#i’m mobile for now

[l0yalty]

plot call, if you are interested in plotting with any of my characters please like this and i’ll im you.

[strawberri-draws]

Silly entry for day 3 of potsnpicksweek (Dinner/Modern AU/Gift)!

[bluehoodedmousebane]

Started playing Halo 3! Nobody told me about the flood stalkers. GIRL HELP.

[hazbeen]

Demanding kitty Lucifer in season 2 give him to me now

[kikaiz]

Wanted to draw Danny for Halloween but drawing him as a ghost would be too cliche. So perhaps after a bad ghost fight, he’d just go for the laziest costume of nothing at all and call it a zombie.

[nouies]

Louis talking with Steve Aoki about “Just Hold On” being almost ten years old (08/08)

[orykorioart]

Something is missing, but you don’t know what.

[Image Description:

Digital illustration featuring Taako and Lup from The Adventure Zone. On the right side are Taako and Lup during the Stolen Century, with their red cloaks. The edge of the picture is taken over by a glitch effect, almost erasing Lup, only leaving behind parts of her cloak and hair. There is also a small glitch on Taako’s chest, where the IPRE patch would be. This part of the picture is also somewhat desaturated.

Stolen Century Lup is depicted with her hair in a messy bun, her dark brown hair dyed with light-pink highlights. Stolen Century Taako is depicted with his long hair in a braid, his dark brown hair dyed with lavender-purple.

The left-side of the image is post-Voidfish Taako, who is fidgeting with his hair with a look of sadness on his face. He is clutching onto the Umbrastaff at his hip.

Post-Voidfish Taako is depicted with messy shoulder-length hair, his naturally dark-brown hair is streaked with some lavender-purple and light-pink. He is wearing a deep-purple cloak and hat, which is themed with stars on the inside.

End Description.]

[bloodraven55]

miorine canonically being a clingy wife gives me so much life

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

“Speaking to some french girl, who says she knows me well”

Bob Dylan & Françoise Hardy, 1966.

[bobellafofella]

Mother knows I drown in my lies Father knows I learned my lessons the second time Ask me where I’ll go I say I do not know No, I do not know No, I do not know

- First, I’m Sorry, Haley Heynderickx

yeah, Foster being Callie’s mother’s last wish got to me a bit 😭

[kingofthecotas]

ivy

post-aragón, vale & pecco & the ever-present spectre of marc | ~900 words

hi hello i write things sometimes

———

Valentino doesn’t call until Monday, when the heat of anger has faded and the dust has been washed from his hair, seven hours behind and six hours spent on track—one of Marc’s tracks, irony of ironies.

(Sometimes he wonders if he can ever extricate himself from this, from them, from the noxious tendrils that have wound themselves into the sport’s neurones and synapses, an incurable infection of the central nervous system.)

Pecco almost hesitates to answer—still afraid of disappointing him, even after all this time—but his shoulder throbs when he reaches out to pick up his phone and he suddenly wants the sound of Valentino’s voice, even if it carries judgment.

“Hello?” he says, cautious.

“Are you okay?”

“Sore. Will bruise, but fine. I’ll be okay for Misano.”

Valentino hums. “Good.”

Pecco searches for something, anything, that doesn’t remind him of gravel crunching, his head snapping forwards as one hundred and fifty kilos of aluminium and rubber collided with the back of his helmet. “Sorry about your race. It was going well.”

“It was. It was fun.” He can almost see Vale waving his hand. “I have already complained to Maro. I want to make sure you are okay.”

“Fine.”

There’s a pause, silence loaded with something Pecco can’t quite identify. “And Álex?”

Ah. “Fine as well. We both got checked over.” Pecco swallows. “I, ah, spoke to him. Or—he asked to speak to me, in private, so we did. I—I am still pissed off, but it was not deliberate. I know that now.”

Valentino hums again. “But you said it.”

So this is what he really called to talk about.

“I was pissed off. Martín—”

“I know,” Valentino says, and there’s something there, not quite the disappointment Pecco feared but something like it. “Be—just be careful, Pecco, yes? If you are going to start this, be ready for where it might take you.”

“I am not starting anything.”

Again, it’s, “I know.” Then, “I know it is hard when you are hurt and angry, and there are points slipping through your fingers. But think about what you are saying.”

“Yeah.” Pecco would be more annoyed if this wasn’t coming from experience.

“Ah, maybe you do not need my advice anymore—”

“Of course I do,” Pecco interrupts, chest fluttering at the mere idea of Valentino ever becoming superfluous to him.

“Get into it with Marc all you want. He is expecting this. The team are expecting this. He will give it back to you, and somehow, he will be ready to forgive.” Valentino pauses. “Do not make his brother part of it. That—that is where there was no coming back for us, truly.”

Pecco’s breath catches, because Vale sounds—unsettled. Sad, even. “I—”

“Do you understand?”

He does. “Fucking—the week before Misano, as well. It will be messy.”

“Not too messy. Not yet.” Still fixable, is what Vale doesn’t say, but they both know anyway. “But—you can handle it. You will do better than I did.”

Quietly, Pecco thinks there couldn’t have been many worse ways to handle it all. There are certainly better ones. He can’t remember when that thought first came to him: maybe when he’d won, that first time, Aragón of all places, the king of Marc’s castle, and Marc had been—disappointed, yes, but still there with a smile and a congratulatory word. Not what Pecco had been expecting, from everything Vale had said. Maybe Vale had been wrong.

Marc has done many things to Pecco since then, but that first doubt, the first fallacy of his god, was the most earth-shattering.

“I should speak to Marc—”

“Don’t make it about him.”

“I already have.” It’s like pulling a barbed thread out through his throat, admitting that, reminding himself what he said to the cameras and microphones when he was aching and exhausted and too hot with it all to think about the consequences. “They already have, because if it is me and Álex then it is you and him.”

The silence is long this time, presses in, a storm cloud rolling over before the heavens open and lightning shatters the sky. Pecco almost stutters out an apology, except Valentino must know, because he was the one who wanted to talk about it in the first place.

When Valentino sighs, it hisses in Pecco’s ear. “It will always be about us somehow, Pecco. You will have to hold it.”

And here is what Vale did not tell them when they vowed to carry his legacy, unmistakable yellow in their young faithful hands: it would always be entwined with the ivy-choke of Marc.

Us, Valentino still says, not me and him. If he has still not managed to free himself, what hope does Pecco have?

(He knows the answer. He never will. But he can hold it, can hold the vine-twisted history alongside the bright yellow heritage.)

There’s a lot he could say. He swallows it down, sits on it all. “Are you coming on Wednesday?”

“Of course.”

“See you then. Put the weekend behind us.”

“Get ready for Misano,” Vale agrees. “One of your favourites, and you have raced there already this year. Maybe you do not even need to train, hm?” A laugh, so Pecco knows he’s only joking. So Pecco knows Valentino believes in him. “Ah, they are calling for the plane. I will speak to you soon.”

Pecco doesn’t say so you still think he is forgiving. You still think he can forgive you. He doesn’t say he’ll be in a good mood today, if you called. He closes his eyes, says, “Safe flight. See you on Wednesday.”

[harryzroze]

i think he gets it, wade

[about-faces]

Her world is ending, the entire universe being wiped out by cosmic forces beyond her understanding. But Gilda Kent of Earth-Two isn’t going down without a fight, not after all she’s seen. After all, she saved both Bruce and Harvey’s lives once before, decades ago. She still has the bullet scar to prove it.

Now she’s going to make a last, desperate play that will either save herself and her dying husband–Harvey Kent, once known as Two-Face–or damn them forever.

[charcubed]

and what if I told you that even here Art’s repressed bisexuality is blatantly haunting/informing the narrative and everything that’s happening throughout (which of course also means that the absence of Patrick is also haunting the both of them).

how the moment where he decides to tell Tashi that he wants to retire is shown with a slow pan down his body with the open closet in frame, and then focus on his wedding ring…. then Tashi looks large in frame while he looks very small… and there’s a closeup when he says “I’m tired,” and then right after that there’s this specific shot of him framed as being in the closet as he starts saying, “I don’t want to be one of those guys who doesn’t know when to walk away, okay, it’s embarrassing to still be doing this shit when you’re 40.”

which is a conversation that happens a few hours after…

“Well, I don’t miss playing with you, man. I’m too old for it.”

(“We’re not talking about tennis.”

“What the fuck else do i have to talk to you about?”)

((“Tell me it doesn’t matter if I win tomorrow.”))

(((“I don’t matter?”

“Not even to the most obsessive tennis fan in the world.”)))

[jewishbarbies]

me: rape is wrong in any context

leftists: oh so you support palestinian women being raped

me: I just said rape is wrong in any context

leftists: but what about when it happens to palestinians??

me: any context

leftists: but palestine-

me: WRONG IN ANY FUCKING CONTEXT

leftist: ZIONIST 🫵🏻 EVIL JOO WON’T CONDEMN RAPE 🫵🏻

[emily-mooon]

Hopping on the swap AU train with my personal favourite swap I’ve seen: Young Neil and Stacey.