#Like off my head I can think of one singular thing that I think they're wrong on and it's literally just like. the Buffsuki meme

[anothermonikan]

There’s this TikTok account who’s whole gimmick is like, posting DDLC facts everyday until there’s a ‘new DDLC game’, and people are so mean about the technicalities of that in the comments, they’ve explained countless time that they mean Project Libitina, and they still keep getting comments by people who think they���re being smart by pointing out that there’s not gonna be another DDLC game, like. They are having fun posting about a media they like. And also people are like ‘Your gonna run out of facts DDLC isn’t a big game’ which I’m like. Wrong. X. Buzzer. I still learn new things about DDLC and I’ve been an active fan of the game since December 2017

[sysig]

Sizing chart of cute: One Size Fits All (Patreon)

[sainns]

PINING.

𝓢. ㅤㅤthings they do to show that they like you.

OT7ㅤ✶ ㅤ (⠀gnreader⠀) . . . friend!enhypen, pre relationship, this is a revamped post from when i first started my account, sunoo's the craziest one here for sure, a singular death joke, not proofread so pls ignore typos.ㅤ817 words

lee heeseung refuses to let you carry anything. he’s made it a habit of grabbing anything that you’re holding and carrying it himself. whether it be shopping bags, your purse, a stuffed animal that he won for you, or groceries, he will be carrying it all. sure, it may be a little hard carrying 15 different bags of groceries up to your apartment but he doesn't mind. even as you complain, saying that you feel bad that he has to carry everything when you can help, he'll just laugh you off, asking you to let him do this for you. you do a lot for him (unbeknownst to you) and this is the least he can do.

park jongseong asks for your opinion on almost everything he does. he'll ask you if he should buy this shirt or that one, watch looks better, what he should eat. it’s like he lost all ability make choices for himself after he gained feelings for you, only trusting your opinion. maybe it's because he wants to have things that you like, who knows. what everyone does know is that the contanst buzzing coming from your phone? jay. he's most definitely texting you about whatever it is he feigns needing help choosing, but he can't help it if your opinion is the only one that matters to him.

sim jaeyun loves to go shopping with you; he literally begs to be able go even if you tell him that you're just going to window shop. not to mention the fact that he is so serious about shopping; he’ll put his phone on do not disturb, giving you his full attention. when you ask him was store he wants to go to he'll shake his head, claming that this trip is for you and if he reall needs something then he can go on his own time. he always ends up buying your stuff for you, waving you off as he gives the cashier his money.

park sunghoon calls you every single night just so that he can fall asleep to your voice. in the beginning he asks you about your day, listening intently and asking follow up questions. he wants to hear your voice for as long as possible, especially when he went the whole day without talking to you. when you ask about his day, though, he gives you the most basic answer possible and moves the conversation back to you. and every morning, without fail, he claims that he didn't mean to fall asleep but your voice is way too soothing for your own good. you figure that he's not telling the full truth after you hear him say goodnight and he doesn't hang up the phone.

kim seonwoo takes more pictures of you than he does of himself. you swear when you caught a glipse of his gallery you saw an album named 'yn' that featured over seven thousand photos of you. which yes, you saw correctly, he has a very full folder full of pictutes of you. most of them aren't even good but he would rather die than delete the ten, nearly identical, photos of you laughing or the blurry video he got while you were ugly crying because of some movie. he also uses them to tease you—laughing when you tell him to delete it. yeah.. he's almost all out of storage, at this point he's going to buy a burner phone just for photos of you.

yang jungwon loves to texts you updates about his day. if you think jay texts you a lot, oh man, jungwon beats him by twenty miles. he'll tell you his plans who they're with, what he's planning on eating, the cute cat family he saw on the street (pictures included). this man tells you everything, every thought he has it feels like. honestly, he only bothers going out so that he has an excuse to text you, it makes him smile brightly at his phone when he sees your responses. when you start sending him updates about your day? he gets so happy, it's his favorite part of the day to hear from you now, nothing else could ever compare.

nishimura riki does not know what personal space is. he's always touching you in some way, even if it's subtle, like your shoulders pressing together when you're sitting on the couch, watching a movie. when you walk somewhere together, you have to push him away multiple times because he's practically on top of you with how close he is. when you're hanging out with friends, he tends to wrao an arm around your shoulder or lean his head against yours. your friends tease him for it, saying that he's practically apart of you now. he glares at them playfully, gripping your hand in his as he pulls you away (he just really wants to be alone with you).

[grnpurplgrmln]

with this new version of bluza that we got, i feel like i have to talk about the lyric "da se nagledam lepote te" (and also maybe the entirety of the last verse bc it drives me crazy)

for starters, it is such a romantic lyric i CANNOT get over it

no english translation can do it justice, the closest i can think of off the top of my head is "so i can soak up that beauty", but even that's not quite right

nagledati is a very specific type of verb (idk what the actual name for it would be cause i don't think it's a svršeni verb?? could be wrong idk grammar was never my strong suit)

it comes from the verb gledati (to look) and the prefix na-

the prefix na- gives it a sort of full quality. najesti (na- + jesti (to eat)) would mean that you've eaten so much that you're now full and can't eat anymore. nahodati (na- + hodati (to walk)) would mean that you've walked so much that you're now tired and can't walk anymore etc etc.

now, nagledati, in the context of looking at the person you're in love with, specifically their beauty AND the additional context that you're going to have to be away from them, for an undetermined amount of time?

looking at your lover so closely and so focused, so you can remember their every wrinkle, every blemish, every freckle, every twinkle in their eyes as they stare at you with the same love you feel for them, just in case you start to miss them, because you know you will, your heart would never let you fool yourself into thinking otherwise?

devastating, i want more of it

as i've stated earlier, this whole ending verse just trips me up so bad, in the best way possible

"ne palite još svetla" "don't turn on the lights yet"

"još samo jedan tren" "just one more moment"

"da se nagledam lepote te" "so i can really take in that beauty"

"ne palite još svetla" "don't turn on the lights yet"

"ne prizivajte dan" "don't summon the day"

"spasite me, smislite neki plan" "save me, think up some plan"

"ako svane sunce" "if the sun rises"

"ostat ću sam" "i'll be left alone"

it's so tragically romantic that it makes my heart break.

one thing i noticed here though, are the lyrics "ne palite još svetla" and "spasite me, smislite neki plan" mostly because they're in plural

now, i think it's probably just because that's the closest serbian has to gender neutral pronouns*, but i also think it's interesting to think of bojan, as the "protagonist" of the song, pleading the world to stop so he could get more time with his lover, a moment of selfishness

and the way the rest of the song sets up this almost domestic feeling "soba nam je mala"/"our room is small", which could also be translated to "the room is too small for us" as in "this room is far too small for our love, to handle us"

and i just... how can you not love this song...

additional notes:

* i'm an idiot, i just remembered that singular imperative exists and is also gender neutral so the lyric could have been "spasi me, smisli neki plan" but it's not so the whole protagonist talking to the world stuff might have been the intended purpose

[midsummer-semantics]

wiggly wednesday 🪱

Okay sure, this sounds fun. I was tagged by @medusapelagia to share a brainworm/headcanon, and I've been trying to get one to develop more fully so here we go.

Today, I'm thinking about...

Steve and Eddie going through some of Eddie's old things as they pack up to move into their own place. Nancy and Robin are there to help even though that mostly consists of Robin picking through already-packed boxes because she keeps getting distracted by all of the things she finds.

Steve finds what looks to be a really old photo album, the sticky pages holding the photos down yellow with age.

"Oh, shit," Eddie says, taking it from him to flip through. "I haven't seen this in ages. I was sure it was lost when all the shit went down."

"Oh my god, please tell me there's embarrassing baby pictures of you in there," Robin grins, trying to snatch it away.

Eddie holds it out of reach, nearly throwing it as Robin tries to tackle him for it.

"Jesus Christ! I'll show you, just keep your insane paws to yourself!" Eddie gripes.

Steve scoots in closer while Robin and Nancy crowd in on his other side, all wanting a closer look.

There's not many pictures in it and most are grainy and out of focus, black and white and hard to distinguish. But there's a few of a baby with an unmistakeable crop of riotous curls.

"Holy shit, you were so cute," Steve coos, running a finger along the 2D cheek of one photo.

"Excuse you, Harrington, but I'm still cute," Eddie snarks, flipping to the next page.

There's one photo of a young man holding baby Eddie, dark curls so similar to his own atop his head. The photo looks to have been torn down the middle, the right side pressed right against baby Eddie's back, like whoever was on the other side was better left out of the picture long term.

"Huh," Steve hums. "It never occurred to me that I had no idea what your dad looks like."

"And for good reason, babe," Eddie says, fighting not to rip the photo out and burn it. "Thankfully all I got from him was his hair and penchant for hot wiring. Everything else I got from my mom I guess."

"You guess?" Nancy asks.

Eddie nods. "She died when I was a baby and the old man kind of went off the rails after. I suspect this—" he runs a finger along the jagged edge of the photo in the book, "is his handy work."

"That's a shame," Steve says softly. He lifts the plastic covering the photo and peels it off the sticky backing, holding it up to his face to get a closer look — his eye sight is pretty back after so many concussions after all.

"Ya know, if his hair was a little longer, like mullet style, he'd almost look like a dark-haired Billy Hargrove," Steve points out.

Robin snatches the photo out of his hand, holding it out stretched like she can see it better that way instead. "Oh, shit. You're right. That's so weird."

Eddie snatches it back, top lip curled in disgust. "I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but how fucking dare you in any way compare my gorgeous existence to that guy."

Steve snickers and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek. "I'm sorry, babe. You're right."

The photo gets tucked back into its place and they keep flipping through the book. There's more of Eddie as an infant, a few more of his dad, even a couple of a young Wayne in his military uniform holding a toddler Eddie by his arms as he jumps up, legs gangly and wild. Any photo that might have contained Eddie's mom is ripped, none of them cleanly, and there's only the occasional hand or blur of dark hair. Even still, it does stop happening once Eddie's about six months old.

"Wow. So you really don't know what your mom looks like?" Nancy asks finally as they're setting the photo album in a box.

"Oh no I do," Eddie says. "I have one singular picture of her from right after I was born. Wayne saved it for me."

"Oooooo can we see?" Robin pipes in. Eddie shrugs, getting up to dig through a shoebox that Steve's seen before but somehow managed to avoid snooping through — not that he didn't think about it all the time for the last year they've been together.

He comes back with a photo, plopping back into his spot while his friends and boyfriend crowd around him once more.

It's dead silent for several minutes, all of them staring at the picture. Eddie always figured his uncle was on to something when he said Eddie looked more like his mom, but now that he's about her age when this photo was taken, he thinks he can really see it.

On his left, Steve is trying to process exactly what he's looking at. Sure, the woman in the photo looks like she has the same dark hair that Eddie does, though it's a lot less curly, but aside from the hair and the tired look on her face, she could be a dead ringer for —

"Either Mrs. Wheeler has a doppleganger, or a secret twin we don't know about," he says.

He glances at Robin for a second before looking at Eddie and Nancy. They're heads are bowed over the photo, wearing matching expressions of wide-eyed shock.

Wait.

Matching.

Oh shit.

"Eddie," Robin says carefully. "What's your mom's name?"

His jaw opens and closes a few times before he croaks out, "Elizabeth, but Wayne said she only ever went by—"

"Her middle name?" Nancy asks, the fear of knowing the answer obvious in the wobble of her voice.

Eddie flips the photo over to look at the names and date written on the back. He's looked at it a million times, tracing her loopy handwriting so much over the years that it's slightly smudged, but still legible.

Karen Elizabeth Harvey + Edward Wayne Munson, November 1965

"Oh shit."

——————————————

no-pressure tags if anyone also wants to share a brainworm: @tedewitt @hornedqueenofhell @malikat24601 @spectrum-spectre

[moodymisty]

Hey.

Totally understand if you don’t want to make a part two, but something that’s been living rent free in my head since I read the Lion’el painting fic you wrote is what would happen if his lover potentially retuned somehow? Maybe she’d been on a ship that experienced warp shenanigans so it’s only been a few years since she disappeared from her pov, how he’d react to her return and how she’d handle the RADICAL changes to the imperium.

Preferred sfw but I don’t really mind

Totally fine if you don’t want to do a part two but I did want to express how much I loved the fic and make the request now that they’re open.

PS I love all your stuff so much

- 🍀

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Sequel to this request. You will probably need to read that to understand most of what happens here.

Author's note: Hey friend! Here's a little continuation of that fic, I hope you enjoy it <3

Relationships: Lion'el Jonson/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really

Lion'el is disturbed from his what can only be described as meditation with the harsh slamming of ceramite boots on flooring, up until the door behind him is thrown open. LIon'el doesn't move as they force their way into the small room, his hands still on his thighs.

"Father!" They even forgo the proper respects, though he ignores it. He doesn't however, ignore their next words.

"She is awake!"

Lion'el's eyes snap open, and he's up to his feet in moments, pushing past his men with little regard. He knows they're following, though he couldn't care less if they did.

He only cares about one thing now.

Lion'el had been hesitant to tell any of his these Dark Angels about you, since waking. They had never even known he had a wife, only that singular relic had even clued them into the fact that he had anyone, besides his legion. The entire time they'd never known that mysterious woman had been beneath their feet; Much like himself, in a way.

It seemed whatever had cast him into an endless slumber had did to you much the same, not many years later. You'd commanded his men briefly in his stead, but one day, you fell the same as him. He'd never known you were so close until recently. He'd thought you dead and gone since he'd awoken.

He hasn't seen you awake since those days just after the Heresy, and only recently when you were still asleep; Now here you are, groggy and eyes wet, trying to pull your arm away from a concerned medicae. You stop however, once you catch sight of him.

"Lion?"

Your voice is hoarse, like a gravely whisper, you look at him like you have trouble thinking he's real. Perhaps he looks too different for you to instantly recognize him. He knows his beard is rougher, face is harsher. But his armor is almost the exact same.

He walks closer. Past his sons who have maintained a cautious barrier; They know little about you. He pushes through them despite complaints and reaches your side, where your legs dangle off the edge of a stone slab his sons had put you on ten thousand years ago.

His hands reach to cup your face, and your own grasp his armor, desperately trying to pull him into a hug. He allows it, feeling your tears on the skin of his neck.

He can see the look of confusion in his geneson's eyes. How they all look at him displaying such weakness. He knows how far gone down the path they've gone, how his words have been twisted and warped beyond even what he thought was reasonable.

You pull away from his neck but he still feels your small hands against the nape of his neck, weaving into his hair.

"Lion, what's happened? The last I remember, Horus and Lorgar had-" He quiets you quickly.

"I will explain everything to you." He turns to the medicae who is still hovering close by, but hasn't been able to continue his duty since being interrupted.

"How is she," Lion'el speaks bluntly. It takes the man a moment to regain movement of his tongue.

"She appears normal on every scan, considering all that has happened."

With that reassurance Lion'el goes to pick you up, carrying you as close to bridal style as he can given your difference in size. When he turns to take you away however, Azrael comes into view with his squad shortly behind him.

"Father!"

Lion'el had confessed to your existance once he'd visited you and noticed you shift in your sleep. He'd sent guards to watch you as you- at the time he had thought hopefully- began to wake, and Azrael had to then be let in on the secret that had been lost for ten thousand years. Azrael as he expected acted with suspicion, though had held back his thoughts at the time. Now he seems to decide not to.

He doesn't need to say a single word, the way the astartes' hand flinches tells Lion'el everything he needs to know about what him and his squad are thinking.

Lion'el looks towards his geneson with nothing but coldness.

"If your hand moves closer to the pommel of your chainsword I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand."

Azrael gawks at him like he's offended.

"Father, we should be cautious, you don't know what kind of warp trickery has-" Lion'el stands straighter, still holding you in your arms. You're drowsy, but still well aware of the standoff that is happening as you grasp his armor for stability.

"She is my wife. She is the legion mother of Dark Angels from before and after the Heresy, and she commanded your ancestors when I fell. I do not need you to tell me what I see."

Lion'el walks forward and his men give way to him, allowing their genefather to pass. He can feel Azrael's displeasure, but he doesn't care.

He walks away from them all, and they wisely choose not to follow.

"Lion, How long have I been asleep? All of your men, you..." You look around the halls as he walks. "Everything look so different."

Lion'el is silent for a moment, until he returns to his quarters and gently sits you down on his own bed. One of his gauntlets comes to rest on the nook between your shoulder and neck, awkward as he always was but reassuring.

"The same illness that took me, it took you as well." You look exactly how he remembers you, it's like not a day has passed. Since waking he's blocked out those detailed memories of you; The feeling of your skin and gentle look in your eyes. They hurt to remember, but now that he has them back he doesn't know if he could do that again.

"You've been asleep for ten thousand years. Same as I."

Your face is frozen in a confused shock, your breath quickens, though at some point you simply accept it. Or perhaps stow the feelings away to eventually explode when your brain isn’t so and confused.

Your hand pulls to try and bring him closer, and he puts a gauntlet in your lap for you to grip as a compromise. Your small hands wrap around his fingers, squeezing to reassure yourself as you talk.

"I missed you. Being with your legion alone, I don't know how to describe how it felt." You weren't meant to do such a thing, lead an army, and Lion'el laments having to put it on you. He's sure you did well in your time, what short amount of it there was.

"Are you tired?" He asks, and you uncharacteristically let out a laugh.

"Not to be rude, but I think I've had quite enough of that for a few lifetimes, apparently." Lion'el doesn't smile, but his face does soften.

Finally alone, he also leans in to take a gentle kiss from you, your soft lips on his own as his beard scratches your skin. It feels just the same as he remembered.

"Then come with me. I'll show you what else you have missed."

[indecenthoney]

What's Mine is Mine

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

I've learned over the years that people will interact with you whether you like it or not. And along the way, those people will hang around you. But my type of lady wouldn't quite agree with that. I love possessive partners! It can be a kind of hurdle to make them feel better after not giving them the attention they need. In some cases, they can completely shut off or be hostile.

"Just a little longer, okay? I'm still trying to catch up with some old friends... It's not like that... They're just old friends that I met a couple of years ago... They've been nice to me ever since... Okay, not that kind of nice... Dude c'mon... There's nothing to be jealous about... Just five more minutes? Okay? Thank you..."

She really is cute when she's jealous. I sometimes find her gripping at my clothes or staring my friends down. She usually has no problem with my guy friends. I guess it's the girls who she deems as threats. I do keep telling her that I have eyes for her, but even then words can only do so much. She can get a bit antsy if I take too long. She's like a puppy with separation anxiety.

"H-hey... What is it? Five minutes? Have you really been counting? Okay okay... Stop pulling on my shirt... Sorry, I'm gonna have to catch up with you another time... Nice seeing you though! Okay I'm coming I'm coming! Just stop pulling on the shirt... Okay... What? That was really not cool, dude... You know I only have eyes for you... and where even are we-"

She pulled me into a kiss. A needy anxious mess that didn't know what to do with herself. On the verge of tears, trying to get rid of that sickly jealous feeling. I embraced her even tighter and reciprocated that kiss. Shortly pulling back and seeing her entire body tremble. She didn't know what to say or what to do to feel better. She felt bad for being like this, but she couldn't help it. I smiled and carried her into the nearest bathroom. Going into an empty stall and placing her onto my lap. Taking off her shorts and spreading her legs open for me. I reach around to finger her from the back. Gently teasing the opening, groping her tits, biting her ear, overwhelming her senses. I didn't want her to think. Not a single thought in that spiraled mind.

"This what you wanted, no? Why fight it now? Because they'll hear you? Well, that all depends on you, doesn't it? Hahaha... Do your best, okay sweetie? Such a good girl... That's it... Cover your mouth... One finger should do for now, yeah? Your favorite middle finger... Fucking you silly... Making you into a drippy little mess... Keep those legs open, sweetheart... I'm not done yet..."

Every touch made her shake, she didn't even have a say on what she wanted done to her. My left arm curled around her like a chokehold. My right hand pumping into her; penetrating her whilst slapping her needy little cunt. My mouth attached to her ear leaving bite marks and licks that would send her into subspace in an instant. It would have been nice to keep going, but people walked in on us.

"Shhhh... They'll hear us, you know? Make sure to keep that pretty mouth shut, yeah? Stop? Hell no... You've been jealous all day... I wanna make my little princess feel better... Plus it'd be a mean thing to stop now... I know you're about to cum... You're already so tight around my fingers... Just a little more... I'll give you all the attention you want back home..."

A singular door separated us from them. Did that stop me? Of course not. I fingered her slowly. Ever so often gliding my finger against her clit. I sped up my hands causing her eyes to roll backwards from the immense pleasure. She squirted against the door of the stall. Shaking and cumming within my embrace. A little worn out but she felt better. I placed her down on the seat to take my cock out. Grabbing her head to fulfill my own selfish desires. Fucking into her mouth allowing her to take the full length of my cock slowly. Taking my time as others were slowly filling the room. Ignorant of what was actually going on in the stall. As I got closer, I pulled her tongue out. Jerking my load onto her. She happily sucked my fingers and the cum.

She really is a possessive one. Not a single drop of cum wasted.

I love her.

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

Be quiet,

Honey

[alwaysonf1]

lewis is doing what?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: This is my first F1 fic, which makes me nervous so why not start with a series.

Many Drive to Survive haters like to pretend everything that comes from the show and what it’s about are beneath them. That they couldn’t possibly care, and that the only important thing is the race on Sunday. And yet the day after the latest season drops you can find them amongst the chaos trying to figure out what the hell were all those hints about a new form of content that F1 plans to release. 

Interwoven with the usual storylines and mild dramatics there was a lot of talk about how drivers show their families the support they’re given. How they show up for them in their careers and bits of their lives. It was weird at first, but then it sent off alarm bells when an almost fourth wall breaking moment happened where the Netflix team was blatantly dismissed. 

“I think we have this one Netflix, but thanks for the help.” Those were the exact words spoken by the head of marketing as she closed the door to a room where you get a glimpse of team paraphernalia but see no faces. 

Every social platform that you can find an F1 fan on has it trending and the conversations (and screams into the void) are fast paced. But Twitter is where the real unhinged and brain cell losing behavior is happening. 

And the most accurate guessing.

Almost everyone within the community is discussing what that snippet could mean. Is it the end of DTS as they know it? The end of it completely? Are F1 and Netflix severing ties? Will F1 be taking over? Is this some little game they're playing with their viewers to keep them tuned in? Is it something completely different? What the actual fuck is going on?

In the middle of those questions are those who think themselves a genius or are delusional enough that they can’t help but form some wild ideas of what’s to come.

Someone must be retiring. Multiple people are retiring. There’s going to be a reality show ala Keeping Up with the Verstappens, where everyone learns that Max’s little trauma dumpy memories with Jos are just the surface level of how insane that man is. Someone is getting married. Someone is getting married to another driver. A nepo baby is going to become the “voice of the fandom” and host a show about the drivers during race weekends and it’s going to be all the wrong things. A dating show for all the singles. A behind the scenes at the lives of drivers and their families, but like Family Feud. And the penultimate dude bro dream of them getting to spend the season hanging out with drivers and get confirmation that their toxic thoughts that alienate most of the fan base is true.

After about twenty-four hours it all dies down. Everyone is still wondering, but they don’t feel like they’re losing their minds while they try to be the one who can say they were right when they news drops.

As if timed, the second that F1 drops in trends the F1 admin drops a graphic with the faces of six people who are clearly positioned like the thinking face emoji on every platform that they use. In the captions it says: Week in the Life - Sibling Edition.

If Twitter was home to the first wave of screaming, it belongs to Tumblr the second go round. Everyone is so excited for the content that someone must have thrown up from how aggressively happy they feel. Everyone is talking about who they want it to be and what content they’d love to see from which sibling. Those who make gifs are especially excited to get everything they can, though they won’t be outdone by those whose brains and fingers will be entities on their own once they get hold of a singular moment that will inspire the fic of everyone’s dreams.

Those who always have something negative to say are there as usual, but they aren’t as loud or upset as they often are. Being nosy doesn’t stop just because you want to pretend that you only care about the race, as if someone doesn’t have a file of screenshots from all the times, they’ve attacked the character of a driver for something not race related at all.

The reaction to this is the kind that instills faith in what is being done. The kind of thing that tells all the upper management who didn’t like it that it was a good idea, but also puts a certain bit of weight on the content team. They need this to deliver. Need to keep the hype, especially since the first episode doesn’t drop until the start of December and they’ve already recorded half the series so a failure could stop the rest.

So once the Singapore GP ends, Daniel Ricciardo’s face is no longer gray. You get to see that goofy smile and wink. You’d think they told everyone he was getting a permanent seat with a three year contract with the reception to it.

It’s Charles Leclerc for Japan. 

Lance Stroll for Qatar.

Carlos Sainz for COTA.

Alex Albon for Mexico.

And coming off his first P1 of the season, Lewis Hamilton for Brazil.

For the next week or so if a tweet isn’t about excitement, disdain, or shock in regard to this new F1 exclusive content, it has a certain main character at its center.

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

Okay, no, y'know what? I've made a post about this before, but it's making me mad again and I think this bears repeating: the scene leading up to Stayed Gone is NOT proof that Vox is just as bad to Val as Val is to him, and claiming that it is plays into very real misconceptions about abuse. We don't know everything about their relationship, but THAT SCENE SPECIFICALLY features EXCLUSIVELY Val as the aggressor. Yes, Vox yells at Val, but he doesn't throw anything. Yes, he manipulates Val, but hE'S DOING IT TO STOP HIM FROM SHOOTING UP A GODDAMN BUILDING I THINK THAT'S A PRETTY GOOD FUCKIN REASON!!!!!!!! The only thing Vox does in that scene that I would consider a genuine red flag is grabbing and throwing Val after Val brings up Alastor. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING ELSE he does is in response to something Val did. In fact, how about I give a play by play of the scene???

Vox enters Val's room to get him to stop breaking Velvette's shit

Val starts yelling at Vox

Val throws a glass directly at Vox's head, which Vox casually dodges

Val continues yelling

Val breaks Vox's phone

Val starts threatening to shoot up the hotel

Vox tells him to stop, but Val doesn't listen

Vox yells in Val's face to get his attention and then manipulates him into not shooting up a building

Vox tells Val he can shoot the lowest earners

Val brings up Alastor to intentionally piss off Vox

Vox grabs Val and throws him because Val didn't tell him where Alastor is sooner

The two watch the hotel

Val gets mad at Vox for not paying attention to him

Val starts taunting Vox about Alastor

Vox gets mad at Val for taunting him

Valentino is ABSOLUTELY in the wrong here!!!! I'm sorry he just fuckin is!!!! This is not mutual abuse like so many people love to say, this is Vox reacting apropriately to some really fucking awful behavior from his partner. The one, singular instance of Vox being abusive is immediately followed up by Val CONTINUING TO MAKE HIM ANGRIER BECAUSE HE THINKS IT'S FUNNY. Just because Vox isn't taking the abuse lying down doesn't mean it isn't still abuse oh my GOD- yes, Vox grabbing Val because Val didn't tell him about Alastor is bad. No matter how angry you are, you shouldn't throw your partner. I am not trying to excuse that one singular thing. That was a shitty thing to do. But everything else Vox does in this scene is justifiable. Fighting back against someone who is endangering both you and themself isn't abuse, and people claiming that it is can be seriously damaging to victims. Using this scene as proof of StaticMoth being equally toxic is borderline victim blaming. I'm sorry it just is.

Aaaaaaand just to reiterate because I don't feel like arguing in the comments; I am talking EXCLUSIVELY about this one scene. I am not saying you can't ship StaticMoth, and I am not saying that Vox is 100% exclusively a victim in their relationship. We don't know enough about their dynamic to tell. What I AM saying is that this scene isn't the slam dunk for mutually toxic StaticMoth that everybody seems to think it is, and continuing to claim that perpetuates some legitimately harmful mindsets. I try not to get this serious with my Hazbin analysis, I really, truly do, because these characters aren't real people and getting upset over how they're being treated is pointless because they have no feelings. I'm only making this post because the mindset a lot of people seem to have regarding this scene is one that can ALSO lead to problems for real people. It's the mindset that leads to people not taking victims seriously if they fight back, the mindset that makes it harder for real people suffering real abuse to come forward. If you want a more in-depth look into why exactly this is harmful, I highly, HIGHLY recommend Princess Weekes' video on mutual abuse. It's very well researched and made by somebody with a lot more experience writing these types of breakdowns then I have.

In conclusion: STOP USING THIS SCENE AS PROOF STATICMOTH IS MUTUALLY TOXIC PLEASE I AM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU S T O P -

[genericpuff]

Since you have mentioned your own original webcomic has time travel, do you have any advice for people who want to make comics or simply write stories that deal with time travel?

Could be any kind of time travel, like time loops, characters traveling to the past/future, dealing with paradoxes, etc.

Short answer: don't LOL

Long answer: Obviously if you wanna tackle time travel, go for it, but the first and most important rule of any time travel is to establish your rules. How does the time travel work? And how will you commit to consistency?

Some basic time travel rule structures include:

Clone travelling - This is the most common form of time travel that's used the most. When you go back in time, your past self is present alongside your present self. Examples include Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Doctor Who, and Austin Powers.

Singular consciousness travelling - This is one I've only seen used a couple of times, and the only one I can think of off the top of my head is Life is Strange, but what I like to call 'singular consciousness travelling' is the form of time travel where instead of travelling to a point in the past, you return to a version of your past self, fully aware of the future that awaits you but 'stuck' within that past to live out the timeline in real time again. Though it's not as commonly used, it's one that will typically present less paradoxes as there are less moving parts to worry about. Prophecy storylines also use a similar philosophy to this, albeit without the literal time travel and more so 'time travel' via premonition (could we call Raven from That's So Raven a time traveller?)

Loops - This is a form of time travelling seen in media such as Groundhog Day, where a person continuously travels back to the same point in time over and over again to relive the same events until they can somehow break the loop.

There are loads more of time travel structures I could go over, but those are three of the most basic. Regardless of which structure you use, you have to be willing to commit to it. It's like choosing a writing perspective and tense, if you choose third person past tense ("he said, she said, they said"), then suddenly switching to first person present tense ("I say", "I do", "I feel") without any context to establish that switch will be jarring. Make your rules, and if you have to break them, make sure they're broken for the sake of the story (ex. if you present some sort of plot twist to reveal the 'true nature' of the time travelling plotline).

Here's a great video that goes over some different time travel plotlines from movies/books/etc.:

As for my original comic, we go for the time travel = multiverse theory approach, where any changes made to a timeline in a past state will not change that timeline's future, but rather, create a new timeline where those past changes are true and written into the script, essentially relegating every single new timeline to a parallel universe. This is essentially how it's done in Avengers: Endgame , but instead of characters abusing the laws of quantum physics to travel back in time, it's characters abusing a magical book of diary entries that are primarily used by the main character to help him control and guide his time travelling abilities. Every diary entry essentially serves as a roadmap for him to find his way back to his home timeline from which he disappears every time he jumps. Much of the story is written entirely atop a paradox, specifically the bootstrap paradox:

(because if there are gonna be paradoxes no matter what you do, may as well have fun with them!)

There's a lot more I could go into regarding that, but for the sake of sparing the handful of Time Gate readers here of spoilers, Time Gate's laws of time travel dictate that you can't really change your past, just the future for other versions of you that you create when you try to change things.

All that said, I will say that in most cases, thinking too hard about any time travel story will cause it to fall apart, because time travel is a fictional trope that relies a lot on logical sequencing of events to work. So you kind of do just have to 'let it go' and have fun with it - but having rules to stick to will make things less of a headache for everyone, especially when it comes to telling a coherent story. Even my own criticisms of LO's time travel really don't matter in the end, because LO's problems go far deeper than some cheaply-made time travel and any of the time travel problems in the story will undoubtedly be explained away as "timey wimey shit". I'll still be pissed about it, but time travel isn't real (at least not for you) so it's not worth getting too bogged down by. Just do your best to tell an entertaining and coherent story.

[rillils]

RILS!!!! MY LOVELY LOVELY RILS!!! I JUST HAD A THOUGHT AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHDHHD!!!

goddddd one of my absolute favoritest things in the whole wide world are those moments of pure and utter respect the other avengers have for steve and buckys love and devotion for each other

the feelings of awe, worry, and i-should-probably-look-away on their way home from a mission while they watch steve and bucky crying in each others arms after a mission where steve fell and it didnt even take bucky a SECOND to think before he went and jump after him

steve and bucky are SO ready to risk anything AND everything for each other and the avengers are always so surprised each moment they see that because that kind of love is so RARE these days

and GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!! those moments just get me every time like UGHHH!!!

anyways

HI RILS!!!! HOW HAVE YOU BEEN??? these past couple of days have been amazinggggg for me and i hope they have been for you as well

im hugging u rn 💛💛💛

HONEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY MY DARLING MY SWEETS 💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕 YOUR THOUGHTS ARE PURE GOLD, YOU KNOW THAT?? 💕💖💕💖💕💖

the feelings of awe, worry, and i-should-probably-look-away on their way home from a mission while they watch steve and bucky crying in each others arms after a mission where steve fell and it didnt even take bucky a SECOND to think before he went and jump after him

NGHMODJHFDJFHJNG ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME HERE??? because this is as beautiful as it is devastating, my god 😭😭💕💕

on the matter of the avengers, do you know what I'd really love to see? the team not fully understanding why Steve was willing to fight so hard for Bucky, until they see the two of them together. existing together. fighting together. just *screeches*

Nat and Sam would have seen it first, I think, what with everything they've been through in catws. but I like to imagine the others, as well, watching Steve with Bucky day after day and coming to realize, one by one, just what sort of bond ties them together.

watching them spar is… transfixing. it feels like intruding on something intimate, with the way they move so fluidly, so seamlessly together.

the quick pace they set, the soft grunts, the glistening sheen of sweat on their skin. the tangle of bare limbs, the straining of hard, supple muscles, arms thrusting and parring, clutching and releasing;

the appreciative grins flashing on their lips when they're stalling for a moment, catching their breath, eyes glinting with excitement. with the same sort of thrilling satisfaction that comes from chasing an orgasm. it's pure electricity between them. the way their bodies dance together like this, graceful, competent. deadly. sensual. you can't tear your eyes off of them, and yet at the same time you feel almost dirty for staring for so long.

seeing them in a real fight, out there against this week's enemy? it makes you understand what people mean when they say that soulmates are just 'one soul living in two bodies'. these guys, they move like they're one person, fierce and with singular focus - always so attuned to each other it's like they're reading each other's minds, already moving 1 second before the other can even ask

(it's also worth noting: they have no concept of personal space when it comes to one another. it's not Steve's or Bucky's space, it's Steve-and-Bucky's space, and they're going to occupy that space together. they always seem to know where the other is, always casually, intimately aware of the other's physical presence, reaching for each other without even looking - and never fucking missing)

please imagine: adrenaline crash after the fight is over, they're slouched together in the back of the quinjet, bruised up and dozing off into each other's side, bodies drifting close on instinct, heads slotting into place on each other's shoulders - until Bucky's softly snoring nose-deep in Steve’s hair, and Steve's waking up to the imprint of Bucky’s shoulder straps pressed neatly onto his cheek.

the way they fuss over each other, checking each other for wounds, between a pained hiss and a soft growling of "quit being so fuckin' stubborn and lemme see that already."

their bickering always, inevitably melting into mutual teasing, voices lowering by a fraction as they trade half-whispered promises of what's to come, later, when they're finally alone again.

I want, just once, for Steve to sprain his ankle and for Bucky to decide that, alright, there's only one thing for it - and to carry him bridal style out of the quinjet, while Steve cusses up a storm and swears, in so many words, to chop Bucky's dick off if Bucky doesn't put him down right the fuck now, and Bucky smiling seraphically and nodding along as he carries Steve away, "Sure, sweetheart, whatever you say."

I mean. the team can't possibly have any doubts as to what these two mean to each other, at some point 💕

all that aside, I'm so happy to hear that your days have been amazing lately!!! are you having a fun summer?? how are your new friends?? ahhhh I'm just so so glad you're having a great time, sweetie!! 💕💕💕 LOVE YOU LOTS!! and I'm hugging you too 💕💕

[kaijuparfait]

I saw ur tags about indulging in the body horror aspect of the Symbiote/Host dynamic and im just here to say: do it >:3

YES.

GOD. ok so. I've always enjoyed the concept of body horror, not all the way, but it looked cool in art! But! Recently Symbrock (and Venom as a whole) has turned that up to 100- both in a "Wow! Cool alien creature biting people's heads off! >:D" way, but also in a "The goo is in his organs, his tissue, his cells... how romantic!" way.

And, if you'll excuse me, I'll only be talking about my (limited) knowledge/headcanons with Symbrock because I haven't read all the comics yet so this is all with Eddie and the Venom Symbiote in mind-

Firstly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone mention how the Symbiote can enter/exit it's Host's body through their skin, without damaging the Host. There's no wounds, just the easy slide in between layers of cells, Venom can be as solid as they want but can also come together so seamlessly, its like watching someone fold a deck of cards.

Even on a psychological standpoint, the idea of actually being "Venom". Singular. Not "We" are Venom. But the idea of two beings, from different sides of the universe, coming together perfectly as one being, one mind, one consciousness. A bit of an OC ramble, I have this OC that goes into this idea of acting as one being and I'll talk about them later but WOAH is it fun. The sheer intimacy of it.. not losing your own self, but simply combing it with another to create something- someone new.

Ok onto the actual body horror-

I am not normal about the Symbiote literally being in Eddie's blood. Blood is everywhere in the body, anywhere you poke, blood will come out- and in that, the Symbiote, ready to heal the wound.

Speaking of healing wounds, and also this post because I keep rereading it, it makes me ill, the Venom Symbiote truly sees it's Host as it's home. and that does something to me. The way it keeps the body healthy, like how you would clean your house, no longer having to worry about illnesses or infections; how it heals any injuries, like fixing a broken wall, repainting it, like there was no damage in the first place.

Knowing it's home so well, able to know what's wrong and how to make it right. Complete and utter devotion to it's beloved home, the one that keeps it safe, willingly, lovingly let's it- wants it inside to keep it safe. To know that something that could tear apart planets if it so wanted to, something that bares it's rows of teeth as a natural expression, something that has destroyed countless lives- to know something like that gently rests in the space between your organs because it wants to. And how much you want it to too.

And this goes both ways too! When they're Venom and get hurt, they way the Symbiote peels away from the body is.. its amazing that the Symbiote can be torn away from it's Host. When Eddie gets hurt, the Symbiote comes out, from inside- When Venom gets hurt, instead of blood or organs, it's Eddie at the center, but he acts as the same anyways. Eddie is the Symbiote's life, he is it's heart, carefully tucked away and protected.

Even though Eddie doesn't particularly enjoy eating people's brains, he comes up with a compromise for the 2 of them anyways, he buys tons of chocolate for it to eat too, and that adds up for a guy that is living in a one room flat. and AND AND I will never get over how, in LTBC, Venom leaves all the red m&m's, because the red dye is said to be harmful to humans in large amounts, so even though it's one of the few things it needs to live, it refuses it to keep Eddie- it's Host- it's home safe.

and, I mean, Venom totally could eat Eddie if it so wanted to, in the first movie, Eddie's literally going through.. several organ failures- but Venom puts him back together, back better! and i am suddenly ill-

excuse my weird ideas but hhhhhh Eddie being torn apart and put back together..... yeah. how much trust is needed for that? how much love is shown from letting it consume his flesh and bones, from it eating the thing it loves the most, from it knowing every ridge and curve of every organ and cell to put everything back where it was?

how much love is needed to destroy something, to be destroyed, and come back together?

also Trust Exercise is a dang good fic, i need more of this. please. or i'll start making it myself (i'll do it anyways)

This, too, can go both ways, I am a big fan of swapping how Eddie and Venom and portrayed, both in canon and in fanon, just for the fun of it- and I'm just saying... let Eddie tear apart the Symbiote! maybe Eddie wants to rip it apart with his teeth and bare hands! Let them fight and rip each other apart, but with love <3 (oh fight/sparring scenes between friends/lovers, how i love you so)

you can't really see it well, and i'll make a better show of it later, but my design for (movie) Eddie has sharp teeth and that isn't for no reason. I.... ADORE the idea that, after being Venom for so long, Eddie starts adapting parts of them into his "normal" body- sharper teeth, clouded eyes, maybe even some of his skin is pitch black too, just because it makes him feel like Venom in his everyday life, even a little bit.

ough i need to lay down after that but- THANK YOU so much for asking me this, this was such a treat to let out, it's like a weight has been lifted off me lmao

i'll probably have more on this topic later on, but i'll probably use those ideas for art/writing, i love thinking about them :3

EDIT: ALSO ALSO ALSO the way the Venom Symbiote literally goes against it's very nature to love Eddie, it goes against what every other Symbiote does, it betrays it's entire race and planet- JUST TO BE VENOM WITH EDDIE <3

[qweerhet]

i do think that the abolitionists who cling to the "it's simple, just kick abusers/assaulters/rapists/murderers out of the community" line are just... usually people who have never had the experience of someone they deeply, deeply care for, someone they have committed their life to, committing serious and egregious harm. (that, or they have, and like anti-abortion folks who get abortions for themselves when push comes to shove, they come up with narratives about how their situation was the most singular and special situation in the entire world, and nothing else like that could ever happen to anyone else.)

but like... when you run into that situation IRL, you generally find it's not ever as simple as kicking someone out, or rolling up with your crew and beating them until they promise to move somewhere else. they have complex relationships within the community, some of which aren't going to be willing to cut them off entirely no matter what they did. family relationships--regardless of biology, "family" in the broader sense of "chosen bonds of unconditional love and lifelong commitment"--are notably often capable of weathering severe strain, and that can include shit like "you're still my sister even if you murdered someone."

and people who commit harm IRL have complex and multifaceted reasons for committing that harm, some of which can be systemic in nature. this isn't to say that the harm doesn't exist, or that their actions are excused or justified by those reasons, but when you have an intimate relationship with someone and are privy to the complexities of the situation, those reasons do often materially complicate situations beyond just "beat the villain up and save the victims." if the serious harm someone is enacting is materially pressured by systemic factors, it's incredibly unlikely that it will change or stop if they're forced to move cities and cut off from their former relationships. in fact, when we're talking about abuse and trauma that's partially enacted due to material systemic pressure, it's more likely that someone will become even more unstable and volatile when forced to rebuild their life, and continue to enact even worse harm due to their decreased supports and increased vulnerability.

like... we're all damn well aware that when we, as abolitionists, talk about this shit, we're not talking about jeff bezos. we're not even talking about joe smith two neighborhoods over with a six-figure salaried position and a 401k that he started in the 70s. we're talking about the people in our abolitionist communities, who are victim to generational poverty, who are usually disabled, trans, nonwhite. we're people who don't have the option to just find a new job and start over in a new city one day. and we're people who exist at the nexus of intense, violent societal pressures pushing us to harm one another, to use what little hierarchical power we can get against each other, to commit real and lasting violent harm. that shit is complex in reality. that shit isn't addressed by a pithy "kill your local rapist" patch or a tweet questioning why anyone's still talking to [insert transfem who abused someone here].

and like. it's hard! it's upsetting and difficult and miserable to get into the weeds of "why did someone do what awful thing they did and how do we actually materially reduce the likelihood of that happening." because the answers usually don't involve forcing them to move or forcing everyone who speaks to them to cut them off or beating them, in reality, and even though those answers feel good and feel like real solutions, they're not only unrealistic, they also usually actually make future harm of the same kind more likely. and it's hard to wrap our heads around the fact that people will continue to hurt each other in profoundly horrific ways until we learn to dismantle the systems enabling that harm and heal the dysfunction within individuals that makes them feel like that harm was justifiable and necessary. that sucks. but in the end, i think it's the only... realistic way forward? because the ~just kick em out~ ~just kill em~ line is so, so ungrounded in reality.

[sparxaf]

Let's talk about s*x baby...

Or more specifically, let's talk about sex scenes. I spent all day yesterday binging some stories on my favorite terrible book app that I won't name. They're mostly very bad, but highly entertaining. I read one that was actually good, even the sex scenes (which is usually where even the decent stories falter). But it was odd. Despite being well-written, the end of every steamy scene fell flat. After the third one, I realized the problem. Every sex scene ended with a sparsely detailed orgasm and someone climbing off the other and putting on their underwear. There was no emotional break between the act of sex and the next action/dialogue. The writer completely neglected the afterglow. Think of something similar to this:

His thrusts sped and he tightened his grip on her hair, as a harsh growl ripping from him as he came. He rolled over and reached for his underwear and she sighed contentedly as he slid them on and headed for the bathroom.

It was so fucking abrupt, I was like, wait what? No amount of well-placed similes or delicious dirty talk can save a scene that doesn't leave you with an emotion, and that's what was missing. The author didn't get that the details of sex aren't as important as the emotions they invoke. Every romantic sex scene should (ideally) have an emotional purpose. It should either push the relationship forward or further apart. Love scenes are really just emotional catharsis disguised as someone getting their back blown out.** So we need a moment. A space to breathe and feel something before the scene moves on:

His thrusts sped and he tightened his grip on her hair, as a harsh growl ripped from him and he came. He breathed heavily against her neck, his body quivering with aftershocks, his world tilted sideways from the feel of her shaking beneath him. After catching his breath, he pressed kisses to her neck and she giggled. Then, he rolled over and reached for his underwear.

It's not a huge thing. I didn't make the afterglow a super deep and profound moment, but I put a space there, a single emotional reaction between the orgasm and the aftermath, so the reader can catch their breath. He recognized how good it felt and then, they shared a little cuddle. If you want to take it further, you can add a tiny bit of banter.

His thrusts sped and he tightened his grip on her hair, as a harsh growl ripped from him and he came. He breathed heavily against her neck, his body quivering with aftershocks, his world tilted sideways from the feel of her shaking beneath him. After catching his breath, he pressed kisses to her neck and she giggled. "Wow," she said. "Mmm," he rolled over and reached for his underwear before pulling her back to him and kissing her soundly. "Give me twenty minutes and we can do that again."

That's not great, but hopefully you get the idea. I feel like this advice still works for non-romantic smut as well. Even if the sex is rough or antagonistic, you should put an emotional beat in between the orgasm and the transition.

There are few things worse than unfulfilling sex and the same is true for sex scenes. In many ways, they're the same thing. If you want it to be good you have to pay attention to pace and rhythm, appreciate the moment, and don't get up and put on your underwear immediately after coming, like your partner is a video game NPC you're done engaging with.

Happy writing!

**I kept visualizing sex scenes as a singular emotion wearing a trench coat and hat, like the three kids in a coat on Bojack Horseman. Which made me snort laugh, but I couldn't figure out a way to incorporate that description into the post itself. So you get it here. You're welcome.

[double-features]

BREAKFAST CLUB - PETER MAXIMOFF x READER

≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼ ------ peter maximoff x gn!reader

SUMMARY : reader is considered a bit of a basket case amongst her classmates, an enigma to most. during detention one day, the annoying kleptomaniac decides to bother reader! the two totally dont hit it off at first, but eventually learn to appreciate one another <3

WARNINGS : implied abuse ( never outright stated or described, not even really implied too heavily really ) , nothing else really!!

GENRE : fluff !

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

Maryland, circa 1972. I had no reason to be in detention.

I just felt like it. Didn't want to go home, I supposed. As much as I disliked the idea of having to stay at school off the clock, the thought of going home was wayyy.. wayyy worse.

I wasn't popular in my year. People saw me as a bit of an outsider. Just some weird kid, a basket case to most around me. There was so much more to me than that stereotypical "oh they're so weird, they belong in an asylum" crap everyone spread around about me. But, I enjoyed the serenity of being alone.

Especially being a mutant.

I didn't have a mutation that altered my appearance, luckily enough, I was blessed with something not noticeable to the naked eye. Thermokinesis with a not so fun blend of pyromancy. Well, at least that's what I dubbed it. Fire, basically. I can heat myself up and create fires. Wooo!! Fun!! I'm basically just a walking campfire.

And my mutanthood is exactly why I hate people.

Well, that sounded misanthropic. I don't hate people, I'd just much rather be alone and unbothered. I'm already picked on enough being a quiet kid without the whole mutation thing, So, I decided I was just going to keep it a secret and keep on living the lonely life.

Anyways, back to the whole detention thing.

I sat in the back of the library, with my head plopped down on the desk. Honk mimimimi. I wasn't actually asleep, but I was pretending to be so the others wouldn't bother me. The 'others' being one other singular kid. I had him in a couple of my classes, always seemed like he was up to one thing or another. Had quite the reputation as a thief, always having run-ins with the police and shit..

Peter Maximoff, I believe his name was.

Wonder why he is in here now. Well, whatever it was, I didn't necessarily care enough to interrogate him on it. It's not like he was bothering m-

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.."

My peace was broken by a rapid tapping on my shoulder and the same word repeated over and over again. I didn't know he was behind me, last I saw, he was sitting at a desk while drumming his fingers against the table. I didn't hear footsteps or anything, a faint breeze hit my skin and boom. He was suddenly behind me, annoying as can be.

I squeaked out a noise and raised my head, in my peripheral I could see the boy swaying on his heels. He retracted his hands once he met my faux look of tiredness. "Hi y/n."

"Hello?" I treaded carefully, the two of us had never spoken a single day in our lives. Lazily propping my chin on my hand, I blinked up at Peter, who seemed restless. But then again, he always seemed restless. The reason? I never truly knew.

Without missing a beat, he hit me with the obvious question. "Why're you here?" The same question I am always asked whenever I popped up for detention. No matter who it was, it was always the same. Honestly, I had no reason to be here.

"Why're you here?" I retorted, unamused. I tried to make it clear that I didn't want to be bothered, that I just wanted to be alone, but I don't think poor ol' Maximoff caught onto that.

"Ah, well, pshh.. Y'know.. caught skipping class."

"You can get detention for that?"

Dot dot dot. He just stared at me as if I said the most stupid thing known to mankind. It wasn't even that dumb of a question! I didn't know that skipping was punishable by detention. I uncomfortably shifted in my seat when he didn't give me a proper response.

Until I heard his laughter. It made me flinch, just as I was about to put my head back down. "Well, duh, I'm in detention now for it, aren't I?"

In a flash, he sat down beside me. Now, I'm not exaggerating when I say he was perched in the chair in the span of a single millisecond. Holy crap. Before I could squish my face back against the table, Peter had left me in a state of shock, confusion.. security? He was just like me. Oh my god! He was like me!

"What?" His laughter died down once he caught my not so subtle staring.

"You aren't scared to.. y'know, show your curse?" I furrowed my eyebrows and took a minute to just think about it. Jesus, he probably thought I was judging him by the way I was glaring. Never did I ever think that I would meet someone like me. Especially not at someplace like a detention I don't technically need to be at.

"Curse? It's not a curse. Love my powers, dude!"

I chuckled nervously. I didn't want to make him think I was judging him, if only he knew that I was just like him. "You're not scared to like.. show it off though?"

"Nothing anyone would believe if you tried telling them.." He gave me a smug look while he raked a hand through his silver hair. Something I have always considered to be quite the fashion choice, but now that I knew he was a mutant, I was starting to question if it was dyed or if it was just a part of his.. well, mutation.

"You're a mutant." I bluntly commented on the obvious.

"No I'm not." He spoke quickly, just like how me moved quickly. Seriously, I was not getting over this anytime soon.

"Yeah you are."

"Nuh uh."

"Yuh huh!"

Peter chortled at my persistence, even in his stubborn denial of his true self, he kept the same shit eating grin plastered on his pretty face. I raised a dubious eyebrow towards him and he just responded with an innocent shrug.

"So what did you want anyways?" I spoke up after a bit of silence, since it was getting unbearable. I felt more comfortable around him knowing that he was a mutant like me, but that didn't mean I necessarily wanted to chat with him or hang out with him. "We're not even supposed to be talking."

"Nobody's around!! Hey, don't burst a blood vessel worrying about getting caught talking. I'll take the blame if anything happens." He dismissively waved his hand and swiftly sat up, and in that short period of time, he somehow acquired a decent sized pile of papers. "You're good at math, aren't you?"

"Not really?" I blankly stared down at what I assumed to be a bunch of math homework. Probably all missing. How the hell wasn't this boy failing?! He probably approached me because we're in the same math class.

Yeah, that made perfect sense.

"Shiiiiit!" he snapped and threw the papers behind us, and I just watched as they fluttered slowly down onto the dirty, carpeted floor of the library. "Well, nevermind then."

"Did you really only approach me to help you with homework?" I snickered.

"I mean.. we're in the same math class, and you just radiate nerd. Saw you in here, I was like, 'woah, it's that one rad girl in my math class.', then I was like 'it's that one rad girl in my math class!!!', you should feel honored that I picked you to be my tutor."

"Interesting story. I feel so special." I sarcastically snorted in an attempt to keep a straight face. It was hard to keep track of what he was saying, but he had a way of putting things into ways that, even when he is speaking fast, you can understand.

In response to my sarcasm, he gave a smug expression. "You should feel special. Anyways, even if you do suck at math, I just wanted to talk. You're a total enigma."

Silence.

I didn't really have too much to say to that. An enigma, huh? Peter truly thought I was such a mystery that he decided to intrude on my alone time in an unneeded detention. I perked an eyebrow at his persistence to hold a conversation with me, of all people.

"Why?" He suddenly asked. The question threw me for a loop, what was that even supposed to mean? Why what?

"Huh?"

"Why are you so aloof all the time? Everyone thinks you're a total nut job."

I could tell he didn't mean any harm by his words, so I didn't take them to heart. Instead, I rolled my eyes and shot back without even thinking. "It's not like your reputation is any better than mine, klepto. You know people think you're annoying, right? You.. are aware of that?"

Maybe I could have been a smidge bit nicer to him. That realization kicked in once he didn't respond to my snarkiness. Until..

"Do you think that?" Peter spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, as if unsure of what he was asking.

Do I tell him the truth or tell him a little white lie? I didn't want to hurt him any more than I may have already, but then again, we weren't friends, and I knew lying to make him feel better probably wasn't the way to go about this. Yet I still went with the latter. "Not at all. I know how it feels to be an outsider."

"I like to think I'm pretty cool. I never intend to annoy people."

Part of me felt a pang of sympathy for the silver haired ball of energy that picked me as his next buddy. He didn't want to annoy people. Peter seriously wasn't much different from me, we were both weird mutants just trying to live our lives in a widely disapproving world.

Unsure of how to express my true thoughts on Peter's 'always annoying people' dilemma, I give a very, very heartfelt response. "I.. Sorry..?"

Catch my sarcasm? Well, I immediately felt guilty afterwards, I wish I could have said more to cheer him up. Not that he needed it. It just seemed like he needed a friend at that moment.

"Why?"

"I'm a wallflower. I know how it feels to be seen as weird. Maybe not annoying, but I can sympathize with you, from mutant weirdo to anoth-"

Before I could realize my mistake and finish, I was cut off by a now starry eyed Maximoff in my face. He seemed excited, and I didn't realize why until he spoke up, "Duuude! No way!! You're a mutant?!"

I paused. Well, the secret was out now! I did a pretty damn good job hiding it from a majority of the school population, yet it slipped out whilst talking to the infamous twinkie thief. Guess he was just that easy to talk to, even if I hated to admit it.

"Well.. Uh.. Yeah?"

"I could literally kiss you right now, why didn't you tell me before?! I thought I was like, the only mutant at this stupid school!" My face heated up drastically, from what? I don't know. It might have been his opening sentence, or it could have been the energy he had, or maybe the acceptance that I didn't feel as if I deserved.

"In my defense, we aren't friends.." I mumbled, nervously fiddling and shrugging.

"Well.. Can we be? Be friends?"

After hearing his question, I perked up a curious eyebrow and a chuckle escaped from the back of my throat. A completely unintentional smile tugged at my lips. Why was I actually starting to enjoy his company? I was supposed to hate everyone and everything..

But him? I didn't hate him anymore. He was starting to grow on me.

"That actually sounds really nice.."

With a fist pumped in the air, he was in the seat next to me in a matter of seconds, a goofy lopsided grin on his face. "..Sooo.. Wanna maybe.. like.. pshh.. y'know? Hangout after this?"

Shooting another gentle grin in his direction, I roll my eyes and snicker. "Fuck it. I'd like tha-"

"Awesome!"

He took that as my confirmation that he was allowed to talk my ear off for the rest of the detention we served together. Funny. Who knew an in school suspension could lead to a blossoming friendship between two nearly total opposites?

Not that I was complaining.

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≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼ ------ reblogs & likes are always appreciated, keeps me motivated to continue creating :)

A/N : mighr make a part two?? mayhaps??

[robotsandramblings]

me reading the "new" "canon" heights for the Bad Batch on starwars.com:

nooo thank you, don't like those, i'll stick to the wookiepedia + my headcanons version lol ✌️

i'll save my overall analysis & ramblings for under the readmore

(here's the og thread that brought it to my attention. make sure to read op's corrected version!)

(p.s. the height chart was done by me on heightcomparison.com, it's not an official star wars image -- but the data matches starwars.com)

first off, i will acknowledge that visually, in the show, their heights are always a tricky thing. i've been referencing a bajillion screenshots since i came upon this thread. their comparative heights change in like every screenshot, due to camera angles and/or where they're standing relative to each other. we never get to see all five (5) of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side, in a single straight line, with an eye-level camera shot*.

i'll also acknowledge that i've always just gone off of what wookiepedia says, because it's the closest to an 'official' source that we've ever had -- but it's still not the official source. Here's the wookiepedia version, btw:

and you know what? depending on what screenshot you look at, these can both seem right. sometimes, Tech looks as tall as Crosshair; other times, Tech looks close to Echo's height. (Tech is also rarely at full height -- he's usually got his head and shoulders bent down to read his datapad. i think he slouches too.) i also find Hunter's height varies a lot too, depending on the shot.

Personally, i will be following the wookiepedia version. i think the starwars.com numbers are way, way off. (Warning: here's where the ranting part begins lol)

Wrecker has never, ever been a full head taller than Tech, Echo, or Hunter. what the actual fuck lmaooo

and 7 inches taller than Crosshair?? i don't think so lads

they're tryin' to tell me Echo is shorter than reg height??? bullshit lol. and Tech too??? also bullshit lmao

i refuse to believe Tech is only 2cm taller than Hunter; Tech should be, at minimum, 2 inches taller than Hunter.

i feel Omega's height can vary in the show, like Tech or Hunter as i mentioned. sometimes she seems very small, sometimes she seems taller than i remember.

that all said, i think the height for Omega is correct... for Season 1**. but S2? and now in S3? she's definitely grown a bit.

so i guess if i had to come up with my own numbers, i'd go primarily with the wookiepedia data, with a few tweaks...

Omega**: at least 140cm / 4' 7''

Hunter: 180-181cm / 5' 11''

Echo: 185cm / 6' 1''

Tech: 190-193cm / 6' 3'' - 6' 4''

Crosshair: 193cm / 6' 4''

Wrecker: 198-200cm max / 6' 6''

(i will hold onto Short King Hunter with a death grip until i die. even though i'll admit he looks reg/Echo height in a lot of shots. but i just really love the idea that's he's juuuust under 6' !)

**My headcanon is that in S1, Omega was approximately 10 years old. (which would match with starwars.com data, since average height for a 10-yr-old = 127-137cm.) i'm assuming we're at least 2 years later by S3, so she should be 12, which should put her height at 140-162cm.

i think in the show, they're keeping her closer to 140cm, but i'm equally onboard with her being on the taller side, closer to 162cm. i like the idea that she will eventually grow to reg clone height of 6 feet, thus she'd be on the taller end of "average" child height.

*there is one singular screenshot i came across which might be the closest. however, it's only properly showing the OG four -- Echo is in the shot, but disproportionately in front of them. it's also from their pilot in Clone Wars S7, which arguably was just a beginning stage for them, and changes were made before their own show aired, including the animation style/models.

it would explain where many of us got our idea of Tech = Crosshair same height. but Hunter is also nearly as tall as them?? certainly not 180cm lmao. so idk. take that as you will.