#I watch an absurd amount of TV

[paging-possum]

The secret to robots unlocking their humanity is NOT love. It’s tv dramas.

[mariocki]

Horror icon Ingrid Pitt guest stars as enemy agent Elayna in The Adventurer: Double Exposure (1.20, ITC, 1973)

[lixiesfreckless]

Sugar & Spice | h. j.

A Sugar Across The Hall bonus scene

➸ synopsis: in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

➸ starring: joshua hong x reader

➸ word count: 1.9k words

➸ general content: boyfriend!joshua, kissing, slightly more than kissing lmao

➸ warnings: suggestive content, brief mention of alcohol

➸ rating: TV 16+

➸ author’s note: this can be read as a stand-alone BUT…happy one year anniversary to my magnum opus, sath. I love it to death, and I’m still not done writing for these characters, but for now, you get a much needed not-quite-hallmark-channel-approved scene. and before you get it twisted, this is and will always be dedicated to my beloved @ashonheavenscloud , but I’d like to give special thanks to @catboyieejeno for always encouraging me to stir the pot <3 love you guys a ton mwah

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! touch by keshi uhhhhhh somebody by keshi aahhhhhhh

Oh, he's really done it now.

Walking around some lively street corner a few blocks away from your shared apartment building, Joshua leads the two of you through downtown NYC at the height of spring. Strangers pass by your lovestruck duo without a second glance, not bothering to watch you look back at him with a borderline absurd amount of fondness in your irises. It's funny; usually Joshua wouldn't give spring a chance when it came to stating his favorite season, but since you waltzed into his life, he can confidently say that any of them are worthwhile—as long as you're with him. He squeezes your hand for what feels like the millionth time this evening, an action that makes you giggle happily to yourself.

Because you find it cute.

Oh, how you have no idea at all.

How tortuous this night has been for Joshua. How he regrets the day that he walked into that fateful department store, not looking for anything in particular but coming to a full stop in front of a specific mannequin. How he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering your size when you opened the gift bag a few hours earlier, eyes alight in excitement as you pulled out the present, letting the fabric unroll in your fingertips. How his face heated up as you opened your apartment door, and he quickly noted how the mannequin did the dress no justice.

Truthfully, if the dress looked as good on the mannequin as it did on you, he would have never taken it off the rack. He'd know better.

Because all through dinner he had to stop himself from staring at you and the slope of your neck, broken up by the thin straps of the halter dress and abandoned by your hair that was conveniently(to his demise) in an updo, to show off the open back. Luckily, you were so delighted by the Greek restaurant that you'd picked out that you hardly noticed his deepening flush, or the way he nearly downed his white wine in one go the second the server left your table.

And now, as you swing his hand and practically run up the stairs(because the elevator is broken, again), he finds himself almost dreading the night ahead. It's a Thursday, which means self care and Grey’s Anatomy, and while he would never turn down spending time with you, being that close to you for a prolonged period of time after the night he's had would be borderline masochistic.

Of course he contemplates all of this, but in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

So you unlock the door to your home, blabbering on about something that had happened at work and completely oblivious to the way that your boyfriend is eyeing you, torn between running towards you and running across the hall to get a grip on himself.

“Johnny went off at a customer yesterday,” you chuckled, crossing the room to set your purse down on the kitchen table. “They were being so rude, and over spilled milk too—throwing a fit over where we get our coffee beans imported from–”

You yelp in surprise, followed by a giggle at the feeling of Joshua’s hands encircling your waist from behind. His head settles in the space on your shoulder, but not before leaving a light kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Hi,” you greet him, hands coming up to hold onto his forearms as you try to decipher the reason for this sudden display of affection.

“Hi,” he sighs, nose nudging against your pulse point, “Did I ever tell you how stunning you look in that dress?”

“No, I must have misheard you the first fifty times.”

He laughs at your little jab, willing his hands to stay still despite his growing desire to let them wander. You make the terrible decision to turn just enough so you can look at him, and it's this position that puts Joshua at his most vulnerable.

“Ready to wrap up season five?”

Looking up at him the way that you are paired with your slightly parted lips and flushed demeanor, Joshua finds himself at a loss for words, instinctively leaning into your face as his restraint wears thin. And your unfazed and accepting disposition makes it that much worse for him, his breath shaking as you flutter your eyes shut and part your lips.

The first touch of his lips is familiar, his kiss walking the line between mind-numbingly sweet and devastatingly tender as one of his hands comes up to lift your jaw. But instead of pulling away like he had originally intended, he presses harder against your mouth with a small sigh, unable to find any logical objection to the change of plans.

Your giggly demeanor fizzles out under the heat of his mouth, and your breath escapes you once his hand slides down to your neck, fingers languidly tracing the curve and playing with the straps that rest there. In contrast to his slow hands, his kisses grow faster and almost desperate, not wanting to separate for even a second as he tilts his head and slants his mouth against yours.

You stumble backwards slightly in pleasant surprise, and the table hits just above the hem of your skirt before the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you further into Joshua’s chest.

He takes this opportunity to lean forward slightly, clearing the table with a sweep of the arm that was holding you before hoisting you up onto it, hands firm on your thighs and then sliding down to your knees so he can part them.

“Josh,” you whisper breathlessly, clutching onto his shoulders as your eyes dazedly flicker between his lips and his eyes. His lower lip gets trapped between his teeth as his strength falters, gaze hardly able to meet yours as his fingers dance along the scalloped hem of your dress.

“Oh God, don't do that baby,” he nearly moans, and the pet name turns your brain waves into radio static. You've never heard him sound so helpless, as if his very fate would be decided by whatever you choose to say next. “You make it so hard to just sit and watch TV with you sometimes. Especially when you look like this.”

Knowing now that you have the upper hand, you decide to humor yourself and tease him a bit, leaning forward with a slight smirk on your lips. “Like what?”

His eyes drink you in from head to toe, taking their time to memorize all of your body lines in the flattering dress. If the opportunity were to present itself tonight, he doesn't know whether he would even want to take it off of you.

He leans in close, hoping that his desire translates well as it's mumbled against the skin of your neck.

“So damn good.”

His confession against your sensitive skin has you muffling a whine, gripping the edge of the table as your rationale evaporates under his searing lips, traveling higher and higher with each press.

You can't take his teasing much longer, and frankly, this side of him doesn't come out often enough for you to pass up an opportunity such as this. Meredith Grey will have to wait.

“You know…” you whisper, head tilting back as you feel his hand slipping behind your neck to support it, “they play reruns on Friday nights too.”

“Thank God, ‘cause you in this dress has been driving me crazy since you put it on,” he chuckles against your lips before catching them with his again, taking his time now to fully taste you, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to elicit that delightful shiver that runs up your spine. You respond in earnest with your hands, carding through his brown locks and nearly melting when he doesn't suppress the groan that tumbles from his throat.

He kisses you like you’re air itself, hands sliding up your skirt and body pressing against yours, and once your nails slide down his scalp he softly groans into your mouth, moving onto kissing across your jawline. You repeat the action while winding your legs around Joshua’s waist, and he whines quietly into your neck, “Please…tell me to stop before I can’t.”

So subtly you almost miss it, he rolls his hips into yours, his desires clouding his judgment as a foreign sound jumps to the top of your throat. Immediately your attention is drawn to the heat you feel in your abdomen, and while you have grown accustomed to bearing it in silence, you’re finding it increasingly hard to ignore with him like this, hands all over you.

Wanting you.

He does it again, with a little more pressure this time, and your head falls back as a whimper just barely tumbles out of your lips. He shivers slightly, nearly overcome with the exertion of fighting every urge to take you on this table this instant.

To temporarily solve this problem, his lips find yours again, but feeling your muffled moans against him proves to be no more effective than trying to put out a forest fire with a garden hose.

As his hips softly grind into yours and your kisses get more and more frantic, your voice of reason pushes through the heavy cloud of lust at the forefront of your brain. “Wait, I've never–”

“We don't have to baby,” he cuts you off, wanting to make his intentions clear despite being unable to put an inch of space between the two of you, “and I don't want to just yet, but I…”

His hand that was previously bunched in your dress comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing gently against the redness of your cheek as he calms himself down with a deep breath.

And as he gazes at you with nothing but adoration in his brown irises, you can almost feel the words coming before he says them out loud.

“I…I am so in love with you,” he begins, fighting a chuckle born out of the absurd location of this sudden confession, “that sometimes, when I look at you, I can’t even think straight, and I…” he trails off, struggling to find the right words the longer he stares at you.

You, on the other hand, are practically beaming, bottom lip trapped by your teeth in an attempt to fight the smile you’d be flashing him, so as to not distract him any further. But you soon realize; with him seated between your legs, there’s not much you can do to help him out here.

So you switch to offense, legs squeezing him tight around his waist to pull his hips back to yours. “You what?”

His chocolate eyes darken to a coffee color in seconds, and the hand that was on your hip tightens again, keeping you firm in place on the table as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Sometimes I wish I could just show you how much you drive me crazy.”

You don’t hesitate, lifting your chin to meet his lips in a deceptively chaste kiss as your hands fall onto the buttons on his shirt, playing with them just to rile him up further.

You shrug, feigning indifference. “Maybe you can.”

And at that, before you can even register what’s happening, he’s sliding an arm around your waist and under your knees, picking you up and heading towards your bedroom with a chuckle.

“Maybe I should.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

click to read Sugar Across The Hall

[hariboz]

NEW YEARS KISS

“your best friend decides to volunteer when you complain about not having anyone to kiss on new year’s eve!”

pairing: bff!gyuvin x gn!reader

genre: fluff!!, friends to lovers!!

warnings: reader is somewhat of a romantic (?), reader is also said to be a little inexperienced in terms of dating!!, a little (implied?) jealousy from gyuvin, seunghan cameo (1. FREE HIM!! HE DID NOTHING!! 2. he was the first non-jebi guy i thought of <3), they’re cute <3, this is nawt my best work i literally wrote this on new year’s eve while with my family 😭

notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY POOKIES!! i hope all of you have an amazing, healthy and happy 2024 🥹🫶🏻 may all your goals come to fruition!! also, i’m very excited for a new year with my jebis, may they continue to thrive and be as happy as they can be <3 also, hope wakeone burns down xoxo MWAH LOVE U ALL <33 ALSO!! i picked gyuvin for this bc some knetz are pissing me off currently with their stupid hate for gyuvin, so i decided to write this bc i LOVE KIM GYUVIN!! IF YOU DONT MAY GOD STRIKE YOU DOWN

word count: 1.6k

you don’t mind being single, really. it’s not really the ‘being single’ part that makes you feel weird, but rather just…not getting to have the same experiences as your friends. always having to sit and nod along when they talk about a date they went on, or how they celebrated a holiday with their partner. it’s exhausting being surrounded by couples all the time. they’re all your friends and you’re happy for them, but when it comes to events like this, you really wish you’d have more single friends.

new year’s eve is supposed to be fun, filled with laughter and loud excitement for the coming year — it is all that, but it’s also you watching your friends huddle together once the countdown to midnight starts, sharing sweet nothings before celebrating the new year with a sickeningly sweet new years kiss.

all while you kind of just stand there, celebrating the arrival of yet another year on your own. for those few lips-locking seconds, at least. is it a little silly to feel left out? of course, but is it really that absurd to want to experience a new years kiss just like everyone else? well, you don’t think so. gyuvin, your best friend, sees things a little differently, though.

“it’s so stupid, i don’t get why you’re so hung up on it,” gyuvin huffs past his snacking on some chips, throwing you a sideways glance. “just think about it, most of them have a different new year’s kiss every year. does that seem like something you want?” you roll your eyes, snatching the bag of chips from his hands. “you don’t get it,” you stuff a handful of chips into your mouth, “it’s romantic. it’s like saying ‘i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you.’ you’re not romantic enough for this.”

gyuvin just gives you a skeptic look, turning his attention back to the drama playing on your tv. it’s silent for a while, both of you a little lost in your respective thoughts until gyuvin quietly speaks up, “does it really bother you? that you don’t have someone to….” he trails off, voice a little unsure. his voice is sincere and doesn’t have the teasing tone it had earlier so you’re a little caught off guard.

you clear your throat, answering in an equally small voice, “well…yeah, kinda? i don’t know. i just think it would be…nice, for a change, you know? i want to experience stuff like that too, instead of just always watching from the sidelines.” gyuvin nods, seemingly understanding where you’re coming from, and that was that. for now, at least.

you didn’t think much of that little one off conversation, neither of you bringing it up again in the weeks that followed. though, unbeknownst to you, that seemingly unimportant conversation kept knocking at the back of gyuvin’s mind every single day. he thought about it an embarrassing amount, really. he kept telling himself that it was because he thought you were being silly, and all those times he thought about being the one giving you your new year’s kiss were definitely nothing more than fleeting, stupid thoughts. nothing more.

which is why gyuvin is so conflicted when he walks through the door of your little friend group get together on new year’s eve, bags of snacks in hand, only to see you laughing with a guy he hasn’t seen before. there’s an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his chest and he almost involuntarily thinks back to your conversation, to the fact that you really want to kiss someone once the clock strikes midnight — and it starts to mess with his head.

he’s quickly roped into a conversation with ricky and some of his other friends, though his eye seem to be glued to you instead of the people talking to him right in front of him; his eyes drifting back to you giggling along to whatever that strange guy was talking about every few minutes, the unsettled feeling in his chest spreading all over his body. “are you even listening?” gyuvin’s attention is ripped away from staring holes in that guys head when ricky addresses him directly, ricky’s hand on his shoulder bringing him back to reality.

“yeah, sorry.” the smile on gyuvin’s face is tight, ricky glancing to where you’re still speaking to the guy and it all makes sense to him. he sends gyuvin a sympathetic look and tries to keep up the conversation, though it’s clear gyuvin’s mind is entirely preoccupied.

when the calls for new snacks start, gyuvin immediately volunteers to filling the bowls back up in the kitchen, if only to avoid his eyes from drifting back to you and the guy — whose name is seunghan, he learned — and in turn dampening his mood even further. today is supposed to be fun, why is he moping around like this?

“what did the chips do to you? you’re practically glaring ar them,” gyuvin’s head whips around at your voice, the playful smile on your face lifting some of the heaviness in his chest when he sees you standing in the doorway.

“oh, hey.” gyuvin gives you a small smile and goes back to his snack duties while trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “who’s the guy you’ve been talking to? you bring him along?”

shaking your head you reach over to steal a handful of cheese puffs gyuvin had just emptied into a bowl, “not me, but ahrin. his name is seunghan and she has her eye on him,” you mumble, “he’s funny and they both seem to like each other.” gyuvin nods, hand absentmindedly playing with his sleeves, “you think she’ll go for the new years kiss with him?” gyuvin asks, and you can tell he regrets the question as soon as he asked it.

you just shrug silently, the sudden mention of the kiss rendering you a little speechless. “ and you? you got anyone to kiss this year?” gyuvin says in an overly sarcastic tone, seemingly in an effort to loosen the tension a little. you snort at that, “ha ha, very funny. leave me and my romantic aspirations alone,” the lightheartedness in your voice makes gyuvin relax a little, and just when he’s about to speak, someone bangs against the kitchen door, demanding your attention.

“c’mon you two, we’re playing some games,” matthew calls before rushing back to the living room. you and gyuvin share a short glance before loading up on all the snacks and following suit, excited for the mess that is most definitely about to ensue.

two screaming matches, one round of (rigged, according to hao) just dance, three bowls of snacks and dozens of tears spilt through laughter later and the almost dreaded countdown to midnight is inching closer. the couples are slowly starting to separate from the group again, looking for an area that is less crowded and a little more romantic. your high mood is slowly starting to go down, the feeling of once again being the third wheel, in a way, accompanied by this off-putting feeling of loneliness in a room full of your friends bringing the self-doubt at the back of your mind to the forefront again.

gyuvin plops down next to you, stretching his long limbs with a groan, “god i hate sitting on the floor,” he looks around, the amount of couples in your friend group only now really hitting him, “damn, is that kiss really that important?” it was a rhetorical question, really, and he was speaking to himself more than anything, yet you turn to scowl at him.

you open your mouth to go on a rant about the lack of romance in gyuvin’s mindset when he suddenly turns to you, cheeks a little flushed but eyes filled with determination, “i’ll do it.”

you blink at him, “huh? do what?” gyuvin swallows, “kiss you. give you the new years kiss you want.” it takes a second for his words to register, before you splutter at him incredulously, “what— gyuvin why would we—“

“okay, time for the countdown! ten!” you hear from the other side of the room, and panic starts to fill gyuvin’s expression. “because i want to. i’ve been thinking about it ever since you mentioned it, and—“

“seven!”

“you said it was like saying that i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you, right?” his eyes search for yours, his pupils shaking and you nod, still a little stunned.

“four!”

“that’s exactly i want to tell you. so please—“

“three!”

“i want to be the one to give you your new years kiss. if you want—“

“two!”

and then, it happens. you grab his face and pull him close, hesitation for just a millisecond before your lips meet right as it reaches midnight. the fireworks outside colouring the sky feel almost pathetic in comparison to the burst of emotions exploding in your chest, it’s warm and fuzzy and just feels so right.

both of your faces are flushed bright red as your lips separate, but neither of you can keep from biting back the goofy smiles spreading on your faces. before you can even begin to think of something to say gyuvin leans back in, pressing another kiss to your lips.

and another. and another…and another.

you only separate for good when your giggles break through the kiss, gyuvin’s hands cupping your face, “i’d say that was a pretty good start into the new year, no?”

[brionbroadway]

i have watched an absurd amount of big brother and reality tv in general, and this is genuinely one of the wildest things i've ever seen

[atarathegreat]

Crackhead Headcanons Tokyo Revengers

ft: Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Yamagishi Kazushi, Shinichiro Sano, Wakasa Imuashi

Ran

wraps himself up in a ball with his blankets, but it's an absurd amount of blankets

if rindou isn't careful he'll end up as part of ran's blanket ball

stands with his hands on his hips because he thinks it makes him look intimidating

has bunny ears on his gaming headset, flops them around when he plays

ran definitely fights rindou over who gets to play (mom said it's my turn on the xbox!)

bro will fall asleep wherever he wants

has slept on the side of the road, leaving rindou no choice but to watch over his brother.

Rindou

sleeps under his bed often

thinks the color blue brings out his eyes (he's right)

get's good grades but pretends he doesn't

used to make ran make pillow forts with him, putting up 'no girls allowed' signs

unironically calls himself a gamer

crops people out of pictures of him and ran

bonten!rindou carries a little flask with him and takes a drink everytime sanzu talks

Sanzu

gets absolutely obsessed with anyone he even remotely likes

sleeps with little stuffies so he can be curled around something

I know this man carries around a pocket book just to confuse everyone

bonten!sanzu who uses checks to annoy everyone in the store lines

writes them out super slow just to make it a longer experience

sends riddles instead of straight forward texts to keep rindou in the dark about what's going on

Yamagishi

drinks coffee because he thinks it makes him look sophisticated

thinks he gives off Double O7 vibes when his hair is down

has sat in the Mizo Mid boys rooms waiting for them to wake up early in the morning

sneaks into adult shops with makoto just to see the magazines

timeskip!Yamagishi acts bored and out of it so that no one sees his nerdy side

timeskip!yamagishi who sleeps sitting up wherever he can

Shinichiro

thinks girls dig the mechanics jumpsuit

always has a wrench with him

is scared of women

convinced he has a car and keeps a box of wires in the trunk

hordes pieces of wood and wires and metals

flirts with older women

once brought home an older woman who left him for his granddad

Wakasa

has a box of sweets that he eats on all day

uses the dango stick in his mouth to poke people randomly

has fishing poles all around his home

joins fishing tournaments for fun, he won once and hung the plaque in his living room

acts like a bored dad when anyone is around him, especially when benkei goes fishing with him

drinks beer like its water

watches reality tv show and gets invested

[wc-confessions]

I’ll do a full breakdown of why the news surrounding the Tencent animation disappoints me.

Disclaimer: while you can have criticisms about Tencent as they seem to be a controversial company, don’t use it as an excuse to be sinophobic. If your thoughts ever go to “well of course a Chinese production would suck” or something of that ilk, please stop right there. The main issues are corporate greed and laziness, not China. Got it? Time to carry on.

Firstly, it strikes me as more of a proof of concept than an actual announcement. It’s the most minor problem IMO, so I’ll let them off the hook. They probably wanted to make sure people knew it was being worked on.

Secondly, AI. Warrior Cats is an art-centric community; it’s no wonder fans are pissed. I don’t like AI art, you - a (probable) Warriors fan reading this - likely don’t like AI art, your father doesn’t like AI art, everyone here doesn’t like AI art. Which means I’m going to argue on a more technical side. Looking at the confirmed and possible AI art, I have a question. What do they achieve? They don’t fit with the style of the hand-drawn illustrations, they resemble galaxy cats in space, while that Yellowfang generation is just a bootleg of the reprinted Rising Storm cover. Their existence in the presentation is a waste of time and resources (literally, AI prompts use up absurd amounts of water). I’d rather them show exclusively human art because you can tell they’re going in a direction, even if it’s uninteresting.

Speaking of the presumably human art, oh boy. To start off mildly positive, I’ll say a majority of the illustrations are decent. You get some character designs and scene concepts. They’re clearly playing with art style. I don’t find them particularly ugly, so… good job! I suppose! Now, to address the elephant in the room: anthro cats. For the love of StarClan, I’m begging on my knees, don’t make these cats anthro in the final product. It would fundamentally break the entire series. They call humans “twolegs” for a reason! Go work on the Redwall movie if you want anthro animals.

Finally, my last concern. As of writing, there hasn’t been confirmation of the Tencent animation being a movie, TV show, or other. My opinion on a TV show is “it’s fine.” Warrior Cats is a long series, making it suitable that it gets a longer adaptation. Meanwhile, my hope for a Warriors movie is as big as a single grain of sand. 

Warrior Cats is borderline unadaptable when it comes to shorter-form media unless you want to dish out a pretty penny. We can already see this with the Prophecies Begin graphic novel; it’s transparent HarperCollins or whoever is in charge of these things didn’t want to pay for six TPB comics, so they had to hastily mash two books together in one. If the Tencent animation is a movie, I’m afraid some concepts already have signs of this. Multiple pieces have what can be assumed to be Fireheart and Tigerclaw fighting. I’m sorry, but that happens later in the books. Are they going to scramble the narrative worse than the graphic novel adaptation? Are we seriously going to wait 20+ years for an official animation, watch at least one high-profile fan project get canned, only for it to be about as accurate as evil snipers in an action movie? If it’s not a movie, ignore what I’ve said. If it is a movie, sigh.

TL;DR: Should’ve made the Little Dragon Studios series official instead of forcing them to cancel, guys.

.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part V

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

V. Talking In Bed

You didn’t exactly pack sexy pajamas, so you make do with an old t-shirt you cut the neck out of, and your nicest pair of panties, forgoing your old sweatpants that are a size too big and have a hole in the leg.

“Is that…a rat?” asks Frank, looking at your t-shirt with a raised eyebrow.

You chortle while looking down at the grinning animal howling at the moon emblazoned on your chest.

“It’s a possum. I made it in art school…five million years ago.”

“Somehow, it suits you.” 

You laugh, crawling into bed with him.

As it turns out, it doesn’t stay on long anyway. You snuggle up together, having a glass of wine in bed, watching a medical drama. When the wine is gone, your attention soon turns from bad tv to making out. Frank asks between kissing you, “So was it Keith who made you feel like you take too long?”

The answer is absolutely yes. He’d guilted you for wanting your own pleasure, complained when you tried to direct him how to touch you, and that affected you forever with other partners, truth be told.

“Ah…yeah.”

“What a prick.”

You can’t help but laugh between kisses that curl your toes. “Agreed.” A moment later you pose, “Is it weird we're talking about your brother in bed?”

“Half-brother. And we've been bashing him all weekend. Why stop now?” 

You sigh, still laughing a little. “Fine. Yes. He traumatized me for life, the asshole.” 

As you say this Frank is kissing down your body. It feels wonderful, but you miss his full mouth on yours. “Hey. Where are you going?” you say, trying to pull him back up. 

“I'll give you three guesses,” he offers, pulling up your t-shirt to kiss your belly.  

“You don't...” Your breath hitches as his tongue dips into the waistband of your panties. Oh god. “…Have to do that.” 

“Have to?” He pulls down your panties a little with his teeth. You watch him down your body with a mixture of amusement and something unnervingly warm in your chest. He should look absurd like this, trying to chew through the strap of your underwear. When in fact…he moves you to the tips of your toes.

“What if I want to?” he asks. 

“Do you?” Somehow, you find it hard to believe. No one ever has wanted to before. It’s always a matter of course, and you sense they don’t enjoy it, which adds to your own anxiety about it all.  

“Yes.” 

That single word—and maybe his tongue exploring your hip, makes you squirm. 

“I like it,” he affirms again. 

“Really?” 

You sound so incredulous. 

“Yes. And, let me tell you something I hope you carry with you after this weekend. Anyone who gives head as good as you do deserves cunnilingus. Copiously.”

You giggle a little, and your panties are dragged down your hips. 

“Frank?”

“Present,” he says to your pubic bone, brushing your downy curls with the tip of his nose.

“I—”

But then his tongue touches your center, and you absolutely forget what you were going to say. 

“You can take as long as you want, baby.” 

The flat of his tongue running up your slit is a marvel, and you don’t think this will take long at all. “Oh.” It only gets better, as this man toys with your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you languorously. Pleasure begins to fill in between your legs, a warm, maddening pressure that makes you arch against him. “Oh god... oh fuck...You're really... good at this.” 

He moans in answer against you, that deep grumble that vibrates through your entire body. The most brilliant feeling coils and throbs inside you, insistent and inevitable.

“Frank... I'm going to cum.”

He makes a sound of encouragement, or so you assume. This orgasm breaks over you like the dawn, slow and scintillating, warm as sunlight. The tingling rush fills the cradle of your hips and spreads up your spine. You arch off the mattress, fighting not to crush his head between your thighs as this consuming sensation has its way with you. He licks you through the aftershocks, until you writhe and beg for mercy from overstimulation. 

He wipes his mouth on the sheets before climbing up your body, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on him, earthy with a hint of salt. You feel the blunt tip of him nudging at your entrance, and you crave the stretch of him entering your body like you need air to breathe. 

“Please?”

He slides inside you like you have always been his to claim, rocking his hips slowly until he's sheathed to the hilt. You are so sensitive after orgasming on his tongue, but it's wonderful. Everything is wonderful, and you wrap your legs around his hips, somehow managing to pull him deeper with a heel on his firm buttocks. 

“Fuck,” he sighs into the bend of your neck. “You are—” He bites down on whatever he was going to say about you, making another primal sound that raises gooseflesh all over your body. He takes this round slow too, and you love just feeling him, running your hands over the powerful contours of his body, the muscles of his arms and back as he unhurriedly fucks you into the mattress. 

“Think you can cum again?” he asks between kisses.

“I…don’t know,” you answer truthfully. The first orgasm was so complete—and the two before that, don’t forget—and you’re feeling pretty fucking satisfied with this day.

“Hmm. Can I flip you over?”

Although you’ll be sad to lose him in this perfectly connected missionary position, you nod. Maybe it was feeling too intimate for him. It was certainly…intense, for you, and maybe you need to pump the brakes before you start catching all these feelings for this man who obviously isn’t optimistic about the staying power of human relationships.

But then, you can’t help but muse, as he positions you on your stomach with pillows under your hips, that he doesn’t touch you like something disposable meant for his own pleasure. He touches you like he might break you if he’s not careful, like he can’t quite believe you’re real under his big hands and strong fingers.

Again he sheathes himself inside you, and a ragged moan is your reward as you tilt your hips and clench around him. You look up to find you can see the two of you reflected in the vintage full length mirror in the corner of the room.

The two of you should look absolutely look ridiculous like this, with your ass in the air, naked, joined. But all you can think is that this moment is beautiful. “Take off your shirt,” you request, and after considering you for a moment, tilting his head to make that lovely dark hair swing down around his eyes, he complies for you.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, and it is utterly electric, a primal thing you feel in the very marrow of your bones, your walls fluttering around his cock buried inside you. You really didn’t think it possible, but just looking at him like this turns you on all over again. “You are gorgeous,” you tell him, and just for a moment his fingers tighten on the meat of your hips, maybe hard enough to bruise.

You don’t mind.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“Only if you mean it.”

“You are,” he answers without hesitation, and he begins to move, sliding completely out of you before plunging back into your tight little hole. He loses himself like that for a minute, using you for his pleasure and you gladly take it all.

“Why don’t you touch yourself?” he pants, slowing down inside you. You feel the strain of it in his back, the shudder in his arms.

“What?”

“Never tried it?”

Not with someone else in bed with you.

“No.” You’ve never been that comfortable with anyone.

“No time like the present.” The glide of his manhood inside you is maddening, his thickness stretching you in such a delicious way.

“You don’t mind that?”

“I’d love it. Take your pleasure, y/n. Use me. Cum on my dick again, I want to feel it.”

He seems so intent on it that you don’t want to deny him. Tentatively you reach between your legs, finding your swollen clit with your middle fingers, the way you would if you were alone…and oh. This is good, with him inside you. Inadvertently you clench harder, chasing your orgasm, the possibility of release not so elusive as you’d thought it would be.

“Yeah, like that baby,” he coaxes, and you glance up to see him with his head thrown back, concentrating on moving rhythmically inside you, for you. The thought fills you with such warmth, it’s as much of a turn on as his cock or your sticky little fingers. He bends over you, bracing himself with one arm so that he can touch your nipple, flicking you between his fingers in a way that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your groin, like throwing gasoline on a bonfire. You whimper, wanting it so badly suddenly and utterly surprised its even possible. You literally did not know your body was capable of this.

“So good,” Frank coaxes in your ear, the soft scruff of his beard against your cheek. “That’s my good girl, give it to me.”

You’re not sure what tips you over the edge; the praise, or the feeling of him utterly surrounding you while completely filling you, the timbre of his deep voice or his clever fingers on your tits or the way he moves his hips, but suddenly you are lost—the explosion of your orgasm hits you with a force that makes you see colors, bright oranges and yellows and peridot greens dance in your mind as your greedy cunt flutters on his cock.

Frank sinks his teeth in your shoulder as he thrusts quickly and deeply inside you, chasing your pleasure and soon following with his own, groaning into your hair. His hips snap against the pillow of your rear end, driving himself as deep as he can as he spills inside you. You feel the hot rush deep in your core, the aftershocks of your orgasm milking him further.

He collapses on top of you; you are too spent to protest. This is how you die; smothered by this beautiful man after the most mind-bending coitus of your life. Eventually you make a muffled sound that sort of sounds like, “I can’t breathe.”

With a satisfied sigh he shifts slightly, but does not abandon you, his heavy arm still looped over your waist, his manhood still sheathed inside you. His breathing deepens behind you, and you find you have zero interest in dislodging him. This is all too sweet, too perfect to be real. You doze together like that for at least half an hour.

He’s the one who stirs first behind you, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear. “This has got to be the most decadent day of my life,” he muses into your hair. “Three rounds of incredible unprotected sex with a beautiful woman I just met a day ago. There has to be some catch. The gods will punish us accordingly for living too well.”

“Is it that hard to believe we’re allowed to have something good for ourselves once in a while?”

“Yes. That’s not how life works. What’s the success rate of a modern IUD?”

“99.8 percent.”

“Hmm. It’s not perfect.”

You snort, if not sleepily.

“Believe me, I am not looking to be a mother any time soon.”

“Ever?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really heard the tick tock of the maternal clock everyone talks about. Giving my life over to the thankless servitude of motherhood doesn’t appeal to me, for some reason.”

“Oh good. I was afraid I was the only one with mommy issues.”

“I do not have mommy issues.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Ok, maybe my mother and I are sort of at odds.”

 “Here we go.”

“She’s never really seemed happy in her conventional stay-at-home mother life-path, but she definitely tried to push it on me as the best choice when I was almost too young to know better.”

“There it is.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

He chuckles sleepily, pulling you closer into the warm shelter of his broader body. “Misery loves company.”

“What about you?”

“What what about me?”

“Do you…want kids?”

“I would rather be dead in a ditch.”

“Wow. Ok then.”

“Being alive is such a miserable farce, why would I knowingly inflict it on innocent children?”

You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “Suddenly, it doesn’t seem all bad.”

“Think of all the pain you’ve gone through to get to this moment. Or maybe, that perfect, fleeting moment a little while ago, more like, the afterglow of which we are still enjoying. Was that really worth it?”

“Maybe.”

“For a half-tolerable day with a stranger who you’re never going to see again?”

This causes you to freeze in his grasp, holding your breath. For a long moment you feel like even your heart ceases to beat. “You…never want to see me again?”

It’s his turn to still behind you. “Not necessarily. That’s just…how these things go.” You can’t tell if he’s sad about it, or just resigned, the way he’s resigned to everything being total shit.

“They…don’t have to? If we decide…different?”

“Come on, honey. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Take exception to feeling like a throw away cocksleeve?”

“Did you expect me to propose?”

“Of course not. I just…you couldn’t even pretend until tomorrow morning that maybe I meant a little to you?”

Suddenly your throat is too tight, and your vision is clouded with tears. It hurts. Everything just hurts, and somehow it hurts worse now than when this whole fucking misadventure started.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, sliding out of bed. The air feels so cold without his furnace of a body wrapped around you.

“Y/n. Please don’t go.”

“Being around you feels like being electrocuted,” you blurt, looking desperately through the bedclothes for your panties. Where the fuck did he put them?

He slumps at hearing that, suddenly very interested in the wall.

“I get that a lot.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” you try to explain, unable to see very well through the film of your tears. Great. Nothing like having an argument with your beaver out.

“Oh yes. The good kind of electrocution,” he snarks, though there is a spark of what might be hope in his dark eyes.

“There is just something about you. You don’t mince words for anyone, you constantly tell the truth, and it’s exciting and low key uncomfortable, and I get some weird little rush out of knowing you might insult me any minute and then I get to verbally spar with you and you have some brilliant riposte for anything I say, it’s the most fun I’ve had with any man in a long time, and this whole weekend I’ve had this prickly heat just crawling under my skin and I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

 “You really talk it up, when you put it that way.”

You are so relieved, when anger arrives on the battlefield, and you’re able to get your shit together well enough to actually think.

“Look,” you say forcefully, pointing at him. “I usually fucking hate it when people say things happen for a reason.”

“Yes. It’s incredibly conceited.”

“Right. Because it implies when bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it, it was good somehow?”

“Go on.”

“But what if…”

“Oh God.”

“What if we met here, for a reason? Like my whole horrible fucking ordeal with Keith was somehow a trial…that brought me here to you?”

Immediately he shakes his head, something like panic in his eyes.

“Oh no. We’re not doing the this was meant to be thing.”

“You won’t even consider the sliver of a possibility?”

“You don’t even like me.”

“Who said I don’t like you?”

“No one likes me!”

“I do like you.”

He actually growls at this, as though the concept is so foreign, the possibility is terrifying.

But you also know that getting involved with a man like this is a bit like petting an abused dog. At any moment if it perceives you look at it wrong, it might snap, it might hurt you. With words, in Frank’s case, but to your tender heart that’s almost the same as taking a physical blow. Yet…you do not care. Because when things are good with this man…they are splendid, and you feel like it’s worth the price.

It’s worth a try, at any rate.

Yet the way he is looking at you—it doesn’t look good.

“You really don’t think this thing we have is special at all?”

You hate how much it hurts, to ask this question.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I am resigned to the fact that this will go no further than this weekend. These things never do. I’ll say I’ll call you, or you’ll say you’ll visit me, but it just never happens, and we waste our time on that glimmer of hope for some tiny aspect of life to not turn out to be complete shit—just to have it snatched away by the march of time.”

“Jesus, it’s so fucking terrible when you say it that way.”

“It’s just the truth. It’s life.”

You shake your head, whirling to go, panties or no. He can watch your bare ass as you walk out of his life forever.

“Wait, come on, don’t go.”

“Why not? What’s the point? What’s the point of anything?”

“Living in the moment?”

“Well, in this moment, I kind of feel like shit, so I think I’ll bounce.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because you like my company?”

“Yes.”

“Is it so fucking hard to admit that?”

“Yes, because any time I ever have the naivety to admit the slightest fondness for anything, the universe finds a way to snatch it away.”

You march back to the bed, jumping up to sit on the corner just out of reach with your arms crossed. You wait, looking around.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting to see if the universe strikes me dead.”

He gives that growling sigh that you are finding increasingly endearing as you get to know him. “Come here,” he says, holding out his arms.

Finally you crawl to him, and some restlessness settles inside you when he pulls you against him. From the small sigh he gives, you think he might feel the same way, and his grip tightens on you a little more. You’re not sure who kisses who, exactly, just that your mouths are pressed together, and for a little longer it seems like something is going right in the world.  

“If you haven’t noticed…I’m kind of a huge asshole.”

“Yeah,” you agree, and he snorts into the top of your head. “But you know what? You’re also kind of sweet…sometimes.”

“It’s a curse.”

“Only if you treat it that way.”

It just makes him hold you harder.

“No one can put up with me for long, y/n. Not even my own mother. My own father tried to kill me. It’s just facts. That’s why we’re going to enjoy the rest of this weekend, and when we get back home, we’re going to part as friends.”

You sigh, leaning even more against him. The film of tears is back, and you hide under his chin.

“You’re not even willing to try?”

“I’m doing you a favor. Believe me. I am what I am and it’s too late to fix me.”

“What if I don’t think you’re broken?”

“Very funny.”

“I meant it when I said I like you.”

“I like you too. It’s more than I can say for most people. Want to watch a movie or something?”

You nod, and you settle in together under the blanket to watch some stupid action flick. You can’t really focus on it, because Frank’s arms are around you, and it still feels like you have a live wire sparking under your skin.

[technically-a-kiwi]

Lol, imagine this : cosmic horror AU

The Noise would be the charismatic TV host of chaos, hosting his mysterious show, his public would be the souls of the damned, and his audience would be random people who watched TV at the wrong time and at the wrong place, they are the unsuspected victimes of The Noise's game, a game starting as simple challenges and slowly turning into psychological torture, he'd be narrating your moves like a sports narrator you hear on TV, if you survive those challenges, you'll go back to your life... But you'll never be the same... If you fail, you'll be part of The Noise's audience... forever. Ooooh this is so edgy I love it >:)

Appearance wise it'd just be Cosmic Noise in a less cartoony style with half of his face skin missing revealing a second row of teeth on top of his current teeth (you know like you see in children skull X rays) it's gross, it's creepy, I love it

As for Peppino he'd be the Great Primal Cosmic chef, creating every level of existence from his mighty pizza oven, and blessing humanity with the art of cooking and the Holy Book of Recipe. His words are of unmatched wisdom (and loudness) but are somehow of common comprehension, his presence is overwhelming and yet somehow comforting, he's so calm and so unstable at the same time, he creates in love and in wrath. Peppino is a contradicting deity and his authority is often challenged, his existence only been reduced to fairytales (so yeah basically Italian Arceus). Despite having an age beyond compression, his omnipotence and omniscience and his status as the Cosmic chef, he's one of the most human cosmic entity of them all, experiencing feelings like loneliness, stress and fear. He combats those feelings by cooking, pretty much being a workaholic, it kinda works but he's still pretty lonely.

Appearance wise he'd be cosmic pep in less cartoony style but absurdly huge, like no matter how you tilte your head up you'd only see the beginning of his collar at best, basically being like miss Bellum. And if somehow you manage to get around head level he'd cover his face with a pan, if you're mortal it's because you'd burn if you see his face and if not it's because he doesn't want you to see his disfigured face he got after a cosmic battle with The Noise. He'd be translucent, his body is marbled with scars of past fights, and his overall color palette would be a lot more cooler and darker with his apron and chef hat being the only bright thing on his body.

Yes it's absurd, yes Peppino is God in this AU, yes I made my favorite character into an OP being, yes I'm being a kid. It's meant to be edgy and it will.

Ohhhh but I see you from miles away "BuT wHaT aBoUt CoSmIc FaKe ???!?!!??!" I KNOW YOU WERE ABOUT TO SAY IT, KIWI SEES ALL 👁️👁️, well lucky for you, I may have an idea for our fav ticket stand

THE FAKER is a shapeless dark entity, with infinite amount of faker faces on its body, it hides itself inside a ticket stand where it waits for unsuspected victimes, if you go to the ticket stand and ask for a ticket, a voice will invite you inside, wether or not you accept the invitation, a hand will drag you inside, your body will slowly be assimilated, your mind shifts into one that isn't your own, you feel like you don't know who you are, you feel cold, but one thing is for sure, you have to be so big, strong and mighty to the point you'll rival the might of the Cosmic chef. So yeah basically here it's the thing who wants to be a god.

Okay I'm done with my trip, obviously it's not canon in anyway and it's just my inner kid (and idiot) expressing itself. It doesn't have much of any link with True cosmic, only vaguely taking some of its ideas and exaggerating them to make them sound creepy. I really love horror in general and since Cosmic Au is already absurd I just want to push it to the max and make it an edgy and angst mess. I'd probably design it someday but I already have so much to do ! You know what, to anyone who managed to read this far, I challenge you into drawing those characters using the description I wrote.

If this post gets some people interested maybe I'll do the rest of the cast...

Okay NOW I'm going back to work...

[bow-of-aros]

What do you want, Pete?

I decided to just say fuck it and post this here in its entirety just for funsies :))

Summary:

What if the thing that Peter Spankoffski treasured most wasn't Stephanie Lauter, but instead his older brother who'd gone missing months ago?

Guys. I've gone literally insane over this series. Ted and Peter are so babygirl to me I love them so much. I just. ALDSJDKSJLDAJKSJK you know?? Anyway, enjoy this idea that took over my brain until I got it out!! <33

One of you must give up the thing you treasure above all else. 

Those words ring in Peter’s ears. Vaguely, he can hear Steph offer something with a very unpleased reception that makes him cringe out of some deep-seated survival instinct, and he feels fingers that are longer than they should be and uncannily boneless card through his hair.

“Steph?”

His voice reverberates through his head as though coming from underwater. His eyes land on the gun in her lap, and something in the back of his mind whispers danger!

It’s drowned out by the crash of memories that yell TED!

Ted Spankoffski, Pete’s older brother by over a decade and the only family member who’d ever bothered to give half a shit about him. Their parents had dropped Peter off at his doorstep at the ripe young age of six, right when they realized that a second child wasn’t going to be the thing that saved their failing marriage and fucked off to who knows where. The only contact he had with them was when they sent Ted money to put towards supporting a whole ass other person when he was just barely out of college.

Every time he met someone, they would raise their eyebrows and say, “Spankoffski? Like Ted Spankoffski?” and then pat him on the shoulder sympathetically when he said yes. Pete always had to push down the anger that threatened to bubble up because, yeah, Ted could be an asshole, but nobody even bothered to know him before making their fucking judgments.

Ted had had a shitty life, with the same shitty parents Peter had, and then had a child dumped on him before he’d even had the chance to properly figure out who he was.

By all accounts, Ted should’ve been an awful guardian, and it’s what everyone seemed to assume. But damn if he hadn’t done his best.

He’d driven Peter to school until he was old enough to take the bus on his own. He’d shown up to every science fair and asked a shitload of questions just to make Peter smile as he answered them. He dressed Peter up for every pointless graduation and cheered embarrassingly loudly when his little brother walked across the stage.

When Pete got older, Ted had been the person to cut his hair and take him shopping for new clothes when he first came out as trans. He’d sat the kid down and told him that he’d always have Ted, and always have a room in his apartment. Then, he’d added that if any of Peter’s dork-ass friends ever needed a place to crash, that the door was always open.

A few months ago, Ted had left mid-hookup with Charlotte Sweetly to pick up a bruised and bloodied Peter from school. He’d almost made it through the school day before bumping into Max Jägerman on the way out and Ted had made it across town in an amount of time that had to have been illegal. They’d spent the rest of the night after getting Pete patched up and sitting on the couch watching trashy TV, Ted muttering increasingly absurd threats of violence towards someone half his age the whole time until Peter finally cracked a smile.

The next morning, Peter Spankoffski had woken up, and his brother wasn’t there.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. Ted might’ve gone to work early (unlikely) or met up with a friend (what friend?). But, after hundreds of unread texts and unanswered calls, Peter asking anyone he could think of if they’d seen Ted to no avail, and waiting up every night until he passed out from sheer exhaustion, straining his ears for footsteps that never came, well…

It’s Hatchetfield. People go missing every day.

“Pete?” A hand on his shoulder ripped him back to the present, and Peter scrubbed away tears as he looked at Steph’s terrified face.

He turned his face away from her.

He blinked.

And he found himself looking into the glowing yellow eyes of the crazy-ass goat man who seemed to already know him. T’noy Karaxis, a voice whispered into his ear, a foreboding sense of familiarity washing over him, making his blood run cold.

The Lord in Black grinned impossibly wide at him, blue tongue lolling out and the stench of death radiating off of it.

“Hi Petey-pie!” It laughed, and the laugh grated against his hears for seconds and for eons, “I think that I know what you want~”

Its voice had a horrible sing-song quality to it, like someone who’s thrilled to know a secret that you don’t. The longer that Peter looked into its eyes, the harder his head pounded. Its rectangular pupils stretched far and wide, twisting into never-ending corridors that sent bursts of pain through him as his brain tried to wrap itself around the impossibilities.

“HEY!” The hand on his shoulder yanked him back, the paths of yellow fading as he saw Steph standing between him and that monster. “Leave him alone! What the fuck is your deal?!”

Its smile didn’t fade and Peter could feel its eyes burning into him even through the girl in front of him. The intensity only increased when he blinked to find Wiggly standing next to him, beaming with the sort of glee he would attribute to a kid on Christmas morning.

“Now, now,” He chided, “I’ve convinced my brother here to give up something very dear to him and it wouldn’t be nice if my little fwendy wend didn’t hear him out.”

Peter tried to smile reassuringly at Steph, but the It’s okay, I can do this that he’d wanted to convey had probably leaned more into Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Either way, she seemed to understand what he was getting at and stepped out of the way.

The second she did, a bright yellow flash blinded him. He could feel reality warp around him as the chilling screams from across hundreds of thousands of universes converged in this one fragile moment. When Peter opened his eyes again, blinking away the dots seared into his vision, what he saw nearly brought him to his knees.

Ted looked exactly as he did the last night they saw each other save for the tear tracks that streamed down his cheeks, soaking his shirt.

His brother looked up and a small gasp escaped his lips.

“Petey?”

Suddenly, this ritual meant nothing. The Lords in Black and Max Jägerman and this whole fucking town could go fuck themselves because Peter wasn’t alone anymore.

“Ted! Holy shit!” Neither of them mentioned how Peter’s voice cracked as he launched himself into his brother’s arms, sobbing into his chest as familiar arms wrapped around him and held him so tight he felt like he might explode. Finally, finally, he was safe.

“How touching.”

Except he wasn’t.

Their arms tightened impossibly more around each other as they looked up at Wiggly through teary eyes, clinging onto the flimsy hope that they wouldn’t be separated again if they could only will it hard enough.

Surprisingly, it was Ted who spoke first, “What the fuck do you want with my brother you sick fucks?! AM I NOT FUCKING ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Wiggly didn’t bother to acknowledge the outburst, attention solely fixed on Peter, green light seeping out of him and into the teenager’s pores, filling every inch of him with a sense of wrong.

“This is the other option,” The Lord’s eyes shone as maliciousness seeped into its voice, “Tinky has enough Teds to last him a good, long while, but things will be a little empty without him there. So, if you want us to take Maxwell off your plate, you can trade him,” A crooked finger pointed at Steph, “for her.”

Immediately, Peter and Ted started talking over each other.

“What?! I don’t even know where he’s been—”

“She’s a fucking child you can’t put her in the Box—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Wiggly silenced them both. His wrathful tone is in stark contrast to the rest of the Lords grinning and dancing behind him.

He stared down at them, “Alright, let’s make this a little more interesting. If you don’t want to trade him in, you have to send him back. You need to say the words I condemn my big brother to an eternity of torture to save a girl who talked to me for the first time a few weeks ago.”

Wiggly’s arms were spread wide, palms up like a benevolent god, “Your choice, Peter. Of course,” He said, walking back over to Steph, “You won’t have to give up your brother if she puts a bullet through your skull. Just think, you could set your brother free, and you have options!”

A cacophony of laughter echoed through the gym, rattling their bones and reverberating against the crash of thunder that sounded outside.

“We’ll leave you to decide. Hopefully, Maxy doesn’t get you first!”

And then they vanish, but not without Tinky leering at the still entangled brothers and whispering Tick-fucking-tock.

Silence rings through the space, the only thing keeping Pete grounded being the warmth of his brother at his side. Steph is looking down at the gun in her trembling hands, tears slowly starting to drip from her eyes as Grace just stares down at the Black Book, blood drained from her face and seemingly catatonic.

“Pete. Petey.” Ted turns to look him in the eye and there’s something achingly different. Aside from the sliver of yellow that rings his pupils, they look so old and so scared. Like he’s been away for decades instead of months, seeing things no one should ever have to see.

And from what he’s heard, that might not be too far off.

Still, Ted pressed his lips into a firm line to steady his voice before saying, “You have to send me back. The Box is no place for a kid and you will not fucking die, do you hear me?!”

No matter how tight Ted is holding on, Peter can still feel how he’s shaking, can still hear the slight break in his voice as Ted’s eyes dart frantically across his face, drinking in the sight of the brother he thought he’d never see again.

“I can’t. I can’t.” He’s crying again, but Peter can’t be bothered to give a damn right now, “I love you. You’ve been gone for months and it’s been horrible. I can’t do this without you Teddy.”

Ted flinched at that, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath as emotions flickered across his face too quickly for Peter to decipher.

“I love you too, Pete. That’s why I can’t let you be fucking stupid, okay?!” Ted ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but you have to let me protect you. Send me back and never even think about the Lords in Black again, graduate high school and live your life and date Stephanie fucking Lauter.”

At her name, Peter’s eyes flickered up.

He looked at her.

He looked at the gun in her hands.

He looked back at his brother.

“You’ve protected me my whole life. It’s my fucking turn.”

Peter disentangled himself from Ted despite his frantic protests and ran up to Steph, wrapping his hands around hers and, subsequently, curling her fingers around the gun.

“Steph—” He was cut off almost immediately.

“No. Nonononono Pete I won’t. I can’t.” She pleaded with him, “Trade me in, I don’t have anything left here anymore. My dad’s dead, I never really had any friends, and any potential I had went down the gutter years ago."

Her gaze flickered over to Ted who was not-so-subtly trying to inch closer to Grace and the Book, much to Grace’s growing annoyance. “But you can get your brother back! I know how much you’ve missed him, how much he means to you. You’re going to make a real difference, Pete. You have shit to live for and I don’t.”

Ted was walking up to them now, having given up on Grace, and seeing how determined he was to keep them safe only solidified the decision he’d already made.

“Look. I’m not sending either of you into whatever Hell dimension Ted literally just got out of.” Peter turned to face them both, speaking fast and leaving no room for interruption, “I’ll let Max kill me before I do that to either of you. I’m dying either way, let me at least do something good with it.”

Something shifted in Steph’s face, a realization that Peter wouldn’t be swayed, and she nodded shakily as she adjusted her grip on the gun.

“Do it, Steph. Please.”

He took a few steps back, ignoring Ted’s desperate Nononono Petey you can’t fucking do this! He tried to rush forward, but Steph raised the gun and aimed it right at Peter’s forehead.

BANG!

A force knocked Peter down, sending him to the ground as pain exploded through the back of his head.

Wait. The back?

Peter fought through the swimming in his head to pry his eyes open just to see that what was weighing him down actually wasn’t the darkness coming to claim him.

It was Ted.

“Ow! Ow ow ow fucking OW!” Ted rolled off from on top of his younger brother, clutching at his shoulder, “Your aim is fucking shit, Lauter! Jesus Christ.”

Peter quickly scrambled to his knees, hovering over his brother who had just taken a bullet for him, tears welling up again for the millionth time, because apparently today was the day for it.

“Shit Ted!” He wasted no time in ripping off his sweater, leaving him in his white collared shirt, and pressing it to the rapidly bleeding wound in his shoulder, “You dumbass! What the fuck were you thinking?!”

And Ted laughed at him, “What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck were you thinking?! That bullet wasn’t even going to hit you in the head!” Peter pressed down a little harder and Ted hissed out a breath from between his teeth, “Holy shit being shot hurts more than I thought it was going to and I have had a lot of shit done to me.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“Well, well, well,” Thunder rumbled through the gym, seemingly disregarding trivial things like walls and ceilings in its volume, “Look at what we have here.”

“Oh God. He’s here.” Steph crowded up against Peter and Ted, shielding them with her body as Peter desperately tried to keep the pressure firm with his shaking hands.

“I didn’t know that there were two dork-ass Spankoffskis!” Max walked out from behind the bleachers, a mock pout sitting on his lips, “But I was really hoping that Steph was going to make my job a little easier and get rid of the little bitch. Too bad, now it looks like I get to kill two for the price of one!”

“But first,” His hand whipped out unnaturally fast, grabbing hold of Steph and throwing her off to the side, “I’m going to deal with you. You lured me to my death! You betrayed me, you fucking Judas!”

“Your brother’s going to be just fine, Peter.” The nurse looked down at him with sympathetic eyes as he hunched over Ted’s hospital bed in the uncomfortable plastic chair that seemed to be mandatory for some insane reason. “He got lucky and the bullet didn’t hit any major arteries. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. Take a shower, get a change of clothes, we’ll keep an eye on him until you get back.”

“So you do know the Bible!” Oh. So that’s where Grace went.

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

Even the thought of letting Ted out of his sight drenched him with fear, so he squeezed Ted’s hand tighter and said, “No, thank you. I think I’m going to stay here until he wakes up if that’s alright.”

For a brief second, Peter could’ve sworn that he saw a brief flash of annoyance accompanied by a yellow shine in his eyes before it was gone and an understanding grin took its place. It was so convincing that Peter almost started questioning whether he was losing it but, after everything he’d been through recently, he wasn’t going to be taking any chances.

The door swung open and in walked Steph wearing mismatched clothes from the lost and found and trying to dry off her damp hair.

“Hey, Pete.” She said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “He wake up yet?”

His eyes fell back onto his brother. Even asleep he looked exhausted, deep lines worried into his skin that hadn’t been there before. When was the last time he’d gotten some rest?

Peter shook off the question, adding it to the pile of shit he was going to be asking Ted when he woke up.

“No. Not yet.”

She pulled back with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Yeah, well, no offense Pete, but you fucking reek. I left a pile of clothes that I think might fit you on the chair, so please go take a quick shower. I don’t care if all you do is rinse yourself off, you have to do something.”

“But—” He didn’t get very far before Steph gathered his free hand in hers.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to him, okay?” Steph looked him in the eye, “Pete. I won’t even blink until you get back, I promise.”

And, you know what? He believed her.

Peter gathered up the clothes with a grateful smile and a quick glance at Ted who was still lying there, “I swear to God, Ted, if you’re not still here when I come back I am going to climb into that Box and kill you myself.”

The hospital walls were bright and seemingly endless and too close to the labyrinth he’d seen in that thing's eyes, so it was a relief when he turned into the washroom and locked himself into a shower stall.

There was a mirror in there and wow he looked like shit, no wonder people kept telling him to take a shower. But something was off, and as he looked a little closer, Peter realized that his eyes weren’t the usual brown.

Instead, they were a bright yellow.

His reflection grinned at him, and that stink of death roiled over him as it spoke.

“Just you wait, Petey-Pie! Soon, I’ll have you and my precious Teddy Bear back in my collection.” His skin started peeling from his face as his jaw stretched until it dislocated and then kept going until a long blue tongue spilled out, “Oh boy! We’re going to have so much fun.”

And then Peter blinked, and his own pale, terrified expression stared back at him again. Brown eyes and all.

The worst part was that he could still smell it. He must’ve taken the fastest shower of his life, scrubbing himself until he was nearly raw before throwing the clothes onto his still-soaked body and rushing back to Ted’s hospital room.

He crashed through the door, heart pounding, just to see Ted and Steph exactly where he’d left them.

Except, Ted looked over at him with a weak smile and Peter nearly collapsed in relief.

His brother extended an arm in invitation and Peter basically dove into the bed beside him, holding on tight and telling his racing heart to calm the fuck down because Ted was here.

“Hey, Petey.”

Ah, shit. More tears. Because of fucking course there would be.

Peter managed a wobbly grin because everything was finally as it should be and said, “Hey, Ted.”

It was a nice moment until Steph cleared her throat a little pointedly, causing both Spankoffski’s to jolt guiltily.

“Jeez, Pete.” Ted jostled him a bit, mindful of his healing shoulder, “You’re a terrible fucking host. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

Peter went to sit up, and Ted’s arm tightened instinctively before letting him go, even though they didn’t fully break contact. “Yeah. Yeah! Uh, Ted, this is Steph.” Steph waved with a fond smile on her face, “And Steph, this is my brother, Ted.”

Ted reached out with his good hand, “Nice to meet you. Kind of insane that my brother managed to pull someone so far out of his league, but you’ve got a good guy on your hands.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Steph had to raise her voice to be heard over Peter’s groan, “And I know, Mr. Spankoffski, I’m just happy that he decided to give me a chance.”

“Oh God, kid, don’t call me that. My name’s Ted.”

As Peter listened to them talk, he laid his head on his brother’s chest, revelling in them all being alive. As sleep overtook him, the melodic harmonies of Ted’s heartbeat and the clock on the wall settled within him. A promise that they would make it through.

Thump-thump.

Tick. Tock.

[fortunelowtier]

I still 100% unironically wholeheartedly believe that this scuffed ass reality tv show from 2007 where CBS stranded 40 children in the middle of the NM desert a la Lord of the Flies is one of the most genuinely fascinating pieces of TV I've ever watched just because of how ABSURD it is on every level

-Their society is a bizarre Communism/Democracy hybrid whose entire economy is based on the barter system

-There is a set class system everyone is sorted into against their will who each get paid more or less money depending on how high or low they are on the ladder, and at the end of each episode they must compete in competitions to decide who gets to be at the top, with the "strongest" being able to get the esteemed title of "upper class"

-Every time they would complete a challenge, at the very end they were given a choice of 2 things that could be added to the town, to which the leaders of the teams would vote on which to get (For example, in one episode they had to choose between fresh produce or 50 pizzas). One of these things was letters from the children's parents, implying that the adults on site were receiving the mail from these kid's parents and deliberately withholding it from them

-In one episode the district leaders of each of the 4 teams (the classes) go out and find a chest full of buffalo nickels (the town's currency), they bring the chest to the town and naturally, this creates unprecedented inflation near instantly, as there's now a mass amount of currency that suddenly appeared in the economy

-Their entire society existed in relative stability until the moment religion was introduced in the form of various religious texts (Bibles, the Quran, etc), after which the town immediately started to go to shit. The Jewish kids and Christian kids were at each other's throats about which religion was """better""" (because they're children who had religion forced upon them at a young age before they were able to think for themselves but that's an entire can of worms I won't open), while the 1 (one) Hindu kid was trying to keep the peace

-At one point the kids start to crave meat, as their food up to that point was mostly canned goods and various produce, so one of the """eldest""" members of the group, (I say """eldest""" because he was still only like 14 or 15) who had worked as a butchers apprentice, took one of their chickens and lead the kids into the desert to where he then taught them how to decapitate, pluck, drain, and cook a chicken.

-One of the kids later did a Reddit AMA about his experience on the show, where he then disclosed various things that happened outside of the camera such as, but not limited to: Oil burns, a kid drinking bleach, scorpions, venomous snakes, an outbreak of herpes, the lack of showers, the lack of multiple toilets (up until I believe a few weeks in they only had one outhouse), etc etc etc

-The parents of these kids allegedly had to sign a 22 page waiver that was basically CBS going "If ur kids get hurt you can't sue us", specifically noting "acts of god" in the contract of things that they weren't to be held accountable for

-At the end of every week, the 4 leaders got together to choose which person would receive that week's "gold star", a star made out of 20,000 USD of solid gold (around 30k after adjusting for inflation), an unfathomable amount of money to give to kids who likely had no concept as to how much money 20 grand was

-The town used for Bonanza City is actually a ghost town/film set located just 20 miles from Santa Fe used as a filming location for movies like A Million Ways to Die In the West (2014) and The Legend of the Lone Ranger (1981). The reason I bring this up is because it's the same film set in which 14 years later, Alec Baldwin would accidentally discharge a firearm on the set of Rust, resulting in the death of cinematographer Halyna Hutchins

To anyone asking where to watch this, I genuinely don't know. All of the 13 episodes used to be available on YouTube by someone who re-uploaded them in 2010, but the channel was terminated last year. I've heard that there are a few Google Drive folders floating around that have the raw MP4 files and you could watch them that way but you'd probably have to go digging for it

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist       Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little

~

Y/n🍦:

SO basically-

I was in my office when we got attacked,

My whole department started freaking out and running around.

Some dumbasses were even taking the elevators-

*You remember the moment so clearly. There were no big sounds or warnings, one second you were working your boring low-end job, and the next the woman in the cubicle next to you is screaming and pointing outside. Hoards of god knows what the fuck those things were began flying out and it’s like the world froze for a moment. A single moment of paralyzed silence.

And then all hell broke loose.

Some coworkers began hurriedly grabbing their bags, others just booked it straight to the nearest exit. You were on the fourth floor of the building. 

You were impressed with how fast this new group of enhanced individuals showed up but it was no match for the amount of fucking aliens spewing out of a goddamn space hole. One of your coworkers roughly grabbed your shoulder and began pulling you with them towards the stairs. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been stuck unmoving in front of the big glass windows until that moment. 

Your body finally caught up with the terror of what was happening and you began running down the crowded stairs as fast as you could- faster than you felt you’d ever run before.

No- the fastest you’d ever run was when the cops crashed the one college party your roommates had convinced you to go to. The smell of beer and vomit was burning your nose the whole time and you were almost relieved when you heard the sirens- only you weren’t too keen on getting arrested. Your 21st birthday was still two months away.

You supposed you would be running faster now if the sea of bodies wasn’t in your way. Frantic business women and men prevented you from going down the stairs more than two at a time. You contemplated just hopping the railing and falling the last two flights but no- if you sprained your ankles you couldn’t run away from the monsters.

That was when the first blast hit.

The whole building rumbled and screams emitted from both inside and out of the building. You knew it wasn’t your building that was hit- but the building next to you was too close to not do some damage. 

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. This had to be some kind of crazy dream that was a result of those new melatonin gummies you were taking.

But when some random panicked escapee ran pasted you just a little too fast and you banged your head into the wall you knew it wasn’t a dream.

Shit, you probably had a concussion was the only thing you could think as you glared at the back of the fleeing man. If you ever got out of this apocalyptic ass shit you would get revenge on that random white guy in a black suit. Yeah fuck you were never gonna find out who that guy was. If you even made it out of here.

You shook the thought out of your head, a bad idea considering you were already dizzy and disoriented. 

Finally, though, you made it outside, and fuck if it wasn’t worse than it was when you last saw it upstairs.

Fire smoke was sprouting from nearly every building, car alarms and building alarms were blaring so loud you had to cover your ears. God the apocalypse was so not as aesthetic as all the tv shows made it look.

You watched as people screamed and ran in all directions, watched explosions erupt in the sky and an iron man zip past alien ships, and shit was that fucking Thunder!?

Rubble from an explosion nearby flew down towards you and you covered your head. God was this how you were going to die? You stared down at your hands, clean- if not a little calloused from working. Your gaze drifted towards the ground- the granite completely split in most places, ash and concrete littering the streets.

Your eyes were unfocused, and a ringing sound had begun to form in your ears, only occasionally disturbed by someone trying and failing to get a call to go through. Of course, there would be no cell service, you hadn’t even thought of that. You heard the sounds of screams get almost impossibly louder and when you lifted your head you knew why. For whatever beautiful reason, the universe decided a giant ass space worm was exactly what needed to come out of that portal right now. Everybody say “Thank You Universe!”

Your feet were running before your brain could tell them to. Your car, your mind screamed. You’ve got to get to your car.

You made it to your car, luckily still intact, and thank fuck you had your keys in your back pocket because if you didn’t you might have started crying. You touched your hand to your face.

 Oh. 

You already were.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it. You hopped into your car and began fumbling with the keys. Who made it so impossible to put your keys in the ignition when you were panicked and concussed?

It didn’t matter though, because two seconds later a giant ass alien landed directly on your hood. The damage looked deep enough to have crushed your engine. You briefly wondered if your insurance covered alien attacks.

Ugly rat alien decided to stab a spear through your windshield directly into your passenger seat and wow was that a threat or did these aliens have the aim of stormtroopers?

You were already beginning to process your death when five rounds of shots rang out and the beast on top of your car fell flat. Frankly, it was disgusting, and now its weird slimy pigskin body was closer to you than ever.You opened your car door coughing and that’s when you saw her. She glanced at the alien to ensure its death and then began surveying the nearby area, a few people paying her no mind and running right past her.

Good choice, you thought. She looked deadly. Deadly in the most gorgeous way that a woman could look deadly. The kind of look that made you want to become a supervillain just so she could glare at you and point a gun at your head.

It was completely unfair how good she looked considering the circumstances, and not only was she running on the battlefield she seemed to be taking part in it as well. 

Your moment of love at first save was quickly broken, however, as the woman presses a finger to her ear and mumbles a few words before running in the other direction. 

Your thoughts of her are interrupted by chunks of debris falling onto your car, you quickly jumped out of the way but- yeah there was no way insurance was covering that damage.*

You tastefully left out a few of those last thoughts when texting this story to Nat, she didn’t need to think you were a complete weirdo. Only a little one. 

                   Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Yeah so I was close to death

on multiple accounts that night

#almostdiedthreetimes

You watched as the chat bubbles appeared and disappeared numerous times. You remember rendering your therapist speechless when you first told her as well. Although now they had an influx in patients and you were sure even the therapists were seeing therapists at this point. Therapist-seption.

Nat🔪:

So when you said you met an Avenger…

You rolled your eyes. Of course, someone who wears gray to bed would be analytical of your word choices.

Y/n🍦: 

Hey I was one of the first people to ever see

The famous Black Widow in action!

#Ilikedherbeforeitwascool

Nat🔪:

Alright enough with the hashtags.

And they were called the Chitauri 

By the way

Y/n🍦:

Chitauri- Rat alien

Battle of New York- Most traumatizing 

night of my life, literal hell on earth oh my god

Tomato- TomAto

Call ‘em what you want Nat.

You think the specifics matter in that situation?

Cause I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about

Being speciesist while I was running for my life🤠

Nat🔪:

Solid point.

So did insurance ever cover your car?

Y/n🍦:

Fuck no Nat.

This is corporate America

I got a copy-pasted apology email and a very

small amount of compensation money from

The state.

We Love America😍 🦅🇱🇷

Nat🔪:

That’s not an American flag…

Y/n🍦:

Fuck.

Pt7

Just so ya know this- 🇺🇸 is the American flag and this- 🇱🇷 is the Liberian flag!

Anyway, did we enjoy the trauma I wrote? ~Starry

------

Taglist

@romanoffsgal  @natsxwife  @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @moistblobfish 

[lost-girl-2021]

Maybe Tonowari and Ronal adopting Spider modern/human au hc?

Okay, I wrote a little bit and then I also but some headcanons and stuff at the bottom :) lemme know if you want to hear more.

Spider wasn’t a pessimist, he was a realist. He didn’t think of the worst, he just knew that after so long, nothing good would be coming his way. Ten different foster homes in half as many years. He was fourteen and alone.

Norm, his social worker and only actual friend, was overworked and underpaid. He had a lot to deal with and Spider was just a box to check off of his To Do List. He was a good guy and he always made sure Spider was somewhere safe, but as the boy had gotten older, he’d also lost hope alongside Spider. Neither of them thought he’d get adopted. He had two years until he’d be old enough to emancipate himself and Norm knew he was just biding him time.

So, it was weird that he seemed excited about his next placement. Spider had been stuck in a group home for two weeks after his last foster family— the Sully’s —had to suddenly move, leaving the teen behind. They’d been plenty apologetic and he hadn’t even been with them for a full year, so it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. He shouldn’t have been so stupid as to think they’d want to take him with.

Maybe the enthusiasm was Norm trying to cheer his charge up after a shitty month. Maybe he’d finally cracked and was slowly turning into the Joker or Green Goblin or something. He wouldn’t mind a Hulked-out version of his social worker. It’d probably be funny to watch.

They suburb they pulled into was nice. They’d driven further south, towards the state’s coast. It was only three hours away, but it felt like a entirely different world. Ignoring the tourist-traps littering main street and the absurd amount of bikes, it looked peaceful and bright. Norm explained that his newest foster parents ran a fishery and a charter company. Spider didn’t think it was a good fit. He didn’t even know how to swim.

When they stopped in front of the large house in the center of the block, a pair of tall adults were already waiting, sat on the porch in a matching set of white rocking chairs. It was like something out of a TV show, too perfect. The overturned bike on the front lawn helped bring him back to reality. His skateboard was in the trunk of the car, along with his suitcase and a duffel bag of clothes. Lo’ak had insisted that he keep half of the decor from their shared room, even though a lot of it had already been there when he’d arrived.

“How many kids did you say they had?” He asked as Norm put the car in park.

“Two. Aounung and Tsireya. I think he’s sixteen and she’s . . . fifteen? Maybe your age, I can’t remember.”

Neteyam had been sixteen. He wasn’t much of a big brother when it came to Spider, but it wasn’t like he was Spider’s actual younger brother. The thought made his throat feel tight. He opened the car door, swallowing down saliva. First impressions were important and he was about to make a lot of them. New house, new school, same old Spider.

Spider wears shoes a size too big, a habit from childhood. He used to grow too fast as a kid and even though he'd stopped at 5"7, he bought clothes and shoes big just in case.

When he first gets settled, he's kind of wary of the other kids in the house. (No Baby in this AU, because babies are a handful and so are Spiders). I think Tsireya would definitely take him under her wing and try to help him get comfortable and stuff. Set up his room, make sure he's okay with the food and knows where everything is. Despite being a year younger, she's definitely a Big Sister when it come to him.

Aounung kind of ignores him at first, busy with school and learning about his parent's business, intending to take over at some point. But, I think if Spider was getting bullied or something, he'd definitely go into Big Brother mode and that'd kind of spark an interest/empathy.

With the Parents, I think Tonowari would probably be busy working a lot of the time, but he'd make an effort to be there for dinner every night and make sure to check in with each kid before bed. Definitely a gentle giant. I can see Spider being intimidated at first, with the tattoos and Tonowari's sheer size, not to mention he's probably ripped after spending most of his life fishing and swimming. I think the turning point for Spider would be Tonowari driving him to get new shoes or for a doctor's appointment or something one weekend and putting on, like, ABBA or Dolly Parton or something in the car and singing along. He doesn't even need to actually like that type of music, but it's disarming and gets a laugh from Spider. (Also, Tonowari trying to squeeze into a waiting room chair like he isn't 6"7 and shredded).

With Ronal, I can see Spider watching her do one of the other kid's hair and her offering to do his. (In Modern AU's, I think Spider would have long, curly hair like Olan Prenatt from Mid-90s (the guy who played Fuck-Shit). Except, he has no clue how to keep his hair from being a frizzy mess, so he just pulls it back most of the time. And he hesitates, remembering a foster mother once cutting his hair off while he was sleeping (which might have led to him growing it out in the first place) and then deciding to trust her to take care of it, of him.

Spider tries to run away a few months after arriving. He failed a test and got into a fight after school and he's sure he's about to be sent away. So, he decided to leave first. Maybe, it would be easier that way. Hurt less. (It doesn't.)

Aounung ends up finding him crying on the beach at like midnight and flat-out carries him home, refusing to let him down. Because, they were scared, dammit.

This is all I have so far for a modern AU, but lmk if you want to hear more! Also, guess who just started a Medical Assistant program online? ME. If anyone is in the medical field and has any tips, I'd greatly appreciate it!

[evilwickedme]

I'm currently reading yj98 and slowly collecting robin, robin ii, and robin 93, and I have the first three volumes of Nightwing... 95? I don't remember the year right now but the original miniseries + ongoing, so like, very seriously trying to catch up on the 90s - it just seems like the most interesting period in the batfamily?? Even though my fav Jason isn't there. I know that Helena was a big part of the batfam at the time and I haven't read a single issue with her, plus no man's land seems like a big deal (plus it's Cass's introduction?? I think??) and the only thing I've read of that is the yj tie in (which was a lot of fun and I get the impression not an accurate representation of nml's tone). I'm also reading a bunch of older marvel stuff right now so like, obviously all of this is going to happen at whatever pace I get to it, but I'm working really hard at it jstjsfhetjta

Any other major characters I probably don't know? I've mostly been focusing on Tim and Dick's supporting casts and less Bruce himself

What does Alfred call Cass? Do you know anything about their relationship?

First of all, they are HILARIOUS together. Very incompatible ways of communicating affection and priorities. Amuses me endlessly.

Alfred calls her 'Miss Cassandra', if I'm remembering correctly. That's simple enough to answer. But their relationship!

-

So Alfred is this reserved old man who shows affection through acts of service, and prefers it returned through restrained verbal affirmation ('thank yous'). Cassandra is a half-feral street kid who DOES NOT VALUE THINGS, and both shows and receives affection through physical contact and/or large body language.

They're both smart enough to understand that they're missing a lot, but they just don't GET each other.

Alfred invisibly cleans Cass' space, provides her with clothing and food, and otherwise attends to every comfort he can think of (including TRAVELING TO BLÜDHAVEN TO DO SO REGULARLY while she was living there). Cass doesn't notice or care about clean spaces, and just assumes food and clothing exist in a ready state in houses.

He obviously doesn't want hugs or shoulder punches. All his emotions are bottled up. He disapproves of costumes in the Manor; and, like Babs, thinks The Mission is secondary to living. From her point-of-view, he doesn't really VALUE her.

Meanwhile, Cass never thanks him for his work. She rarely tries to make things easier for him, or adapt her behaviour to fit her context. She doesn't request physical contact, so neither gets the chance to find something that works for them. His dry humour goes completely over her head, so both attempts to bond, and to express his desire for things to change, are missed. She obviously doesn't care that much about him.

-

They like each other.

Alfred snarks at her pretty frequently. She blithely takes him seriously.

They bond over how OBLIVIOUS strangers are. (Especially when people just don't notice anything weird about her. They both find that funny.)

They aren't HURT by the other's behaviour. But they both exist in the other's blind spot, and have missed most of the attempts to bond. They're okay with the relationship they have, but both think it's like this because that's what the other wants.

(This is all based off of memories that are a dozen years old. I mostly remember stuff after Steph's death, when Cass was in Blühaven. Before then she lived either with Babs, or in her own Batcave, and I can't remember them interacting. Though they had a good scene in the Gotham Knights issue where a social worker is investigating Bruce about Jason's death. Such a good issue. Anyways, they may have grown closer in things like Gates Of Gotham, which I've only skimmed.)

[tmntheadcanons]

tmnt 2003 Raphael headcanons

Raph has one specific spot in the living room that has just become his spot. I feel like it would be an armchair or something because he's such an old man. He's got an unspoken claim on it. Like an old recliner they found at the junkyard that's now raph's old man chair. It's even got a butt indent.

He's bad at math

He gets very vocally invested in movies and tv shows like he's the kind of person to gasp and yell at the tv in disbelief when he's watching something. And he'll do this with everything even if it seems like he's not invested. Like Mikey will be watching something and Raph will be like wow that's so dumb and go like workout or something but if it sounds like something juicy is happening on screen he'll be like 👀

And every time he walks by he'll be like wait what's happening? why is she mad at him? who's that guy?

He's not super into sweets but he loves spicy snacks like he'll absolutely demolish a jar of spicy peanuts. He also douses everything in hot sauce like Mikey will make eggs in the morning and hell dump an absurd amount of hot sauce on it.

Splinter got him into knitting as a calming technique for when he's feeling angry and he kinda just got into it and knits just for fun. Like they have a big blanket for the couch that he knitted.

He's probably the most physically affectionate except for maybe Mikey. But he's always leaning on one of his brothers or like constant arm and shoulder pats when he's talking to them. He'll walk by and just flick mikey's head as a form of endearment.

Also I saw this in another post I can't find but he talks with his hands

Just overall he's very expressive like you never wonder what Raph is thinking because you can always tell

He's a bad driver like there's a reason Donnie usually drives. Like he's okay at actually maneuvering but he drives like a maniac and he can't park. He's better at a bike.

Animal whisperer pets love him

[do-you-have-a-flag]

was watching late night with the devil yesterday and got so annoyed by the use of ai interstitials

is that supposed to be a pumpkin or a wood carving of an owl? a painting?

i was like okay, lets see what i can throw together in an hour as a non professional (who doesn't work in this style) without diverging too much from what they were going for (as i assume any artist they hire would be able to do a more polished job than me in a similarly short amount of time)

imagine how good it would look if i were working with the same graphic assets or put more time in or a more established artist made it or if an artist who could make a real 3d object irl or in blender were doing this

ultimately it's not just that at the moment a lot of ai art is actively worse than a real person. it's that there is no intentionality behind the placement of pixels, that the image generation relies on art theft where even if you asked you have no way of finding out exactly what was taken from, and that opportunities for real people are being taken away which is absurd in a creative and collaborative medium like film especially cause why make films if not to be creative with other people why engage with art if not to have someone tell you a story what benefit is there from the computer element if it is substituted in to such a large extent.

and yes the 3 interstitials that only show up for seconds a handful of times IS to a large extent not in screentime but because the filmmakers are paying homage to tv station custom images, which would have used a mix of original work and stock resources, which would mean either hours of original work or the reuse of art which was made decades sometimes even centuries before and lives on in the public domain, which would have been put togethere for only a few seconds of screentime a year. the ephemera of station idents is so cool because artists and graphic designers make these cohesive bits of corporate art that become so familiar to so many households yet are almost never noticed. that are so powerfully nostalgic they were deliberately included in the world building and atmosphere of this film

so what is the benefit that it's ai? because it's fast? (irrelevant to the audience and they had to manually tweak the results so the time saved was negligible) it's cheap? (irrelevant to the film and the audience) it's an empty use of corner cutting creatively that is NOTICABLE and will stay noticeable since it's unlikely to be updated with a better rendering. a corner they didn't cut with any of the other elements of the film, so it stands out even more starkly.