorry about that, this is so late.

but this is something i absolutely wanted to talk about and do it justice. because me personally (THIS IS MY PERSONAL OPINION) i think some of the enmity between cl16 and ln4 fans is crazy given how similar they are in my eyes.

charles and lando are different for a lot of reasons, yes, i'll acknowledge that right out of the gate. but i think both of them are accused of being really negative about their performances when, more than a lot of the drivers, they bring a profound optimism and positivity to their pursuits. both of them are very creative, pursue design and musical hobbies, but bring extreme determination to the track. and that loyalty they both have to their teams, that's such a central part of who they are.

i confess that i always hoped that the driver who would unseat max from consecutive wdc's would be charles. i wanted it badly, and i think in a lot of people's eyes it seemed 'right', since 2022 was kind of a battle between the two of them (before clown binotto ruined our lives). i think that contributes to that feeling that lando 'took' an opportunity from charles, but it's honestly kind of ridiculous and i can acknowledge that. (the true enemy is ferrari for never having their shit together it's fine idc this isn't a real problem in my life).

lando didn't take anything from charles because he put up with similar shit as charles basically for years. mclaren was also a team that was producing cars that didn't match the potential of their drivers, that struggled with the development and the infrastructure, etc. (okay i must admit idk anything about the past mclaren strategy team so maybe they were nowhere near as bad as ferrari in which i would say charles's 'asylum where they raised him' is measurably worse but maybe they were shit too). lando still honed his skills, did everything he could to contribute positively to the team (even as he had a rotating tableau of teammates), and maintained that loyalty to mclaren the tifosi appreciate from charles.

i'm not a huge fan of the rhetoric of 'oh max would do better in the new mcl car' 'oh charles would do better in the new mcl car' because if charles finally got a good fucking ferrari car and had a bad race or two and people started suggesting someone else could do better in the second good car ferrari produced in 100 years i'd go fucking feral. lando put up with like 6 years of mclaren being so mid and now they're back on top. he, as their longtime driver, deserves to have a good car and a good team backing him.

i'm a charles fan first and foremost – and thus i am of the personal opinion that charles is better than most at wheel-to-wheel and extracting the absolute maximum from a car. i think the way he loves an extreme setup is clinically insane and so fucking admirable. i love that he's never taken a fan for granted. if charles was in contention for the wdc i'd be fucking insufferable. and that's exactly why i maintain hope that lando continues to make a genuine play for the wdc this year. because in the same way that i feel charles deserves it for his loyalty and his effort, i cannot deny that lando deserves it as well.

anyway this is my application for some ln4-cl16 solidarity and also petition for them to have wdc battle (aka charles gets good car).

[theboardwalkbody]

This is a snippet of the Twister imagine (also the Reader-ish OFC / Dusty thing). It is very much written quickly and a literal play-by-play of how it was unfolding in my head in real-time. So not really structured as properly as a regular fic. Part of me WANTS to flesh it out properly for a fic but I also feel that if I try to it might just never happen where if I release it this way at least SOMETHING will get put out.

Anyway, this is how I introed it in my drafts:

I am in the mood for a fluffy, summery imagine so here's something (note - it's actually just me writing out the daydream I was having earlier) (note 2 - there is absolutely hints of 'reader' and dusty crushing on each other) (And here's another note - I ended up putting a read more cut due to length, I didn't realize this would be so long also it gets VERY Dusty/FReader under the cut all hints out the window really lol You know the 'only one bed' trope? yeah it's that, except there's only one shower oops - but there's nothing explicit sorry friends):

If you're interested I'd love feedback on if you'd prefer it to be released in ANY format (as in this style being ok or actual fleshed out story) OR if you're only really interested in a fully fleshed out / polished format. Again, I'll be honest, this might be the only thing I have motivation for (and it is still taking me some time) so IDK how a more "polished" thing would go BUT I am still interested in feedback. Or if you like where it's going or whatever. I'm considering switching from F!Reader to OFC if its more polished but that's not set in stone either. All of this is a lot of scenery so far. lol

INTRO TO FIC/IMAGINE/SOMETHING BELOW:

You're in the pool, at first sitting on the bench between Haynes and Laurence; she's reading a trashy gossip magazine (she would otherwise be on her phone doing the same thing but she's not one to bring valuable electronics around the pool even if they're water resistant), and he's got a book and nearby a waterproofed go-pro. Eventually you do decide to journey off the bench and begin simply walking a circle in the shallow-end. After about twenty minutes of what is basically your attempt at water-based exercise just for the heck of it you start feeling even warmer than when you'd first gotten in so you decide to actually submerge yourself up to your neck and explore the deep end; swimming back and forth between there and the shallow end. Every so often you sing softly along with the music but not loud enough for anyone to really hear.

Off the shallow-end on the deck Jo is getting in some sun on one of the lounge chairs. She's wearing brown-tinted sunglasses that, thanks to how dark they are, anyone could easily assume she was asleep but knowing Jo she's keenly aware of what everyone's doing. On the lounge chair next to her is Melissa (because I like to imagine they could all be adults and remain friends despite all the events they been through). Melissa, like you, is wearing oversized sunglasses. She has accented her swimsuit with a large sunhat. She has a novel in hand and her work cell on the table between her and Jo's chairs next to the pitcher of iced tea that is dripping with condensation. Melissa's glass is nearly empty where Jo's sits half full next to her almost empty bottle of Twisted Tea.

Over at the gazebo Bill, Joey, and Preacher sit, each with their own bottles of beer in hand. They're having a conversation but between the music and their distance from you, the sounds of the water as you swim through it, and the shouts from the rest of the gang the only bits of their discussions you can hear are their intermittent bursts of laughter. Scattered around the tables under the metal roof were bottles and cans of different beers and sodas belonging to the men otherwise unaccounted for by the pool and in the gazebo.

On the opposite side of the pool, the farther side of the yard, the open grassy area is being utilized by the rest of the group. The volleyball net had been taken down and gently placed along the fence to make room for a game of touch football. Dusty and Beltzer VS Rabbit and Sanders. This group was particularly raucous. Laughter, shouts of playful jabs, whoops of celebration, expletive exclamations of defeat and disagreement over calls. Occasionally one of them would call over to the gazebo group demanding a referee call - often answered by Joey who was paying slightly more attention to the amateur football game than his conversation buddies but occasionally answered by Bill if the debate was getting too heated.

At some point in your playlist the new Luke Combs song, Ain't No Love in Oklahoma, comes on which gets some of the group singing along, none more so than Dusty and Beltzer, however. The sound of them shouting along the words almost drowned out the actual audio from the speakers. It made you, Haynes, and Jo crack subtle little smiles. Jo because she enjoyed seeing her group having a good time, Hayne's because she enjoyed seeing Beltzer have a good time and found his singing enjoyable, and you because you enjoyed seeing Dusty having a good time and always thought it was cute when he would get so into things and just be fully and unapologetically himself; loud, fun, goofy, sweet - all of it.

[rin-sith]

This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: While it was clear to me that Odysseus stabbing Poseidon wasn't any kind of Vengeance, there was one act of Vengeance after all, even if inadvertent—it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining (and also because Odysseus sings it in Poseidon's own motif which is just absolutely brilliant.) And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

[marvey-sideblog]

"And it just happened to be empty?" "Something like that."

Suits 4x8 "Exposure" Mike returns to Pearson Specter and gets Harvey's old office.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

So, uh, to recap on the ladies of Andor, the pinnacle of progressive writing according to internet consensus:

Bix: After her character consisting only of "good at mechanics", formerly crafty (in the first Ferrix arc) and "traumatised", Bix gains a new character trait this arc - helpless rage and ✨✨✨drug addiction✨✨✨! Goodie. I'm so mad at this arc for her. We never see this woman happy independent of her trauma. We see her make happy for men - the shopkeep, Cassian occasionally, Brasso and co. in the first arc - but the only time we get an unobserved smile is when she gets her big Girlboss Yay Feminism revenge. And the featurette has everyone going "oh this is her moment", "this scene is about her" - IT'S NOT!! It's about Gorst! It's more trauma porn! Her happiness and functionality once again are dependent on men! She couldn't save herself from her trauma - she needed Cassian to help her get the drop on Gorst (and let's ignore how fucking improbable all that is for a moment, how does he even know where Gorst is???), and her happiness is fully dependent on Gorst living or dying. Her character does not EXIST without him this season. Why do we only ever see her take charge of her life to kill her abusers? The only other positive thing she's done for her life this whole season is to clean up the apartment, and she was doing that to *checks notes* hide her drug habit from her overprotective boyfriend. Feminism!! Please don't read this as an indictment of people struggling to cope with trauma, or substance abuse - I'm just so tired of everyone acting like this is such an uplifting, empowering narrative for this character, because I really, really, really don't see it.

Bringing up Maarva and Kerri as people Cassian failed to protect and nothing else is so telling. That's not even what happened! He was abducted as a child, he didn't abandon his sister, and what was he going to save Maarva from? Old age?? But that's their whole narrative purpose to the writers I guess...

Mothma: Well, I know the constant political downward trajectory is her whole thing, but we really spend the whole arc seeing her do nothing but failing to convince other politicians (mostly men) of anything and being made to look like a fool for even bothering. So far all we've given her this season is being too soft and emotional (which, by the way, is why it's a little odd to me they're pinning the same thing on Cassian - why do we need this narrative redundancy here?). And her one "big moment" (read: over thirty seconds of uninterrupted talking) she gets to have this arc is either a front for Kleya's and Luthen's business or a pointless and reckless lashing out at Krennic's overt imperialism and propaganda.

Dedra: Yeah, she's holding all the strings, but in a weird way, her whole narrative is dependent on Syril now, and I have a bad feeling this is all leading up to him being butthurt about being used. It's a great spy storyline, but just like Mothma's part, great as it is, in combo with the deeply uncool treatment of Bix, it starts to feel like an unfortunate pattern.

Cinta: I actually liked her scenes a lot! Especially the scene in the café - it had an interesting ambiguity, for a moment there I was wondering if Cinta was running Vel, getting back with her to keep her on track on someone's orders. I think I may be giving the script too much credit here, given how weirdly stilted the other two romances were handled this arc it might have rather been a case of "the writer really thinks lovers talk that way". But even if it was an accident, I think that would be an interesting feature in the show, because they're the one couple who genuinely seem to be compatible and on the same page about what they want! And I get that they were making a point to get her killed so uselessly, by friendly fire, on accident. But man, this show refuses to give a woman happiness, even for the span of a timeskip. Whenever any of the ladies seems happy or get something she wants for herself, you can already be sure she's about to die or have something incredibly heinous happen to her immediately after. And the execution of that scene pissed me off, because if that scuffle had even just been relocated to the tunnel entrance, I would have bought it. But no, they're in a really wide, mostly empty alleyway, the blaster was mostly pointed at a wall and trapped between the two men wrestling for it, and you don't even see anyone being close behind them, and yet Cinta not only manages to get hit but instantly killed - what are the fucking chances? And yes, it's a metaphor, but again, with the overall bad aftertaste, it feels targeted and cruel at this point. With how little we got to see of Cinta, it really made her death seem like an afterthought. Like Brasso, this could have packed a punch, but we knew so little about her and had seen her even less, so it just fell flat.

My only positives(ish):

Vel: Her character is really growing on me! She has such a nice, well-executed, subtle development compared to most other characters on this show. She's clearly learned from Aldhani, and she's learning from Mothma and Luthen, too, and her resentment at the life she's leading is so beautifully expressed by her last scene: The greatest punishment she can imagine is recruitment to her cause. Because that's what she's doing to this guy. Recruitment. This is on you forever, this is all your life is now, you owe me and everyone whatever you have to make up for this. That's so heartbreaking, and so real. Am I pissed that Vel is constantly and pointedly denied happiness at absolutely every turn? Yeah! But at least for her, it feels like there is a little more agency, because she chose this life, even though she clearly has options. For her, it feels a little more tragic and narratively weighty, and less like a pointless onslaught of misery.

Kleya: I love her so much. And I could (and should) point out that it feels a little shallow to have her be completely reduced to "being the only competent person among men who are losing their shit at all times". We know nothing else about her, other than that she is Girlboss(TM). But, unlike with Bix, we actually see her be outstandingly competent completely on her own merit all the time, and even though the script neglects her, too, there is an implication that she has actively and deliberately sacrificed the rest of herself to be this spymaster - instead of the writers simply forgetting to give her anything more. And I just think Elizabeth Dulau is KILLING IT. In a weird way, Kleya is giving me the power fantasy that most Star Wars gave to little boys. It's not exactly a win for feminism - it's yet another flavour of "women can either be competent and powerful OR express their emotions and be vulnerable with people" - but I do have a soft spot for her, and her moment at the exhibition was the tensest shit I've seen this whole season. Nothing more gripping so far than watching this woman attempt to turn a screw.

[electroniccollectiondonut]

I have not been in this fandom long enough to reasonably judge others' takes however. "EPIC fans are so silly to characterize odysseus as feeling guilty for his actions don't you know he's a war criminal" is definitely a wild one. like first of all to each their own so settle down and let people enjoy things ok. and secondly making choices with a bad outcome, even knowingly and deliberately, does not exclude the possibility of feeling bad about it later. in fact it makes for a much more in depth character because then you get to explore what he does or doesn't feel guilt over, and why, and if that guilt ever edges into regret or not.

[celestialrealms]

I just noticed Mephisto matches with Barbatos (who is matchy with Diavolo) in the anniversary outfits in his SSR memory card

These three were also the only three who had half masks in the masquerade event!!!

Anyway, The Royals with Mephisto chat group when? We got one for Purgatory Hall with Raphael..... it's just fair !!

And one for Mephisto and Diavolo as well, but also one for Mephisto and Barbatos too. because you can't tell me their relationship isn't deeper than the devs portray when Mephisto has lines like this about Barbatos's room:

[cum-a-calla]

.

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

And now, time for some oc writing!! Specifically, a self-contained piece for my SwSh oc Rex. I think of this as a sort of brief, non-chronological "timeline" piece for him, showing out-of-context snapshots to sort of give a sense of his main drive in the Legendkeepers story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy, this is my first time doing a format like this but I hope it isn't too confusing!

Context: Rex is my oc who follows the Shield storyline, becoming a champion of Galar and exploring the story and events in the Crown Tundra afterwards. His best friend, Ritsu, is a "Faller" who went missing when they were children, and never came back. This follows Rex and how he handles this disappearance as he gets older.

•••

Rex was eleven years old when he first heard the news that his best friend was reported missing. He was worried, of course. He loved his friend dearly. But, in the way you do when you're eleven, he also felt a sureness of how the world worked in a way that didn't always turn out the way it by all rights should have. 

"Yeah, mum and dad have been losing their minds over it. You'd think the world was ending over here, never mind how Ritsu’s parents have been handling things," Rex said rather blithely to Hop, his neighbor and longtime friend. Ritsu's longtime friend. Hop, perched on the stone wall next to Rex, tilted his head at him, confused. 

"They said Ritsu's gone though, right? That sounds awful serious to me," he countered, concern lacing his expression. Hop, by this point, had gathered the nature of the situation well before Rex did. Rex shrugged, swinging his feet aimlessly, heels battering the old stone wall beneath him. 

"I dunno. I mean, it can't be that bad. His parents are always making a fuss if Ritsu misses so much as snack time, and you know he's aces at building super secret bases. He prolly just made a new one and didn't tell them," Rex explained, hopping off the wall with a muted 'oof'. 

"Hey, maybe next time we go visit, we should ask him if we can sleep over in it! I bet it's so cool no one would ever wanna leave, and that's why no one's seen him yet!" He added excitedly. Hop nodded, eyes brightening, the enthusiasm infectious. 

"Yeah, that'd be awesome!" 

•••

Rex was ten years old when his parents were ready to let him take on his first Pokemon. Rex had been eagerly waiting for the day. Bursting with excitement when they told him the good news. But he asked, as politely as he'd ever asked anything, that he wait a year before getting one. 

"Rex, dear, this is all you've ever talked about for so long! I don't mind, but why the change of heart?" His mother inquired, surprised. 

"I was thinking I want to wait until Ritsu can get his, so we can get ours together and they can be bestest buds just like we are!" Rex beamed. His parents exchanged fond, if somewhat anxious glances. 

"I don't have a problem with it," his dad chimed in. 

"But... Ritsu may not even want a pokemon. You know how he gets around them," he added carefully, watching his son for his response. Rex, unphased, shook his head. 

"It'll be fine! He'd feel loads better if he had one looking out for him, I know he would! And so'd his parents! I bet if they quit nagging him so much they'd all learn pokemon can be really cool too!" 

"Rex! That's no way to speak about them!" His mother scolded him with a huff. Rex merely gave a cheeky shrug. 

"It's true though!" 

•••

Rex was fifteen years old when he decided to take on the gym challenge. His parents protested his decision, but he didn't care. He was tired of them getting on his case all the time anymore. Always the same thing, nag nag nag. Ever since Ritsu had disappeared, both his mum and dad had gone insane about keeping track of Rex, holding him accountable at all times. Rex was fed up with it. 

"Ready to go, Miki?" He whispered to his Charmander, sitting on the bedroom sill next to him. Miki wagged her tail, the embers flickering in a mesmerizing fashion in the early dawn light. 

"Char!" She squeaked eagerly. Rex shushed her, brushing a fingertip down her nose gently as a tactile reminder. He grinned down at the charmander in her little red bow. 

"Alright. Let's go then, before we wake mum and dad," he murmured, gesturing with a free arm. Miki took the cue, hopping onto his shoulders, clinging for all she was worth. Rex took a final look down the wall, and - judging it clear - hauled himself down the side, keeping a solid hold on the windowsill now above him. He felt around for good footholds, inching his way down. Normally he'd have no qualms about just dropping right down into the bush below, full force. But he had to be quiet. 

Miki whimpered slightly as Rex slid a little, missing what he thought had been a good ledge. She clung tighter as he fumbled around, adjusting his handholds once he felt his legs were stable. Rex took another look down. Should be good enough, right? 

"Hold on, Miki," he whispered, and with a push he launched himself off the wall, landing on his feet below just in front of the bush. The momentum carried him into a kneel, and he rammed his knees down into the grass with a pained grunt. Oh, he'd be feeling that one later. But that was later, and this was now. And right now, he had to go meet with Hop. 

"Whew.... Alright," Rex muttered to himself, shaking off the lingering pain from his graceless landing. 

"Let's go!" 

It would be several hours before his parents discovered what happened. Rex would be long gone for Wedgehurst by then, and fresh off of what would be his first of many legendary encounters.  

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stared down death for the first real time. As he placed himself between Leon and Hop, the latter crying for the former to wake up, pull himself together, Death stared down at the scene before it with a blank apathy. Rex glowered up at the unfeeling hand just waiting to scoop them all up within its chilling grasp. He didn't care what it thought it was, it was out of line! 

The creature - Eternatus, presumably - thundered a hollow, alien cry, and Rex readied his pokeballs. It'd have to kill him and his team before it could get to Hop and Leon. 

•••

Rex was still sixteen years old as he tackled the chairman to the floor of the power plant. He'd never cared much for the man and his glib manner of speaking, but it had never been personal. Before now, that is. 

Now? He wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay for what he did. For endangering his pokemon. For endangering Leon. For endangering Hop, and nearly putting him through another loss. For nearly putting Rex through another loss. 

Well. Rex almost wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay.  

Rex was sixteen years old as the other adults hauled him off of the beaten and battered chairman, voices blending together into a thick stew of concern and shock, worry and admonishment. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he was escorted from the Hammerlocke gym, into a throng of cameras and microphones pushing and shoving greedily towards him, ready to feed. 

Rex was sixteen years old as articles scrutinizing him flew off the press and as news reporters used his name as they would that of a storm in the daily weather report. 

Rex was sixteen years old, a hero of Galar. A public figure.

Rex was sixteen years old when he became the Champion.

Rex was sixteen years old. 

•••

Rex was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, when he attended his best friend's funeral. He didn't understand why. Ritsu was still missing. Not dead. 

According to the adults, it was because there were no leads, no sign of Ritsu anywhere at any point, and so they had to assume the worst. Well, then the adults hadn't looked hard enough! That wasn't Ritsu's fault if they were bollocks at searches. They shouldn't have been giving up on him just for that. 

Rex stood amid a mass of black, holding his baby charmander close to his chest. That shouldn't be out, someone had scolded, put it back in its pokeball. 

No, Rex had said, standing firm. Miki has just as much right to be here as anyone. She wasn't hurting anything.

The adults continued to shoot him looks for the orange bundle in his black-clad arms. He let them. 

Miki had been there for him through all of this. She didn't deserve to be cooped up in some ball just because the others thought she was lesser. 

At least Hop understood. Over half of the times that Rex had looked up to see a disapproving glare sent his way, he also saw Hop giving them a hard stare of his own, inching himself in the middle of the line of sight. Rex would give an appreciative smile and Hop would hit him with a small grin of his own. 

"You don't have to handle this alone", it seemed to say. 

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood next to his best friend Hop, in the midst of a panicked evacuation from the Darkest Day heralding the end of the world.

“Aaaagh, shit. How are we going to find Leon in this mess?” Hop bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, trying to crane his neck to see past the people flooding out of the building. 

“Stay calm. If there’s one thing I’ve learned researching about Ritsu, it’s-”

“Oh, drop it about Ritsu for one damned second!” Hop swore. Rex faltered, startled. Around them, alarms blared and a cacophony of voices swarmed in all directions around them. 

Rex stared back at Hop, brows furrowed in a question he was too speechless to ask. Hop waved his arm in a sweeping motion towards everything. 

“Now’s not the time! Just look at this! We have to focus on the now, on saving my brother!”

Rex found himself protesting without fully meaning to.

“Well, yeah, obviously. I wasn’t saying otherwise. I was jus-”

“No, I know! But it’s not the same! It’s not! The same!” Hop interrupted, voice raising.

 “My bro’s still alive! Ritsu’s dead! He’s been dead, and I’ve let it go all this time that you keep blithering on about bringing him back or whatever, but now’s not the time!”

Rex fell still. Hop glared him down for a moment before it was clear no one was going to make a move otherwise. 

“Ugh, screw this! I’m going to go find Leon! Or the chairman. Or. Something!” Hop scoffed, whirling on his heel and running off into the amorphous cloud of people.

Rex hesitated. 

He had to go help too. 

His feet felt welded to the floor. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood, lost and alone in a crowd of people fleeing the end of the world. 

•••

Rex was sixteen, going on seventeen years old, as the wind blustered around him, stealing his heat from his bones. He paid it little mind, all attention trained on the pokemon before him, its absurdly large head bobbing around in front of him. Chief Peony likewise bobbed in the air, suspended with telekinesis Rex had wagered, expression almost peaceful as words were spoken through him. 

"I am Calyrex. I am the one known as the King of Bountiful Harvests. I have borrowed this man's body in order to thank you in person...so to speak."

The wind was surely stealing Peony's heat away. He hoped the chief could hold out a little longer. 

•••

“Hold out just a little bit longer, Ritsu.”

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, as he muttered this into his palm. He sat sullenly in his room, staring out the window, grounded for the third time that month for trying to take a train - and then ultimately, a plane - to Hoenn all by himself. 

He was tired of waiting for the adults to get off their arses and find his friend! It was obvious he needed to take matters into his own hands! Not that his parents listened to a word he’d say. What would they know? 

Dejectedly, he flipped through the pages of a worn comic book issue with one hand, disinterested in the panels and words he’d read over a dozen times by now. Only one speech bubble happened to catch his eye by chance as the pages scattered past, a shout bubble belonging to a desperate hero.

“Hold out a little bit longer.”

It was a phrase used often enough, especially in his favorite comics. Seriously enough. Ritsu was fine, Rex knew he was. But it felt appropriate, somehow, to apply it to the situation. 

Hold out a little bit longer. 

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, when a knock on the door distracted him from a troubling line of thinking. 

•••

“Hold on there, Rex,” Rex’s mum had laughed gaily, keying the number into the rotom phone. Rex, twelve years old, sat shoulder to shoulder with Hop, bouncing his knee in impatience as the egg before him glowed gently. 

“But dad’s going to miss it!” Rex whined. 

“He’ll still get to meet the baby pokemon that’s come out of it,” Leon reassured over the speaker. Rex had insisted everyone be present, even if it meant Hop called his brother while Rex’s mum tried - and failed - to reach his dad. 

“It’s supposed to be a charmander, right?” Hop asked his brother. 

“Could be.” 

Rex startled from his pout, and his head whipped to the phone in Hop’s lap. 

“You said it was an egg from your charizard, guaranteed!”

“I mean, who can really tell with eggs?” Leon laughed. Rex had just about wound up a retort when a telltale crack sound snapped in front of him. All eyes trained on the source. 

The egg was hatching. 

Everyone watched, spellbound, as the egg broke open in a blaze of light. A little orange lizard sprawled out from the broken shell, stretching with a tiny squeak of effort, before large aquamarine eyes turned up curiously towards Rex. 

“Hullo there,” Rex whispered, leaning closer to the tiny charmander. 

“Want to be my friend?”

•••

Rex was twenty five years old as he stood, uncertainly, in Eterna forest, an aged flute clutched in both hands. Beside him, Miki, his charizard and most faithful companion, leaned down to huff at the instrument. Rex chuckled, and stroked at her muzzle soothingly. 

“Yeah, I hear ya. ‘S now or never, huh?” 

At his other side, Calyrex nodded sagely. 

“It’s time, Rex,” they confirmed. Rex took a deep breath in. And out. Then, holding the time flute up to his lips, he began to play. 

The trio heard a noise akin to if glitter were a sound, and a delighted laugh chimed across the forest. Rex opened his eyes to see Celebi, hovering in front of him expectantly. 

“Calyrex?” Rex prompted, still nervous. Calyrex nodded. 

“Celebi is ready,” they affirmed. Rex nodded, a smile starting to spread across his lips as it sank in. 

He’d done it. 

He’d finally be bringing Ritsu home. 

Rex was twenty-five years old as he looked Celebi in the eye and said,

“Let’s do it, then. Take me back to Hisui.”

[deconstructivesurgery]

controversial post but i think i'm just too much of an actual adult to be into hlvrai shipping. none of them are kissing on the mouth. none of em.

especially not gordon and benrey. they are however the world's worst roommate. worsties, if you will. gordon gets a notification every time he looks at that uncanny shitass gamer and it says "newsflash: the worst person you know is hysterically funny sometimes" and the funny aspect is just endearing enough that it prevents him from going entirely looney tunes insane

likewise benrey looks at him through the lens of like "man my new friend I found at the end of the world alien event is fucking mean to me sometimes for no reason. this surely has nothing to do with me, benrey, because I am normal and excellent at making friends on PSN." but also he mutually just finds him fun enough that he's genuinely distraught when it turns out gordon actually fucking hates him and isn't picking up on any of his (incomprehensible) bullshit about not wanting to be an antagonist

literally tldr: why would you ever want to make their relationship into anything else when the "wow everyone else here is so strange (mildly lovingly and also with a fair amount of dread and frustration). glad I'm the only normal person here" dynamic is there and 10x funnier than any possible outcome in which neurotic gordon freeman makes out with low res security guard

and also there are literally 3 other deranged individuals ripe for you people's enjoyment. go get them.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Ooookkay. I. Reached the end of the magazines. How bittersweet. I did lose my mind over some things but I. I'll save those for a rainy day.i had several thoughts containing several "L" words. Such as. "Loser". Yes. Hrm. That's the word. And never anything else ever. My . My heart is. My heart is ffffffuuuuuhh..fucked! Ha! You thought I was going to say "full", didn't you! Heah!ha!haeuwhehauahahahaha!!..; ah. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Just

. Okay 9kay just once I'll say it just once and then I'll make an attempt at going to sleep okay! I, Kane,- *mic cuts out*

[askaceattorney]

Dear E.M.E.W,

No, and I don't believe anyone has to share your disability to relate to them. Chief Mod Edgeworth is also Autistic and relates to my little brother, even though he has PTSD and is a man.

Papa is a man of perfection, so rest assure if I did have any mental or physical disability, he would have had me checked and diagnosed.

- Franziska von Karma