#for him returning as a phoenix

[landonkirbyappreciation]

I'm taking back the life you stole

[nortsauce]

Playing the first game in the trilogy with @flygutzz and we cannot be serious for two seconds LMFAO

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[hollenka99]

So fucking funny to me that Morgan Fey is protective of her daughter to the point of telling Phoenix not to even speak to her once lest she be 'corrupted' which seems excessive until you have a single conversation with her, subsequently causing the world's most sheltered 8 year old to sneak out, walk however many hours to the courthouse 'Mr Nick' works at and witness part of a murder trial.

[shirecorn]

Tumblr keeps popping up to sell me ad free dashboard. But what it doesn't understand is that me and the ads have a sort of symbiosis at this point.

The guys from the fake gameplay trailers for a predatory mobile app are my blorbos

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

I kind of like that both Phoenix and Larry's reaction to their friendship deteriorating and splintering was just to hold on to Edgeworth really, really hard.

[turnaboutstar]

he's talking about apollo like oopsie almost forgot my employee who was injured in a courtroom bombing

[peachsodah]

playing through the games again... i missed my faves

[abluescarfonwaston]

Not entirely sure what would a driad be in the hanahaki au, but I just saw amazing post cross my dash about algae-covered snake and remembered this immediately! Would the driad be what's left of a human fully consumed by the feelings or something (someone??) that's left if they were close to succumbing to it but managed to express themselves at the last moment? If it's the latter imagine the Turnabout Samurai in this AU and Dee Vasquez! Breakdowns of certain characters creating the driads something something...

(Also I think I accidentally unfollowed you at some point 🥲 Sorry!! I didn't mean to)

I dryad is what I've called the people who have a very severe and chronic version of hanahaki and then succumb to the disease. The flowers are the mild (fairly common but occasionally deadly) version. If you get a crush and don't tell them or if you love your friends a whole lot and Don't tell them (or show them) than the flowers might take root. It's a disease process so some people are more susceptible than others and some people are higher risk (emotionally constipated folk). It's not a disease without pluses though, its been known to increase the survival changes of people trapped in low oxygen environments.

There's a slow and rapid onset for the more severe form of the disease that results in dryad-ism. The slow onset occurs in people who lose a loved one- not always via death. Having a child taken away or divorce are common routes. If they can't find a way to express that love (grieving/reconciliation/letting go) the disease will latch onto that constant trapped love and the victims slowly turn to wood. Growing branches. Moving slower and slower until they can no longer move at all. (You'll see these people growing into bar stools. Alcohol does dull the heart, slow the growth but those unwilling or unable to seek help often find themselves dying from one or the other eventually) At that point they put out roots and there is nothing left to do but plant them in the dirt.

Traumatic loss can cause a more rapid progression of the severe form as well, especially in those already suffering the mild version. The unexpected loss of a child or parent are frequent causes of an outbreak. The body tries to wall off the loss in wood. Sometimes it succeeds- resulting in people with wooden limbs, immobile shoulders. Grief festering but not overtaking them. Not yet.

Hanahaki thrives on love unexpressed. Romantic or platonic, it cares not. And how do you love someone who is no longer here? That question leaves its own graveyard with the faces of men. Gnarled branches reaching to the heavens like they might find the one they miss there.

I don't think Vasquez would be affected, the had no love for those men. Adrien Andrews would be. The shoulder Celeste always squeezed would be ridged. Its growth halted by her obsession with making Juan Corrida pay. Maybe after she gets her revenge the wood will separate from the skin and leave her pink and healing- or scarred but alive.

"You are innocent Miles Edgeworth. You were innocent." and the wood that has creeped down his arm to the elbow and across his chest will slough off like a healed scab. Like it hasn't grown inch by inch year after year for the last fifteen.

And still there are people who despite all there loss and pain do not grow a branch or flower at all. 'Heartless' people as some say. But Mia Fey is not heartless, she is driven. The Fey can always hold the dead once more- their love is never lost to death. The one's she misses still have beating hearts. And she will make a world for them if she must claw it into existence with her own bleeding hands. Her love is written in every briefing and late night and every cup of coffee she brews. It's just not a love most people understand. It is in those motions that Phoenix and Gumshoe stay safe.

Hanahaki is love with no where left to go. But in tending their office, sister, plants, or grave- love still has somewhere to go. Grief will not over take them, so long as their is still work to be done.

[moonlight--magician]

I was playing AA2 and Edgeworth showed up and I just squealed (I am going in blind to this Franchise

[dynmghts]

i did NOT linger on ch402-405 long enough because as far as i can tell katsuki brought himself back right before all might was brought over by all for one, right? but with the distance, he wouldn't have seen them, nor did he have any sufficient means of closing such a distance THAT fast. so how did he know to go to the ledge and observe below?

either those on the field told him where izuku was, or he heard izuku scream for all might. or BOTH - which is more plausible, because yes, he can trust izuku will win, but with all might in danger and dragged toward ua by all for one, it put everything in jeopardy.

and so what do you mean katsuki bakugou, dynamight, symbol of victory, likely heard izuku's cry for help from below, and charged straight to him - trusted that he would be pointed in the right direction? what do you MEAN he probably heard the desperation in izuku's voice the moment he breathed life again, and his first thoughts were; izuku is in trouble. all might is in trouble.

katsuki didn't even give himself time to live again before he went into another life-or-death fight, because what follows is that he doesn't just save all might from all for one's clutches. he goes to end all for one so he'll never achieve his goal.

because those two people are the largest testament to the man he's become, and he'll defend them with his life - like he did before.

i am unwell.

[doyoueverjustwomen]

playing through the last case of aa4 right now and OMG…….WHATTTT THIS HAS SURPASSED MY EXPECTATIONS COMPLETELY

[ventus-rogue]

Contains FFXVI Spoilers from the demo

I was expecting the mom to be cruel and sell her family out to the empire, but I wasn’t expecting her to be THAT much of an evil witch. Like when talking about Joshua’s death, the son she described as being her world, she was acting like she lost a favorite tshirt not her child. And then was like, “Oh, my other son is still alive? Kill him. No, no, wait. Make him a slave instead. He can at least be useful as cannon fodder.”

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Not main tagging this rn but it like lowkey kind of fucks me up how many of Jill's scenes with Clive you could give to another character and it would either fit that character better, or it just kind of dawns on you how little it would change the overall story if you removed the connection to Clive and Rosaria from her character and just left her time in the Iron Kingdom forced to fight in the war for the sake of innocent people (and her consequent struggle over killing)

[callsign-bobsgirl]

Baby On Board

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.

When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.

When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.

What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.

Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.

“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.

“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”

Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”

“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.

Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.

“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.

—

When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.

“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”

You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 

“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.

You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.

Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.

But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.

Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.

“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.

‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.

“What?” you ask. 

You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.

“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.

Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.

‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.

“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.

Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”

And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …

“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 

“But he did get three kids out of me.”  

The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.

also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡

[deathleadsarc]

@highvampire | sc.

" Now there's a curious little thought, Astarion - which would you rather drink ; hags blood, or dragons blood? " perhaps an impossible choice in the end, but one that came slithering in once their encounter with the Githyanki's dragon had sunken. " I may venture to try the dragon. "