#i am tagging him because of the developing

[flowersforthemachines]

Rate Your OC

thank you to @lucaanis @larkinna and @pinkvbay for tagging me <3 (and even standing on your knees, for some. woah)

Compassion: CONTEXTUALLY 9/10. I often think about that moment in ATEOHW when she tells Lucanis she picked the place she wants him to kill her in based on how easy it would be for him to get back from there on his own. Very normal!

But it's all very situation-dependant. She'll go all the extra miles for those she cares about, but won't spare a thought for others who stand in her way at all.

Bitterness: 3/10 with occasional spikes towards 8/10

Happiness: 5.5/10 pre-canon, 8/10 mid-canon [specifically around Bloor of Arlathan], 4/10 post-canon

Politeness: 5/10

Chivalry: I Don't Know. 6/10? But I'm eye-balling it here

Pride: 6.5/10

Honesty: post-canon 2/10. Local First Warden avoids talking about her feelings like it's the Blight

Love: 100/10. Top-1 woman who knows when she's in love and readily accepts it always <3

Bravery: 0-10. Because she's a coward (cough I'd rather die before anyone I love does so I don't have to deal with the grief cough). But she's also very brave in some other aspects. Complexities.

Recklessness: 9/10

Ambition: 2/10. Would be completely content to just be your ordinary run-of-the-mill warden. But alas!

Loyalty: 11/10 (she is also guard dog-coded. to ME)

Sense of family: 1/10. She was taken to the Circle when she was pretty young, and never really developed a sense of wanting/having familial relationships after that

Attractiveness: You know what, I am not rating that. You can rate her in the rb tags/comments if you feel so inclined. My judgement is my own.

Agility: 8/10

Sex drive: 8.5/10. Ghilasara who doesn't imagine relationship progressiong without having sex at least within the week after you get together VS Lucanis who needs to build up to Holding Hands is a beloved dynamic of mine.

Tagging @taamlok @inquisimer (can I see Marisol pretty please 🥺), @thewardenisonthecase (for Elisabeth, if you would <3), @hightowerqueen (for Bea OR Donella. whichever you prefer) @whispersleo (I Wish To Hear About Belasko) @sha-brytols (pls Esther facts. please) if you want to participate!

[vibratingskull]

Hi dearest first I hope you're fine 💗

I am so excited to see you opened your requests

Can I ask for Thrawn×reader. She is one of his best officers at the chimera, but she tends to try and stay away from him because she is afraid he will figure out what she hides.

She was actually born with a defect in he eyes she has red eye(yes, purposely red because chiss has red eyes ...) and because of that, she was treated like a monster by others and everyone thought her to be some kind of demon, including her family from a young age(she is originally from a very homogeneous human planet)

So she has learned to hide it she wears eye contact and keeps a pair of sunglasses at reach . But what if she helps Thrawn in a battle and he ends up finding out.

Sorry if it's too long or you don't like to ignore me. Again, I hope you are well.

I dear anon 💗 I'm fine thank you 💗 I am excited to open them back once again, I missed writing for my blueberry husband!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Thrawn x F!reader°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tags: Pre-relationship, space battle(mentionned), Thrawn interest is picked, fluff

BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP BIP... 

You wake at the sound of the alarm. The Chimaera is under attack! 

You jump into your uniform and frantically search for your contacts, but a huge tremor makes you reconsider. Putting on contacts when the ship trembles so much is a sure way to get hurt! You open your drawer, put on your sunglasses and run into the corridor, fighting your hair into the reglementary bun. 

You rarely use your sunglasses, because you usually have the time to put on your contact lenses, giving you cute (color) eyes instead of their ‘natural’ red. 

If you can even call it natural. 

You sprint with your colleagues, each gaining their posts throughout the entire ship. Everyone knows where to go and what to do; the Chimaera is a well-oiled machine, Grand Admiral Thrawn made sure of it. 

“Hey girl!” Karyn  greets you, running with you, “What’s with the sunglasses?” 

“Oh, hum, I have light sensitivity issues.” You lie on the fly. 

“Since when?” She asks, furrowing her brows 

“Recently. I think I am developing migraines.” You improvise. 

“Oh Frost! Don’t get one on the bridge, we need you at full capacity!” 

“Yes Ma’am!” 

You don’t know who was guarding the bridge during Grand Admiral Thrawn and Karyn’s absence, but they’re going to get it, precipitating the Chimaera into battle like that! You enter the bridge to discover the officer leading the bridge in complete panic, trying to coordinate all the teams and offer real opposition to the attacking forces. 

“Senior Captain, report!” Karyn demands. 

They spin toward you, visibly stressed. 

“Commodore Faro! Commander (F/n)! They came out of nowhere! I did not have time to-” 

“Report, Senior Captain!” Karyn barks. 

“5 freighters, 3 corvettes, and 7 cruisers Ma’am. They embushed us.” 

“The rebellion?”  

“More probably a local Pirate gang.” You intervene, looking at the screen, “The location is a bit too perfect for an ambush, clearly they know the area well. The formation is also very peculiar, they remind me of...” 

“The Anzati?” Karyn completes. 

“Precisely.” You nodded, “That’s going to be a problem, those are not simple Pirates like I first thought.” 

“What are they then?” The Senior Captains asks, trying to calm down. 

“They are hunting for food.”  

“...That’s all?” 

“We are the food in this precise moment.” Karyn explains, “This is an humanoid species that eats intelligent races’ brains.” 

“Oh... Oh Kriff! Oh Maker! What should we do?” 

“Fight back, obviously.” You simply respond, “hold on until Grand Admiral Thrawn is ready.” 

“Where is he? Why is not here already?” They panic 

You and Karyn look at the Senior Captain who really should take some anxiolityc. 

“He is getting ready. Do not question a Grand Admiral.” Karyn reprimands them harshly. 

“... Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am.” The slowly calms down, taking big breath. 

This one is too young to be a Senior Captain already. They are not ready for leadership yet. 

You observe all the screens, the bridge is well enough lit for you to see despite your sunglasses. You take your chin between your fingers, deeply thinking. 

“So what do we have?” Karyn demands the bridge 

“A freighter and a cruiser down, Ma’am.” Pyrondy announces. 

“Good. Send me all the data and their trajectories, I want an entire scan of their group and the list of their weaponry, stat!” 

"Commodore, how are things presenting?” A deep, regal voice rises behind you. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn appears, finishing buttoning his sleeve. 

“I am sorry for my lateness. I see you are handling things.” 

“Two ships are down, we still have 13 to go.” She explains, “Ranging from simple freighters to armed Cruisers.” 

“A thorny problem, but not a world-ending situation.” Thrawn philosophically notes, sitting down in his commanding chair, “That will be a welcome exercise for our ensigns. Commander (F/n), tell me what you’re seeing on the screen.” 

“An Azanti formation, a tight one. They are moving into a scissors formation.” 

“Azanti? Interesting.” Thrawn thoughtfully says 

“Interesting problematic, or interesting amusing?” Karyn asks, reviewing the data on her datapad. 

“Amusing, obviously.” You add with a grin, “Nothing is problematic against the Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

“I appreciate your faith in me, Commander (F/n). Let us hope it is not misplaced.” 

It isn’t 

You’ve learned to trust your Grand Admiral... peculiar techniques and strategies, but his results are immaculate! You have yet to see him defeated once. 

Those Azanti may feed on brains, but they will need to put theirs upside down if they hope to win against Grand Admiral Thrawn 

“If I may suggest, Sir. Our sensors detect an important quantity of gas emanating from the nearby planet. Cracking a match here would make for a  beautiful show.” You notify him. 

Thrawn nods. 

“Glad to know at least my Commodore and my Commander are level-headed before an enemy.” 

The Senior Captain cringes, trying to make themself invisible by not looking at Thrawn directly. 

“Noted, Commander. Let’s offer our guests a flamboyant welcome in the Empire’s territories.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You open your eyes with a groan of pain. 

What the hell just happened? 

You were ordering the crew, sending data to Thrawn, and evaluating the evolution of the battle when... a Blackout in your brain occurred. 

You look around to discover the bridge in shambles, people on the ground and whimpering, screens fuming and broken, a new alarm blaring off.  

And you understand. 

They threw one of their ships at you. 

And you hit your head. 

“Get up, Commander (Y/n), the battle is not yet over.” A large hand grabs your arm to help you to your feet, “Help gather the wounded and... Your eyes.” 

You spin your head towards Grand Admiral Thrawn, disheveled and with a bleeding cut at his cheek, still holding your arm, fixing your face, squinting at you in controlled surprise. 

Your sunglasses! They are on the ground! 

You tear yourself from Thrawn’s grip and grab your glasses, hurriedly putting them on in a panic. You spin toward your superior and stand to attention in the same movement. 

“Gathering the wonded, Got it Sir!” 

And you run away! 

Frost! 

Frost! Frost! Frost! Frost! 

You managed to keep the secret for so long! And especially from him!   

You ring the Med teams and direct them to the scene. When you sneakily look back at your Grand Admiral, he is leading the rest in the battle, already forgetting you. 

Good. 

You help the Medics to clear the victims from under the rubble and fallen stations. The last wounded ensign is evacuated, and a Medic grabs your arms. 

“You are bleeding from the face, Ma’am. We must examine you.” 

------------------------------------------------------ 

You are lying in your bed in the medbay, in a privatised room, courtesy of your rank. You scroll through your datapad, remotely working. You could not help for the rest of the battle, but you can always operate the support teams and technicians for the repairs. 

You are sending the last group when a knock on your door can be heard. You hurriedly put back your sunglasses on when Grand Admiral Thrawn entered. 

“Commander.” He greets politely 

“Grand Admiral.”  

“The Medic in charge told me your wounds were not dire. You should be up in no time.” He approaches the bed, hands clasped behind his back, looking as regal as ever. 

You note with amusement that he took the time to coiff back his hair and dress the cut of his cheek. 

“Good.” You nod, “I do not like remaining inactive.” 

“Inactivity is a breeding ground for complacency.” Thrawn agrees, “How do you feel?” 

“Shaken up, but I’ll get over it.” You promise your superior. 

“I know you will.” He notes, sitting down on the stool next to the bed, “You are one of my most precious elements, I need you operative as soon as possible.” 

“Dutily noted, Sir.” 

You both remain silent for a moment. You clear your throat, a bit uncomfortable. Thrawn visiting his wounded officers is nothing out of the ordinary, but he usually stays at the footboard and leaves rapidly.  

But you kinda guess why he remains this time. 

He turns his head to you, looking into your eyes through the smoky glass, back straight as ever. 

“Your eyes are of a peculiar color.” He finally drops 

“I would appreciate you keep it a secret, Sir.” 

“Understadable. Bad memories?” 

“A lot. Traumatic ones. I don’t want to relive them.” You slouch 

His gaze lowers to the cover of the bed, like he was thinking for a bit, before rising back to face yours. 

“I was surprised.” He reveals. 

“Yes, that is not a common color in humans.” 

“No. I was surprised you were able to keep it a secret for so long, especially from me.” 

You smile a bit sadly. 

“I am one of your most precious element.” 

He chuckles slightly. 

“I guess you are indeed.” He clasps his hand on his lap, “Have you investigated how this red eye color could have happened?” 

“Not a lot.” You shrug, “Our safest bet is that I inherited the genes from both my mother and father. We theorise that aliens with red eyes crossed paths with their ascendants centuries ago and mated with them, and the gene is recessive.” 

“... Could those aliens be...?” He asks before falling mute, closing his expression 

“Chiss?” You complete, “Maybe. It is a possibility.” 

He nods, looking down as he rubs his hands pensively. 

“That would be quite a coincidence.” 

“It would, yes. That’s why I was... torn.” 

“Torn?” He frowns. 

“About you.” 

He raises an eyebrow, mildly amused at your insolence.  

“I wanted to get to know you better, to maybe learn about my possible ancestry. But I did not want to get exposed, and you would have pierced my secret in one hour flat.” 

“Is that why you took care to always evade and avoid me, Commander?” 

You wince. 

“It was that visible?” 

“To me it was.” 

“I am sorry, Sir. I meant no disrespect.” 

“None taken, Commander. You always took your job seriously and successfully led your missions, so I let it fly.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But if you still wish to learn about your possible ancestors, you know where to find me (F/n).” 

You look at him incredulously. 

“... You would?” 

Him, revealing to you the Chiss ways? Their civilisations and rules? He who always kept them secrets even to the Emperor? 

“Yes. You may be part of my home, the only one I ever knew. I think it is beneficial to know where we come from.” 

“... Thank you Sir.” 

“And I am curious about you.” 

Your eyes round up in surprise. 

“Sir?” 

“Not everyone is able to hide a secret from me for so long. You intrigue me Commander (F/n). I want to know you better.” 

You cannot help but feel your cheeks getting on fire. And as Chiss can see heat signals of the body, he definitely sees it. 

Wich worsens it even more. 

“I am not forcing you into anything, Commander.” He lets you know soothingly. 

“I know! I know, Sir... I am simply surprised. You are such a secret man.” 

“Maybe... You will learn some of my secrets, one day? Who knows what fate has in store for us.” 

You nod, your entire face on fire. You lower your gaze before his, too embarassed. 

“Would you allow me to see your eyes again?” 

You raise your head. 

“Sir?’ 

‘”I just want to see them again for a minute. Would you allow it?” 

You grab your sunglasses with an hesitation and take them off. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn dives into your gaze, looking thtough your soul, exposing your inner self before him 

You gulp. 

“They are beautiful.” He lets you know thoughtully. 

The fire of your skin worsen. 

You always kept a distance between you and him, but a part of you was undeniably attracted and seduced by that man! You always remained away from him, but your soul and heart were yearning to know that mysterious chiss. 

And now he wants to know you better and casually compliments you? Phew! Your heart can’t take much more! 

You feel about to burst. 

He grins. 

“I am overstepping my current position, I should leave. I wish you a good rest, Commander. We will see each other. Very soon...” 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje @helrose8

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Chapter 5] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

Not much mark on this chapter, but i have to write this part because it is basically the catalyst that triggered the entire events that will follow. Mostly acted on by Vanessa and that becomes a whole other problem as well. WE ARE CLOSER TO THE MAIN STORY THOUGH AAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

Note: again, before y'all decide to cancel me in the near future, i am updating tags regularly in each chapter because i ain't putting all my energy into typing and editing the tags for the previous chapters. PLEASE READ THEM!!!!

Reader is turning 14 soon , Mark is 13

prologue

previous chapter , ???

T.W / Tags: Slow-burn, Soft yandere, pining, mark is bat shit crazy but he good dw, baby-trapping, teen pregnancy, yandere variants, mark a lil pushy, breeding kink, jealous Mark Grayson, talks of abortion, misunderstandings, possessive Mark Grayson, murder, gore, child-murder(variant!readers), attempted suicide, murder-suicide(variant!readers), OOC, prob need more tags, Heavy Physical Bullying This Chapter

Your day started off bad and it also ended much worse.

You stand in the ruins of a city, arms crossed on your well developed chest. your white and grey tight skin suit littered with gashes from the fight between you and a kaiju.

The beast roared for a second to make its presence known, both of you in an intense stare down waiting for the other to make its move. Your hair adorned with a white streak to similar to your mothers.

You didn't wait, you didn't want to give it time. So you flew right onto the monsters snout and gave it a good punch with your bare knuckles. It staggered a few meters back and you didn't give it enough time to recover as you held your hands out, the tingling feeling of your powers making it effect on the beast as it whimpered.

It's face began to contort followed by its body curling into a ball midair before it turned into a flesh sphere. It fell somewhere in the city for the GDA to find.

As you lower yourself back to earth, you were met with the praises of civilians.

"Empress Crusader! We love you!"

"Empress! Look here!"

The praises got into your head, flipping your hair coolly as you walked through and they part for you like the red sea.

At the end of the crowd, stood there was Mark, he was older and he was wearing his civilian attire. His blue sweater with two lines across and his yellow undershirt peeked out from underneath his sweater. You see him smile at you, clapping at your victory.

"Wow (Name) you were really great back there!" he says as he took you by the hand.

"Thanks Mark!" You blushed, hold his hand tightly on yours as you both leaned closer to one another.

"So, do you wanna hang out in my place later?"

Mark smiled as he eagerly accepted.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

You two leaned closer, nose brushing as you two slowly close the gap. Lips nearly touching as you close your eyes.

Then without warning the sky turned red, the wind picked up as you pushed Mark behind you to protect him. The clouds morphed and turned into a face, a gnarly and grotesque face appears, glaring at you from below.

"Who are you?" You yelled, covering Mark as he cowers from behind you.

"Ms. Aguilar..." The face spoke

"How do you know my name!" This time you were in a defensive stand, ready to take action.

"Ms. Aguilar..." This time the face spoke angrily.

"Wake up..."

"huh?"

"WAKE UP!"

You jolted awake from your nap. The pencil firm in your hand flew off the table, the papers you were sleeping on wet from your drooling. You scanned the room in a panic, your ears picking up the snickering from the other side of the room.

Right, you were in your first class doodling about your hero costume on some spare papers you had on your bag, then somehow you fell asleep in the middle of his class.

Mr. Harrington raised a brow at you, one hand on a ruler he had been using to slap the whiteboard at the front earlier in class and the other on his waist before he slapped the ruler on your desk again.

"Awake now Ms. Aguilar?"

You nodded vigorously and wiping away the drool from your mouth.

"Sorry Mr. Harrington, I didn't have enough sleep last night." You sheepishly smiled, cursed Demon Manslaughter and its great amination because by the time the anime was done, you only have 3 hours left to sleep.

Glaring at Rebecca's goons from across the room when you see them fake sleeping clearly mocking you while a friend of hers laugh.

"Detention after (Name), don't even think of skipping." He points his ruler on you before he made his way back to the front of the class, continuing where he left off.

You let out a groan. Fuck high school.

-

It's been a year since you have your unrequited crush on your next door neighbor.

A year since you both finally became freshmen in high school.

A year since you lied about liking Todd.

And you don't know who, but someone told her that you like Todd.

You should have seen it miles away. The way she bat her lashes at Todd, the way she smiled like he was the most important person in her life, the way she changed based on his preferences.

God, you should have known that Rebecca White, your long time bully, had a fat fucking obsession crush on Todd Jefferson, the number one douchebag since elementary.

You were pressed harshly underneath the school benches, held by her goons on each arm as she slapped and clawed at your face, saying some shit that Todd would never look at you and what not. You we're incoherent, your ears failing you when one of her goons punched you right in ear in an attempt to knock you out earlier.

You can hear muffles of what she was saying, blood rushing out of your nose, your cheeks red from the constant assault of her hands, you felt sore all over. No matter how many times you try to pry away from her friends, you were always pinned right back up on that very same wall.

You cried out when Rebecca's friend punched your stomach, you we're just minding your business, heading to detention after parting ways with William and Mark. Mark offered to stay after school to wait for you but you shooed him off and told him to wait at your house so you both can play video games. Now you wished you let him stay, you wished you didn't waved at him when he entered that bus.

You puked out the food your father made for you. Head hanging low. You see the chunks of what he made, the ones he stuff in your bag and you remember your mother kissing you in the head before she and your father saw you off to school. Promising you that it'll be a fun day.

You cried not out of pain, but for your parents, for anyone to hear your pleas as you beg them for mercy.

"Holy shit Becks, her ear is bleeding."

You can make out one of her goons. Rebecca didn't stop no, seeing you writhing in pain entirely at her mercy gave her a power boost. How pathetic you were in her eyes. If anything, you understood she was turned on at the sight of you in her mercy.

"You always acted like you were fucking untouchable with that little gang of yours, where the hell are they now huh?!" slap after slap, your skin was becoming raw, red and bleeding.

"Let.. me go." You attempted to swing at her, but your arms we're pinned to the wall.

Another punch to the gut causes you to choke on the bile that rise in your throat. You let the contents of your food fall from your mouth, gasping in pain and finally you were let go.

You unceremoniously fell into your own stomach fluid. The smell clinging to your hair and you sob as your open wounds soaked in the puke that you laid on.

Before you can even lift yourself up, Rebecca kicked you right in the chest. Hard.

You feel yourself choked. Gasping as you gripped on your stained shirt for a sense of relief.

"Fucking know your place you sleepless freak."

With that they left. Not when one of them send one last kick to your stomach. You choked on a sob, tears blurred your vision as you see them walk away from you.

Rebecca White, she was rich, unstoppable, her parent's success makes her invulnerable to expulsions or even consequences for her actions. Back then she only ever did shove you out the swings or push you when you were in her way.

You wondered, why haven't you told on her to your mother. Was it shame? or was it because you thought you can handle whatever she brings to you?

Or perhaps you were afraid for her?

You don't know, you don't want to think.

So you cried, you cried for the pain to stop, your cheeks to heal, you cried for someone to find you, anyone really, you begged for the universe to find the strength in your arms to get up, for your legs to move.

Hell you were begging for a miracle, for your dormant powers to come and save you.

fucking move already, you cursed, but instead you gasped, your chest hurting and then there was a crack, your ribs caved in under the pressure.

You were crying for so long you hadn't notice the sun was setting, and the school lights closing.

You laid there, in the cold, waiting for someone to open them again, anyone to find you.

Pleading.

"Mommy..."

Was the last thing you muttered when you ultimately passed out in your own digested vomit.

-

Amber grumbles in annoyance. Her volleyball was left at school, her friends were using it after class during practice since the school haven't ordered any new ones.

She was relentlessly annoyed since it was her volleyball that was left at school. A gift her mother on her birthday.

Amber notices a few teachers hanging out the entrance, ready to leave when they spot her jogging over.

Amber explained to them briefly of her situation, Mr. Harrington nodded, agreeing to accompany Amber to get her ball back as they open the open the lights back up only for the gym.

"Where did your friends leave it?" Mr. Harrington questions Amber who was running up and down the benches, looking for the blue ball.

"They said they left it at the bench over here," Amber says, "I guess it rolled under."

Amber crouched, scanning for her ball and spots it rolled into the corner.

"Sweet! I found it!"

She celebrated, then she froze, face going pale as her mouth gape when she caught sight of someone's shoes still quite clearly attached to the person under the benches just a few steps away from where her ball was.

"Amber, are you alright?"

Amber didn't speak, mortified as she points at the body.

Mr. Harrington looked and his blood ran cold. Instantly he rushed to under the benches yelling at Amber to call the other teachers and for an ambulance.

It wasn't long before an ambulance appeared.

and for the news to reach your father.

-

Vanessa returned home, lights turned on the stove recently shut off, with the cupcakes still inside. The television buzzing in the living but nobody home.

She found it odd. Eerie, she doesn't return home to nobody in it once in her life when she had you. She was on her toes, alert for any signs of break ins that might have happened yet nothing, the house was dead silent, the ac in your room was off.

Why weren't you home?

Her phone rang, startling her from her thoughts. She scrambled to pick it up.

Nicolas was calling her.

"My love, where are you? Where is (Name)?" she paced around the living room.

Nicolas sharply took in some air trying to calm himself at the end of the line but broken sobs followed and he couldn't hide how entirely wreck he is now.

"I'm fine, but (Name)-"

"What happened to our varóbushik?" Vanessa feels her heart racing, "Tell me where you two are, now!"

Dead silence at the end, but Vanessa can make out that Nicolas was trying his best not to break down while he was talking to her.

"...we are at the hospital, mahal, Debbie and Mark are here too..."

Hospital?

"Changed into civilian clothes okay? They took her to a normal hospital, we'll be waiting, I love you..."

She hadn't even noticed she froze. Hospital, the one thing she never wants to see you in.

She made efforts, brought you medicine and with the help of your father fed you only the heathiest meals meant for someone as precious as you.

Yet you were at the hospital?

Vanessa sat down, taking it in. Breathing in and out, like Nicolas taught her when they were young, when he caught her in a panic attack not far from your age.

Her fingers were numbing. What the hell happened to her baby, was she even breathing normally? Was her kid even alive?

There was worry, then it boils into anger.

She dialed a number on her phone, stomping her way and changing into normal clothes, ignoring the way the objects that were levitating in her anger with clenched fist, rationality slipping as the seconds roll by while hearing the phone ring in her end.

"Crusher?"

"Mr. Stedman, i wish to ask a favor."

Nobody harms her baby and get away with it.

Sickness, Alien or Human.

-

Note: Damn i should probably add Platonic!Yandere!Mother in this too Jesus Christ

[hiccupshypotheticalleftsock]

Favourite character design: The real winner is Tuffnut, I enjoy the changes in costume and hair between all the instalments, and honestly? He’s fun to look at.

Favourite character: Watch me be so unoriginal and say Hiccup. He is such a beautifully likeable protagonist and I love the way he interacts with the world around him. Not only that but he’s funny and smart and a decent looker too. 10/10 all around. He feels honest and relatable and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look up to him growing up and if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be half the man I am today.

Favourite Dragon from the main 5: HOOKFANG!! He’s honest to god the coolest. Love his interactions with Snotlout too. (i will never forget what they took from us in comparison to book fireworm…she was the og goat)

Favourite dragon species: Windwalkers, taking a livery and saying that even though only the ones from the books are. Because goddamn. I love them. But from the multimedia probably monstrous nightmares.

Favourite ship: Hiccstrid. HOWEVER. snoutlout/fishlegs does things to my psyche

Favourite character dynamic: Hiccup and Stoick. I love their development and just. Oh it makes me feel emotions that I’d rather not, but still so good. Top tier parent child relationship.

Favourite villain: I was not a particular fan of any. They are all just. Eh. To me

Favourite episode: I couldn’t tell you it’s been so long since I’ve sat down and watched the show start to finish

Favourite joke: The bit with the chicken. That will always be funny

Thank you so much for tagging me!! This was really fun

@queen-of-hobgobblers

HTTYD Tag Game

What is your favorite…

Character design: Astrid, specifically in ROB. No it’s not the same as her movie design, in the movie she has her hair swept aside, ROB Astrid is just full on emo bangs over her eye 24/7 and I love her stupid edgy little outfit. No one needs that many skulls. What is she doing. Who dressed her. Why is she like this.

Character: Snotlout </3

Dragon from the main 5: Hookfang

Dragon species overall: Either the scauldron or the changewing I cannot decide. They’re both so cool, I latched onto them as a child and haven’t let go

Ship: tufflout or hiccstrid,,

Character dynamic: Dagur and Heather. They make me ill. Tragic siblings of all time

Villain: Viggo

Episode: “When Lightning Strikes” RoB 1x13, it’s been my favorite since the show was first airing and nothing in the later seasons managed to top it for me, I am a sucker for the plots where the gang dabble in science. Especially when Hiccup has a batshit insane idea for proving/investigating said science

Joke: that one scene in RTTE where Fishlegs is trying to manifest his way out of danger and gets hit with a bolo to the legs anyway. “I’m not gonna get caught, I am not going to get- well that doesn’t work.” The line delivery is golden

Tag your mutuals or any blogs you like (anyone is free to join in though)

@s-e-v-e-n-24 @cartoonsareawesme @ticcitavvi @marley-enthusing-alot @thatonesongyouretryingtoremember @the-dragon-n3st @theonewiththeideas @yenich @thereweredragonshere

[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.

[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

[outismm]

OUTIS send help, Doctor Who is the gift that keeps on giving 😭😭😭 i thought the Toymaker would be the end of it but folks in my Toymaker server made a few jokes about Six. and i had -no idea- about what kind of character Six is. holy FUCK i am in LOVE with this pompous, arrogant asshole 😖💖💖💖💖 he's so cute!!!!! so abrasive!!!! so......PASSIONATE!!!!!! i didn't know he was such a freak!!!! yes yes yes please do rewatch his era because i'm doing it for the first time and having a blast 😂💖

yes,,,, YYYYEEESSSSS. This is perhaps the best development that could have happened. I need you to know how quickly I scrambled downstairs like some sort of Ghoul to try and find the old boxsets and AUGHE!!!!

I FORGOT WHAT AN ABSOLUTE CHARACTER HE IS!!!

He's got such an incredible amount of drama and charisma and wild-eyed charm inside of him, I can't believe how this man has slipped to the back of my mind for so long. Even outside of his borderline regeneration-induced-mania during his first storyline, he's just. such a delight. Colin Baker is having the time of his life delivering every line, and you can TELL

Look at him - what's not to love?

Also, this isn't directly related to our dear multicoloured man, but - thank you for giving me an excuse to Stare Affectionately at Classic Who! There are so many of those delightful quirks and silly set-pieces you can only really find in early 70s-80s sci-fi, sprinkled all throughout, I just,,, ah <3333 it has been so long

OKIE IM RAMBLING BUT >:) EHEHE I cannot wait to see you slip further and further into Doctor Who Fevers. Come yell with/at me anytime, I love seeing ppl experience Classic Who and all the wonderfully wild things it has to offer

[fideidefenswhore]

teenage dream (2023), olivia rodrigo / the spanish princess (2020) / the private lives of the tudors, tracy borman (2016) / the six queens of henry viii (2016) / the vaux passional / the six wives of henry viii (2001) / the lovers who changed history (2014) / blood, sex & royalty (2022) / blood, sex & royalty (2022), gif @fabledenigma / the cross (2014)