#Derailing a bit

[snailchimera]

I will say I understand wanting a giant pool. What I struggle with is having a giant pool and then not functionally living in the giant pool 24/7. Some of these people have giant pools and then don't actually swim in them, which I think should be illegal actually?

(But really what I want is a giant public pool that's open 24/7, easy to get to without a car, and not weird about trans people.)

So yeah, part of the weird status symbol thing is they do have things that actually are fun or cool to have, but just. To have them. For show. It's like... do any of y'all remember that one video(?) going around a while back where a guy stole this woman's bike and ran off with it, and she shouted "At least ride it you asshole!"? It's like that. You have a stupid shitty giant house and nobody's even living in it with you. You have a pool the size of a small lake and it just sits there demanding maintenance all year. Hell, the money itself, which they are literally stealing from people who actually need money to live more often than not, is just accumulating like points in a video game without actually being spent on anything. There's ALSO the stuff that is just pointless rich people signaling, which nobody wants unless they have rich people brainworms, but I think the metaphorical bicycles absurdly rich people are stealing from everyone else and not even riding are more infuriating.

The hyper-wealthy need broken rules and abandoned morals/ethics to survive.

[mymusic-is-too-loud]

Brennan Lee Mulligan has created a scenario where the only player at the table who could possibly keep things on track is Ify Nwadiwe.

I know the chaotic casting is a beautifully calculated move for this action hero campaign, but I also know that this player combination will come back to haunt Brennan throughout this season. Im so excited.

[benevolenterrancy]

I'm on chpt20 and I want to study SQQ like a bug. My man is flushed, hair down, robes literally falling off his shoulders, LBH on his lap playing with his hair and kissing him... and he finally cottons on to the fact that maybe this isn't how you have a platonic and important discussion. Enforces it for all of five seconds at which point LBH starts massaging his waist and SQQ is back to being like "yeah this is fine and normal". Amazing. Can't believe he insults the IQ of SQH's characters.

[girlsdads]

https://www.tumblr.com/girlsdads/762007245755170816

It looks like daniel is peeing

em!!! you put this in my brain and i promptly had a crisis, so of course i had to give Max that same crisis, and somehow this became 1.3k 🫡

cw: (consensual?) voyeurism, romanticized peeing

Practice gets red-flagged early on. Max doesn’t see who is in the barrier as he slowly passes, just knows it isn’t Daniel. He’d been assured of that down his radio almost instantly, though he hadn’t asked. He thinks it must be team protocol to tell him this, that it’s not his teammate in the totaled car. Still, Max flushes bone-deep, feeling too exposed, too obvious. Feeling like they know, everyone must know, his brain turns to goop around Daniel and he never catches himself in time.

He trails Daniel to his driver’s room anyway, knowing how it looks. Daniel grins over his shoulder at Max, starts skipping ahead, makes Max chase him. Warmth blooms in Max’s belly. He may be always following behind Daniel, but Daniel is always looking back.

Daniel shrugs his race suit off his shoulders, lets it hang open around his trim waist. The humidity has stamped dark patches on his white fireproofs where he’s started to sweat through. Max closes the door behind himself and stands there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say that will make Daniel laugh, trying not to make direct eye contact with Daniel’s sweaty armpits, lest he shove Daniel against the wall and stick his nose there.

What happens instead is much, much worse.

Daniel is making a beeline to the bathroom, thumbs hooking into the elastic over his flat pelvis. Max’s vision tunnels, the air in the room seeming to close in around him with a swoosh.

“What are you doing?” He hears himself ask, stupidly.

It’s obvious what Daniel is doing. He’s shimmying his hips side to side as he nears the toilet, wiggling the Nomex down. He’s left the door wide open. He stops and smiles at Max, blinding. “Gotta drain the snake, as they say.”

Who is saying this other than you, Max wants to shoot back, knows he should match Daniel’s cheeky tone, rib him a little then leave the fucking room like a normal person. He hears the wet pop of his own bottom lip dropping open, feels the weight of the words against his larynx, but is struck completely dumb watching Daniel pull out his flushed, soft cock.

Max has of course seen Daniel’s dick before, it would probably be more weird if he hadn’t, like he was purposely trying not to. But the handful of other times have only been glimpses in his periphery, nothing like this. Like this, close range and staring openly because Daniel knows Max is there and still he didn’t close the door, Max can see everything.

The double-stacked waistband of his briefs and fireproofs is tucked up snug under his balls. Max can see where the dark, stubbly hairs are starting to grow back, on his sac and around the base of his cock. Daniel has joked before, about manscaping, but to see the evidence of it like this is dizzying. Max wants to go to his knees and pull each ingrown hair free with his teeth.

Daniel holds himself loosely in his left hand, the ruddiness of his shaft clearly visible through the gaps between knucklebones. The head is peeking out past the circle of his index finger and thumb, fat and flushed a little darker than the rest of him. Even soft, his cock looks heavy and full. Max’s mouth floods with saliva and he sucks it back with his cheeks pinched in, hoping Daniel won’t hear the wet slurp.

His skin feels hot. He’s stuck like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun, his insides incinerating as he watches an arc of piss flow from the gorgeous tip of Daniel’s cock, noisily splashing into the bowl.

Daniel groans, his chin bobbing down toward his chest like someone cut the string that was holding his head upright. Piss hisses out of him, harder now, like he’s pushing it. It is so loud and the walls are thin—anyone lingering nearby must be able to hear, to know. Max wishes he could put up a forcefield, shelter them both inside where only Max can hear the sounds Daniel’s body makes.

It is all over so quickly. The stream trickles to a stop and then Daniel is shaking off the last little dribbles before he’s tucking himself away. Max feels a pang in his chest like grief—he hadn’t finished mentally cataloguing every angle of this moment, needs the image 3D printed into his brain so he can remember forever. Daniel will probably never speak to him again after this, will certainly not let Max anywhere near his bare cock once he turns and sees—Max is hard.

Daniel is shrugging back into the shoulders of his race suit and Max is standing there tenting his own, mortifyingly obvious. Max braces for whatever awkward joke Daniel will try to make to mask his disgust, as he faces Max finally.

He watches Daniel notice. He watches his eyes go slightly bigger and rounder, watches his jaw tick like he’s going to drop it. His gaze feels like a physical weight. Max’s dick throbs once, twice. There is no way Daniel cannot see.

Daniel says nothing, in the end. He smiles at Max, easy as anything, as if Max isn’t a complete freak of nature with a boner from watching his teammate take a piss. He even claps Max on the shoulder as he passes on his way out the door, doesn’t seem to catch how Max sways, knees wobbly, under his touch.

And then Max is alone in Daniel’s driver’s room. Alone and hard and—fuck, a realization burns through him—Daniel didn’t flush.

Max lurches forward before he can stop himself. His foot catches on some part of the floor and he stumbles, nearly going to his knees right there in front of the toilet.

It should be mostly clear, with how they are supposed to be staying hydrated, but apparently Daniel is not doing a very good job. Max has to steady himself with one hand on the wall as he stares down into the bowl, dazed. The water is tinged an unmistakable yellow. It hits Max viscerally, that Daniel has bodily functions and that he did one of those right in front of Max, was comfortable enough to not care if he saw. It’s unbearably intimate in a way that Max can’t think too hard about or he’ll forget how to drive his car, probably. He thinks, wildly, that he wishes he could live inside Daniel’s body, surrounded by all the microscopic things that make him him. He wants to kiss every single one of Daniel’s cells and thank them for keeping him alive.

Even more wildly—he wants to massage his bladder from the inside, tell it he’s sorry it had to get so full, that Daniel should never have to hold it for too long, that he could always if he cannot wait tell Max to go to his knees, and Max would, anywhere, tip his head back and open up for everything Daniel has to give—

Max rips his layers off, feeling frenzied. Elastic stretches around his thighs as he squats lower, his cock now leaking bare over the bowl full of Daniel’s pee. He had foregone underwear earlier, the crotch of his fireproofs now absolutely soaked through with precome. It will be cold and sticky around his cock and balls when he gets back in the car, he will have to drive again and feel it and he will think about Daniel and his dehydrated piss and the sound he made when he let go—

Max comes, shaking, aiming his cock so that it splatters into the bowl, milky white swirling with yellow. Max and Daniel together, like it should be always.

[haveihitanerve]

Jim Gordon has worked sooo hard to not reveal he knows Batman’s identity. But Batman being Batman, combined with Dick and Barbara now dating, just pushes him over the edge Batman: we’re not friends, Commissioner. Jim: Your son is dating my daughter, Bruce. I think we’re past friends Batman:…. Jim:…. Shit

[gurinpotte]

evidence dump of the brain altering that rewatching atla for the first time as an adult has caused in the past few weeks

[foolsocracy]

Hi, hello, I’m new to your blog. I’ve made myself at home. Lovely carpet.

Can I please know more about your spider Robbie pie? Can’t seem to find the silverware.

but of course, kind anon

Spider Robbie is an au in which Robbie Robertson takes up the spider mantle after the death of the one before him. He is the third, following Ben Urich and, most notably, Peter Parker.

This au is very much canon divergence from Eyes Without a Face, where Peter makes it in time to save Robbie from his original fate but dies in the process. Peter is shot while rushing Robbie and the others out. In his panic and elation at finding Robbie physically unharmed, Peter outs himself as the Spider Man to his best friend. Robbie stays with him as he bleeds out and resolves to continue to hide Peter's identity.

Peter is buried and remains that way for... an undetermined amount of time.

Robbie is left with a mask, a jacket, and the question of just who was this other half of his friend. As he learns more of who this... Spider Man was, he gets more and more involved in the spider's cases and conflicts. Robbie gets more sure of his own abilities and makes a bit of a name for the Spider Man within his own community, though the people of Harlem are largely unaware that the appearances of a masked vigilante match the interests of one Robbie Robertson.

It is to be noted that none of these aforementioned abilities are spider-god-induced powers like Peter's. Robbie, especially at the beginning of his spidering career, leans more into Urich's role than Parker's. To me, Robbie has been passionate about the press and journalism in a way that Peter never was. For Pete, his job as a photographer and reporter was a job he took until he could get into college and study science. Robbie has a way with words and communication that Peter frankly lacks. Of course, that isn't to say that Robbie won't be kicking ass, because he will. It will just take him a bit of time to get some of those skills as he's, well, a normal guy. Not everyone can get their biology scrambled like Pete.

And just because Robbie hasn't been scrambled doesn't mean he's completely separate from all things supernatural either!

I think the marvel noir universe is at its best when there's a magical, supernatural undercurrent. This concept isn't super prevalent in the actual comics, but HoplesslyLost on ao3 has done some really cool world building with it.

I think in Robbie's case, where he would be the narrator, "magical realism" would be an interesting avenue to take it. I use this term in particular because I most closely relate it to Toni Morrison in my head, when I first learned about it through her work in high school. For Morrison, the concept was inseparable to blackness and I think for Robbie, where his blackness is so central to his character and his motivations, drawing on that could be more of a service to his character. It feels better to do that than ignore how incredibly racialized his society and story is. It will make his relationship with the spider god, Peter (who I will get to very very shortly), his community, and his own mythos as The Spider Man really interesting and complex.

So it's been established that Robbie doesn't have spider powers. And we all know that Peter did-- or should I say does. One of the spider god's abilities is to bring Peter back to life. She does this in the comics, but not in any of the runs from 2008-2010 (the runs that make up this au). When Peter dies on Ellis Island, he does not think he is coming back from that. Waking up again is a surprise.

Here's where I think the au really takes a left turn. Do I think the Spider God is purely evil and spiteful and has it out for Pete? No, not really. Will I be ramping said traits up to 11 for the au? Yeah, I guess I might. This is because I love a little bit of horror and the came back wrong trope. I will hopefully be fleshing the spider god out in the near future, but I really haven't given her the many hours of thought I have the other characters. For that I'm sorry spider god </3

Peter digs himself out of his grave, more spider than he ever has been. For much of his new, waking life he is more animalistic than not. There is clearly something wrong with him; his joints are too flexible and loose, he's got some eye-shine going on, his skin is pale and his veins are starkly dark beneath it. He's possessed. Someone is puppeteering him, someone who knows a lot-- almost everything about him, but it's clear that the someone isn't him.

And Peter--- the body, it can't be Peter. At least, that's what Robbie thinks when the figure catches his eye the first time. Because Peter is dead and buried, and he has been dead and buried for weeks.

[that-horny-sideblog]

me before i realized i have this kink: man i keep accidentally putting my ocs in situations where they're sick/throwing up/passing out. i wish i could write normal shit without derailing the plot to make everyone sick all the time

me now that i've discovered porn: okay blorbo it's designated porn time. you're going to throw up now

the blorbo: actually... i think i will go on a long diatribe about my religious angst

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash via IG

[vaguely-concerned]

I don't know what I love more, the fact that as rook you can make a statement in NO uncertain terms that you are NOT responsible one way or the other for the theological implications of the shit you're discovering in the 'regrets of the dread wolf' memories. not my jurisdiction. quite simply none of my business. not my chantry circus not my chantry monkeys. irrelevant to the matter at hand here we'll kill that god if we get to him he can get in line. or if the best thing about it is seeing the lone little 'lucanis approves' that pops up right after choosing it. corvid with a knife about to commit deicide keeping it real and sensibly, pragmatically, wilfully agnostic with me here in this magical lighthouse today

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

@ups3tti 's lil silly guy ehehe i hope you like he

Can't wait for him to give the whole ninja team emotional support pets like they deserve

Unrelated to the silly guy but uh he made me realise i mever explained my lil halo job rank system so uh lil guide

+buncha halos i can't decide on a meaning for maybe when i flesh out the cloud kingdom society more I'll think of something to do w them

[anxious-witch]

Okay since we are all being extra emotional today, let me try to put things I feel into words.

I am so, so proud of our boys. I remember how they were during Eurovision and looking through their even longer journey long before I knew them makes me so emotional.

Bojan, who despite struggling with anxiety, is a lead singer of a band that preformed at Stožnice. Who had a panic attack on the stage, recovered and kept going. I will forever admire the bravery it must have taken, and he will forever be an inspiration.

Kris, who by his own words, always felt stuck in either his father's or Bojan's shadow. How much effort and growth it must have taken for him to realize he shines just as brightly. That he can be amazing even without being either of them.

Jan, who seems to be wary of people, not only becoming close with the rest of the band and trusting them, but similarly to Kris, learned he doesn't have to be like his older brother to be great at something. It takes a lot of courage to learn how to trust again.

Jure, who was considered troublesome since he was a kid, finding people who love him for it. Finding a place where his crazy shenanigans are something funny, and where people will patch him up without scolding him. Who never let the playful part of him die out.

Nace, who never had a place that felt truly his, never had people who loved him so much he felt wanted. Going through his teens and early 20s, maybe even thinking he won't find it and then joining Joker Out. Regaining his confidence, finding his people.

This is what this band is for me. A safe place, a place of growth where fandom welcomes you and makes you feel like for the first time, you are understood and you don't have to be afraid.

I want to thank the boys for giving me this feeling, but also all of you who are in the fandom. Thank you for carving out this beautiful, safe space. I haven't talked to all of you, but all of you have helped me through a lot. Whatever happens and however long this lasts, I will always remember that.

Thank you baby boos ❤️

[sulphuric-onyx]

Okay, bit of a long one that went from headcannon to a fic snippet as I wrote it but whatever.

So, it's a pretty common and cannon supported (from what i recall) take that Tuckington as a pairing can read eachother like picture books, they know eachothers tics, are really good at spotting them, etc.

However, I find it to be best (and very funny mostly) if taken to the hardest extreme, to the point where their weird silent communication but just looks like straight telepathy from the outside.

I like to envison this happening on Chorus because I think it would happen alot at practice and stuff, and the luitenants would be the most weirded out by it, (unlike the other Reds and Blues because honestly they're used to it), usally going something like this:

(Ps, they're all out of armour for the sake of this scenario, just dont worry about it)

Wash is watching over practice, or rather he's supposed to be, his gaze instead catching on Tucker, maybe even tracking a little further down the aqua soilders torso than it really should as he stretches, preparing for his first lap.

Tucker glances over his shoulder mid stretch, barely catching the slight shift in the height of Wash's eyeline.

Tucker's left eye twitches, and his brows pinch slightly, ("Were you just?")

Wash's eyes widen just barely, relaxing away from his usual glare at training, and it's only for a half a second---

Tuckers already grinning, ("oh you so were.")and Wash's expression snaps back, attempting to hide the small panic of being caught as fast as possible. "I was not!"

"Yeah right! My eyes are up here, Wash!" Tucker called back, the rest of the training hall pausing to look between the two like a tennis match.

"I'll make you run laps." Wash threatened in one last ditch effort.

"What? So you can get a better view!?" Tucker mocked, standing up and already making a start on said laps.

Wash restrained a groan down to a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly as he willed his face not to go red.

"Uh, sir?" Palomo questioned, suddenly beside him.

"Yes Palomo?" Wash replied, not looking up.

"What the fuck was that?" He followed up, and Wash finally glanced up to find almost the entire stadium staring at him with a confused look, all except for Tucker, who was happily running his laps around the gym.

Fuck.

[littlespoonevan]

thinking about how one of the reasons i’ve always felt we haven’t really seen eddie outwardly React to buck being in danger is bc he’s never really been in a situation where he wasn’t Absolutely Sure he could save buck. like with the truck bombing, eddie is clearly agitated when they can’t get to buck but once he can?? he’s holding buck’s hand and helping hen treat him while the others work to lift the truck bc he knows he can pull buck to safety when the time is right. same with the factory explosion. they don’t linger on eddie’s reaction much but, again, as long as he can find buck he knows he can get him out. and he does. he’s the first one to grab the rope and the first one to reach him which infers a lot about the moments we didn’t see. 

but now, eddie’s screaming buck’s name and trying to pull him to safety but he can’t. so he has to lower him to the ground instead. he has to put buck’s safety in everyone else’s hands. and as soon as he’s off the truck he runs to buck’s side again but bobby drags him away and makes him drive. so he spends three minutes driving to the hospital, not sure if buck’s even alive, and as soon as they stop he’s the one demanding to take over compressions. he’s the one yelling at the doctors to “Do more,” because he’s not allowed to do anything else except wait now.

and, on the one hand, it’s devastating to watch eddie slowly start to crumble because he clearly feels so helpless. but also, even through all that helplessness, even though this is the first time he really doesn’t know if he can save buck........he still did???

because he was the one to get buck’s heart beating again.

and that. that is something i going to need three to five business days to recover from, frankly

[twistedlovelines]

((Not a request, just a brainworm of mine I felt you'd enjoy))

It's so frustrating interacting with Azul most of the time. He acts so confident, so sneaky & strategic. He's physically strong (even if his stamina leaves something to be desired) & incredibly driven. It's more frustrating to realize how badly you want to make him stop being such a cocky brat. You know how insecure he is behind the facade, and you just want to bring that weakness out so you can soothe him. You're not together, but you feel drawn to him.

"I don't want advice from someone who can't even use magic-"

He lurches forward as you pull at his collar, your breath tickling his ear as you whisper a warning in his ear.

"My advice is to watch yourself. Magic or not, I can have you on your knees begging for mercy. So be a good boy instead of a brat."

He's not even really my type, why do I want to make him blush so badly-??

- 🐈‍⬛

it's the urge to dominate pathetic rich bitches...

i think his bravado is so fun aiohosdf. rivals to lovers with him would go crazyyyy esp if ur on par with him grades-wise yet remain magicless. going up to him while he's flying and looming over him since he's risen only three inches off the ground...truly he has never felt so powerless and at your mercy (I mean, he's straddling a broom while you're staring him down. he is only an octopus . have mercy on him .)

he likes you being mean to him. it's comforting, familiar. it's all he's ever known as a child. jade and floyd aren't exactly the most verbally affectionate, and their methods of expressing their affection are rather...unconventional. when faced with affection from someone other than his own family, this is to be expected. he can level the playing field, banter back with you, even.

i think what really sets him off is when you're kind to him, blatantly so. at first, your concern is hidden under the guise of not wanting him to be sick for your upcoming exam (who else would you compete with? riddle? he's not nearly as fun), but. then he overhears you step up to someone for him. defend him.

he doesn't really care about others talking down on him- or rather, he doesn't care about the opinions of people who are merely another contract. yet something about the way your bite being directed at someone else for him made him feel a certain way.

he brings it up later, a simple comment about your uniform being askew.

"hm? yeah some guy was being loud so i made him shut up," you shrug.

he knows that's not the full truth, and you catch the faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

"what, you jealous someone else messed up my clothes instead of you?" chuckling, you swing your legs over the arm rest of the chair. "you're gonna have to work harder than that to get my attention."

azul freezes, eyes darting away to look at the paper down in his hands instead.

"please, only you would be so conceited to think as much."

he prays that you don't hear the waver in his voice.

[steveshairychest]

just giddy from thinking of steve and eddie kissing softly and hungrily, heart’s fluttering <<33 who do you think leads smooches session most of the time?

Eddie definitely initiates most smooch sessions, but only because Steve is still learning that asking for a kiss doesn't mean he's being needy, that it's not annoying if he holds Eddie's hand and kisses him just because he wants to.

Steve has been told in many past relationships that he asks for too much and is overly affectionate. A girl once told him that holding her by the waist looked possessive and needy. He'd walked stiffly by her side for the rest of the date. Eddie's helping Steve realise that it's ok to wrap his arm Eddie's shoulders while they're out, that it's okay to kiss his cheek whenever he feels like it and that wanting to cuddle during a movie isn't asking for too much.

Steve is getting better at kissing Eddie without doubting himself beforehand. He plops down in Eddie's lap and kisses him until they are both breathless, flushed and smiling at each other like fools in love.

When Eddie asks, "What was that for?"

Steve shrugs and says, "I just wanted to kiss you."

Eddie's never been prouder.