#I should write a fic on this

[usslakevee]

thinking about body swap fics involving Spock. Thinking about the way they frequently have whoever is in Spock's body emoting in more human ways.

Then thinking about the fact that Vulcans have stronger emotions than humans which is why they have to cultivate such strong emotional control. Then thinking about the fact that emotions are largely biochemical reactions.

Anyways if anyone were to bodyswap with Spock (or any Vulcan) they would immediately go feral, completely incapable of handling emotions that are far more impactful then they are used to. And with 3× their normal amount of strength.

[fairiesthrum]

reader who can’t stand satoru but then he gets hit by a curse that turns him into a cat. you find him, to his dismay, and take him home, only for him to realize how different you are when he isn’t around to pester you.

at first, he causes a lot of trouble. breaking things in your house, tearing up the pillows. he just wants to be a human again, but nobody can understand him! but you still take care of him and coddle him no matter how much trouble he causes, so different from how people treat him normally, as if he were a nuisance (which he kind of was on purpose). and he finds himself falling for you without realizing it.

so he stops being a bad cat, steadily losing hope that he’ll ever be human again. and satoru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy how you stroked him while you read a book or let him sleep beside you at night. maybe it wasn’t so bad? so he decided then if he was going to be just a cat, he was fine with being your cat.

the higher-ups had taken note of his absence, obviously, and he only knows cause you’ve mentioned it to him. you had this endearingweird quirk where you’d talk to him as if he were a real person.

throughout his stay in your home as a house pet, satoru finds out a lot about you. you’ve always kept to yourself, but you vent your frustrations out to him while he’s like this, and he offers his comfort the best he can. which you appreciate, rewarding him with kisses that he secretly enjoys.

once he turns human again, by some miracle, his first thought is to go and find you. and when he does, you give him the cold shoulder like you used to, and it surprises him. before he realizes that, ah, he wasn’t your pet anymore. he was gojo satoru.

satoru realizes his feelings for you in that moment. when he feels the ache in his chest from your dismissive behavior, it leads him to starting his most important mission yet—winning your heart once more.

but this time, it’ll be as a person, not a damn cat.

[rejectedbytheempty]

actually, ykw? imagine if simon had a civilian s/o and bc he’s constantly away and the partner is there most of the time anyways, he lets them decorate the place.

they make it so cozy with a million lamps with stained glass lampshades and tapestries on the walls and an unexpected number of stuffed animals on the bed.

one time, simon invites tf 141 to his flat and their jaws dropped, bc ofc simon didn’t warn them about the absolute pinterest board that his place was.

in fact, he hadn’t mentioned a partner at all, or to you that his team would be coming over so you’re still in one of simon’s raggedy old t-shirts with a handful of dry cereal halfway to your mouth.

it’s generally a shock for both parties, simon excluded, who seems to settle himself right in, kissing the top of your head, eyes crinkling slightly as he grins, looking rather like a cat showing off the bird he dragged in.

you had some choice words for him later, but for now, you brushed the crumbs off your face and wiped your hands off on your shirt before sticking your hand out to the team to introduce yourself.

surprisingly, it goes rather well. all things considered. the team is charmed by you and your ability to make ghost blush and smile endlessly. and you’re absolutely enamored with the fact that they keep complimenting your decor.

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ .

[frownyalfred]

Lois finding out Bruce's secret identity and using/abusing his expertise on crime and weird combat shit to ask him questions for background on random pieces she's assigned to.

"Hey hotshot. Quick question. Hypothetically, can you, or can you not, die from a punch to the throat."

"Hello, Lois. Nice to hear from you again."

"No, I don't think you heard me. Throat punching. Is that a thing?"

"A thing?"

"Can someone die if you punch them hard enough in the throat? Google says maybe."

"Looking it up on Google. That's a new low for you, isn't it?"

"The new low for me was thinking you'd take this conversation seriously. I need a yes or no answer, Bruce."

"..."

"I can hear you typing. Are you Googling it now?"

"Give me some parameters."

"I don't know, hard? If you punched them hard enough, could they die?"

"There would be some edema present, subsequent to blunt force trauma. Shortness of breath. Other delayed sequelae."

"So no?"

"Maybe."

"What if I punched them really really hard? Would it be instantaneous then?"

"Lois, I'm getting the impression this isn't much of a hypothetical anymore."

"Completely unrelated follow up question: can you break someone's neck if you punch them hard enough?"

"Lois."

"I just need a yes or no on this one. Promise."

"Lois."

"I'm not asking if you've ever done it, I'm asking if it's possible."

"...What does Google say?"

"To suck my dick, I'm on deadline."

"That new AI is testy."

"Are you going to be like this every time I call you?"

"Like this?"

"Yes or no answer, Bruce. Five seconds. I know you're holding it back. You're dying to tell me."

"I'm dying to tell you something you can Google?"

(five minutes later, Bruce's phone buzzes with a screenshot of a text conversation between Lois and a very confused Clark whose only response was "...I think so??? ask B")

Lois: final chance, yes or no

Bruce: Running to Clark is a choice.

Lois: oh god, you text with periods too?

Bruce: Yes.

Lois: yes throat punching or yes you text with periods?

Lois: Bruce

Lois: BRUCE

[corrodedbisexual]

Thinking of Steve throwing Eddie his birthday party and setting up a big surprise in his backyard that gets most of the older Party's eyebrows raised and Robin remarking "Dingus, you know Eddie's turning twenty-one not twelve, right?" But Steve's grinning in pure satisfaction, his eyes on Eddie, whose unhinged scream drowns out most of Robin's comment and even the kids' combined shrieks of excitement.

It was something Eddie only once mentioned, when Steve was talking about his own childhood and birthdays, back when his parents hadn't been so distant yet. Eddie rolled his eyes at Steve's expressed surprise that he'd never been in a bouncy castle, "Never exactly been on the rich kids' guest lists, Stevie." And it was such an off-hand, seemingly indifferent remark, but Steve had gotten to know him enough to see right through to the sadness, and make a note in his little mental heart-shaped notebook that held all things Eddie.

Hence, the big bouncy castle Steve's now rented for the occasion, for the boy who is now officially an adult of legal drinking age, but is racing the young teens with the same childlike glee in his eyes, if not greater. Only to stop halfway, make a U-turn towards Steve to smack an exaggeratedly loud kiss on his cheek, shake him by the shoulders, blurt out "I love you so much" and run away again, kicking his sneakers off on the way, seemingly unaware in his overexcitement of what he just said because they are, of course, not even dating.

(That leaves Steve blushing, lovestruck and hopeful about his plan for later, after everyone leaves, to press Eddie against one of those bouncy walls and finally kiss him.)

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[demigods-posts]

as far as everyone was concerned. percy had a year left to live in tbotl. and i know that we didn't see what that like for him because it didn't matter plot-wise. but i would have loved to read it. give me percy who is hardly speaking up at the dinner table. half-asleep and behind on last week's homework. give me percy who is clearly losing the will to live and trudging around the apartment like he doesn't care where his feet takes him. give me percy who is sneaking out of the house and visiting montauk. sitting along the beachside shore. wondering why his only purpose in life is that of a soldier and not of a kid.

[emuanon34]

[bitchapalooza]

Sanji and Zoro getting married while very drunk but neither of them remember except Luffy who never brings it up until at the most random point in time like maybe several years later when Sanji proclaims he’s gonna marry some random girl he meets—“but Sanji is already married to Zoro?”

Zoro and Sanji in unison “WHAT!?”

“Yeah, next month will be your fifth anniversary. Can we have a barbecue for your anniversary? I want a barbecue.”

[soosoosoup]

Chord Striker Au by @thatbennybee

[maverickazansky]

ur telling me hangman is out here looking at rooster like that and im supposed to believe that top gun: maverick WASNT a romance movie?????

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[wantonlywindswept]

okay but like space jesus baby anakin declaring 'you can't kill a jedi' and the force is like 'oh shit fr? guess that's how it is now'

so jedi just. stop dying. they're confused but maybe okay with it? like some of the older ones still die of old age but when they're out fighting somehow they always make it through

palpatine is furious. he knows what's going on and tries to convince anakin that jedi CAN die, look at all these past instances, but anakin just looks at him like he's crazy 'okay but none of the jedi I'VE met ever die'

and palps is desperately trying to prove that jedi can die by actually killing jedi but like. no. they can't die. all his attempts to kill them fail.

and anakin is a nine year old child going 'well if i've never seen it happen then obviously it's not true'

10-year plan to wipe out the jedi foiled by one (1) overpowered boy confidently deciding that jedi can't die, seeing that jedi never die growing up, and thus continuing to believe that jedi cannot die even when there's a war on and jedi should DEFINITELY be dying

palpatine has time scheduled every night just so he can scream into the void in frustration