#big words wheeeeee

[kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon]

Chapter 3 of Sins of Knowledge is up!

Chaptered fic (3/12?), WIP, posting every other week

Here Come the Man with a Look in His Eye

Rated Explicit

CW/TW and tags: sex pollen/dubcon, ethical concerns, coercion, blackmail, human AU, university AU, more tags and notes at AO3

Biggest thanks to the usual suspects, @cheeseplants and @gaiaseyes451 for the stellar and thoughtful beta! You two are fantastic ❤️ also thanks to the @goodomensafterdark writers for being all around super supports and the best goblins anywhere ❤️‍🔥

Chapter Summary:

When last we left them, Crowley and Aziraphale had been discovered in flagrante-ish, or least in somno (...after flagrante) by Shax and Hastur. (At least they had their pants on? Mostly?) They meet the man behind the lab. Extortion ensues. Aziraphale attends Crowley’s class and does science badly, Crowley experiences some odd perceptions, and the next formula is ready to be tested. Also we may have gone from the rapid-fire burn of last chapter to a bunch of cool coals. Oh, dear.

See AO3 for full work summary and tags!

Excerpt:

Something was welling up in Crowley like a giant balloon. Was it hope? Relief? It was heady and huge. He remembered the word angel burning in his mouth, and the glow of Aziraphale’s forehead. Could it be that once in his life Crowley had actually judged someone accurately? And that someone had also judged him and found him to be something other than treacherous? “I did bring you over to Ashbury in the first place,” he reminded Aziraphale.

A tiny smile flickered over Aziraphale’s face. “Are you trying to convince me of your guilt?”

“No. I just – no.”

“Fine. Good. I’m still going to audit your course. You can still audit mine as well, if you like. Not sure what to do with this independent study nonsense, though.” 

“I could help. I’ve set up loads for Bea, they have me work with masters’ students on it.”

“No, I’ll speak to Ana.” Aziraphale looked as though he were steeling himself, and then in a rush, he said: “I just want to be clear. I don’t want to do that again.”

And just like that, wheeeeee the balloon punctured. “Okay,” said Crowley. “That, meaning…”

“What we’ve been captured doing on live and uncensored late night camera. I mean. I’m not sure what will happen next with this absolute madman playing God and apparently no consequences, but I don’t want – “ Aziraphale sighed. “That wasn’t me. I don’t do that.”

“What,” Crowley said unkindly, “sleep with blokes? A little late in life for panic, eh? Maybe I’m the one who should be asking about STIs, you know studies have shown closeted gays are just as promiscuous if not more so — ”

“Oh fuck off, you know what I mean,” Aziraphale snapped. “I’m not in the closet. I meant I don’t sleep with people like that, like you.” 

Oooh, this just got better and better. Crowley couldn’t help smiling a bit even as his chest constricted. “Like me. What, sexy?”

Aziraphale put a hand to his temple. “Bloody hell. Yes, I despise giving head to sexy men.”

His lips still looked soft, as soft and warm and wet as they’d felt when he’d kissed Crowley’s belly, bent down and closed them over the head of Crowley’s cock. Crowley gulped. What had he been about to say? Something smart. Quick, say something smart. “Big apologies. I am what I am.”

“I forgive you,” Aziraphale said, with so much sarcasm that it practically deluged the quad. 

“Ahhhh. You’re one of those pining-for-ages types, then. In love from afar and all that.” Crowley couldn’t stop, his mouth had taken something smart and launched into the void. “Distance makes the cock grow harder. Wanking every night, wishing and hoping.”

Aziraphale flushed deeper at each word. Crowley stuck his knuckles between his teeth to shut himself up. He wanted to curl into Aziraphale, press his mouth against the heady warmth of that blood rising beneath the skin. He settled for scooting around on the bench, stretching his legs.

[disappointingyet]

Catching Fire: The Anita Pallenberg Story

Directors Alexis Bloom, Svetlana Zill Stars Marlon Richards, Keith Richards, Angela Richards, Stash Klossowski de Rola, Jake Weber USA 2023 Language English, some French, Italian, German (with subtitles) 1hr 50mins Colour, black & white

Sobering tale of a woman derailed by self-absorbed blokes

If there’s one lesson I took from this film, it’s this: if anyone starts lamenting the loss of danger in rock music, just slap them. And don’t hold back. Because if relatively early in this documentary you’re thinking ‘Wheeeeee! Don’t the ‘60s look glamorous and fun!’ by the final third, it’s become very sobering indeed. Even if Anita Pallenberg’s surviving kids Marlon and Angela Richards seem OK, the fact that they have wildly different accents turns out to be a hint of how deeply screwed-up their childhoods were. 

Pallenberg – if for some strange reason you’re reading this without having heard of her – was a German-Italian model and actress whose promising career* got sidetracked by her successive romantic involvements with Rolling Stones guitarists Brian Jones and Keith ‘Keef’ Richards.

She’s absolutely central to the Stones myth, the late ’60s/early ‘70s period when they helped invent the idea of rock music as something separate from pop, and seemed dark and mysterious and full of ambiguity, as opposed to the sturdy old troupers they’ve been since. 

Keith Richards readily credits Pallenberg for his look – his transition from the poloneck-sweater era to scarves and billowing shirts was accomplished by wearing her clothes. She gave the Stones a lot – what she got in return is more in question.

The film is built around Pallenberg’s unpublished memoir, with her words read by Scarlett Johansson (I spent chunks of the film trying to place the voice.) This is woven in with interviews with her friends and family. I’ve watched a lot of documentaries about the 1960s and the survivors from that time have a tendency to be gratingly self-congratulatory and utterly lacking in perspective or any sense of what’s interesting to the rest of the world rather than to them.

Either the directors have done a very good job keeping their interviewees on track, or they picked them well. Even Stash Klossowski de Rola, a bit of a character who apparently is now big on Tik Tok, stays relevant. 

To me, though, the more valuable – if distressing – part of the film is the part covering the 1970s, when Pallenberg, struggling with addiction, firstly had to play host to the making of Exile On Main St in her house and then was instructed to stay home while Keith embarked on never-ending tours.

This is when we hear from Marlon Richards and also from Jake Weber, these days a reliable character actor but in 1971 a kid whose dealer dad brought him along to hang out in the Exile house. Weber is always excellent value talking about this stuff, while it’s just impressive that Marlon Richards emerged as anything other than a total wreck. 

As a piece of film-making, Catching Fire is a reasonably conventional documentary. It benefits from how much is on film – Pallenberg in her actress days and then the whole Stones circle. It does dabble a bit in a psychedelic feel for some of the 1960s stuff, but then settles down to tell a powerful if deeply depressing story. 

Classic rock stars? Bunch of twats.  *Watching the clips from Barbarella, it's weird to think that Pallenberg was actually three years younger than Jane Fonda.

[littlefreya]

Nice day for a White Wedding

Summary:  Even on your wedding day, there is no getting away from August. His grip over you has no boundaries.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (you)

Word count: 3.3K

Warning: Explicit smutty smut, MaleDom/FemSub, stripping, spanking (rather hardcore this time), slight fingering, bondage, rough sex. Wheeeeee

A/N: So my amazing @agniavateira​ who is also my editor(!) challenged me to a request a while ago and it turned out Ummm more explicit than I thought. So I hope you guys don’t unfollow me after this but not blaming you if you will. Also the name, yes, I am a Billy Idol fan. 

Title: Nice Day for a white wedding

White suits you well, a delicate contrast against the shade of your skin. That dress was, without doubt, a marvellous choice. Your mother complained about it being too simple, wanting you to pick something more extravagant. But you knew from the moment you saw it that this dress you wanted to get married in.

The sheer fabric with the little floral details, the way the tulle flows from your hips and falls down your feet makes you feel like a fairytale princess. You can’t help but pose at the mirror in your living room; chin atop the arch of your shoulder, tilting your head and letting your hair sway down your forearm.

All that’s missing is a little golden tiara and a bouquet of pale pink roses and you’ll be ready for the big day.

You nudge your thumb against the diamond ring, and then collect the tulle of the dress in both arms, lifting it and letting it fall calmly onto the floor.  

“Looks good on you, princess.”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins. You don’t even need to turn, that deep thunderous voice is already distinguished. 

Your little fairytale has taken a dark twist. You glance at the reflection, watching how he appears from the umbra of light.

A monstrosity so beautiful it makes your heart feel sunken.  

You keep quiet, letting his footsteps dominate the atmosphere in the room, making it thick and heavy with fear. He moves from the darkness, letting the light shower his face. He looks the same as the day you left him. His face still appears as if it was cut from marble by some artist; that moustache still adorns his face, giving him that dangerous-looking edge. 

Without even noticing you hold your hands together, trying to cover that striking diamond ring. But August notices, his eyes trailing over your reflection, drinking in every detail.

“When is the wedding?”

You swallow hard and narrow your eyes, not wanting to dignify him with an answer. He has no right to be here, to taint the new life you created for yourself. 

Because that’s what hurricane Walker does, he leaves you bleeding, a wreck of a woman. 

August lowers his head, looking at his shoes. Knowing him well, it only means that he is harbouring his anger right now. Hell, he has been harbouring it for the last three years.

“This weekend.” 

Talking to him feels as if you broke some spell or summoned a demon by mistake, making him real and not just a figment of your imagination. 

He answers with a bitter smile, his eyes touched by a storm. 

“You really thought you can just leave and then marry someone else? You really thought I’d never find you?” 

“I never thought you’d care enough to bother.” you dare, assuming you’re right. But you remember what happens when you err with August. The payment is painful.

The storm inside him begins to rage. His eyes blaze, even from where you’re standing you can see the small wrinkles that form at each corner.  

“Turn around.” 

Slowly and carefully, as if to not awaken any sleeping dragons, you turn. Refusing to meet his glare, you stare at the floor, hands laying loose at the tulle of your dress.

“Take off that fucking dress.” 

He commands in a voice so calm and rich it wouldn’t have sounded like order if it was heard by another person. 

Stunned by his demand, you finally gain the courage to look into his eyes. The sight of those blue crystals is the cage that draws you in. 

A prison of delights, made of diamonds. Beautiful, but still sharp.

He smirks, knowing he just won. One look and you are his, you’d fight it every time but the conclusion would always be the same: you’d be sore and sorry. Numerous times you told him it was over, yet you always took him back.  

“Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!”

Much to his delight, your chest heaves, making your breasts rise and fall in the v-shaped cleavage of your dress.. You reach a hand behind your back, pulling the zipper down which immediately makes the dress loosen from your body.  

Staring down at nothing but your shattered dignity, you reach for the strap hooked around your shoulder and begin slipping it down. 

“Slowly, and keep your eyes on me.” August demands, forcing you to pause with the strap in the middle of your forearm. Your eyes dart up to meet his stare, trying to read whatever is in that dark mind. 

Perhaps, it’s best you’d never find out.

The strap slides down your forearm before you tend to the other, letting your fingers strip it down while trying to think of some sensual song in your head. That’s what August wants: debauchery and eroticism.   

Your eyes remain on the beautiful blues obediently, trying to show no fear, but the quiver in your lower lip gives it away. August remains composed, caging you in his gaze, there is a faint grin in it.  

The fancy dress finally slips from your body, the fabric swirling around you for a swift moment like tender petals falling from a rose. It piles at your ankles and you hurry to cover your breasts as if he hasn’t seen them a thousand times before. 

He gives a huff, taking one step closer while shaking his head. 

“Aww, is my little princess getting shy? Lay down your arms.”

You obey, exposing your breasts to him. 

The outlines of his cock begin to show as he hardens against his trousers. The thought of it makes you damp in your underwear. It’s been three years, you can’t help but wonder how many broken mouths he had around him since you left. 

You’ve only been with one man and he is hardly the man August is. Yes, he satisfies you, but August destroyed you. 

His hand reaches to adjust his erection before inching toward you. The soft thud of his footsteps makes your heartbeat pace abnormally. The closer he gets, the bigger he looks. You wonder for a slight moment if he was this muscular back then when you still dated.

Finally, he towers over you, his face tilted down as he looks at you, offering a slanted smirk full of dark desires. You remain stoic, unsure how you’re supposed to react but then he leans in, pressing his lips ever so gently on your forehead. 

Everything you felt three years ago hits you like an axe at the back of your head. You breathe, nearly shocked by the circus of emotions that flood your chest. All that love and lust, all that fury and sorrow. 

Falling for August is worse than any sad love song ever written. The problem is, you’re sinking into an abyss.    

His lips hover over your mouth, his nose gently bumping against yours. Still, he remains there. Only his hands move as they work the seam of your plain cotton panties, rolling them down your thighs. 

He takes your hand, raising it and slightly pulling away so it will be at the level of his face. He looks at your ring finger with harsh disapproval. Opening his mouth, he takes your finger in, making you flinch as the hot wetness of his saliva surrounds your delicate finger. He suckles on it for a mere second. Your finger comes out bare and he spits the ring on the floor with utmost contempt.

With your wrist locked in his large hand, you never dream of protesting. On the contrary, you want to beg him for more, forgetting that you once had dignity. You can’t help but pout at his mouth, your eyes seeking that little freckle on his lower lip. 

“Did you dream of the moment I’d find you?” August asks, letting his finger trace the shape of your mouth.

“Sometimes, it was a nightmare.” you declare, parting your lips against his touch.

August hisses through his nose, his touch turning from gentle to crude in an instant. He grips your nape and conquers your mouth, exploiting your flimsy gasp to slip his tongue in. He kisses you for your betrayal, for all the years he had to suffer others, for the days he needed you and you weren’t there. His lips suck onto yours, changing angles to onslaught you from every direction. His tongue is fickle as it overpowers yours, and you hear that deep hum of his voice that makes you flutter against him.

Your lips are swollen and red when he ends the kiss. If not for the hand that holds your nape and hair, you’d be down on the ground by now.

“Get on your knees.” 

Still breathless you stare at him stunned as if his words are suddenly too complicated. Sighing with a wisp of frustration he shoves you down, forcing you to kneel in front of him. 

You are now facing his very hardened bulge, your eyes stare at his groin and then travel up to look at him submissively. August is in his favourite position, on top, staring down with his chest puffed with arrogance. His hands reach to unbuckle his belt and you can’t help but press your hands to massage that aching desire of his, longing to have him in your mouth.

But he has other plans, forcing your chin away with a pinch of his fingers. “No, I want you on four and I want to see you crawl.”

His hand leaves your chin, his head gestures at the direction of the bedroom. Where you and your-soon-to-be husband spend the night.

“Do as you’re told.” he commands, hardly even needing to raise his voice. “And do it slowly, I want to look at your cunt, I want to see how much you drip for me, understood?”

“Yes, August.” You turn on your knees and begin crawling on four, trying to be as sensual as possible. You arch your back and sway up your ass for the man you’ve abandoned for so many good reasons, yet right now you can’t even think of one.

You can hear the rustle of clothes behind you, the thud of his shoes being thrown somewhere and eventually the sound of the leather of his belt as it slips from around his waist. There is a small smacking sound and you realize he’s still holding the belt and slapping it against his palm. 

Your knees nearly give in at the thought of what awaits you in this bedroom. But you still crawl on, swallowing your pride. 

August kicks the door closed when the two of you are finally inside. It’s just the two of you in the house, you find it odd but then you realize it means to heighten your fear, to make you feel hopeless and owned. 

He reaches for your elbow, pulling you to stand up, letting you glimpse his god-like form only for a moment before throwing you facedown on the bed. You are pleased to see you were right, he has grown bigger in the last three years, gaining more muscle.  

You feel the bed shift as he places one knee on the mattress, and with one strong hand, he collects you to stand on four again while he kneels right behind you. You know what’s coming next but you are still surprised, hissing in as his large hand slaps your ass and then squeezes your flesh possessively.

“Did you miss this, princess?” his hand squeezes even harder, his middle finger slightly teasing your slit. 

You bite your lips, leading forward and squirming with anticipation for the next one. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asks and grants you another slap, this time making sure not to miss your swollen lips. You gasp, fingers wrapping around the floral linen of the bed. 

“Yes sir.”   

You turn your head, seeing him stare at your mound with sick hunger while the bulge in his trousers appears agonisingly enormous. This is what always scared you about August, how much he was willing to endure to torture others.

“Look away,” he warns you as he notices your stare. You realize the belt is still in his hand and you shiver, uncertain if you want to find out what August planned as your sweet punishment for running away. 

“You thought you can just come into my life and leave?” he asks you, one hand sliding up the curve of your ass. You mean to answer but then you feel movement behind you, and then make the mistake of turning your head to gander at him.   

The first smack takes away your breath. The leather stings against your skin, so harsh that for a moment there you are sure the flesh came off from your behind. You try to be brave, fighting away that cry that begs to escape from your throat. 

You deserve this, after all.

You hear him breathing heavily behind you, prolonging the time of the next smack. You won’t foresee it or get used to the pain too quickly, so the excitement will get you wetter. You try to adjust your breath, your back arching upward and downward when you receive the second smack. 

“Uh!” the whimper you fought to keep leaves your lips, your hand pulls on the bedsheet. The worst part is that you’re throbbing, and not just from the pain. Your petals are swollen red, needy for more and August sees it all, enjoying every second of how pathetic you are.

August unleashes another punishment on your ass and this time you cry is a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your entire body squirms back and forth as if daring him to give you more.

The time in which you receive the fourth, fifth, and sixth smacks are nearly immediate. As you hiss and mewl you can hear August chuckling behind you, his free hand massaging your red aching ass, his fingers sliding up and down between your folds almost clinically to feel the soaking thick wetness that awaits him there. 

“You’re so wet, does this boy of yours make you wet as I do?” 

“No, sir!” your voice cracks into a cry, certain you will receive another smack but instead his hand strokes your body with tenderness that is a complete contrast to what you’ve just gotten used to. August always loved to play hard, he wanted you to feel him, not just his body but the raging storm of emotions inside him. 

But when he is gentle, and he would be occasionally after breaking you apart, it would be the certain touch that’ll make you die out of love. 

His strong digits brush down your sensitive muscles, soothing you, tracing and admiring every curve he missed and yearned for. 

You moan, enjoying his caress, eyes closing dream-like while the mattress shifts again. You sense August as he moves closer, his arm reaching to grab at your torso, pulling you to stand on your weak knees. He keeps you pressed against his chest whispering in your ear how much he missed you while brushing your hair aside. His kisses are amorous, prolonged and wet on your neck, trailing up and down, leaving tingling sensations on your body.

“August…”

You hum in delight, you missed having his name on your tongue even though you’ve been doing that many times while pleasing yourself, ashamed of how even when you ran away, this man still had you captive. 

“Take me, princess,” he demands against your ear in a raspy voice. Somehow you manage to ignore the snake-like sensation of the harness that wraps around your neck. When you realize what he is doing, you’re already leashed and thrown back on your elbows while August kneels behind you, holding one hand around your waist while the other is clasped around the leather strap.

“August!”  

He hushes you sweetly and tugs the strap to warn you, making you grind backwards at his demand. 

“Be my good girl,” he asks darkly and pushes himself all the way inside you, as deep as he can possibly reach. His fist tightly holds the strap, pulling you to him to meet his thrust and slide you on his cock.

Your groans are synced in a delightful unison, both of you overwhelmed by how much you missed each other’s bodies.

August makes you feel whole, not just by his generous length and girth, but because it’s him. Even though he made you cry way too many times that you can count, the ache of not being with him was far, far worse. 

He pulls away from you in an achingly slow rhythm, one hand squeezing your pained cheek while the other slightly loosens on the leash. You already protest at his departure, needing him back inside when his fist clenches again, tugging you back to meet his punishing thrust. 

“You feel... so... good, princess.” his voice is as broken as your heart as he sheaths himself inside you, groaning loudly to let you know how great and tight you are around his cock. “Take it,  take it all.”

You’re a whimpering, feeble thing, completely submissive to his urge. Throwing your head back with your hair falling against your spine, you let him slam into you again. August harnesses you like a bitch, having complete control over you while your heart flutters at both the sensation of his cock splitting you apart and those deep grunts that escape his mouth. You’ve missed everything about him, the scent of his body, the bass of his voice, his ravenous gaze and even his stupid moustache.

You’re in a haze, existence becoming nothing but beating emotions, your united throbbing organs and the friction that continues to tighten and grow. Suddenly, August’s entire weight is sinking onto you. He moves to cover you, one hand pressing on the mattress while the other reaches out to your neck. His fingers lace underneath the leash while he begins to pump into you violently. 

There is wetness on your cheeks, rolling and dripping down your chin beyond your control. August sighs, looking at you and kissing the salty tears away.

“You know, you look really pretty when you cry.” 

Little spasms spiral from your core, right where you are connected, where August is claiming you as his. He grinds you into oblivion, ignoring the resistance of your walls and whispering dirty things in your ear. One by one, the tendrils of pleasure begin to snap and your walls shudder and dance urgently around his cock.

“Did you really think you could just break my heart, princess?!” 

It was all it took to destroy you. You collapse forward, your orgasm is so intense, you crouch down beneath the large man and scream your pleasure into the pillow. Your ass bucks back against him, taking his swollen cock all the way inside and forcing him to lose control and erupt into your body with a shudder and a prolonged grunt.

You feel the warmth of his seed seeping inside you. He likes to grind himself in while filling you with his cum, giving you all he has before pulling out and watching how it trickles down from your battered entrance with some twisted pride.

With his hands around your ribs, he takes you down with him, lying you on your back while he hovers onto you, sweaty and panting. Now begins the part when he takes care of you, soothing kisses and claiming strokes on the wetness of your body.

“Call off the wedding,” he makes one last demand, his lips pressing to your abdomen, trailing down lower in apology for every painful bruise that surely will be there tomorrow. 

You comb the mess of curls on his head between your fingers, watching him with a clenched heart while he lifts your legs and kisses all the way from your curled up knee to your inner thighs. 

“You are coming home with me, and that’s the end of it.”

Closing your eyes, you flex on the mattress with muscles aching from his touch. Your lips part slightly as you whisper your answer into the dark. _______________________________

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

I would like to hear your Zowens headcanons and I will in turn share a few of mine with you.

WHEEEEEE

Ok, so I posted a list a couple weeks back that contained most of mine but I have added a few more in here in the meantime.

So, combined from that list and the new one, here goes...

Headcanons behind cut.

it’s a fine line between love and hate and they’ve been tap dancing on that line for so long it’s been trampled to oblivion

Kevin likes to think he doesn't need Sami in his life and that he would be just fine without him. He especially likes to forcefully repress all memories of the time between Sami's call-up and his own when he was proven painfully wrong.

Sami is loyal to a bloody fault and it’s why he keeps coming back for more.

Kevin is a huge grump. He has always been a grump and he will always be a grump even when he's trying to be nice. The only time he isn’t a grump is when Sami manages to chip away at his shell long enough to let Kev’s heart pour out and, when it does, it only pours out onto Sami.

The exception to this rule is when his heart is pouring out about Sami which is what led to heartfelt promos about missing his best friend and regretting his life choices.

As mithen put it, “Unbridled Obsession”. Fight Forever is in reference to exclusively THEM. Nobody else has or will ever matter.

The sheer magnitude of cosmic OOMPH surrounding them… I once described them as “A yin and yang yo-yo, spinning around each other endlessly while oscillating back and forth between friend and foe and being controlled by the red string of fate.”

Kevin struggles endlessly with his feelings about Sami. His brain and his heart can never seem to agree on where they stand but, in the end, his heart always wins be it for better or worse.

Meanwhile, Sami figured this shit out ages ago and lives in eternal wait for his better half to get it together. This is, again, why he always comes back.

The reason Sami has it figured out was because, despite his better judgement, he fell in love with Kevin almost immediately and decided he would wait as long as it took for Kevin to come around. He's still waiting and, even with his recent turn for the crazy, there's a part of him that he's tried so damn hard to destroy (and failed) that's still waiting.

However, despite figuring out his own feelings and wanting Kevin to reciprocate, Sami is damn near clueless when it comes to receiving the signals from Kevin about it. When the day comes that Sami figures out that Kevin does indeed love him back it will have involved a bullhorn, three billboards, half a dozen hallmark cards, a shouting match, bite marks, a punch in the face, copious amounts of aggressive kissing, and possibly a marriage proposal.

If cheap motel rooms had mouths, our guys would have filed a TON of NDAs by this point. What happens on the road, stays on the road.

That said, if said walls did have mouths and word got out, both Sami and Kevin would claim it meant nothing and was just a product of too much free testosterone and adrenaline in a small space (with only one bed).

They would both be lying.

You always hurt the one you love. [gestures at that recent backstage photograph of Sami’s back]

“I Love You” has no meaning at this point. They’ve said it so many times it’s just part of the script. “J'taime” on the other hand...

The aggressive cheek kissing was a compromise with Vince that replaced Kevin's desired lip locking. Little does Vince know that lip locking is second on their list of "romantic gestures" and that touching foreheads is infinitely more intimate to them.

On a related note, It’s not biting it’s a possessive kiss with teeth and it's number three on the list.

Kevin, for all his grumpiness, looks like an angel while he sleeps.

Sami, meanwhile, looks like an idiot and Kevin finds it both endearing and hilarious and has a ton of photos on his phone which he’s assured Sami he’s deleted (but hasn’t).

The shared selfies we've seen of Happy!Keven and Confused!Sami are just a small sample of the ones he's taken. It's one of Kevin's favorite pastimes to snap photos of Sami off guard and it pisses Sami off to no end. (Kevin doesn't care, he still has them all saved multiple places on his phone and cloud storage, to prevent Sami from breaking into his phone and deleting them.)

Speaking of breaking into phones, they've both given up on device security between the two of them. It doesn't matter what they change their passwords or swipe-locks to, they know each other too damn well for it to work. They've just come to an agreement to respect each others stuff as much as possible.

"As much as possible" does not include refraining from going on each other's social media accounts and going on blocking sprees.

Kevin did indeed stun L*gan P*ul because he hurt Sami and would do so again a million times if he had the chance. Nobody does that to Sami Zayn.

Nobody except Kevin Owens, of course.

Both men have foul mouths but for Kevin, it’s just words. He weaves cuss words in and out of his sentences like friggin punctuation marks. The only time they mean anything is when he gets into the sacre.

Sami, meanwhile, tends to go more for exclamations. He doesn’t pepper his speech with swearwords but, when he’s excited, he’ll go for the biguns in a heartbeat (see his MFER cry over his IC Title Win)

Sami has a penchant for petnames and nicknames. He's been known to full-name Kevin when he's pissed and when he is most angry, he doesn't bother using a name at all. Meanwhile, When Kevin is feeling kind towards Sami, he has a similar thing going on but it usually just involves spewing insults (that may or may not be meant affectionately).

Re: Above - “Idiot (affectionate)”, “Shithead (romantic)”, “Dumbass (soulmate)” and so on.

Kevin Owens has learned to appreciate a good Gyro for the sole purpose that it’s about the only thing he can stand on the menu of the Greek Cafés Sami always used to drag him too.

Kevin is a burger addict. One of the easiest ways to gain his affection is gifting him with a perfectly cooked bacon cheesburger.

One time, one dark, DARK day, he let Sami get the food from the burger joint. He was horrified to discover (immediately, upon the first bite) that Sami had gotten him an impossible burger to try and convince him they tasted the same. Kevin was not happy at ALL and Sami was forced to clean up the mess in the car while Kevin went and got a real cheesburger.

One of the biggest reasons they have remained close for so long is that, long ago, they both decided that the car radio remains OFF. Anything else leads to screaming matches and possibly auto accidents.

If those ridiculous Hallmark movies my mom watches are correct and there is such a thing as a Godwink, then the Montreal Screwjob was God winking so damn hard he nearly blinded himself in one eye.

Kevin secretly loves both Sami’s long hair and his dancing but the world will end before he ever admits either.

Similarly, Sami finds it adorable how Kevin's beard is starting to turn grey but knows better than to say word one about it.

Both men are bi but Kevin is way, WAY more bi than Sami. Like, Sami is straight with a side of Kevinsexual. Kevin is much more… open in his attractions; his heart belongs to Sami but he has never been afraid to mess around with other men as well.

Due to Sami's otherwise straight nature, he's managed to do a really good job lately of convincing himself that he never cared about Kevin in the first place and that his hatred is well placed... you know, like a liar.

Kevin Owens Steen is too violent for his own good. Violence is his primary means of communication and it's how he expresses himself in all things. This is a big reason that he is so hurtful towards Sami, even when he is trying to help him. He doesn't know anything else. There is a reason so many of his kisses come with teeth (as mentioned above).

This is also why... um... er... in the times where they did hook up, Kevin was the one in control. He would never willingly let Sami pin him in the ring why the hell would he let Sami pin him... uh... elsewhere.

That said, if there were anyone who Kevin would be open to a change in position with, it would be Sami. As long as Sami knows full well who's driving the car, Kevin's up for relinquishing control of the radio for a night.

Overall, Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn are both the best and worst things to happen to each other. The best because, for better or for worse, they drive each other to put their all in everything. They bring out the star in each other time and time again and neither one of them would have ever made it to the stage without the other.

They are the worst thing to happen to each other because... well, have you MET them? Enough said.

Sorry this list is so long. I have a ton of thoughts about these two and if I don't wrap this up now, the list will only get longer.

[051093]

let’s make another | v

words: 2534

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

genre: dad!v, fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, i destroyed myself writing this, implied sexual content, just cute shit tbh

description: in which seven and yoosung visit their favorite baby girl — and you and your husband celebrate your fourth anniversary.

my masterlist.

“Lucy!”

You squint at the house, waiting for her head of haphazard hazel hair to appear any second, but it’s so silent that you can hear the summer breeze threading through your hair. Cicadas chirp in the distance.

“Lucy Kim!” You try again, raising your volume to a shout that bounces around the courtyard. “Get down here! Your uncles are here to see you!”

More silence. A laugh sounds from behind you.

“Well, Yoosung,” Seven quips. “I think it’s time we headed back. It was great seeing you, Y/N.”

You give him a stern look and he puts his hands in the air.

“Or not. Wow. I’ve forgotten how well you mastered the motherly glare.”

“If only it worked on my daughter,” you mutter, drumming your fingers against your hips. “Where in the world could she be?”

“Is she playing hide and seek again?” Yoosung laughs. “Do you remember last time I visited? When you couldn’t find her for the longest time and she was in your closet all along?”

“The day I nearly lost my mind, you mean? How could I forget?” You shake your head. “I would’ve called the police if Zen hadn’t heard her evil cackling while he was in the restroom upstairs.”

Seven sighs fondly. “She takes after me so well.”

“Come on. Let’s go inside for now. I’m sure she’ll turn up.” You drape an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders. “I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” Yoosung hums. “How are you? How’s V?”

“We’re good.” The three of you walk up the porch stairs. “I‘m working from home to take care of the little maniac, and he’s been going on photography trips regularly again.”

“That’s right. I heard about that. Doesn’t the Korean Museum of Modern Art—” He stops mid-sentence, amber eyes widening. “—you angel. Is that Ph.D Pepper I see?”

You’ve stepped into your living room, an open, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the area in sunlight. Indeed, the table in the center has been laid out with cans of Seven’s go-to beverage, side by side with freshly baked buns for Yoosung. The boys’ faces brighten upon seeing the refreshments.

“Oh, yes. I ran to the grocery store an hour before you got here.” You gesture. “For Saeyoung, the soda he loves far too much for his own good, and for Yoosung…you like the red bean ones, right? Did I remember correctly?”

Yoosung gives you an elated hug. “Yes! You’re amazing. I complained to Seven the entire way here about being hungry. Thank you thank you thank you.”

They sink into the couch and dig in, satisfied.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Seven says, now with a Ph.D Pepper in hand. “Oh, right. I heard the Korean Museum of Modern Art wants to open an exhibit just for his photographs.”

“Yes. He’s working on that right now,” you say. “The new collection is absolutely beautiful. He thinks it might be his best work yet, and I completely agree.”

“Aw, look at her proud smile,” Yoosung teases through a mouthful of bread, then pouts. “You guys are so cute. It’s been almost four years and I’m still jealous.”

“Hey, what do you mean, jealous?” Seven says, nudging Yoosung with a foot. “Have you forgotten about that girl from the internet cafe already?”

“What?” You say, swiveling towards Yoosung, who’s turned beet red and stopped mid-chew. “There’s a girl, Yoosung?”

“N-no,” he stutters.

“Yes there is!” Seven sings gleefully. “There’s a girl!”

“Oh, I expect to hear all about this,” you say, but you know by the sound of thunderous footsteps that you’re about to be interrupted.

Bright eyes, far too big for her tiny face, appear around the corner. Things you notice: she’s covered in paint. She’s barefoot. Her hair is a mess. And all three and a half feet of her are now hurtling in your direction.

“SEVENY! YOOSUNG!”

“LUCY!” They shout in perfect unison. Both boys immediately forget about the food in hand and jump to their feet.

She barrels into Seven’s arms first, the redhead sweeping her tiny frame into a tight embrace, then leaps into Yoosung’s lap next, small arms thrown around his neck. Her eyes crinkle from her grin and her mouth splits in a delighted shriek as Yoosung gives her sides an affectionate tickle.

You can’t help but mirror her grin. The girl has always had a knack for making those around her smile a little wider, and the members are no exception. She’s close to them all, due to their frequent visits and unwavering affection towards her, but she once whispered to you that Seven and Yoosung were her favorites. You’re not surprised — there’s playful and hilarious Seven who makes her laugh like no other, and there’s Yoosung who’s so sweet and kind that he’s essentially her big brother.

“Mommy!” Lucy says brightly, looking at you from her seat on Yoosung’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hi, sweetie.” You cradle her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “Where’s your dad?”

As if on cue, a second set of footsteps come down the stairs. You lift your head and a fond smile tugs at your lips.

Everything about your husband is familiar by now, from his cerulean eyes to sharp jaw, tall frame and lean build, but you’ll never get tired of the way he looks after spending time with Lucy, that aura of tired bliss. Happiness looks good on him, you think to yourself as he walks towards you. So does that shirt.

“Hey,” you murmur as he curls an arm around your waist.

He dips his head and kisses you in lieu of hello, one that’s short but sweet. The taste of coffee and mint lingers behind on your tongue when he pulls away.

“Sorry we’re late, darling,” he says. “Lucy made a bit of a mess.”

“That’s okay. Painting again?”

“Mhm. It’s all she wants to do recently. I think I’ve created a monster.”

Now that he’s closer, you see that the material of his linen shirt has fallen victim to the paint as well, tiny polka dots of color spattered here and there. “She’s good at it, clearly. I like what she’s done to your shirt.”

“Ah, you do?”

“Yes. You look absolutely dashing.”

He leans in to kiss you once more, this time smiling against your mouth, his voice a deep whisper. “Thank you, my lovely wife.”

“EWW!” Seven shouts from the other end of the room. “Cover your eyes, Lucy. Your parents are being gross.”

You begin to pull away, your face flushed. V presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Hi, hyung!” Yoosung says cheerily.

“Yoosung. Saeyoung,” V greets warmly. “You’re both well, I hope? Thanks for coming all this way to visit us.”

“Lucy,” Yoosung corrects, his arms wound tightly around the little girl. You can’t tell who of the two looks happier. “Came here to visit Lucy.”

“Of course,” V laughs. “Then you’re both staying for dinner. For Lucy.”

“Wheeeeee!” Lucy squeals. “Stay for dinner! Stay for dinner!”

“You know, I actually had a bit of work left…” Seven’s voice trails off into a smile. “But alright. Anything for you, little Luc.”

“Great,” you say. “I’ll be off to cook soon, since it’s almost dinnertime. Care to help, Yoosung?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be right there.”

The two of you head off for the kitchen, and you hear Saeyoung’s bright plea as you walk away.

“Oh, right, V! Will you show me your new collection?”

“It’s not ready — ”

“I don’t care. I want to see!”

“I WANT TO SEE!” Lucy echoes emphatically.

You open the fridge to conceal your smile. It’s like you and V have two kids instead of one.

....

“Mommy, I think I ruined daddy’s shirt today.”

You can’t help but laugh at Lucy’s sudden revelation, lifting the blanket for her. “You got a little paint on it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Lucy crawls into bed, lying down and resting her cheek on the pillow. “But I didn’t mean to!”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It was pretty,” Lucy murmurs sadly. “Can we clean it up again?”

“Yes. Here, I’ll tell you what.” You tug the covers up until they cover her shoulders, then smooth them down so you can see her face. “We’ll clean it off together tomorrow.”

She looks up at you. “We will?”

Even four years later, it blows your mind at times how your adopted daughter could easily pass for your biological child, with long locks the same color as yours and V’s eyes, and your heart swells affectionately at the sight of her glimmering blue irises, suddenly bright with anticipation.

“Yes, my dearest.” You nudge the apple of her cheek with a gentle knuckle. “I promise. But stop worrying about daddy’s shirt and first get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips, and she allows her eyes to fall shut. “Okay.”

“Sweet dreams, little one.” You crouch and lean forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. “I love you so so much.”

“I love you more more more.”

“Nuh-uh. Mommy loves you most.”

“Well, I love you…mostest!” She erupts into a fit of giggles and you can’t help but laugh with her. 

“Good night, silly girl.”

You turn off the lights on your way out, looking over your shoulder; in the glow of the nearby night light, Lucy burrows deeper until she’s reduced to a head of hair and a tiny lump beneath the sheets. There’s a small, loving smile on your face when you leave the room and close the door behind you.

Your room is similarly dimly lit. The source of light is coming from the bathroom and accompanied by the gentle sound of swishing water. You crack the door open. V stands shirtless in front of the mirror, bent over and washing something white in the sink.

“Oh, no,” you lament, and he looks your reflection in the mirror as you walk up behind him. “Lucy wanted to wash that out for you.”

His hands freeze in the sink. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against the toned muscle of his back. “She just told me how bad she felt about getting paint on it.”

He chuckles. “Did she mention her own clothes? They were essentially her makeshift paint palette.”

“No. I was thinking about that, too,” you laugh. “It’s a weird, selfless girl we have.”

“Like mother like daughter.”

He turns around to face you. “You promised her she’d wash the shirt?” You nod. “Maybe we should mess it up again then.”

The sudden proximity (and the planes of golden muscle, the dip of his collarbones, the definition of his arms and neck) leaves you breathless. You run your fingers down his chest, your voice softening. 

“I could think of a few other things we could mess up, handsome.”

The last thing you see is a boyish grin that only appears when you’ve said something suggestive and then his lips are on yours. He movies with the comfort and confidence of someone who knows your lips all too well; in no time, there’s a tongue brushing against your lower lip and an arm snaking around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

The next thing you know, you’re being lowered onto the mattress. Your head hits the pillow and V is on top of you, arms flexing as he holds himself above you, kissing you languidly, heatedly. You groan into his mouth, threading your fingers through his silky locks and tangling them at the nape of his neck, hooking a leg over his hip, wanting him closer, closer —

Through the open window comes the first chime of midnight. 

There’s a church not far away that has a bell tower and sounds off the day’s hours. It’s become a commonality, but there’s something different about it tonight, something that causes you both to hesitate. V breaks the kiss, labored breath tickling your skin as the two of you listen.

Twelve chimes. Midnight.

You turn your head back to V. When you meet his gaze, his eyes are barely visible, but the small amount of moonlight that seeps through the curtains allows you to see how his face has changed entirely. His pupils are still dilated from lust, but his expression has softened. His lips have parted, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, the beautiful aqua of his irises swimming with something you know well. Love. Adoration.

“Is it…?” He breathes.

You lift a hand to his cheek, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

“Happy anniversary, Jihyun,” you whisper.

Though he’s been living contentedly for a long time now, he’s always been quite serious. You know this is due to the ghost of his past that trails him wherever he goes; he still dreams of his mother, and often reminisces on the deep depression he fell into after Rika’s alleged suicide. The memories have undoubtedly taken their toll on him, even after all this time.

But there are rare moments when he actually looks his age, and this is one of them: when the smile that breaks across his face is, in one word, happy, so happy.

His arms wind around your waist as he leans in, dusting a kiss to your jaw, then your collarbone, where he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Four, is it?” He whispers.

“Four,” you say.

A few moments pass, the only sounds being his gentle breathing and the rhythmic beat of your pulse in your ears. And the shift of fabric as he lowers himself onto the mattress beside you, his arms circling around your waist.

“Four years,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. “You know, I’m glad I have photography in my life again, as well as the friendship and trust of the RFA members, and there’s no doubt those things make me happy, but I have to be honest with myself here…you’re the reason. For all the happiness, all the love. My heart and my soul have been so at peace for so long because I’ve had you by my side.

“You and Lucy have made me the luckiest man in the world.” His voice drops, his words so quiet you only just make them out. “Thank you for coming into my life four years ago, my angel. I love you endlessly.”

You graze a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up so you can kiss him. This time is sweet, deep, and grateful, if the grin etched on your lips is any indication.

“And I,” you say, pulling back to wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, to rest your forehead against his, “love you too, Jihyun. To the ends of the solar system and back.”

He gazes into your eyes a few moments more, and then the devilish smile is back and he’s leaning in to press a trail of kisses down your neck. You arch into him, barely hearing him over the sound of your own moan.

“Fuck it,” are his words. “Let’s make Lucy a baby sibling.”

[aelaer]

Author Interview Tag

Tagged by @amethyst-noir a week or two ago, thank you!

Name: Aelaer. Laer for short.

Fandoms: LOTR, Doctor Strange (and the MCU by osmosis) are the two big ones. The former will be a constant in life; the latter has been going on and off since late 2016.

Where you post: I used to post on both ff.net and AO3, but now it's exclusively AO3 due to lack of feedback on ff.net for the Avengers category. I post Tumblr prompt posts on said site first, before moving them to AO3 within a few weeks/months (just... depending on stuff).

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Post 2016, it's still "Strange in a Strange Land", funny enough (The LOTR/DS crossover). Maybe if I get another modern story to 10 chapters, it'll get near those hits/kudos. Crosssssing fingers!

Favorite story you’ve written so far: I don't tend to have one favorite. I'm fond of most of my stories for one reason or another. Generally speaking I can reread all of them because I generally enjoy them - I write what I want to read. (And I'll reread my older stuff sometimes to try to motivate myself to write.)

Fic you were nervous to post: I was a little nervous about "Untitled" due to its very serious topics about depression and attempted suicide. I was similarly a bit nervous about fic #25 - Humiliation for Whumptober because the narrator/antagonist references real world horrors in order to bring down and demotivate Stephen. But generally speaking, I pad these stories with so many warnings that if people stumble into it, I don't feel bad if someone didn't heed the warnings. If I ever purposefully tagged "chose not to use warnings", I'd probably warn on that too lmao.

How you choose your titles: Amy wrote in her answer that she has random post-it notes to lyrics she'd like to write to. I'm somewhat the opposite - I created a 4,000 word document with all my favorite lyrics from all my favorite bands and then choose from there for chapter/one-shot titles. I've been doing this for the last uh, year or so. Sometimes a lyric doesn't work out and I choose something that works thematically instead. The latter is how I came up with the title of #4 in the Earth-197320 series - which is gonna be called Illuminating the Shadows (bringing back an echo to the first story in the series and also going well with the chapter titles theme, which are all lyrics from one song that I just addddoooorrrreee). But the chapter titles, all lyrics from one of my favorite songs.

Do you outline: Yes, even one shots tend to get mini outlines. Sometimes it doesn't happen, but it's more rare for me to write in order than it is out of order, or without a sketch of what's to come. The last multi-chapter fic to actually be written in order was the LOTR/DS crossover; all others since have been out of order.

Complete: A lot. It was over 60 on AO3. If I ever commit to revamping my old LOTR one shots surrounding Aragorn, that number is only going to get astronomical. (It is something I have been considering on and off this year.)

In progress: Ughhhh more than I like. Four or five prompt one-shots and two active multi-chaptered stories. And one very long term project in the back-burner.

Coming soon/not yet started: The other half of my tumblr prompts. Getting through those is my next project after this story’s written out.

Do you accept prompts: Yes. It is just very likely it will take over a year for me to get to it. I'm doing my darnedest to get through more of the 2019 batch before the end of the year, but I may not reach that goal just because all of my writing effort has been towards Illuminating the Shadows the last few weeks.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: Sequel #4, aka Illuminating the Shadows. It's currently at 23.5k and is the pivotal tale in the series when it comes to the emotional aspects of Tony and Stephen and their growing bond. I really hope I can do what I'm envisioning justice. The difficulty lies within the short time frame the story takes place, so I'm just hoping that it feels real, even if it is over a month rather than a year. *wrings hands* (But good news, I had a draft of this survey from about 2 weeks ago waiting on my phone for a bit and it was ‘just over 10k’ then, so progress *is* being made! And by the time this scheduled post comes out, it’ll be even further along! Wheeeeee!) (and post update it's now 30k since less than a week ago wheeeee)

Upcoming story you are most excited about: Uh, see above. Hopefully I'll be able to do it justice.

Thanks for reading!

Tagging: The writers who replied a couple weeks back! @an-odd-idea @dragonnan and @lifeofroos (though poke me if you’re also a writer who likes to get tagged in stuff).

[erissa002]

Just a cute little Late Halloween story with my oc Naira going trick or treating!

The nights were starting to get colder, crisp leaves falling in colorful array from the trees. Naira had spent the day looking for more blankets to add to her slowly growing pile, preparing for the cold winter snow. She finished folding them all and crawled out of her house, a makeshift lean-to of old boxes and scraps constructed in a back alley away from the road. Humming a tune she had heard while looking around the shops earlier, Naira straightened up her house. "The leg bone connect to..... hips bone..... hips bone connect to back bones.... back is connected to..... um.... to all bones! Shaky the skelety boooones!” She sang out happily, if off tune, then glanced up as a group walked past the alley entry, chatting and laughing. Naira fell silent and pulled back out of sight, poking her head out to watch. The people all had colorful clothes on and the many children held bags. What are they doing? Where are they all going? Maybe its a parade! I like parades. Naira’s curiosity won out, and she dropped what was in her hands, scurrying after the group that had disappeared around the corner.

Naira followed behind the gaggle of children for a while, stopping and waiting by the street as the group approached a house. The yard was all covered in graves, spiders, skeletons, and other spooky things that made Naira nervous and she didn't want to get to close. She had seen scary things showing up all over the place over the past few weeks, and it made her nervous to go out. But these people didn't seem worried or scared at all as they walked up and knocked on the door. “Trick or treat!!!” Naira jumped as the kids yelled out when the door swung open, but the big person that opened it just laughed and started handing things outs, dropping small items into eagerly raised bags and hands. What are those? Trick or treat? I like treats... But not tricks. Are they... Giving treats? Naira perked up at the thought, but hesitated. Treats cost money, and she didn't have that. Did the big people in the group give money? She couldn't remember seeing that, but she might have missed it.

Ducking behind a bush quickly, Naira hid from the group as they came down the walk to the side walk again. She watched from her hiding spot as the Children ran down to the next house. Just as she was about to step out to follow them she heard more talking from behind her, so Naira stayed hidden in her bush as they passed. There are more kids! Are... They going to do it too? Oooh! I can watch and see if they're money treats! Very pleased with her idea, Naira stayed hidden and watched the smaller group as they approached and completed the same steps. Knock. "Trick or treat!" Little things put in bags. Leave to next house. No money? She hadn't seen any. Which meant... “I can get some!” Naira squealed excitedly, then looked around to make sure no one had heard her. She waited a minute to make sure no one else walked by then scampered out of the bush and slowly made her way past the scary things in the yard, expecting them to jump out at her any moment, hugging herself protectively and ready to run any second. Only relaxing when she reached the porch, Naira tucked a lose strand of her thick wavy black hair behind her ear, raising a small hand to knock softly on the door. She nervously bit her lip as she tensly waited the few quiet moments before the door opened. In the door way was a middle aged couple, and Naira stared up at them with her mouth opening and closing like a little fish as she tried to remember what to say. “..........treat?” She finally squeaked out. The woman smiled and held out a bowl as the man chuckled, "Of course dear! Which would you like?" Naira’s eyes widened at the amount of little packages in the bowl, pointing to a larger red one. The man pulled it out and looked for a bag before just setting it in Nairas waiting hands. “There you go! Happy Halloween!" Naira stared with huge silver eyes at the candy she held protectively in both her hands, then looked up with an excited grin. "Thank you!” She waved at the two and scurried off the porch, practically running to the next house she had seen the groups go to. Again she snuck past the spooky things in the grass, then knocked a little more confidently on this door. When the young man opened it and looked out, Naira happily shouted out the password to get a treat. "Trick or treat!" He didn't say much, looking down at his phone as he grabbed a handful of candy from a basket and dropped them into her waiting hands. "There go. Have fun." With that he closed the door, missing Naira's elated expression. She happily giggled with her handful of candy, skipping down to the next house and doing it again. The small girl in a slightly raggedy sweater and all alone did get a few questioning looks, but all wished Naira a happy Halloween and got a smile out of her childish enthusiasm and excitement at each treat she received.

Her hands were starting to get full as she skipped up to the next house on the block, knocking and waiting patently for the door to open. A little girl stood there, witch hat balanced precariously on her head. Before Naira could say the words to get a treat, the girl spoke up. "What are you?" Naira looked at the girl, confused. "Uh... I'm Naira...?" They stared blankly at each other for a moment before the girl clarified. "What are you dressed up as? I'm a witch!" she claimed, pointing to her hat. Dressed up as? Am... I supposed to be? Thinking about it, maybe that's what all the others had been wearing! Costumes! Before Naira could answer, a woman came to the door and handed Naira a candy, quietly scolding her daughter about answering the door alone. Naira thanked them, and went back to the sidewalk. She walked slowly as she pondered what she had just learned. A costume? Should I find one? But what would I be? Maybe I can find one. Oh! I know! Naira turned and sped back to her alley, careful not to drop any of her precious treats. Crawling into her box fort, Naira tucked the candy under her pillow then dug around for a specific blanket she had found a few days ago. She tied two of the ends around her shoulders, grinning happily. She grabbed a smaller handkerchief to use as a Bag then hurried out to continue her trick or treating.

Naira skipped down the street, waving at those she saw and flapping the black blanket tied around her. Running up to a house she hadn't been to before, she knocked and waited, hopping excitedly and waving her “wings” when the door opened. "Trick or treat! I'm a bat!" Naira exclaimed to the slightly surprised old man standing there, happily flapping at him. He chuckled and nodded. "I can see. You make a very nice bat." Naira squeaked joyfully, holding her bag up as the gentleman waved her closer to get some treats, grinning excitedly at the chocolate he dropped in. "There you go little bat. Happy Halloween!" He waved to Naira as she pretended to fly down the path to the next house.

Naira spent the next while cheerfully getting free treats, suprised and over joyed at all the food she was getting in one day. She was starting to get tired as the sun began to set, night chill starting to settle in. Deciding she had plenty of treats from the surprising trick or treat game, Naira started back to her home, singing a made up song to herself again. "Happy Halloweens! Happy candies! Trick and treat gets me sweets! Yummy yummy treats! Bat bat go flap flap, wheeeeee!” Holding her blanket wings out to the side she zoomed down the sidewalk, but slowed when she saw a small figure sitting on the curb. It was a little boy, dressed like a turtle and hugging a purple pumpkin bucket. Naira slowly approached him, realizing that he was crying softly. She hesitantly sat next to him and spoke quietly. "Hi. Are you okay?" The boy looked up, sniffling and wiping at his runny nose. "I-I lost m-my m... M-mommy." He whimpered. “Oh. I' m sorry. But its okay! I'm sure she'll find you! I can wait with you if you want?" Naira offered. When the boy nodded quietly she scooted a little closer and put her blanket wings around him to keep him warm. “I'm Naira! Nice to meet you. Did you go trick or treating for candy to?” The boy nodded and showed her his bucket that had a few pieces of candy in it. “I'm Liam. I only got a-a little c-candy."

"Do you want some of mine?" Naira reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of her precious treats, dumping it in his bucket. Liam looked up in surprise and a smile crept over his face. "Thanks! I like your blanket. Its warm." Naira giggled, waving the half not wrapped around Liam. "Thanks! I'm a bat. What are you?" Liam held up his toy sword and swished it in the air. “I'm a ninja turtle!" “ Oh! That's cool! I like your sword, it looks fun." Liam was about to answer when they heard a call from a bit away. "Oh! That's mom!" Liam jumped up, grabbing Naira’s hand and tugging her along as he ran towards the voice. "Mommy! I'm here! I made a friend, she shared her candy with me!" Naira scurried after him, waving at the woman he ran to. "Liam! Where where you? I was worried, are you okay? Who's this?" She picked Liam up and looked at Naira with a smile. "Where are your parents dear? It's getting dark." Naira smiled at the nice lady and pointed down the street towards the alley she lived in. "I'm Naira! And its okay, I live over there, I'm going home now." Naira waved at her new friend Liam and turned to go now that he had found his mom. "Happy Halloween! bye bye Liam!"

Naira skipped home, happy she had been able to help her friend feel better and happy about the treats she had gotten. All the spooky stuff seemed less scary now, and she went past them with out any fear. She hugged her blanket close as the night chill crept in, crawling into her box fort and dumping the new treats with the others in her little stash. Crawling into her little pile of blankets Naira let out a yawn and curled up. She smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep “Happy Halloweens." she mumbled before contentedly letting the warm blankets claim her.

[going-full-shmoo]

Give me more Tyson Jost fluff please!

Oh hun, I’ve got you covered. I had this idea right after I wrote those hc’s about him being a dad, and it was too cute not to write about. Prepare yourself for more Dad Josty because here it comes.

REQUEST HERE / RULES 

ok so when I say that he is an involved dad, I’m not joking

if he even gets the feeling that you are tired and need a break, he swoops in ready for Dad duty

having a new baby in the house was hard enough on the both of you, dealing with this big life change

but he took it in stride, and he made sure that neither of you felt too tired or overworked

this really hit you one random morning

you both had been up into the wee hours of the morning taking care of the little one, who unfortunately hadn’t been feeling well

there were a lot of tears, not just from the little one, which is when Tyson sent you to bed to get some rest and take a break

you couldn’t tell if he had even come back to bed, but you were sure that at some point he had gotten some rest

the next morning, you woke up to the sun shining through your windows instead of the usual hungry cries from the baby monitor

it was unusually quiet in the house, actually, which made you a little nervous

you rubbed your eyes and made your way out into the house to see what was going on

you checked in the baby’s room to find it empty

thats when you heard some rustling sounds from in the kitchen area

you slowly walked in to see Tyson carefully preparing breakfast, no shirt on, the baby strapped to his chest in the baby carrier completely asleep

and he was bouncing gently, rocking from side to side, using a whispered tone to not wake the baby and keep them asleep, just talking about nothing in particular

he already knew that the little one loved to be bounced in order to calm them down, and he did it with ease as you watched him move around

the sight of him was enough to make your heart melt

you coughed to make your presence known, causing him to jump a little and immediately check to see if that woke the baby

“jesus you scared me,” he sighs. “We wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed to say sorry for keeping you up so late”

you knew by “we” he meant the baby too, which was just too cute for words

“well consider me surprised” you whisper smile. “Did you get any rest last night?”

“not a whole lot, but thankfully the glider is just a little bit comfortable. Finally got them to sleep for a bit after I strapped them in” he whispered back

“thats because they know that their amazing daddy is always there to take care of them” you give Tyson a kiss. “Need any help?”

“No, I got it. You go back to bed for a little bit, we’ll be in as soon as we’re done”

you nod, give him one last kiss, before heading back to the bedroom

that day was just the start of many other moments where he’d be in charge of the baby carrier

you knew they meant the world to him, and this was his favorite way to just keep them close to him

not to mention that he learned really quickly how cute you thought it was, and he was determined to still make your heart melt any chance he got

despite all the fear when the little one first came into your lives, he continued to show you every day that he was going to be a fantastic dad

EXTRA HEADCANON BECAUSE I HAD AN IDEA!

So, you know that Tyson still likes keeping fit during the offseason, and so you naturally had a lot of training things around the house that he used

when the little one came into your lives, you had to keep that put away to make sure nothing would accidentally hurt them

let me tell you, baby locks are very difficult to figure out, even for adults

so one day when he went to go do a workout while looking after your little one, who was almost a year old at this point, he found himself a victim of the confusing baby lock

he was about to give it up and just call it a day, when an idea popped into his head

and that, is how the baby became part of his workout regimen (CAREFULLY, OBVIOUSLY)

you came home that afternoon to see your husband doing squats with the baby in his arms, just giggling away

every time he came back up he would give them a little toss in the air with a “WHEEEEEE” before catching them and doing another squat

you secretly got your phone out to film the moment, and it became one of your favorites to look at when you missed him

and of course, he would tell you all about the amazing workout he got that day, with tummy time planks, airplane bench presses, and of course, the squats

soon, it would become a family workout as well, with you joining in on the fun as well

It’s too cute and I need to stop before I lose myself in the feels

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

“Got nothing better to do, so I watched some VR playthroughs of “Rhombus of Ruin” in order to catch what Monstroboto says during his battle.

Please note that some of these were not caught by the subtitles, so maybe there’s some doubles or wrong words. Also, considering the casuality of these quotes, maybe this is not the complete list. If you happen to know more of them, please feel free to add them. ^^

“Rub-a-dub-dub! Who’s in my tub?”

“Say hi to Mr. Duckie!”

“Who hurt Duckie?”

“Quack quack!”

“Not fair!”

“Wheeeeee!”

“Duckie duckie!”

“Hmmmmph!”

“Fun!”

“Don’t hurt Duckie!”

“Here you go!”

“I’ll splash you to pieces!”

“Rrrrrrr!”

“You hurt him!”

“Duckie wants to play!”

“My brains!”

“Not friend!”

“Rub-a-dub-dub!”

“Wash behind your ears!”

“Time to clean up!”

“My boat!”

“Toot toot!”

“Boat go boom!”

“Wash your mouth out!”

“Duckie wuckie!”

“Toy boat! Toy boat! Toy boat!”

“Scrub a rub-dub!”

“Bad dirty baby!”

“Boat fight!”

“Ehehehehe! Bubbles!”

“Catch!”

“Cheater!”

“Look!”

“Stop!”

“Duckie!”

“You hurt Duckie!”

“Bad Duckie!”

“Play!”

“Don’t waste soap!”

“Play boat!”

“Catch Duckie!”

“Sutsy wutsy!”

“Ready to go bye bye?”

“Coo-coo!”

“Hey!”

“Why?”

“Rubber Duckie!”

“Big wave is coming!”

“Where’d he go?”

*Raspberry*

“Not ticklish!”

“Cleeeeean”

“I’m gonna sink that boat!”

“Noooo! Baaaad!”

“Can’t hurt my brains!”

“Sooooowwyyyyy!”

*there’s different sound lines for his laughters, and in one of his audio files he even cries*

[fiannalover]

For the fanfic ask game: 1, 2, 4, 5, 13, 32, 35

wheeeeee ALRIGHT LET’S GO

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Hum... 4, maybe, at my best. I feel I need to diversify a bit more, but I do nothing if not write what I love, so

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

thinks thinks thinks I just... like writing these characters I like, I guess. Wanna see just a bit more of them, catering to me

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Kinoko Nasu is the big one, really. Even if I only write Fate fic, like, once a semester, I think it is Kinda Blatant that I’m a nasuverse stan, at times.

Luke Pearson, Hilda’s author, is also a bit here, too.

When it comes to fanfic writers, Ashes of the Past/MLP Loops’ Saphroneth and Fragments of Chaldea’s GhostXavier were like, HUGE, formative influences on my writing, tbh. I’m glad I met their stories.

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

Of Rulers and Death! Because good lord, I spent so many braincells and effort on this fic and holy fuck, I actually finished it???? Thank you for being such a great motivator, FEH’s shitty writing. It’s a bit messy at times, because I really was dragging myself into finishing it, but I’m happy it’s here.

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Fate! Life with the Pendragons, it was.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Local dying girl kins dragon God

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

NSFW Fic comments are either the best or the worst comment I ever got, idk what it is, some people comment while horny, and some people comment while Horny, and these vibes are atrocious, but hey what can you do, the good comments make it worth it.

[blue-tongue]

Examining the Group Dynamic of the Seven

      I feel like I see a lot of posts complaining about the lack of friendship between the various seven members. Since I have an ungodly about of time on my hands, I’ve taken it upon myself to take a deep dive into all of the friendships between them. 

       Before anything, I should note- there are seven main characters in this series- Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, and Hazel. That means you have twenty one relationships you have to develop (each of the seven times each of their viewpoint on the other six divided by two to make the relationship go both ways). 

I’m going to breakdown how their relationships develop book by book-

1) The Lost Hero (TLH)- POVs: Jason, Piper, Leo

Percy and Annabeth- well developed from the previous series.

Jason and Piper- complicated as frick. Since Hera just happened to plant fake memories of their relationship in Piper’s head, there’s this awkward one-sided relationship going on while they have crushes on each other. Percabeth started on a clean slate and had four years to slowly come together. Jiper is condensed into one book/quest, meaning that their relationship has less time to develop.

Jason and Leo- Best friends. Similar Percy/Grover in the sense that Jason is supposed to be the HeroTM and Leo doesn’t fit the archetype as much.

Piper and Leo- Sibling-esque friendship.

Piper and Annabeth- Beginning a best friend relationship

Jason and Annabeth/ Leo and Annabeth- Acquaintances I guess? They have to work together? They might call each other friends but only in the vaguest sense of the word? They’re work colleagues?

2) Son of Neptune (SoN)- POVs: Percy, Hazel, Frank

Percy and Hazel- Big brother/ protective friendship. Hazel literally thought Percy was a god when they first met. It should be noted that Percy sees the chemistry between Hazel and Frank and starts ashipping like there’s no frigging tomorrow.

Percy and Frank- Friends. Percy sees Frank’s potential besides his deep insecurities. Percy serves as the older, more experienced (although he can’t remember his experiences) one. Again, Percy is a huge Frazel shipper. 

Hazel and Frank- Everything that is good and pure in this world.

3) Mark of Athena (MoA)- POVs: Annabeth, Percy, Piper, Leo

The group is finally together! Yeehaw!

Things that happened in the time jump between TLH and MoA:

Piper and Annabeth- Best friends

Piper and Jason- Have a stabler relationship. Congrats on that.

Things that happened in the book:

Percy and Annabeth- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I can’t describe it better than this)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Percy and Jason- BROS. Little bit competitive because they’re both alphas, but BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS

Leo and Hazel- Long sigh. Leo is a carbon copy of Hazel’s ex (from seventy years ago) and Leo’s like oh. Hazel’s kinda pretty. I mean she has a boyfriend sure I respect that but still. Pretty. (Turns out she’s his great grandpa’s girlfriend. wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.)

Leo and Frank- They start of great. Frank is paralyzed with fear that Leo’s going to steal his girlfriend and then murder him with fire. Leo spends the entire book teasing Frank without realizing this. Yey.

Annabeth and Frank- The have one scene together where Annabeth’s like “Aw look at this adorable manchild” and that’s pretty much it. 

Leo and Percy- Leo’s kinda disappointed that Percy’s so basic. Percy’s big brother instinct kicks in and he’s like “Listen here lil’ punk *jabs finger into Leo’s chest* if you lay one hand on Hazel and break up this pure relationship I SWEAR TO THE GODS-”

Piper and Percy- Piper’s kinda disappointed that Percy’s so basic. Percy’s like okay. Her. My girlfriend’s friend. We’re work colleagues. She’s okay I guess. 

Also as a side note:

Annabeth thinks Nico has a crush on her 

4) House of Hades (HoH)- POVs: Hazel, Annabeth, Leo, Percy, Frank, Jason (literally everyone except Piper WOW)

Percy and Annabeth- Surviving through Tartarus. There’s So Much Development To Their Relationship. Downside being Dark! Percy. Which isn’t really acknowledged as much as it should be. Like do they ever really talk heart to heart about it? No?

Leo and Hazel- Leo gets a girlfriend so he stops his weird soft pining @ Hazel. 

Leo and Frank- Frank’s not scared of Leo stealing his girlfriend and then murdering him with fire because he now has a ^girlfriend^ and Leo gave him a fire-proof pouch thing for his stick. 

Hazel and Frank- Frank’s hot now so... yeah!

Leo and Percy- .....So we’ve both on Calypso’s Island, huh? 

Piper and Hazel- They... apparently practice sword fighting? I mean, it’s not much but it’s something? Points for that?

Jason and Frank- They bond over being praetor/ roman although WE DON’T GET TO SEE THEM ACTUALLY HAVE THAT CONVERSATION DO WE RICK? 

Bonus relationships:

It should be noted that although I love Nico, he really isn’t one of the seven. I think Rick originally intended him to be a secondary character like he was in the first series, but then he became a main character. This wouldn’t be a problem except Rick is having enough trouble juggling the seven on their own.

Nico and Percy- SO SOMEONE HAS A CRUSH (although honestly wow doesn’t have a crush on Percy at this point). Their relationship is still strained from the last series.

Jason and Nico- Jason is basically Nico’s supportive Straight AllyTM/ Life Coach/ Mom who wants to grab Nico by the Ramones t-shirt, shake him a bit, tell him that there there are millions of queer kids in the world finding love everyday, that he’s his own worst enemy, he needs to get away from the underworld, go outside, make some friends, stop hating Percy, get some hobbies and then who knows maybe he’ll develop a disposition that others find more approachable (yes this is Contrapoints reference thank you for noticing)

5) Blood of Olympus (BoO)- POVs: Jason, Reyna, Leo, Nico, Piper (Note that Percy, Annabeth, Frank, and Hazel are not included >:((((()

Jason and Piper- Their relationship is developed a little bit. They work together the most out of all of the seven to defeat Gaia. They say I love you to each other at the end of the book (*represses all my knowledge of Trials of Apollo for the sake of this post*) Except for Leo’s “death”, everything’s great! 

Percy and Annabeth- Everything’s fine. Percy’s fine. Percy doesn’t have a dark side. Nope. “If I can’t drown neither can my pancakes!” Haha. Ha. Funny. 

Piper and Annabeth-  Let me cup your face, pull you forward until our foreheads are touching, and feel your rapid pulse as I whisper softly, “Fear can’t be reasoned with. Neither can hate. They’re like love. Stop thinking about it. Just feel. Let it scare you. Trust that it’ll be okay anyway”~

Leo and Percy- They address the Calypso thing (in the middle of a battle). So. You know. They’re on okay terms I guess?

Piper and Frank- Frank goes and “Brings the family full circle” offscreen and he’s like ‘yeah they didn’t like me because I’m not white’ and Piper’s like ‘well white people do suck sometimes’

Leo and Hazel/Frank- Oh hi I know we just resolved the awkwardness between us a few seconds ago but can collude with me on this top secret plan in which I’ll die and then maybe (if we play are cards right) come back to life? 

Bonus relationships:

Hazel and Nico: They’re cute siblings and I love them

Reyna and Nico: They’re cute adoptive siblings that have shared trauma and I love them.

Nico and Percy: Nico comes out. Percy’s confused because he doesn’t understand how internalized homophobia works (Wait... but you hated me... but then... you liked me this whole time??? What?????)

Nico and Annabeth: Oh I guess you didn’t have a crush on me then. Well. Good for you anyway *high five*

Nico and Will: SOLANGELO!!!!!  *rainbow flags*

Nico and Jason: Aw Jason’s so proud of him. 

Reyna and Piper: Reyna! Doesn’t! Need! A! Man! To! Be! Happy! She Has Friends! And Two Camps! They can get some sleep now! Wheeeeee!

In Conclusion, the Underdeveloped Relationships Are:

Percy, Piper, & Leo BROTP

Annabeth and Hazel

Piper and Hazel

Annabeth and Jason

Annabeth and Leo

Jason and Frank

Jason and Hazel

Piper and Frank

       All in all of the underdeveloped dynamics, you’re really left to believe that they’re just acquaintances fighting in the same war together. And I honestly believe that Rick just gave himself too many characters to work with. That, and tacking on two major characters in the end of the second to last book made a lot of the developments of Blood of Olympus feel rushed and weak. We call them the Seven, but honestly, it’s really the Nine. Part of what I really enjoy about this fandom is that people fill in the gaps and try to make all the interconnected friendships within the nine main characters really strong.

  In PJO, there was only one POV- Percy’s- and each book consisted of a core group of three or four characters going on one major quest together. The simplicity of both the narrative and group dynamic made developing character relationships more straight forward. Although the alternating POVs in HoO allows for more complex characterization and group dynamics, it’s a hard ship (pun intended) to handle.  The structure of a core group of three characters going on one major quest continues in TLH and SoN, but dissolves when all the characters come together in MoA. The sheer number of main characters mean that characters and character relationships get starved of development. Riordan has himself said that although he loved all his characters, having he regretted having so many. 

[landofstarsandmandrakes]

a song for each class and aspect!

ASPECT:

Breath: Awake (Tycho) (This song gives me all the Breath vibes. All of them. Thank you for the vibes, Tycho.)

Life: City of Tears (Christopher Larkin) (This song will heal you, just like Life-bound will. Or, they’re supposed to.)

Light: Debutante (65daysofstatic) (WHEEE ADVENTURE)

Time: Megalovania (Toby Fox) (Hear me out. Time players are walking memes.)

Heart: Dance Parties Mechanized (65daysofstatic) (it’s in all of you, no fighting it.)

Rage: Chapter 5: Rijeka (Disparition) (scary)

Blood: Chapter 2: The Old Woman (Joshua van Tassel) (did you think i was just going to pour blood into your ears?????????? lol not this time)

Doom: Ditmas (Disparition) (it just… Sounds Like Doom. In a good, slightly melancholy sorta way)

Void: The Ballad of Fiedler and Mundt (Disparition) (The connection to “Mostly void, partially stars” WTNV is too good to resist.)

Space: Escape Velocity (65daysofstatic) (peaceful and expansive, like the night sky or the sentient oatmeal of greenwich)

Mind: Supermoon (65daysofstatic) (because vibes)

Hope: Chapter 4: Legacy (Joshua van Tassel) (Angels. Prophecies. Awesomeness. This is the song.)

CLASS:

Maid: Child (Todd Baker) (A jazzy and cool song to fit three jazzy and cool characters.)

Sylph: The Spirit Tree (Gareth Coker) (I know very little about this song’s context in the game, but it just seemed to fit.)

Knight: Hole (65daysofstatic) (if you think about it that is a long time for a static hole. i couldn’t keep my hole static for that long. what no why did your mind go there ew)

Page: El Dorado (TSFH) (because PAGES CAN DO ANYTHING! and because THEY ARE GOOD! and PERFECT! PAGES!!!!!!!!!!)

Seer: Jandoubi (Disparition) (Yes.)

Mage: Hornet (Christopher Larkin) (this is a song, not a hornet. nothing will sting you while you listen to this. you can’t prove anything.)

Heir: Heart of Courage (TSFH) (Destinies. The Big Destinies. This song is a Largeness of Destinies.)

Witch: Glider (Tycho) (YES.)

Thief: Crystallize (Lindsey Sterling) (I asked the thieves what song they hated the most.)

Rogue: Glass Tiger (Disparition) (do not drop this tiger, for obvious reasons)

Prince: This Cat is a Landmine (65daysofstatic) (this will probably make you go “woah” and then i will go “it’s spelled whoa” and then i will dispassionately slit your throat and it will not be my fault)

Bard: I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood (65daysofstatic) (time signatures are wasted on your lot, pun intended)

LUNAR SWAY:

Prospit: Radio Protector (65daysofstatic) (WHEEEEE IT’S DESERT BLUFFS)

Dual Dreamer: Part 2 (grej) (my fave lyric is AHAHAHAHAHA.)

Derse: Drove Through Ghosts to Get Here (65daysofstatic) (WHEEEE TIME TO GET POSSESSED AND OR STABBED)

SIGN CLASS:

Burgundy: Asimov (65daysofstatic) (adventrutrerere)

Bronze: Lessons & Learnings (Todd Baker) (ahhhhhhhh relax nice)

Gold: Impossible Worlds (Todd Baker) (this is one of my favorite songs so i hope you appreciate it, moldy lemon pests. i am a saint)

Lime/Mutant: Chapter 7: Sacrifice (Joshua van Tassel) (it is edgely)

Olive: Fungal Wastes (Christopher Larkin) (did you think i was going to put an olive in your ear? why would i? there already is one)

Jade: Gamelan Rain Melody (Todd Baker) (doubt i need to justify this one)

Teal: After Dinner Entertainment (DoubleTooth) (putting the fun in being funbrutally exefuncuted)

Hemocyanin: Victory (TSFH) (they are like that though. in a bad way. also that is the blood caste’s name now)

Indigo: Birthrite (Joshua van Tassel) (its about squids mating dont you dare tell me that is not an indigoblood thing. but actually i just felt it captured the idea of diverse interests)

Purple: End of the World Sun (65daysofstatic) (the word of the day: baleful. word of the blood?)

Violet: For Tomorrow (McCoy Tyner) (we are just that weird and cool)

Fuchsia: Main Theme (Gareth Coker) (the one from Ori and the Will of the Wisps, to be clear) (WHEEEEEE TIME TO BECOME A GHOST HAUNTING THE WOODS ABOUT WHOM PEOPLE SPEAK ONLY IN TERRIFIED WHISPERS)

[angelteyam]

Rewrite the Stars, Part 2 (p.p.)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Super!OC

Summary: Charlie starts to get the butterflies for a certain teenage spider-boy, but when a series of events rocks her world, Peter has to do everything he can to try and save her. 

Word Count: 3,050

Warnings:  Major character death, mentions of human remains, Endgame spoilers (derp), panic attacks/anxiety, mentions of depression, nightmares, blood/cuts, bruising, vomit, and just a whole lot of angst

A/N: Wheeeeee behold the beginnings of a budding romance mixed with a whole gosh darn pile of angst courtesy of me!! Thank you again a bajillion times to @parrkerspeters for helping me with this story - you’ve made it a thousand billion times better already (and thank you for helping me out with a certain scene hehe). I love you all, and I hope you are starting to enjoy Charlie as much as I am!! 

--

Peter never stopped getting on Charlie’s every last nerve.

He was constantly crashing into things wherever he went, leaving what looked like a tornado behind. Pepper stopped decorating the compound with her beloved house plants, because she would always find them in a broken mess on the floor, Peter stumbling an apology above them. When Charlie tried to go up to the roof and read in peace, she would sigh as she heard the tell-tale shwip of Peter’s web shooters. Wherever she went, it wasn’t long before she heard Peter chattering away in her ear.

But anything was better than being alone.

Most of the time, Charlie didn’t even know what the hell he was talking about. And he had awful timing. Eventually, she would pause whenever she got to the good part in one of her books. Like clockwork, Peter would appear beside her, muttering on about something she didn’t understand, and ruining the best part of the story.

But every time, he’d stop for just a moment and peek his head over, his eyes squinting at the words on the pages in Charlie’s lap. And every time, the same phrase would leave his lips.

“What are you reading?”

Charlie would pause, looking up into his eyes, scanning them to see if he actually wanted to know. And every time her bright blue eyes met with his, the answer was always the same.

Tell me.

Somehow, and despite her initial resistance, Charlie and Peter became attached at the hip.

It was nice to have someone the exact same age to wander around the compound with, someone who understood what it was like to be a young human with superpowers and not much family around to help them comprehend what was going on. Wherever one of them went, the other wasn’t far behind. Charlie could say what she wanted about how annoying he was, but she never stopped admiring how Peter was always up for an adventure.

They even discovered they shared the same taste in movies. Especially Star Wars. Peter could jabber on for hours about how it was total bullshit that Han Solo died at the hands of his only son, and that it didn’t make sense that no one knew who the hell Rey’s parents were. Though Peter definitely had his theories.

He was perpetually frustrating. Whenever they had a “nerd movie night” (as Peter had so rightly dubbed it), he would always wolf down and finish the entire bowl of popcorn before they were even 15 minutes into the movie. Charlie had to start making a bowl just for herself. On one particular evening, Peter tried to reach his hand in and steal some of the kernels from her bowl. Small sparks flew from Charlie’s fingers, shocking him in the offending hand.

“OW – Hey!” Peter practically squealed, clutching his hand to his chest. “What was that for?”

Charlie scowled, pointing at the bowl perched in her lap. “Mine.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his lips twitching as if he was trying not to smile.

“Alright fine, jeez.”

But despite his constant yammering on about who-knows-what, Charlie found him unbearably endearing. He asked very little questions, and had not once asked about why she lived with Tony and Pepper instead of with her family. He was perfectly content to just be with her, off on their next adventure. And whenever they broke something (which was a lot), even if Charlie had done it, Peter was always the one to take the blame.

Even Pepper and Tony had started to notice – it was impossible not to. Charlie and Peter were damn near always together, him watching her read, or laying on the grass to stare up at the clouds and pick out the shapes. Most of the time, they’d be sharing Charlie’s headphones, her phone tucked away in her pocket with her favorite playlist going softly in the background. Softly enough, of course, where she could still hear Peter’s voice over her music.

For Charlie, it was nice to have someone who was willing to do all the talking.

--

Things suddenly shifted one night, when Charlie had her worst nightmare yet.

Peter was jolted out of his deep sleep to the sound of sharp wailing coming from somewhere, or something. He bolted out of bed towards the sound, only to realize it was coming from down the hall, from Charlie’s room.

“Charlie,” he gasped, hurtling down the hallway towards her room. He busted through the door, breathing heavily, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Charlie was thrashing wildly, her sheets tangled in a disheveled mess around her legs. Her hair was soaked, and her skin glistened with sweat. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists, her knuckles turning white. Her face was masked with pain, and the shrill scream tearing from her throat was enough to break Peter’s heart in two.

“Charlie,” he tried softly, “Charlie, wake up.”

He tried again, and again, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Finally, Peter clambered over her, sitting onto her hips and pinning her down to the bed. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to gently shake her, trying to rouse her from her nightmare.

“Charlie,” He cried, louder this time. “Charlie, please wake up!”

Charlie’s eyes flew open, wide and frozen with terror. She put her hands in front of her face, still in the midst of her dream, and sparks began to fly from her fingers.

But Peter remained steady. “Charlie, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s Peter.”

The sparks ebbed, and Charlie’s hands came away from her face, which was now streaked with tears.

“Peter?” she croaked, and Peter felt his throat clench and his stomach turn into knots.

Before Charlie knew it, Peter pulled her up and pressed her to his chest. He wound his arms around her, pulling her impossibly close. He began to gently stroke her hair, pressing his cheek to the top of her head.

“It’s alright. It’s alright – it was just a dream.” He whispered. “I’m here.”

Charlie hadn’t even realized she was crying until he said something. But then Charlie began to shake with tears, harsh sobs ripping through her as she gave way into Peter’s shirt. Her hands clenched the fabric into her fists, holding him tightly to her and keeping him there.

Not that Peter had any intention of letting go.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so, so sorry. I make a mess of everything.”

Peter hardened. “Look at me.”

When Charlie refused, he wrapped his palm gently under her chin and pulled her face to his.

“Look at me. Don’t you ever – ever ­– apologize for something that isn’t even close to your fault. Understand? You are my friend, and I will always be here no matter what, do you hear me?”

Charlie felt dry as a bone, like she shouldn’t be able to cry anymore, but more tears found their way down her cheeks. She nodded, crumbling back into him like a pile of bricks. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her and willing the crumbling pieces to come back together.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always,” Peter replied.

To be honest, he didn’t even know what was going on.

Tony hadn’t told him much about Charlie, he always said it wasn’t his story to tell. But what he had said was that Charlie’s story wasn’t that far off from Peter’s. Peter had his fair share of nightmares, and he too felt the crushing weight of blaming himself for not doing enough, for feeling like he caused everything. And it broke him to see another person feel that way. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to make sure that Charlie would never have to feel that way again, like she wasn’t enough, when he was positive she was the glue holding what was left of the Avengers together. Hell, sometimes it felt like she was holding Peter together, too. If no one else was there for her to pick her up when she was falling, then Peter would be there to catch her.

Peter stayed with her that night. He had no intentions of going anywhere after what he’d witnessed. When Tony and Pepper came rushing down after FRIDAY’s alert that something was wrong, they pushed the door open slightly to find Peter cradling Charlie in his arms, rocking her back and forth gently. He was talking softly, as if he’d ever stop, about the time that he and May had gone to Coney Island on the Fourth of July to watch the fireworks. He’d gotten mustard all over his shirt from his hotdog, and Charlie giggled at the idea of little Peter with a big yellow smudge of mustard down his front, still beaming with a hotdog in one hand and a wad of blue and pink cotton candy in the other.  

“Let’s leave them,” Pepper whispered silently to Tony, pulling him away and back up the stairs. “Charlie’s well-tended to.”

--

The next morning, Charlie awoke to find her head resting against Peter’s bare chest. Her arm was thrown across his torso, his own strong arms wrapped securely around her.

Warm.

No amount of fluffy blankets or fuzzy socks could’ve compared to the warmth Peter was providing her. He was practically a space heater. But as warm as he was, it didn’t seem to be affecting him at all. His skin wasn’t glistening with sweat, and his legs were wrapped up in Charlie’s comforter.

Charlie looked up at him, drinking in his features as the sun slowly began to peek through her curtains. His brown curls were wild, a few draping over his forehead and falling into his eyes. The rest saw fit to stick out in about a million different directions, and Charlie wished in that moment that she could reach up and smooth them down.

She had never seen anything more peaceful.

His pretty pink lips were parted just slightly, and she smiled a little at the slight stubble along his jawline. As her eyes drew downwards along his body, across his broad shoulders and his toned arms, not to mention his chest, Charlie felt herself swallow.

Oh.

So this was what it felt like.

Charlie had been a shut-in for as long as she could remember. Always home-schooled, usually by Tony or Happy. Always looking to her books for an escape to the outside world. She hadn’t even gone on her first real mission yet, and the ones she did go on were quick escapes to New York, where she sat on the sidelines with Peter and acted purely for surveillance.

She knew they did it to keep her safe.

But that didn’t make her feel any less trapped.

In other words, the only love Charlie ever felt was towards Steve, or Tony, or Pepper, or Happy, or Clint. Her surrogate parents. And they loved her right back as a daughter, so she’d never felt the sting of a love unrequited.

But she’d never felt this kind of love.

Was it even love at all? Charlie couldn’t be sure. But she felt butterflies start to prick at the lining of her stomach, and her heart beat faster in her chest. If it wasn’t love, it was definitely something.

Looking at Peter now, her heart hurt. She didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t feel the same, or if his Spider-Man duties pulled him away. But she did know if life had taught her anything at all, she needed to cherish this sunny morning before it dipped below the horizon and back into the darkness of night.

After all, night seemed to be the only thing Charlie was feeling these days.

So Charlie snuggled back into Peter, pressing herself firmly against his soft skin and taking a big, deep breath in. His smell alone was enough to calm her, and she started to feel herself drifting off to sleep once more.

Peaceful.

So, so peaceful.

--

Later that same morning, Charlie shuffled awake as the sun finally rose fully over the horizon, shimmering through the window and illuminating her face. The bright morning light welcomed her as her eyes blinked open, and she found herself pressed against Peter, her back up against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Their legs were a tangled mess, his soft snores tickling the skin on the back of her neck, goosebumps rising up each time he exhaled.

His lips were so close to her skin.

So, so close.

She ached to press back just a little, if only to feel the soft press of his lips against her shoulder blade. But instead, she settled for curling into him a little further, nuzzling his forearm with her nose.

It took a moment for her to realize she had awoken with a smile stretched across her lips. 

And one thing was for sure: Charlie really didn’t want to move. 

But her chapped lips and sore throat ached for water from crying so much the night before. She wriggled out of Peter’s grasp and made her way out of her room and into the hallway, ignoring the sound of Peter shifting awake behind her. 

The sound of the TV playing softly greeted her as she padded into the living room, quiet as a mouse in case Tony was asleep on the couch again. Her feet made no sound against the hardwood floors as she slipped down the hallway and out into the wide expanse of the living room, the kitchen (and hydration) just a few feet away. 

Tony’s dark hair was poking out against the back of the couch, Pepper’s blonde hair resting against his shoulder. They sat in front of the TV, still half asleep, and neither of them heard Charlie sneak into the living room. Neither of them heard her intake of breath at what was on the TV, either. 

But still, as Charlie caught sight of the news footage struggling to keep up with the now war criminal Steve Rogers, she froze.

She’d recognize him anywhere. 

And she thought her throat was dry before. 

But now as she watched him flit across the screen in front of her, Natasha on his flank, she felt a whole new kind of parched. Her heart ripped clean out of her chest and fell to the ground beneath her, her soul right along with it, and she no longer had any power to move.

He looked so different. 

His hair was longer. It was still the same shade of dirty blonde, but it almost reached the nape of his neck. She could just make out the beginnings of a beard streaking across his jawline, ruining his perfect skin with harsh lines of stubble. Charlie crumbled seeing him in front of her, and it took all of her strength not to fall to the floor beneath her. 

He’d really let himself go. 

If there was one thing she knew about Steve, he was as clean cut as could be. Always well shaven, always with trimmed hair. Always perfect. She knew deep down he kept himself that way so others around him could feel like they wouldn’t have to. Seeing him now, haggard and far too rough around the edges for her liking, felt like a swift kick to her ribs. 

He was alive, thank god, and as real as the daylight pouring into the room around her. 

And she hadn’t been enough to convince him to stay. 

This is your fault. 

You made him like this. 

You ruined everything.

Peter trailed into the living room then, pulling his shirt over his head to cover his bare torso. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he nearly stumbled into Charlie. He caught himself as he nearly smacked into her, and his mouth opened as he caught sight of her. He was so close to asking her what was wrong. But as he looked from her tear-streaked face to the TV still lighting up with Steve’s face, he didn’t have to. 

Peter could feel she was on the edge of full-blown panic just from watching her face suddenly blanch. Her jaw was hanging open slightly, but she wasn’t able to speak. Only small, barely audible squeaks left her lips. 

So Peter pulled her away, before Tony and Pepper could even notice. He hauled her back into the safety of her room, closing the door silently behind him. When he turned back around, she was facing away from him, her head hung slightly and her shoulders slumped over. 

All she could do was just...stand there. The tears streaming down her cheeks didn’t even register with her, and at this point, she couldn’t even tell if she was breathing or not. 

But that was because she wasn’t. 

Peter stepped forward until his chest was mere inches from her back, his hands coming up to gently press against her shoulders. He stroked her there, his fingers grazing against the skin of her upper arms. 

Suddenly, she collapsed into him, a weak whimper escaping her lips as she finally breathed out, and he had to catch her in his arms before she crumbled to the ground. He sank down with her, clutching her to his chest, one hand coming up to press against her head. 

“I know,” he whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. Charlie wracked with sobs, her throat aching from being so dry. Barely any tears were there anymore, but that did nothing to lessen her cries. 

“I know. I’m here - it’s alright. You’re gonna be alright.” 

As she sat there clutching at Peter’s shirt, Charlie felt his palms press against her back so she was flush against him, his warmth radiating through her. And she thought, maybe for a second, that as long as Peter was there, she would be alright. But then her heart sagged in her chest, and she crumbled further into darkness. It felt like Peter’s chest wasn’t even there anymore. He was trying as hard as he could to hold her together, and she knew that. 

But to Charlie, it seemed that even Peter couldn’t stop the never-ending darkness from trying to swallow her whole.

--

Taglist: @parrkerspeters @starksparker @madmadmilk @gottaletgopete @hollandroos @parkerpuffwrites @dontmindthefangirling @sunshinehollandd @hollandsosterfield @thewinterslut @aestheticgaybish @eeyore101247 @underoossss @bringmethehorizonandpizza @robbmestarklord @tomthwips @noswagswag @-thatgirloverthere- @thefallenbibliophilequote @marvellousparkerpeter @rosywaifu @maybemona @eridanuswave @deansbbysblog @nellyjan-th

[racingtoaredlight]

Bass Intensifies:  Testing, Testing...

*that was my old amp lol

***

***WARNING...turn your speakers down lower than you’d normally have them before playing the video, then adjust to where it should be.

Hot mic.  I had the gain on the mic set wayyy too high because, instead of testing on my good speakers like I should, I was lazy and used my laptop’s internal speakers.

When I tested out the recording on good speakers, it was pretty fuckin’ bad.  The bass is really overwhelming...likely because I was testing on goddamned laptop internal speakers like a moron.  It sounds better on shitty speakers, truthfully.

I’m used to playing on recordings, but doing...and more improtantly, setting up...the whole system is a new world.  I know the principles, and what I should be doing, but have zero experience recording a room and actually getting it onto a computer without someone there who knows what they’re doing.

I want to do video, but that’s adding another variable into something that I’m already struggling with.  One step at a time...

I’ve been told the levels are fine.

***

What I’m planning on doing with this series is doing a cover of fairly well known songs (on video eventually).  They’re going to be all first takes, no editing, no post-EQ, no retries...I think it’s more fun to put the pressure of only having one shot at recording on than taking any time to polish up any warts.

I also think hearing my old Fender stool creaking adds a certain je ne sais quoi

For the most part, they’re going to be improv...obviously, important bass parts that need to be note-for-note will be, but outside of that I’m just going to romp around and have fun.  I’ll throw in some words and listening notes...could be a big longform or only a paragraph or two, depending on the song.

This is a pretty garbage take, for example.  I was more worried about the peaking levels due to too much gain than actual playing, and drift outside of the groove a lot.  You’ll hear me yell at the end of the bridge, because that’s a kindergarten section I can play in my sleep, but fucked up like some no-playing jamoke.  Whatever.

***

Here’s what I used...

P-Bass (w/ flats...tone knob about halfway up)

Markbass 1x12 combo amp (set dead flat)

Tech21 VT Bass Deluxe (replicating an also dead flat Ampeg B-15)

Tascam iXr digital recording console and mic

Monoprice tube amp stereo thing

This was recorded in my living room, in mono using only the mic.  The bass amp was actually in my fireplace, elevated about 6″, directly in between the speakers set 2′ from each end of the amp, with everything pointed towards the mic.  The mic was about set about a foot and a half from the center of my amp’s speaker.  I used Audacity, a free recording software that is just about as basic as you can possibly get.

The fireplace + the elevation + the extra gain on the mic = why the bass sounds so boomy on good speakers.

***

As for any listening notes...it’s just a big ol’ groove in A followed by some stuff in F and the bridge, which goes C-G-D-A-F, repeats-ish that part and goes into this little lick that I fucked up.

Duck Dunn stays pretty static the whole song, and I’m obviously taking a whole bunch of liberties.  I meant to talk about building basslines, doing it methodically and slowly through the course of the song...but then I started playing and was like wheeeeee!!!!!!!  So there is little of value to get from this.

***

More to come.  Hope you enjoyed.

***

UPDATE - these take like 15 minutes to make, including cover art

I think I got the levels better on this one...

But what I really like about this take is that you can barely tell that Willie was sniffing and bumping into the mic the entire time.  And...at least as far as I can tell...the only time you can tell is when the bass levels cut out, because he’s standing directly in between my amp and the mic.  Just standing there.  Looking at me.  Like some weirdo.

He’s a big dumb idiot and I love him very much.

Only setup difference between these two videos is the 2nd has the gain on the mic channel turned down and I bumped up the tone knob on my bass to about 75%.

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

3 Tiny!Sides and a Virgil

A/N: Get it? Like “Three Men and a Baby,” but reversed? No? I’m old? Okay. Also, should I be updating my multi-chapter stuff instead of writing new stuff? Absolutely, BUT this idea came to me and I loved it SO HERE it is (run-ons for the win).

Summary: Ro, Lo, and Pat are Tiny, and Virgil isn’t, but he can handle this right? Yeah, of course he can. He’s dealt with each of them in this tiny state before, so how hard could it be? Breakfast? No biggy. Lunch? No problem. Hide and seek? Not as easy as you’d think.

Word Count: 2,277

Genre: Fluff with a little sprinkle of angst/hurt/comfort

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan

Warnings: mild panic attack (crying, hair pulling, rambling in fear, dizziness, mention of hyperventilation), being up in a high place/possibility of falling, knife (nothing bad happens), crying, hitting (let me know if I missed any!)

Tags:  @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @ssides @pantasticpanini @anxious-but-whatever @celiawhatsherlastname @misc-merde @anxiousoddish @didsomeonesayprince @fandomsofrandom @leesacrakon  @tinysidestrashcaptain​

Taking on three other tiny sides at once was a task they all secretly hoped they’d never have to endure, but, of course, fate decided that the first time such a horror happened, Virgil was the adult in the room.

After a particularly rough night, he’d trudged down the stairs at 8am, accepting his inability to sleep in favor of food, only to find smaller versions of Roman, Patton, and Logan trying to make their respective breakfasts.

Roman with a knife, Patton climbing onto the counter, and Logan trying to work the stove were terrifying occurrences on their own, but all three at once sent Virgil’s instincts into instant overdrive.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” He called into the kitchen, holding up his hands to signal all motion to come to a stop. Three tiny Sides froze and stared at him for half a second before everything fell apart. 

Roman toddled toward the bid Side with knife still in his pudgy grasp, a mischievous glint in his eye as he yelled, “Halt, villain!” in the tiniest voice Virgil had ever heard. Patton, on the other hand, collapsed in the chair he was using to try to get onto the counter, sobbing and crying out for Virgil to hold him. Logan, of course, calmly approached his side; the little one pulled on the bigger Side’s pantleg and mumbled “Help, please,” pointing to the stove.

“Okay okay okay, hold on one second, guys!” He bent down to Roman’s level, holding up his hands in surrender. “I mean no harm, brave knight. Please disarm yourself.” 

“A prince never surrenders!” Roman retorted indignantly. 

“Roman, give me the knife or no Disney.” The tiny prince gasped and carefully laid the knife on the ground. Virgil sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

Logan crossed into his view, but before he could open his mouth, Virgil reassured him, “Yes, Lo, I know. ‘Help, please.’ I will in a second, okay? Let me help Pat out first.” He awkwardly patted the pouting Logical Side on the head and rose to get the still wailing Patton. “It’s okay, Pat, it’s okay.” Virgil reassured him, tone even as he could get it. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“I-I-I-In tr-ouble?” Patton asked between sobs. 

“No, buddy, no, you’re not in trouble. It’s okay. Just come here and get off the chair, okay?” Virgil reached down and plucked tiny Patton off the chair. Once he was in Virgil’s arms, Patton curled up against the other’s chest and quieted down significantly. 

“Okay, now your turn, Lo. I’m assuming you want some breakfast, all of you?” Three little heads nodded in unison, so Virgil set to work making breakfast as quickly has he could with small Patton in his arms, clinging to him like a baby monkey. 

Roughly 20 minutes later, a small spread of toast, juice, fruit, and eggs sat before them.

“Thank you, Virgil!” Tiny Patton cheered, now completely calmed down.

“Yes, thank you.” Logan reaffirmed, and Roman merely nodded in agreement as he inhaled his breakfast.

“You’re welcome, guys. Sorry the toast is a little burnt, but it should be okay.”

The other three nodded from their spots at the coffee table. Virgil had been nervous about the prospect of all three of them sitting in normal-sized chairs on the hard kitchen floor, so he’d told them they would try something new and fun and eat in the sitting room on the floor. 

After the food was munched and four happy Sides remained, each of the small ones took off the pursue his own interests while Virgil washed up, making them promise not to leave the first floor of the house. 

  The morning carried on with relatively few issues (those only being Roman’s solo escape attempt to get art supplies from his room and Patton nearly running into the sliding glass door when he saw a pretty bird outside). Lunch was a fairly plain spread of sandwiches and chips, but after the midday meal was when things got interesting.

The three tiny Sides were bored of the downstairs area, begging Virgil to let them go into their rooms, but the bigger Side came up with an idea.

“How about we play hide and seek?”

“YEAH!” Two out of three little ones screamed; Logan sighed, but reluctantly agreed as he put down one of the copies of The Berenstain Bears Virgil had obtained from Patton’s room. 

“Virgil, you go first!” Patton declared. “Count to....”

“Twenty!” Roman butted in, dancing in place already. 

“Okay, I can go first.” He barely held back a grin, and he made a show of putting his hands over his ears, closing his eyes, and beginning to count. “One...two....three...”

The tiny Sides scattered, hardly trying to hold back their giggles as they went to find their hiding spots.  

“Nineteen...Twenty! Ready or not, here I come!” Virgil opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately went to the closet door. “Hmm....” He mused out loud. “I wonder where they could have gone...Maybe...in...the closet!” He cried as he threw the door open, only to find nothing but the closet’s normal contents. “Hmmm...maybe...somewhere in the kitchen...” Virgil tiptoed into the kitchen and stopped; a grin spread across his lips when he heard muffled shuffling from within one of the lower cabinets. “A HA!” He threw open the door with a flourish, revealing a surprised Logan. 

“That was fast.” The tiny one commented as he carefully removed himself from among the dry food boxes. 

“Not a bad spot, though, Lo. Not at all.” The tiny tot trailed behind Virgil as he searched the foyer and slowly returned to the sitting room. 

“Hmmm...I wonder where Patton could be....” The sound of uncontrolled giggles shattered the silence of the room, followed by a light smacking sound.

“Ouch, Roro, why’d you do that?!” Patton whimpered.

“You’re loud!” Roman whispered back furiously. “You can hide with me if you’re quiet!” 

“Sorry, Ro...”

“Hey, I thought I said no going upstairs!” Virgil gazed up at the pair perched at on the third step from the top.

“No!” Roman challenged as he wobbled down the steps. “You said stay down stairs. We went up the stairs, but we didn’t go into upstairs.” Roman smiled proudly as he descended the final step. “But that didn’t count because Patton gave us away!” 

“Sorry, Ro.” Patton sniffled. 

“Roman.” Virgil glared and jerked his head toward Patton. 

“It’s okay, Pat...” The prince reluctantly conceded. 

“Yay! Let’s play again! By ourselves this time!” Patton recovered quickly.

“Okay, I guess I’ll be ‘it’ again, huh?” Virgil queried.

“Mmmhmm!” The three small ones nodded together and got ready to take off again. 

“Okay, ready? One...two...three...” And they were off. This time, when Virgil removed his hands, it was dead silent. No giggles, no shuffling, no noise at all from the tiny tots. “Wow, they got better already.” Virgil thought to himself as he checked all the usual places, finding nothing this time.

He checked every kitchen cabinet, but found nothing. He opened the hall closet, but no Side spilled out. He checked under the couch and coffee table, even behind the TV, but no Sides were to be found. He’d searched the entire downstairs, and now the panic was setting in.  

“Roman? Logan? Patton? Okay, guys, game’s over, you win, come out now. Please.” 

Silence. Stillness. 

“Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no ohnoohnoohno ohnoohnoohno.” Virgil sank to the carpet, hands in his hair, and tears daring to pour out at any second. He’d lost them. In the MindScape. All 3 of them. What would this do to Thomas? What would this do to him? Would they vanish? Would they get overtaken by some-

“Virgil?” A meek little voice nearly made him jump out of his skin as it shattered the tense silence building up around him. His head shot up, and there before him stood Tiny Logan, peering at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Oh my god, LOGAN!” Virgil sobbed openly as he threw his arms around the tiny Side and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace. “Oh my god you’re okay I’m so glad you’re okay don’t ever do that to me again oh my god-”

“V-Virge-”

“Heeeeyy I wanna get in on the group hug, too!” Virgil felt something small and squishy slam into his side, and he looked down through his tears to see tiny Patton grinning up at him and hugging him tightly. “’Ey, Virge?” The bespectacled being queried. “What’s wrong?”

“I...thought I...lost you  guys.” Virgil choked out between sobs, his right arm shooting out to pull Patton into the big bear hug. 

“Does this mean I win?!” A shrill tone that could only be Roman shrieked from above him, and Virgil nearly screamed when he saw Roman perched on top of the ceiling fan. 

“Aww no fair, Roman, you can use your creative powers!” Patton pouted.

“ROMAN HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!” Virgil yelped, letting go of the other two to jump up and stretch his arms out beneath the little prince. “Oh my god okay just....carefully slide yourself to that side...oh my god....Roman, Roman right there, Roman right above my arms-”

“WHEEEEEE!” Roman jumped from atop the fan blade and landed giggling in Virgil’s arms, but his laughter was squelched out by Virgil squeezing him tight to his chest and sobbing into the small one’s hair. 

“Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.” Virgil choked out; he felt like he would hyperventilate. He suddenly felt dizzy, and he lowered to the floor as carefully as he could. Roman looked up at him, his eyes wide and actually a little scared as he realized Virgil wasn’t acting right.

“What’s wrong, Virge? It was just hide and seek!”

“Yeah....but you guys...you were gone for so long....and I couldn’t find you....and when I called, you didn’t come!”

“That’s because it’s hide n’ seek, silly! That breaks the rules!” Patton spoke up.

“R-right...” He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Virge, you okay?” Roman asked form his lap, eyes wide and watery.

“Y-yeah...I’m...I’m okay...” Virgil pulled himself and the tiny prince up onto the couch; he lay sprawled out on his back with Roman sitting on his stomach, one arm dangling toward the floor. His ears registered a chair squeaking across the kitchen floor, but he was too spent to react. “Whoever that is-”

“It’s Logan.” Patton murmured.

“Logan, be careful.”

“Yeah.” The other one called back.

“I’m sorry we scared you, Virge.” Patton whispered, slowly petting the Anxious Side’s hair with tears welling in his eyes. 

“We didn’t mean to! Promise!” Roman chimed in. “Here!” Roman clumsily conjured up a round plushie of Jack Skellington’s head with a distorted smile and two different sized eyes. “This is for you!” He held out the soft gift proudly, and Virgil took it with the best smile he could muster.

“Thanks, Ro. It’s cool.” He murmured, tucking the stuffed toy under his arm and snuggling it for good measure.

“Make way-” Tiny Logan tottered in with an overfull glass of water, walking incredibly slow to avoid spilling any. “Here you go!” He announced proudly when he approached Virgil.

Virgil gave him a grateful nod and sat up; he downed half the glass in a few gulps. “Thanks, Logan.” He breathed, laying back against the sofa, eyes half-lidded as he stared straight ahead. “God, I’m tired.” 

“Me, too.” Tiny Patton yawned, rubbing at his eyes with a pudgy fist. He toddled over to the couch and attempted to crawl up, Virgil giving him the final boost under his diapered bottom to get him up there. The tiny, poloed Patton snuggled up to the Anxious Side and sighed contentedly, both of his arms curled securely around one of Virgil’s. 

“I am, as well.” Tiny Logan agreed, hoisting himself up to perch on the other side of Virgil.

“Well, I’m not!” Roman declared, jumping a bit in Virgil’s lap. “I wanna play! And run around! A-a-and...” Roman trailed off, pouting his lips and crossing his arms after the unwanted yawn escaped his throat. “I don’t wanna take a nap! I don’t wanna! Don’t wannaaa!”

“You don’t have to, Ro.” Virgil reassured him, ruffling the tiny one’s hair; he got a pout in return. “We can just watch a movie or something, and you can pick! Any one you want!”

Roman considered for a second, and then he lowered himself to the floor and happily skipped over to the movie shelves and pulled out Sleeping Beauty. 

“Appropriate.” Virgil chuckled as Roman got the movie started. The little prince catapulted himself up onto the couch and back into his spot on Virgil’s lap.

Not even ten minutes in, Logan and Patton were sound asleep, both snoring softly and snoozing soundly. 

About an hour in, Roman’s little head began to bob, making the slowly, jerky descent to his chest. The final time, the motion startled him awake, and he began to cry. Virgil’s heart nearly broke for the sleepy little Side, so he gently rearranged the little one in his lap, murmuring reassurances as Roman settled into a better position. The bigger Side rubbed the small one’s back as he sighed in contentment, snuggling into the bigger Side like he was an over-sized teddy bear; he bit back a snort when Roman popped his thumb in his mouth, reflecting that the little royal trait might not be as secure as he tried to seem. 

Virgil made it to the scene where the fairies put everyone to sleep before he, too, fell victim to exhaustion. His head leaned back, Virgil breathed deeply and evenly along with the little ones cuddled up around him, reveling in a well-deserved bout of peace and rest.

Let’s Play!...(Normal Virgil and Tiny!Roman fic)

All of my Sanders Sides fanfics