#curious. will pull things apart to see how they work. etc

[i3utterflyeffect]

Here's a small doodle of the design

On chosen's left shoulder are their gills and on the right a small tattoo of what resembles a virabot(dark also has one)

HELL YEAH

[byechristopher]

Quiet [0.2].

-MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

PART ONE.

Author's note: Y'ALL, I have been gone for more than a month, oof.. anyways, I still love y'all. I like to believe that I am back now.. but we'll see. I am a very spontaneous bitch, you see. Enough with the rambling. Matt smut. Part two. Let's go. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long, filthy smut, car sex in the middle of nowhere, matt is a dom, etc. Minors dni! Also, didn't proofread.

I hated how much I wanted more, straight away. I can still feel his fingers inside me and still, that isn't enough. Once the movie ended, he retained his embrace, a gesture I welcomed. The cool touch of his silver chain on the back of my neck and the gentle pressure from the rings on his fingers created a sensation, not quite reaching the point of discomfort.

"Tell them you gotta leave." Matt whispers in my ear and I realise that he wasn't lying earlier – we're going to his car. Good God.

I don't have to respond, not even nod, I just get up (after making sure I'm wearing my pants correctly, of course) and head to the kitchen, where my other friends are.

"Y'all, I'd love to stay for another movie but I have to leave. My roommate has locked herself out."

Lies, lies, lies. But I didn't care enough to feel bad, not when I was about to get eaten by Matthew.

Speaking of the devil, "I can take you home. I have to leave too anyway."

And with that, we were out of the apartment. Not wasting any time, we almost run towards the car and Matt starts driving almost right away. Despite still looking appealing, his hair appears noticeably more disheveled than earlier in the day, and he seems slightly flustered.

My hand lands on his clothed thigh gently, rubbing it up and down, and he gives me a warning glare, "I'm driving."

"I know." is the only thing I say before my hand travels up to his crotch.

He casts me a disapproving glance, yet he refrains from stopping me; he's curious about the extent of my boldness. What he doesn't know is that, in his presence, I disregard all limits. With that determination, I unzip his pants, gradually lowering both his pants and boxers to expose him. The image of Matt glancing between me, the road, and his attempts to drive with his dick hard against his tummy, is one that I doubt will ever fade from my mind.

I spit in my hand and wrap my fingers around his cock, earning a soft moan of relief from him. I start moving my hand up and down, rotating my wrist while looking at him.

"Be careful, Matty." I whisper, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek and I know he would probably fuck the shit out of me now if he could.

"Fuck.." he grunts, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel, his hips bucking.

I lean down to wrap my lips around the tip and he almost loses control; I give it a sloppy kiss and then pull away, returning back to my seat as if nothing happened.

Matt shoots me one of his infamous death glares before abruptly pulling over. His actions unfold too quickly for me to fully grasp; he hastily adjusts his pants and signals for me to shift to the backseat, a command I promptly follow.

Without uttering a word, I observe him as he exits the car and then moving to the backseat as well, internally appreciating the fact that he owns a large, spacious car. I am sitting on the middle seat, he hooks his fingers under my panties and pants, pulling them down and then completely taking them off.

"You think teasing me is funny?" he hums, he spreads my legs wide open, placing my feet on each seat, fully exposing me to him. His hands move underneath my butt, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he pushes my hips upwards – my pussy a breath away from his hungry mouth.

"You know, I kept thinking.." he whispers, his hands caressing my thighs, "..when you came on my fingers.." he continues, his fingers dangerously close to my core, "..how much I wanted your juices in my mouth instead." he looks at me, giving me a small smile.

"Matty, please.." I sigh, I can feel my wetness dripping down already.

"And you know, I get anything I want." he nods, his index finger pressing my clit, earning a loud moan from me. He starts rubbing small circles on it, placing soft kisses on the lips.

Now teasing my most sensitive part with his thumb, he leans in, sticking his warm tongue out to lick my wet entrance, moaning. With his fingers on each side of my pussy, he spreads it delicately as he presses his tongue flat against my clit, rubbing it while letting the tip of it poke my entrance.

"Matt.. fuck.. please!" you can hear a mixture of frustration, anticipation and pleasure in my voice, but it most certainly doesn't make Matt move faster.

"You're dripping, sweetheart." he chuckles, amused. His tongue reaches all the way down, and then up to my clit, eventually wrapping his lips around it and sucking it.

I let my head fall backwards, pulling my shirt up to reveal my breasts – I quickly grab both of them, pinching the nipples while Matt is licking hungrily down there, as if he hadn't eaten for days. He pushes his tongue inside of me and I almost cum right then and there; he notices that, so he takes his tongue out slowly and then shoves it back in. He keeps doing that while teasing my clit with his thumb.

"Yes, yes, yes.. please.." I plead and whimper, I don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

I let go of one breast to grab a fistful of Matt's hair instead, tugging at it and pushing his head towards my core even more (not that it was even possible, Matt was practically buried in my pussy, tongue inside of me, his nose pressed against my clit). I can feel him moving his tongue, still fucking me with it as he rubs and pinches my clit with his fingers – his free hand moves to my other breast, squeezing it and smacking it.

"Matty.. Matty, I – I'm.. fuck!" I cry out but he never stops, "I'm cumming.. I'm – yes.." and with that last word, I shake and tremble underneath his touch, finally letting go on his tongue, which he embraces with love, making sure not a single drop of my wetness goes to waste.

"That's my baby.." he praises and if I wasn't so lost in pleasure, I would've blushed.

He carefully grabs my legs, placing them on his shoulders as he presses kisses all over my thighs, making sure I calm down before we do anything else.

"Matt.." I moan gently, looking at him.

"Don't look at me like that. Your voice already makes it hard for me." he hums, squeezing my legs every now and then.

"Can you sit down instead? I wanna taste you." my hands squeeze my breasts.

"Can I ever deny you when you're looking at me like that, hm?" it is a rhetorical question but it still makes me laugh.

I move to the other seat while he takes my place, quickly taking his pants and boxers off, leaving his with his hoodie on. Before i start anything, he cups my cheeks and pulls me closer, kissing my nose and then my lips. I get down on my knees, in the same place he was earlier, almost drooling at the sight of his cock. It looks big and hard, and wet, and red. Hell.

"Come on, baby." he encourages, smiling while his hand grabs my chin, bringing me closer.

I nod, smiling, leaning in to grab the base with my hand, bringing his cock closer to my mouth and then eventually wrapping my lips around it. I move my mouth up and down the tip, just to tease him a little, looking up at him as I push my head further down. The more of him I take into my mouth, the more it stretches around him, making me drool all over his dick.

"Mmm, princess, that's it. You can take it." I'm not sure if it's a statement or a disguised warning but I take it either way.

He cups my cheeks and pushes me down on him, my watering eyes struggling to maintain eye contact. He looks at me with pride, almost, as he keeps my head in place while moving his hips, pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. I choke and gag around him but thay doesn't stop me, nor him.

"I'm close.. fuck." he groans, biting down on his bottom lip as he lets go of my head, moving one arm behind the seat and grabbing my hand gently with his free hand.

I move my mouth up and down, sucking his cock hungrily while looking at him, almost feeling it throb in my mouth – my free hand squeezes his thigh and my other hand, squeezes his.

"That's it.. that's it.." he moans, "..open your mouth, stick your tongue out.." he orders and I obey, jerking him off instead, "I wanna see your pretty mouth filling with my cum." he says and I moan just at the thought.

I move my hand up and down his cock, mouth open and tongue sticking out just like he ordered, looking at him the whole time. With a loud moan and groan from him, I can feel his warm cum landing on my tongue, slowly but steadily filling my mouth.

"Fuck.. baby.." he moans, caressing my hair, not daring to look anywhere else but me, "..open your mouth, let me see." he says and I know he wants to see a clean mouth. So that's exactly what I show him; he grins, "mm, such a good girl, aren't you?" yet another rhetorical question but again, it makes me smile either way.

He leans in to grab me and pull me into his lap, hugging me close to him as he lets me bury my face into his neck, breathing in his delicious scent, "you good, darling?" he whispers.

"More than good." I mumble against his skin and I can feel him chuckle, his hands rubbing up and down my back, his lips placing kisses on my head.

"You taste amazing." he whispers to tease me and it works; I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks and I'm glad he's not able to see me.

"So do you." he pulls away just a bit to give me a kiss on the lips.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

okay no but im still not done thinking about fiber artist soap (part two of this)

(i crochet mainly so most of my knowledge is there, but if any knitters/weavers/etc want to chime in please do!)

the first time he ever saw anything to do with fibercraft, he was really little. maybe six or seven. he found his nan sitting at a spinning wheel, humming to herself, turning a mass of fluffy white into even, careful strands of soft yarn. curious as he was, he couldnt stop himself from coming closer and watching. asking questions. she just smiled, pulled him into her lap, and let him watch from there.

the first time he tried to make something wtih the finished product, it didnt quite come out how he expected. what was supposed to be a scarf looked anything but. it was wonky and misshapen, with dropped stitches and tension all over the place. but despite the awkward end result, he actually finished it! it took a few tries, a fair bit of frogging, and a couple of breaks where he had to step back and do something else, but he finished it! his sister lit up like a christmas tree when he gave it to her, and still has it tucked away somewhere.

he never really talked about his little hobby once he enlisted. its not that he was ashamed of it, but there wasnt a lot of down time during basic and what little unscheduled time was better spent elsewhere. he did have a stash of yarn and a few hooks and needles tucked under his bunk, and during nights when he couldnt sleep hed pull out a skein or two and work until either his mind stopped racing or the sun broke over the horizon, whichever came first.

the first person to really notice his little hobby was gaz. they spent a lot of time together on and off duty, its only natural that hed notice. after a bit of good natured ribbing, gaz is more than a little impressed at the speed he can work up a piece. he even asked for a lesson or two, with varying results.

price is next, after soap gets laid out during a mission. hes sitting next to the shitty medical cot when gaz brings him a lumpy bag and chucks it at soaps head. hes not expected him to pull out a set of knitting needles and a few balls of yarn, or for soap to start chattering away with gaz as his hands work quickly.

ghost notices when he sees soap working on a different project almost every day. one day its a pair of colorful socks, the next a chunky blanket, the next the beginnings of a sweater sleeve. he works with an intensity that he usually reserves for a particularly complicated explosive, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips. ghost rallies the courage to ask when he sees price wearing a sweater he could have sworn soap had been working on last week.

his fingers are awkward and fumble with the hook, yarn getting knotted and tangled as he pulls the last row of loops apart with a frustrated huff. but soap is there to gently guide his hands in place, telling him how to hold the yarn with the right tension, how to start a new row without dropping stitches, all the things that he himself was taught by his ever patient nan.

fiber artist soap who shows his love through his work, and who works his love in every stitch <3

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

hi liddy! i saw the post you rbed about blocking liberally, which i’m very much on board with, and it reminded me of something i’ve been thinking about a lot lately and i’m curious about your thoughts.

i’ve noticed that the culture in fandom, maybe specifically the drarry fandom maybe not, is to not engage with things that make you upset, which i think comes from this same root of it feels like crap for everyone and is a self protective choice. that arguing on the internet is pointless and hurtful and it’s better to just look away and move on. but it seems like that turns into folks feeling like they can’t or shouldn’t call out real problems. whether it’s racism or ableism (etc) in fic, issues with modding or beta-ing, interpersonal drama, etc - if the culture is to block and move on, how do we address what does come up in order to keep each other safe? what has been your experience with this, if you’re down to share?

this is such a good question! When I reblogged the post I was thinking mainly about blocking people who post stuff I don’t like so that I don’t have to see it in the tags, essentially because it’s clutter to me. That’s not a particularly serious thing, more just personal preference. This got long so prepare yourself for loosely organized rambling.

I’ve found that fandom’s attitude toward conflict is extremely avoidant. This isn’t specific to drarry or HP, it’s something I have seen in basically every fandom I’ve participated in. Some folks are really uncomfortable with conflict, and it seems to be considered polite not to say anything negative about fanworks and tropes you have a problem with and especially not to publicly take issue with other fans, even ones who are managing the fan experience for lots of people, such as mods.

to some extent, it can be a good thing not to be public about disagreements. The entire fandom doesn’t need to weigh in and take sides on every personal disagreement. That would be a really unpleasant atmosphere and people would leave or be driven out and all that would be left is people who like to fight.

BUT on the other hand, I think there does need to be significantly more tolerance for like. Friction? This anti-conflict attitude favors the status quo, and like. The status quo is kind of steeped in the ableism, transphobia, racism, fat phobia, and even homophobia and misogyny of our larger culture because like. It takes focus and research and constant effort to shed those bigotries, and we are all at different stages in those journeys.

Personally I would feel way more welcome and accepted in fandom if it weren’t seen as like. Impolite to discuss how fandom can do better around things like race in particular. Fandom has turned drarry into an interracial relationship which I love, but sometimes the fannish handling of Harry’s character as a man of color is kind of racist and it would be great to be able to talk about it. once I saw someone say they specifically depict Harry as white because it’s too much trouble to sort out the details of his identity as a person of color and I thought that was SO hurtful and insulting to fans of color. The veneration of Aurors in fandom makes me kind of uncomfortable as a Black fan (acab??) and the treatment of house elves is a fucking mess (your SLAVE character is comic relief?? Really??)

In our particular fandom, canon is SO messy that fanworks seem like a good opportunity to address its messiness. On the other hand, some people don’t care about addressing all the problematic isms in canon and would rather just read and write and draw for sexy reasons or fluffy reasons and aren’t especially interested in taking the source material seriously enough to pull it apart and fix it. Or maybe some people don’t feel like. Informed enough to fix it. Putting yourself out there and sharing your work or even your taste in other people’s work can be really scary. Maybe people feel strongly that more barriers to entry are inherently a bad thing.

Maybe that sense of vulnerability, like we’re all doing something that’s on the edges of socially acceptable that makes everyone so afraid to hear criticism. I don’t see things like callout posts (I recently learned that calling someone out used to mean challenging them to a duel like swords and pistols style!) (Hogwarts era snarry? Pistols at dawn, you villain!) and blocklists anymore but they are not very far in the past. I was going to say we might be overcorrecting but did callout posts and blocklists actually make fandom safer or more moral?

I think a big part of the issue is that fandom is a fucking enormous group of people, united by the fact that we read some book series and we want to make and enjoy fanworks about it, and that is not a lot to have in common. We are going to differ significantly about what constitutes harmonious cohabitation. And of course most people find a little corner of fandom they like the look of and only engage with a few dozen people at a time. That’s much more manageable but like. You still have to be able to talk honestly to people about How We Want To Be (and then sometimes you find out someone doesn’t consider themselves part of your We at all and don’t care how you want to be as long as you leave them out of it).

To me, participating in fandom is about creating relationships and connecting with people, even more than it is about engaging with the source work or enjoying fanworks. It feels very strange to me to be trying to build relationships in an environment where I’m supposed to be unnaturally agreeable. How are they going to know who I even am, if I can only talk about things I like?

But even that is a matter of personal taste! Not everyone enters these spaces wanting to make friends, and there’s nothing wrong with just quietly enjoying the art and keeping to yourself. In which case, maybe conflict in fannish spaces feels more like shouting in the library than healthy relationship maintenance.

All this to say that building relationships and sharing space with other people is always messy and contentious and acting like you can avoid the mess by only saying positive things is self deception. Imposing that standard on the whole group is just. So unhealthy!!! We need a basement for how we treat each other so that people can feel safe that they won’t be damaged by other fans for either making a mistake or drawing attention to an issue.

But how do we establish rules like that so that everyone knows about them and agrees to them? How do we enforce rules? If we successfully establish community standards, how do we share them with new people as they enter? Being a group of humans who want to share things with each other is very fucking messy. These aren’t the kinds of questions you can answer once and be done with it. You have to keep answering them over and over again.

I don’t have a conclusion to this rambling and I have errands to run, so I will leave it here. I appreciate the question!

[bravestworriers]

writer interview game <3

thank u to @pricemarshfield who tagged me in this :) i'm so glad we're friends and u let me bombard you with random writing snippets as i go along!

i will be tagging the og writing wife @atxvanhalen (circa 2012), ao3 famous bffl @riverdanceeee, fantasy-pilled love of my life @multilevelmargoting, the coolest film reviewer in the biz @kaafka, and my begrudgingly kind editor @takeavacation2010 . & anyone else who'd like to write a little something about themselves!

read below if you dare!!!

When did you start writing?

probably as long ago as i could figure out how to & started winning little competitions for it! i love telling stories, usually through a visual medium (storyboarding, screenwriting etc), but it's all writing at the end of the day, no matter how put it down on a page.

i recently located my half finished writing from elementary school (so i must have started from the age of at least 8), all in the email drafts of my oldest email account, and it's always a treat to see how i used to think about romance, about drama and all that good stuff! (i was wrong and sad, but adorably so!)

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

i love big sci-fi adventures, heists, life or death sort of stuff, just as long as it's grounded in something tangible and human. i also just love media where you can tell that the artists are having a lot of fun with the medium and they way they're piecing everything together. like i adore the films kneecap (dir. rich peppiatt) and american animals (dir. bart layton) and dick johnson is dead (dir. kirsten johnson), even though i could never see myself writing a true story/biopic feature like that -- they're just exploring what a feature film compiling those ideas looks like today, fighting against the rules of what people think it should be, and just going for it. other than that, i watch a lot of BAD movies and BAD tv because it's fascinating to pull it apart and figure out where things went wrong -- like looking under the hood of a fucked up car.

mostly, i think i read and watch a lot of the types of things i like to write, lots of introspective dramedies and coming of age stories. but usually no tragedy, it makes me too sad.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

in school i got compared a LOT to tim burton (i made a lot of fantasy focused films that existed in the real world), which honestly feels like a little bit of an insult now. if i was compared to henry sellick, now that would be a compliment.

i'd love to emulate documentarian and cinematographer kirsten johnson! (it's not going to happen. but i love her.)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i really can write anywhere, as long as it's in complete isolation listening to the same piece of music over and over until whatever i'm doing is complete (that's the autism for ya!). usually when i'm working, i'm lying down in bed in the evening, or weirdly standing with my computer on a counter in the kitchen early in the morning as i'm getting ready for my day. i'm a slow writer and can't get anything done without a deadline (work related) or a special interest (fic related), and usually things sputter aimlessly until someone explicitly asks for it (this is why my ao3 never has anything finished. sorry guys! #shamelssplug!)

(right now the piece of music i'm listening to is norman's walk by jon brion. and yes, if you're curious, my repetition of single pieces of music always messes up my spotify wrapped.)

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

the only theme i can think of is one of meeting someone that you're meant to meet, exactly at the point in your life that you are meant to meet them. life is chance upon chance upon chance, i've found, and i love capturing that life-changing feeling as it balances temporarily on a pinpoint. i especially love when it ends in tragedy too.

agnes varda's cleo from five to seven is a favourite of this trope. a bit of severance by ming le also has this concept wrapped up in it. and billy wilder's the apartment.

i don't think it surprises me though, i think it's always something i'm looking for in life. to eventually look back and see the path i made, and to know even if i didn't at the time, that it was the right one because of the people i had the pleasure of meeting, even briefly.

i also love 90s wedding movies and the strict structure they're written with, it's fun to replicate and poke fun of in my own work.

What is your reason for writing?

i started writing because i would get really overwhelmed with my feelings over whatever was going on in my life, and need to parse through them somehow. they say it's always best to start with a nugget of something, and build off of it. it's how i've coped with everything from romantic kerfuffles, to immigration, and racism, to parents splitting up, death, and everything else life has to offer. explicitly in my writing, or not.

maybe i've just been exceptionally lucky, but every time i've shared something that felt so isolating and devastating i did not know how to deal with it, i've always met someone after the fact who looked me in the eyes and told me they felt exactly the same thing.

it makes me love being a person on this planet.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

i don't know! if you like it, please let me know! if you don't, please don't tell me i'll think about it for the next twelve years of my life and also cry.

no, but in all seriousness, i just want to make people feel like some part of them is understood, whatever that looks like. yell into the void with me, or yell back at me from the void, whatever works best for you.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

pacing and emotional beats. i can always feel when a scene is done, or when i want it to be done. i love writing the emotional stuff, i don't really care about the stuff that it takes to get there, other than it makes those beats happen.

writing my dialogue is like pulling teeth. writing my inner monologue gets convoluted. writing, i'm a slower than the oldest, most decrepit turtle. writing my descriptions can get too long in screenplay format. literally nothing but pacing out a story and hitting those emotional beats.

How do you feel about your own writing?

it makes me sick to my stomach. after i've obsessed over something for months and it's done, i can't look at it. i'm always terrified that it's so much worse than i want it to be, or that i'm envisioning it is. (i've had this exact experience at a festival with one of my films before and it haunts me forever.) i need other people to tell me it's written okay before i start to feel normal about it. i want to get over this sensation eventually, but it doesn't seem like it's happening anytime soon.

that being said, i don't think i could make myself stop writing and telling stories if i wanted to. my cross to bear, i suppose.

that's all. thanks for this, sarah, and if anyone read this, i hope you enjoyed it :^)

[story-weavr]

The following is a conversation between myself & @andyboops in the comment section of Ch. 5 of his absolutely fantabulous Clex fic

Me: Also Clark is a sweetheart.

Plus I’m super-curious how “before the deal” Lex viewed Clark Kent, reporter.

Was he still in love with him? Did he just give up on having Clark?

Andy: Why not all of the above? 🤔☺️

Me: You just gave me a brain wave:

Clark is de-powered (Mxsptlk incident or sunspots), & he is just trying to lay low until his powers come back on.

During a reception of some kind, there was an explosion. Guests panic, gunmen come in to take mayor hostage, but amidst the chaos Clark sees something in slow motion.

A man pulling out a gun and pointing it at Lex. There is no time. Clark just runs.

Lex hits the floor, lifting up with a snarl only to look stunned to see security taking down a man in tux…. and Clark Kent bleeding on the floor.

Lois came up crying and screaming and Lex comes forward trying to stop the bleeding with his coat.

Clark just looks at him and says “Lex, I’ve … I’ve always lo-“ basically saying while not saying & he falls unconscious.

What happens next? What is going on through Lex Luthor’s mind, seeing his childhood friend who he (once?) loved seeming to be saying he still cared about Lex? Enough to die for him?

*****************************************

To take it a step further:

When Clark went down, one of the other Metropolis heroes (Supergirl, Steel, insert preference) manages to round up the situation, grab the dying human-disguised Kryptonian, & get the hell to Dr. Hamilton at STAR labs.

Clark gets saved but there is now a problem: Everyone knows Clark Kent got shot in the chest.

And Kryptonians, super-powered or not, heal MUCH quicker than humans. And pretending to have a gunshot wound is a bit beyond Clark’s acting abilities.

Which means he’s gonna have to use Kryptonian tech to re-injure himself according to what stage of the healing process he’s supposed to be in.

Now normally, things just would be a little annoying but he could still go out as Superman.

But then Lex.

A Lex who is constantly visiting and sending get-well flowers.

A Lex who keeps inviting Clark to recuperate at a private clinic that LexCorp owns rather than staying at STAR labs or at home in his apartment being cared for by his visiting relative or friends.

A Lex who scolds Clark when he catches him working on what he can.

A Lex who fussed as only he can over Clark.

A Lex who wants to have a serious conversation about what Clark said when he believed he was gonna die.

A Lex whose face does this weird thing whenever he sees the get-well flowers sent by some of Clark’s friends who are single. He also acts rather terse with those single friends who come to visit Clark when he’s there.

And now throw in a Clark who is confused, semi-hopeful, & depressed bc Lex is still Luthor:

- The guy whose international company LexCorp is only his semi-legitimate business among many.

- The mastermind behind international arms-trading and various gang activities

- A maestro of white-collar crimes and those related to them including prostitution, embezzlement, blackmail, bribing, etc

- The leader or financier of I llegal scientific activités and unethical experimentation which created the likes of Métallo and Parasite

- A financier of criminal activities

- A criminal boss who uses mercenaries, gangsters, & middlemen to commit murder, assault, robbery, blackmail, torture, bribery, embezzlement, kidnapping, etc.

- Superman’s arguably biggest enemy who has attempted the following on him, either personally or through middlemen: murder, blackmail, bribery, torture, nonconsensual experimentation, ruin his reputation via framing or smear campaigns, etc.

… And this is the guy he’s been in love with since childhood. Who now knows Clark Kent, the very human reporter, is in love with him. And seems to reciprocate.

… Rao help him.

[emotionally-charged-arson]

A Very, Very Unfinished Pile of Theory of Everything Headcanons (Ayreon)

Last semester, my English final was a presentation relating the overall theme of the Forever saga to that of the more popular works of H.G. Wells. Details of that argument aside, the thesis was that Ayreon’s emotional core was the presence of small-scale acts of love juxtaposed against large-scale existential tragedy, balanced in their individual power. That we are messy and self-destructive, and in the grand scheme of things we mean very little in the universe, but we are resilient and alive and human and that has to be worth something.

I really like this aspect of the main story, and it got me a perfect score on that assignment. It had a ten minute time limit and I was fighting for my life to stay under it. While I was downsizing the script, I couldn’t help but think of an earlier idea I had drafted about how The Theory of Everything on its own was a really incredible example of the mad scientist archetype turned completely on its head (it was a science-fiction analysis class). Specifically how that script was almost three times longer than the original H.G. Wells one, that took me a solid twenty minutes to read aloud. 

I literally wrote an hour long lecture about The Theory of Everything. No headcanons. No extra theories. Literally just picking apart its canon plot. 

I think this is why I have so little extra writing for it. The story as its given is airtight and just…fucking incredible. Arjen wrote it with a very clear theme in mind like he did with Transitus, but TToE isn’t missing half of its story because he couldn’t pull in the cash to make a movie out of it. You can feel the intention behind every single character, they feel like real people, it has so many layers to it and it is literally, objectively, the greatest prog album ever made. Fight me. 

But anyways: For lack of better phrasing, there isn’t much to “fix” in that sense. Almost all the headcanons I have for The Source or Transitus boil down to a few things:

I was being self-indulgent with a favorite character and it snowballed into a genuinely informative trait/subplot that informs the main story (a certain hc I have where Henry just fucking shoots Daniel in the back by mistake sometime between Two Worlds and Talk of the Town, turning into this weirdly effective commentary of how Daniel is conditioned to his brother’s shitty behavior and Abby hauling ass to get him out of that headspace)

I am curious about aspects of an album’s worldbuilding and get a little excited while filling in the blanks that were perfectly fine being left alone (doing mental gymnastics trying to build a version of The Source where these five academics, three politicians, two religious figures, one robot and one random spaceman viably know each other)

The rarer option that I am genuinely disappointed by how a part of the story was handled and completely ignore this small part of canon to make the overall story be more effective. Or attempt it, at least (Lavinia’s entire character undermining Transitus’ themes and her contradicting her own motivations, and me, in turn, just writing her character from scratch while keeping with the basic story beats [her seeing ghosts, doing shady shit with Henry, etc.])

But with TToE I’ve felt very little need to do any of these. If I were to really dive into it with intention I think I would start building off of the whole bank robbery plot in Phase III (just a slightly weirdly framed plot point for me), but I haven’t thought about it. It’s not that glaring of an issue and there’s few other places in the story where I think adding anything would make it more effective. 

This isn’t to say that Transitus and The Source are objectively worse in any sense, but they leave a lot more up to interpretation, allowing me to write so many add ons that they become structured and essential to each other’s function. 

It’s fun with those two albums. With TToE I really have to look for cracks to fill and it’s kind of useless. 

Not entirely, though. I’ve got a few hcs, and maybe they’ll warrant dozens of google doc pages of context one day like the other two albums: 

Two central things sparked curiosity. Setting, and how the parent characters came to hate each other that much. Naturally. 

This started four-ish years ago when I was pacing around my parents’ house with TToE on the mind (as it often is), and my brother put on this show called His Dark Materials. I watched the intro to it all of one time and just…knew this was the aesthetic TToE should have.🔗 At least combined with dark academia. It’s an album about physics and ghosts, that seems reasonable enough. 

…funnily enough, as I later found out, His Dark Materials itself has a very dark-academia-esque vibe, and the plot is entirely based upon the intersectionality between science and mysticism and trivial human attempts to make sense of it. 

So. Pretty fitting. 

This really stuck with me, and a handful of the characteristics of the show and books became the basis for the way I picture The Theory of Everything. Mainly the visual aesthetic, like I said, but also the fact that the story starts at a parallel version of Oxford University. I don’t have some giant case study for this like with Transitus/New England. I just think it’d be a cool and vibey setting. Maybe it’s the American in me but there’s something about a thousand-year-old college with a campus made of literal goddamn castles that borders on the fantastic. 

From there, you have a decent excuse for The Prodigy to run off to Ireland, where you can choose from one of like 200 different pretty little isolated lighthouses for him to lose his mind in, far enough away for him not to be found as long as he did. Not to mention it lowkey matches with the overt Celtic influence of the music. Or Scotland, if you want some weather symbolism from the North Sea. 

Solid setting, if I say so myself, and it actually influenced the family’s whole situation. Here, The Father (Mike) is a physics professor at Oxford, and The Mother (Cristina) is the director of the Bodleian Library. It’s how and where they meet in 1991 (though the mother is in an attendant position at the time), as shown by the only part of this I have drawn out:

They hit it off, and marry in 1993. Their first and only child is born two years later and they love him half to death. Everything is more or less nice and normal. 

In 1996, Mike stumbles into “proof,” more or less, of the theory of everything being a singular, solvable equation through his work, practically by accident, and begins focused work on it with enthusiastic support from his wife. Life is going great, Cristina is promoted and the two are balancing things well enough. 

The boy shows little to no social development into his toddler years, but his parents don’t think much of it. His father was similar at his age; they’re not worried. They even go as far to say he’ll turn out just as ambitious and smart as his dad and relatives, coworkers and family friends go along with it, setting insanely high expectations for this literal three year old. Mike keeps working on his theory. 

The boy enters preschool at age four; still no improvement. Just isolates himself and draws indiscernible patterns on everything you put in front of him. His parents finally try to intervene to some degree, hiring private instructors and talking with some other psych/child development people they know through the university, to no avail. Nothing changes. He just stares off into space, doesn’t interact with any of them and supposedly doesn’t pay attention to lessons. He still isn’t speaking. Cristina is finally concerned

Around the same time, Mike makes a significant breakthrough in his work, gaining worldwide attention. He receives massive grants from in and outside of Oxford to continue his work, and quits his teaching job to make more time for the endeavor. Cristina is left as the family’s sole provider. She understands and is in agreement on that decision, that’s not the problem yet. The problem is that Mike is becoming more or less indifferent to their son hits five, not seeing any previously projected greatness he was supposed to have in his father’s footsteps. Cristina, much more conscious of balance in her life and how having kids works, isn’t sure what to make of that. Their relationship starts to strain. 

From there, as Mike keeps working, Cristina takes the kid to all sorts of specialists around England but none of them can pinpoint what’s “wrong” with him. She tries much more actively to connect with him like they’re telling her to (though she still enrolls him in the university’s affiliated primary school program, against their suggestions), bringing him everywhere. Buys him little memory games since that’s all that seems to hold his attention. She’s past any belief of him being some secret genius like his dad, not that her opinion of her husband is super positive at this point anyway. She’s just dead-set on her son having some sense of normal in his life. 

By 2002, Mike has completely secluded himself and works nearly constantly. He has made no progress on his theory since 1999 and the fame garnered from his breakthrough has faded. The family is running out of money and Cristina is exhausted. The boy is ostracized at school and still (almost) totally nonverbal. Her coworkers keep suggesting these weird holistic remedies that she refuses. She knows better than to fall for all that new age, pyramid scheme bullshit. 

The son’s condition, whatever it is, worsens until mom, desperate, puts her foot down in 2008 (or “gives up,” if you wanna put it like that) and drags her husband and son to this private practice in Scotland she was told about by a friend, suspicious but ready to put up with anything at this point. 

😐👍

[quirkthieves]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: viverra ! but ive also been called vixen, dogma, gabe, etc. any works

PRONOUNS : he/him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : big big fan of discord. tumblr ims are hard for me to read </3

NAME OF MUSE(s) : monoma neito, ibara shiozaki, chitose kizuki/curious, kaina tsutsumi/lady nagant, setsuna tokage, ryo inui/hound dog, natsuo todoroki, kendou itsuka, hinata haruka, nobimaru, inari yoko, marik ishtar, ishizu ishtar, rishid ishtar, atem, and lacramioara strigoi.

jesus christ who let me do this

BEST EXPERIENCE : ummm gee okay i cant just name one it turns out life is actually about the accumulation of small joys and not just a few big ones but every time i get in the car and listen to my music and go OH! THIS REMINDS ME OF THIS PERSONS MUSE AND OUR DYNAMIC! or when talking to people inspires me to draw little comics (esp while im at work let me live) it really just makes me so so happy

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : im pretty chill for the most part i think like ive definitely mellowed out a lot over the past few years but. i gotta say it:

formatting. the over-formatting of everything is killing me. i cant read most peoples carrds. i dont even know how they read it, because of how insanely tiny the text is. eye strain colors, hard to see icons, weird fonts... i dont mind a little bit of formatting, naturally, like go girl give us everything, but its getting to the point of being genuinely frustrating that almost every new blog i encounter has me fighting for my life just trying to learn the important info. i have visual and neurological issues please lord im only seven

MUSE PREFERENCES: seconding cam on if the "when someones pulled a muse apart like the spaghettification of a star and then put them back together". its fascinating. i think the fun part about rp is that i get just as invested in my partners character and what they get out of each thread as much as i do mine, so when people sit there and talk about their ideas and meta and really dig into that thing like . WHOOO NOW WE'RE COOKING

PLOTS OR MEMES : I like both! I think memes are good to kick things off regardless, and I dont mind building off of it. I like to plot a lot ooc but more in a loosey-goosey kind of way; i really like to get to know other muns and their characters and also talking is just sort of how i think through things so its very helpful to me. i also just get a lot of ideas because these things live rent free in my head but to me a natural progression is more important than like, sticking to a script.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : i write insanely long replies because i have things wrong with me. theres NEVER any pressure to length match-- a lot of the time im just doing it to establish exposition or setting so the other person finds it easier to work with. just give me something i can work with and we are a ok :D

BEST TIME TO WRITE : it really depends... i typically end up writing in the evening/afternoon because of my schedule. i think the biggest thing is that i work on weekends, so you may only hear from me ooc on those days. im also really trying to fix my sleep schedule.........to varying levels of success. sometimes the thread is too good

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : just talking about monoma here... i've also got a pretty snappy mouth and natural love of finding loopholes, but i just went into paralegal instead of making it class A's problem. i also love to laugh, but id like to think im a lot less meanspirited about it

tagged: @dynmghts

tagging: @veroxins @cloistress @killerhubby @enignoema @eclipsemuses @yeonban @starshinc @ofluminance @paracide @ohcruel

[jackiequick]

— A trip to New Mexico, how fun right? Well, sorta! | Marvel Phase 1 FanFic

Timeline: Set during Iron Man 2 and in between Thor

Summary: Coulson was assigned to go see what the hell was happening in New Mexico and decided he might need, more like want, some assistance and who better to keep watch of the town than a blast from the past SHIELD agent?

Pairing: Coulson & Underwood, Darcy Lewis & Jason Underwood and etc.

Established uncle & nephew relationship: Tony Stark & Jason Underwood

Characters/mentioned: Clint Barton, Rei Stark, Jane Foster, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff and etc.

Click here if you like to read the previous fic

—//—

The day was young and the sun was still shining among the city across Miami into the Stark Mansion. Pepper was off at Stark Industries with Natalie Rushman, who’s real name is Natasha Romanoff, meanwhile Jason took care of the business around the household. It’s been rather hectic lately so someone at least needed to make sure no one starved and everything was well taken care of.

He thanked god his grandnephew, Rei Stark, beautiful mother was taking care of the boy this week. Because then, they would have another mystery on their hands with how curious that child can secretly be.

He was answering a few questions about a financial calls in the living room and flipping across channels on the TV that involves news about the latest Stark Expo, stuff involving Dr. Bruce Banner, The Feltons daily news and information about The Strange Family son, Leonard Strange.

As well as a small crisis forming in New Mexico appeared on various news channels. He rolled his eyes knowing S.H.I.E.L.D. was probably getting word of it already and coming to—

Suddenly the floor started rumbling loudly underneath his feet and the other things started shaking. He quickly turned over to catch a lamp that almost tipped over and crashed.

His eyes widen and shouted into the phone, “I’ll have to call you back, Laura!”

He swiftly made his way down the stairs to see the basement turned open floor lab was being destroyed. And in the middle of it stood his only nephew holding back a jackhammer as AC/DC blasted into the headphones he was wearing. So he wasn’t actually listening or notice him standing there.

“HEY! BOB THE BUILDER CUT IT OUT!” Jason shouted stumbling through the rubble, deeply crackled opened walls and dirty floors that surrounded them.

If his eyes couldn’t widen even more, his eyes darted down to the 1970 model of Stark Expo he helped design decades ago laying on the ground. The model that both Stark siblings, were discussing on becoming something evolutionary different for the world. He wasn’t as smart as them to understand everything they studied and created but he understood it was far too important to not model the idea.

He reached forward lace his fingers crossed the model and questioned, “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?” Repiled the A.I.

“What is this? I mean, what is he building?”

“It’s to be believed Mr. Stark has discovered a New Element and is determined to use it to power his suit for a greater timeframe.”

“A new element? Damn. Alright, turn the music off.”

JARVIS did what was told as he unwired Tony’s music as the brunette genius shouted confused and insulted by the actions. Until his eyes fell on his uncle with a nod, “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replied removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re creating a new element, i see.”

“Yup! After 20 years, dad is still taking me to school and I’m surprised I’ve haven’t seen it sooner.”

“Because it wasn’t time for you figure it out eariler. Need help?”

“Seriously?”

“You ruined my floor.”

“That’s means your helping!”

“But your cleaning up afterwards.”

“Damn it.”

The two got to work, opening walls, expanding wires, lengthened the tunnels across the room. Tony coined it ‘hardware mood’, using his hands to create the lengthy contraction instead of his machinery. ‘Going old school’ as Jason liked to call it, pulling apart drilling into the tunnels and adding placements to the sections.

It placed looked insanely messy but you knew where everything is.

By the time, Tony was drilling in something the door to the basement opened as Agent Phil Coulson walked in saying, “I heard you broke the perimeter.”

“Uh, yeah that was 3 years ago, where you’ve been?” Tony replied, walking over to the tunnels and vents they built. 

“Doing some stuff.”

“Yeah well, me too and it worked.”

Both men chatted, as Tony wondered around the room grabbing items as Coulson picked up a half built Shield that could’ve belong to Captain America. That was when Jason stepped into the picture returning with another box of tools, cables and basic hardware.

The blonde smirked snatching up the item, showing it to Tony who’s face light up, having Coulson help them put the Shield underneath the tunnels to level it. Perfectly leveled.

“I’m busy, what you want?” Tony said, receiving a light slap on the arm from Jason due to the attitude he gave Coulson, “Ow!”

Coulson held back a small chuckled, “Goodbye. I’ve been reassigned, director Fury wants me in New Mexico.”

“Fantastic. Land of enchantment.”

“Or so I’m told.”

Jason spoke up, “The small crisis in New Mexico, involving the decency sized craters with a hammer smacked in the middle of it?”

“Good, your informed.” Coulson added with a half smile.

“I saw the news.”

“I would like you to come, Stark seems to be handling things here perfectly well.”

“Yeahhh. Nope! I’m retired.”

“Never too late to jump back in the game.”

“And I’m busy.”

Tony gave his uncle a look to go do it and get out of the house, that he can handle everything from here. He weighted his options, not wanting to leave his house unsupervised and tired of going deep into SHIELD missions, he rather likes retirement.

“I don’t know, man. Again, I’ve been retired for more than 15 freaking years.” Jason exclaimed.

Coulson thought for a moment, he really wanted to have company for a couple of days and said, “You only need to scout the town and see what’s happening.”

“Undercover work?”

“Yes. Only for 4 days, i promise than you can come back.”

“2 days. I’m only doing simple work, let me remind you that i rather not mess with the others there.”

“Fine by me. Waiting for you in the car.”

Tony giggled at the speechless face his uncle made. It was priceless! He told him to go ahead with Coulson for a few short days, he promised he won’t reck the house, hopefully. Plus he knew the man had a suitcase still packed from their trip to France upstairs.

He sent a playful glare to his nephew, grabbing his things and met Phil outside.

The man drove them to New Mexico, taking stops to stretch their legs and eat on the way there. Both men chatted to keep the time at ease, having respect for one another and actually enjoying the company. Phil Coulson wasn’t a half bad, but that doesn’t mean he won’t heist to tease him.

“So, how’s the thing with May going?” Jason let out ever so causal, sipping a bottle of water.

Phil blinked hearing him and awkwardly blushed, “I—i-how did you know that?”

“I heard of the story that you were on a undercover mission with her and a few interactions were made.”

“It was completely professional.”

“Oh, so taking 2 minutes to unhook her bra was professional?”

“There were cameras! I was trying to sell that we were together.”

Jason snickered, “Oh yeah according to her, you sold it.”

“That was an act for the camera!” Coulson added trying to defend himself, “So you and May talk, huh?”

“Quite a bit. Her emails about you are hilarious.”

“Remind me to call her later. And i will have you know, I was being a gentleman.”

“Oh yeah, of course Phil. You were committed.”

“I think i did alright. You think i was committed?”

“Your one of a kind, Coulson. Don’t ever change.”

The rest of the ride meant a few jokes here and there, stopping for snack break and bringing up movies along with latest shows on TV. There were a few mishaps and things that needed to be taken care of during their stops.

They arrived soon enough to New Mexico, as an SHIELD base was already being formed around the outsets of the town nearby the crater that held the hammer. The moment they exist the car, Jason slid down darting to examine the hammer in awe. Plenty of people tried surrounding and lifting the metallic gray block from the ground but it didn’t seem to budge at all. 

“Wow..” muttered Jason, giving a once over to Phil who snapped pictures.

The carvings were immaculate, the lining was framed perfectly, the engraved symbols were placed in a fitting manner. The hammer looked one of a kind. Magical. Ungodly amount of time and effort was made into making it. Jason must admit he gave credit to the people who shaped such a glorified item.

Hell, the man stepped over looping the brown handled into his grip trying to lift it himself. He grunted and huffed, taking a couple of breaths trying his mightiest to lift the god damn hammer. But nothing! It didn’t even bother to slightly budge for him. He sighed, releasing the grip of the handle and stomped up to the previous stop he want in.

“Anything?” Coulson asked, humoring his attempt to lift the hammer.

“Nope.” He replied, huffing and massaging his grip, “That thing is stuck!”

“Yikes. Here’s the deal, your gonna get a change on clothes then scout the town.”

“How about you? Gonna try and lift it yourself?”

“Haha! No, I’m handling a few pressing matters and help set up the base of operations.” 

Jason nodded walking back to the car, he seemed out of breath from trying to lift the god damn hammer. It was super glued to the ground, not even trucks and machines with horsepower could even remove it from the ground.

He found himself a nicely fresh change of causal clothes. Being a brown jacket with a olive green t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of his favorite classic sneaker. Along with a pair of simple sunglasses that were gifted by Pepper last Christmas. He carried his old school SHIELD ID, walkie-talkie and a handheld gun in his pocket. Just in case.

The man wondered around town, taking notice of the simplicity of it all. The houses, buildings, stores that held the items needed to built a good foundation, a general grocery store, a diner that held the delicious smell of pies, a bar and plenty of other places to visit. It made him smile. He liked it a lot, especially since the afternoon sun shinned just right above the cloud, giving the waves a cozy breath of fresh air.

He enjoyed it.

He walked around, entertaining himself at a coffee shop nearby the gas station. He was waiting in line, reading the signs on the wall and giving small nods to older folk or pregnant women who walked past him, letting them go in front of him. He wasn’t in a hurry to get out or anything, his job was the scout the town and see what type of people they’re dealing with.

And so far? Everyone seemed to be general folk living their day to day lives, working 9-5 meanwhile the teenagers and children were out at school or something.

Everything was going good until he was accidentally bumped into by someone.

He didn’t see the person, only what dropped on the floor next to his feet. A older brunette doll, that was wearing a purple dress, a white lab coat, strapless heels and a ponytail. Alongside a pair of sunglasses on the doll. Looked more like an cool action figure than a doll, designed by wonderfully crafty people.

Little did he know that the young girl who this doll belonged to would be important to him later on. As well as the mother.

He chuckled as his eyes darted up to the person, “Hey sweetheart, I believe this is yours?”

The young girl turned around, her red skirt bouncing in the wind from the movement she was making and fixing her crafty jacket a bit, pushing up her bangs to face the man. Her big brown eyes were covered by square frames. Along with adorable dimples.

“Ohh? Oh! I’m sorry mister..” She repiled shyly with a smile, and gently taking the doll from him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t want to lose her, she’s smart.” He replied with a smile.

“Yeah my doll is a scientist! She’s love coffee, dresses in purple and uh, stuff.

“Hahaha. That’s amazing, um sweetie?

“Hmm?”

“Sorry to ask, but um where’s your mama?”

“Uh, she’s getting extra coffee from her and a few friends.”

“And she left you alone?”

“I’m not that’s little, you know. I’m 15–16!…ish, very soon.”

“Child. You’re still a child.”

“I’m almost 16, sir.! Sorry for shouting.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright.”

He was just about to ask her name when..

“Mew Mew!”

Came a voice, sounding it belonged a women. She ran up to them, holding a box of donuts and a two cups of coffee. The women seemed to a short brunette with long curls, a beanie that bounced with her every step and glasses. She was pretty! Her features matched the young girl perfectly, it made him smile knowing that her mother returned quickly.

“Mew Mew, i told you to stay put, sweetie.” Said the mother with a smile pushing up her glasses, sounding sweetly protective of the girl.

“I’m sorry, i had to throw out my trash mom.” Apologized the young girl.

“At least tell me where you’re going next time. This place is sorta crowded. You almost gave me a huge fright!”

“I’m sorry. I will tell you next time. But I’m okay! I promise!”

The brunette noticed the man and said, “I’m so sorry about her! She just ran off and i had no idea what happened..i hope she wasn’t too much trouble or anything.”

That was when Jason spoke up with a politic tone replying, “Oh no! It’s completely alright, you know how kid—I mean, teens are. Just be lucky, it was me who found her and not some other guy.”

“You have kids? I mean no offense, your like a young and tall bachelor.”

He chuckled, “That i know of, I have one. He’s at home with family.”

“You’re new around here, huh?” She questioned with a smile.

“It’s obvious isn’t it?”

“YUP! I mean the jacket means your suitable and out of town, no offense.”

“None taken. I’m just here for two days, I needed some rest from a long trip.”

She smiled, “Well you pick a odd place to stop. Oh well, welcome to New Mexico. I’m Darcy and you already met Mew Mew.”

“Melissa!” Cut in the young girl, with a grin.

Jason nodded with a small laugh and decided to use a nickname of his, “Nice to meet both of you. I’m JJ.”

“JJ, huh?” Darcy challenge with a smile, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll find out my real name later, if your lucky.”

“Well i like it! It’s cute. Oh I’m sorry again for taking up your time.”

“It’s okay, doll. No one was breaking any bylaws or anything. You seem like your in a hurry as well?”

“Oh yes! Meeting up a fews friends of mine for breakfast and stuff. Oh shit, we’re running late. Thanks again, JJ!”

“No problem! Be careful and stay safe out there.”

The women walked away with a smile, glancing back at him thinking about something as her daughter waved at the man. He chuckled, waving goodbye to the pair noticing he was finally next in line and made a quiet order. He thanked the sweet barista with a charming smile, who giggled softly at his politeness, as he made his way around town. 

His thought went back to the women he met earlier, Darcy, and her grinning daughter. They seemed like kind folk, but a part of him felt like he seen something in Darcy’s face before. Like he met a version of her in the past. Maybe her mother or an older sister? He didn’t know what it was, but he felt calm and a bit like himself around her aura.

He smiled.

Moments like that made him feel good. He has seen and met plenty of faces beforehand in his life. People on missions, dates he was dragged into going on, parties he danced at, walks in the park and just faces that made him feel a sense of déjà vu. A charming old feeling, per say.

As he scout the town, he scanned the area and the people, when suddenly he heard it. A loud banging tune. A righteous voice that could sent a smile to any man or women who met them. His face whipped around to hiding across the corner of a store, noticing the group.

A short light haired brunette with a beauty mark, an older man dressed in a patterned shirt and a tall blonde wearing a brownish jacket. And next to them stood Darcy, along with her daughter. But his eyes bounced back to the voice.

The mannerisms of the blonde haired man held such strong attitude towards the others around him. Tall and muscular like he was meant to do business with someone. The voice was righteously kind and oddly enough to seem like he lost his footing. His young facial features made him look like he was sculpture by…

A god.

Jason smirked. Pulling out his phone, he called Coulson, simply saying, “I think I found your sources, Phil…”

——

He returned back to the base of operations.

It was jarring scurrying up the step, having not been in a SHIELD makeshift office for more or less 15 years. Practically 20 years! A heat wave hit him. The man would’ve shivered at the thoughts and memories that had the option to wash over him.

He snapped back towards Coulson watching the man work, watching scanners and scouts shouting loudly across the room. He even noticed a blonde man dressed in black in the corner, tightening his arrowheads giving him a small nod, acknowledging him.

“Phil. We have your guy.” Jason spoke with a clear voice, catching the people in the room’s attention.

He explains to Coulson to try getting into contact with a Dr. Jane Foster and her little group of misfits, collecting as much information they can. Coulson was impressed by hearing this, already on the same page before he showed up finding information about Dr. Foster, calling orders to everyone who was in the area.

Jason nodded, about to walk out when somebody tossed a gun at him. He caught it and examined the weapon. A position for a sharp shooter.

“Hey—wait, no! Coulson, we had a deal. I ain’t doing this. I did the light work you asked for.” Yelled out the blonde following the agent across the halls.

“Yeah well, I had other plans. I figured you’ll like to get a front row seat on the action, high up.” Coulson said, with a small smile, “If he shows up.”

“Whatever you plan on doing, you better keep an eye on them and make sure no harm comes to them. Their group had a child with them.”

“Relax Wood—”

“Underwood.”

“Sorry, Underwood. I won’t harm anyone, we just need to speak to that one guy. I promise we’ll try to play it safe, but we don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

“You’re window with me will be closing very soon, Coulson. So make it quick, then I’m out.”

“Crystal clear, Underwood. But I do have a question, why did you come?”

He blinked and just shrugged, he really didn’t know the true answer to that question. He thought about it, trying to word it in his mind the best he can, leaving out a few details for himself.

“Because my nephew wanted me out of the house..and I-I had no other choice but to make sure SHIELD that knows what they’re doing…I’ve seen the records and it’s utter chaos.” He answered softly.

Coulson nodded and pressed, “We’re trying to fix it as we go along, I promise. Why did you retire? You know either way, it won’t last. You will always have a part of you that wants to come back to this..I mean look at your life now.”

Jason didn’t answer him this time, just walked away with a grip on the rifle. He knew the plenty of reasons why he retired and honestly he enjoyed retirement, hoping to get this job done. But it won’t say most of it out loud himself.

———

This time, we was perched on a high level outside with the archer he saw earlier. Clint Barton.

The man wasn’t half bad. Snarky, has a murder stare he can appreciate, very knowledgeable about stuff and honestly a pretty chill guy. Along with a bit grumpy due to the rain.

In the New Mexico, it was raining again. The last two days have on and off again rain with sun and wind. Mother Nature didn’t seem too happy. Some agents didn’t mind it meanwhile the others were annoyed by it.

He doesn’t mind the rain too much.

“So, you’re the guy Nat was telling me about?” Clint said after a few minutes of silence between them.

Jason was hunched over readjusting his gun, and looked over his shoulder heading him, “What?”

“Natasha. She told me about you.”

“Uh, Clint, I don’t know a Natasha, buddy.”

He chuckled, “Ohhhh! You don’t know? Your women from legal, Natalie Rushman, is actually an agent of ours..”

“The fuck?” Jason let out, taking a moment to connect the dots and groaned, “God damn it! Pepper hired her, and didn’t even notice the clues.”

“Ah, well, she’s good at her job! Could fool anyone. She’s a widow for gods sakes!”

‘So was my big sister..’ He thought to himself, before adding, “Yeah, she fooled me. Uh, what did she say about me?”

“That you’re agile, smart, kind.” Clint snorted, “And bit of a grump. No offense! She likes to tell me about her missions and the people she meets, but she doesn’t know much about you..”

“And I like to keep it that way. For your knowledge and hers, I’m uh, just a family friend of Stark’s.”

“A very close one it seems. You didn’t seem like you wanted to leave the house.”

“Yeah well, someone needs to keep an eye on them. Enough about me, Clint, what about you?”

“Simple man like you, i guess. I remember wanting to work with SHIELD for a long time and I’ve been working 9-5 for some time now, trying to perfect my craft.  Oh, I have a beautiful fiancé not a lot of people know that.”

Anyone can see the soft grin on Clint’s face mentioning the last part. He seemed very proud of it, as if he was planning on starting a family with whoever this fiancé was. In result, it had Jason smiling.

“Treat her right, Barton.” Jason told him with a smile.

“I try.” Clint replied, “You got anyone?”

“Uh..um, it’s complicated.”

“How complicated?”

“I take girls out on dates but it never last.”

“Hmm! You need to try finding a girl outside of your usual spots.”

They waited. Wait long hours of the day, Clint on his leveled perched up with his bow and arrow. Jason on the other side, underneath an umbrella, his gun in hand, eyes narrow. It was dark, rainy, quiet, you couldn’t hear much. Only the ruffle of trees, wet sand being slouch around and machines working.

Until they heard it. The grunts, groans, yells and pure shouting that started picking up pace. The running from starts perked Jason and Clint up in positions.

Then the pair saw it, the situation of a tall, blonde man with full on muscles over his body. His wet hair and pissed off look that made him look like Zeus. Clint got a clean shot at him and Jason narrowed, his gun able to get a closer look.

“Damn he’s uh, good looking..” Jason muttered, couldn’t lie and thanked god his old friends weren’t here to make heart eye at him.

“Yeah he is..” Clint muttered back then started asking Coulson to fire, who ordered him to wait.

The tall blonde man raised growled and roared like a large monster of rage, his hands gripping onto the handle of the hammer. He smirked as he pulled and grunted waiting for a result, but nothing came. Just like when Jason pulled it earlier. No result.

However, this man looked upset, screaming and his knees fell to the ground. He looked defeated. Like dialing back on doing a simple task, like he meant to lift it. Jason blinked, trying to think onto what this god was trying to achieve!

‘God of what?’ He asked himself, watching the man to see if he would do anything else. A part of him might’ve been empathetic toward him, if he wasn’t standing the freaking rain roaring in defeat and annoyance.

He snapped out of this thoughts when Coulson called it. Jason ran down with other agents cuffing Thor wrists together. Clint lowers his bow and arrow. They brought him into a room to be interrogated by Phil Coulson, the blonde man stayed quiet the whole time…

—————

Coulson paced back and forth, he just wanted a name. He bite his nails. Proof that this man has something to hide for he can report back to Fury. Phil kept glancing at the monitors, watching this man’s movements. It wasn’t moving, just looking defeated.

Clint was doing research measures for this case, Jason watched the scanners. His eyes stayed on the blonde, wishing he heard his name earlier when he was scouting the town, but he didn’t. Darcy nor Jane Foster said his name. Jason narrowed in on the tall blonde recognizing something, trying to connect the dots.

He seems to be a strong man. Maybe we he brought to Earth due to a punishment? Did he screw up with somebody? Who made him this way? So many questions were running across his head, watching the clock.

Again, he recognized the look, the same one his nephew shared two years ago before announcing himself as Iron Man.

He’s in need of finding himself, grounding himself in humanity.

Coulson locked eyes with Jason, knowing his time was almost up. Less than 12 hours and he’ll be gone back to Miami. 

“You talk to him.” Phil remarked.

“What? No.” Jason rejected the request.

“We just need his name. He said he’s a god compared to the men here.”

“Every man thinks he’s a god. I’ve been near it, he’s just bluffing.”

“Exactly why you should go! Please, i just need it and we can focus our research with the equipment we stole from Foster.”

“You stole from Dr. Foster. Not me.”

Jason grumbled underneath his breath, reminding himself he’ll be gone soon. He walked away, removing his jacket and took a long sigh, sucking his teeth before entering the room.

~~~~

He entered the clear room, holding a glass of water for the man and a snack. A bag of chips he stole from the vending machines.

He sat down in the chair across from him, handing him the items.

“What’s this?” Asked the blonde, holding the glass of water and small bag.

“Water. I can promise you it’s not drugged or anything. You need it after taking out those men.” Jason explained, with a kindness in his tone.

“Why? Are you with them? Theses men. Son of Col and his soldiers.”

“Not exactly, your highness. I was just sent to scout the town and keep an eye on the people, especially after the ruckus at the moment.”

“You mean to cause me and theses humans harm then…?”

“No. I didn’t, that was Coulson’s doing. I didn’t know his intentions until now. He know he’s on a time crunch with me and he just ask one thing of you.”

“And what is that?”

Thor stayed silent, looking down after asking that question. He leaned against his chair, inching forward to drink the water and bag of the chips he was given. He was hungry and very much appreciated the small offering. He watched the man, sitting in front of him. He held such kindness, honesty and plenty of gruff to himself. As if he had a lot of trouble in his mind.

“Who are you?” Thor asked him, sipping his glass.

“Why would you like to know? He asked, rather intrigued by his eyes.

“You offered to show me a far cry of kindness.”

“Because, if you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people…”

Thor was honestly taking back by his words. Those were powerful enough just to be written in stone. He wondered if this man was playing a role or actually meant every word in that sentence. As if he lived plenty of lives, such as himself. A part of him choose to highly respect it.

“What’s your game, mortal?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“No, no game your highness. You have your secrets and so do i. And i can tell you don’t want to be here.” Jason told him honestly, “I’ll just like to know your name. Please?”

“..I’m Thor. Son Of Odin.”

“Your a god..?”

“Yes. What do you mean by the question?”

“A man of your status must’ve been sent here for a reason, my lord.”

“I was casted out of my home for being a ruckus and disobeying my orders…but i can assure you, I didn’t mean to cause you harm..”

“I can tell. Thor, i don’t know how long you’ve been here on Earth but what I’m about to say might ease your thoughts.”

“Hm?”

“You were sent here to learn a lesson. I can only imagine what it might be, however that’s for you figure out.”

“A lesson?”

“There’s always trials and errors to overcome. And I believe you might have to learn something from being among us humans..”

The god of thunder stayed silent simply nodded, listening to him as his mind ran with billions of thoughts. Jason stood up from his chair thanking him for that small information and he’ll request for Thor to be released soon enough.

He was about to leave the room when the god of thunder stop him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his blue eyes pooling and twirling in curiosity.

He looked over his shoulder with a simple half smile, “Jason Underwood, your majesty.”

With that last comment he left, telling Clint what he found from his conversation with the blonde. It wasn’t much, he wasn’t going to tell Barton about what exactly happened in that room. Keeping that information private until further notice. He only said that his name was ‘Thor’ and that he’s a god.

Clint nodded taking note of what was said to tell Coulson later. Jason nodded, snatching up his keys. His work here was done. He hoped.

He took the first chance he got, returning back to his motel to pack his things and head back home.

The man was driving to Miami turning back the radio, when he received a call from James Rhodes. Rhodey was telling him what recently happened with Tony, the fight with Pepper, the issue with his suits and whatnot. Along with the fact that Tony decided to take off in his suit and sat on a giant freaking donut. It was a rather long list.

“He did what?!”

Was all Jason yelled out the phone, as he reached a red light.

As if he week couldn’t get any weirder…

—//—

Thanks for reading this story! Also is this my soft reboot of a cooler sweeter MCU? Yes. Yes it is.

Did you catch the two pop culture references? ;)

Pls reblog, like, share and comment for more

Tags: @mandylove1000 @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @triptuckers @rooster-84 @sherloquestea @meiramel @hangmanbrainrot @morgan108 @eliohasmyheart @blackheart-beauty @yetanotherwells @savemewattpad @blueboirick and etc

[louisisalarrie]

Louis doing festivals surely help LT3 to rise, also FITFWT may not been a sold out world tour but it was by far a great tour than LTWT. Yall put Louis down here so much. You guys dont have any faith in him

I think people are just curious and passionate to understand marketing strategies and what makes a successful career.

The majority of folks in my inbox are just curious about solutions and how we can get bigger numbers to shows - it’s not putting him down, it’s wanting him to slay the world and with our support, he can.

It’s about understanding the little intricacies which can really push a career either up or into the ground, and learning, and when we discuss and pull ideas together… well, that’s where the fan projects are born.

There are a lot of folks who don’t understand a lot about the industry, PR, marketing, management etc., so it’s natural to want to learn more. And I try to help on here in the ways I can.

In my opinion, louis is doing a slow, but steady, rise and fitfwt went really well for him and he’s killing it. I discuss things his team could do better at, and how he himself could grow, but ultimately, I think his career is working for him the way he wants it to. People are just curious, that’s all. And discussions where we pick apart things into little bits are constructive, and listening to the fans and what they want is what artists and their teams need to do more of. It’s important.

Anyway, I can understand it can be a bit nitpicky and exhausting but at the end of the day, we’re just chatting and engaging in conversations with how the different members of 1d’s solo careers are going, because the majority of ex boybanders fail within that first year or two of going solo. We just care, that’s all!

But also the fans are bored. There’s no engagement on Louis or Harry’s behalf’s rn apart from the little HLD updates we see, and louis’ somewhat irregular festival appearances for the next little while. All is well, and we all love louis. That’s the main thing :)

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

You’re welcome for the asks, got some more for you :)

1: do they give each other piggy back rides?

2: how often do they hang out besides at school? Everyday, once a week, etc

3: when Jake performs a wedgie on a goon does he pull the waistband up or pulls the part of the underwear underneath the butt up? Also I can see him pulling the underwear down causing Chris to cover his eyes XD

4: do they plus mar’i have any mental issues besides PTSD? Like OCD, autism, etc…

5: what was Chris’s relationship like with Jon & Kon when he first joined the family?

6: what’s their favorite thing to do in December?

1. Oh most certainly they will, especially after long missions and patrol nights should either of them be exhausted. Despite Jake’s insistence and the few exceptions he’s been able to, majority of the time, Chris is the one carrying Jake like that. Jake doesn’t mind it too much though, he’s quite used to it and if anything it’s as comfortable as when his Big Sis and Uncle Tim(my) piggyback carry him

2. About Every Once a week, mainly at their respective central city parks if crime rates are relatively slow or maybe even if they have their allowances saved up, at their local theme park packed with massive roller coasters, arcade games and snack stalls. Usually they go there for testing new dares in said roller coasters or if new rides are built and open. Plus also, numerous ride photos they post later online because it’s always fun to look out how much either they freak out or even not when in a coaster train going at 75 mph down 189 ft.

3. He always aims for the waistband as he has the strength to successfully lift the crook with even a single arm without any fabric being ripped apart. Plus while that sounds funny, even Jake knows a bit better than going that far with pantsing crooks. That’s more or less actually something Lian as Speedy would do with her arrows, courtesy of being trained be her dad.

4. As explained, Chris can reasonably be diagnosed with C-PTSD and Anxiety Disorder due to his past with his birth Father and all the horrors he had bare witnessed to even prior to meeting Clark.

Now as for Mar’i, she herself has so far not displayed major symptoms of mental disorders but is nonetheless researching on the subject so she can properly understand to the best of her abilities how it works and what are the best treatments when those conditions are active, so that she can be a comforting presence for a prison suffering a mental breakdown.

Then there’s Jake. Prior to his duel with Zsasz, he already exhibited some symptoms of social anxiety, especially prominent almost every single start of a school year which has new teachers, new potential classmates to meet, new expectations and an overall feeling of a differing crowds to try blending into from before, making it difficult for him to feel like he fits in.

Post Zsasz, though no doubt he exhibits symptoms of PTSD, haunted in his mind more so by the gruesome marks and wounds those poor orphans in that orphanage he investigate were left in, no doubt in his mind in betting that they actively suffered being their lives end. The fact many of those slain orphans were around his age range with 8 years at youngest and 12 at oldest, he feels a sense of survivor’s guilt and shame in that he feels he could’ve saved them had he only known. Couple that with how sadistic, cruel and diabolical Zsasz himself was in their duel with each thrust, swipe and twisting of that blade onto his then powerless self at that very duel, he perfectly then understood what those orphans had felt and likely would’ve died the same exact way had it not been for the timely intervention of his allies that moment (whether it be Chris in the revised version or his family in the original version as seen in my fic ‘Broken Wings’).

5. With Jon, the then 4 year old was curious and quickly ecstatic of having a big brother to be around, like having a brand new friend. Chris was very first was a tad nervous around Jon, afraid to hurt or scare him away with his background and where he came from. But over the course of the first few weeks of staying over, Chris started clicking with Jon all too easily as they bonded with numerous brotherly things they did together, helped along by Clark being there for the both.

Then there’s Conner, who first emerged at least in the timeline around when Chris and Jon were 7 and 5 respectively in the aftermath of the emergence and defeat of Doomsday (Clark himself actually survived this encounter but he was left in critical condition and taken to a hospital. However the press had claimed of Superman being killed in the process and Clark had lost his powers for a good while. It was in the period between this Doomsday encounter and Clark’s powers being restored did Conner, Steel, Eradicator and Cyborg Superman arise to fill in for his role).

Conner had thought of Chris like someone that embodies the awkward nature of his relationship with Clark, in that Clark was so quick to take in this unrelated child yet with him there seems being some sort of rift from the get go. Conner can understand where that rift comes from but it still annoyed him a bit. He didn’t wanna break Chris and Jon’s hearts though so he accepts looking over them whenever Clark, Lois and Kara were extra busy.

During these times they stay with him, mainly at Martha and Pa’s place at Smallville, he finds a sort of kinship with the boys. The fact they look up to him as a big superhero and are awe of his own tales of hero work while being all the cool certainly helps. Sure he twitches every time they refer to him as ‘Superboy’ instead of ‘Superman’ but it’s the thought and appreciation that truly counts. It’s about weeks of doing this and having the bond firmly in place when Conner begins to think of maybe….making these two as cool as him one day, as he’ll show them the right way of being a superhero.

6. Since both Hamilton County and Bludhaven can get a good amount of snow fall and frozen lakes that are available for skating, making snow angels, building snow replicas of Haley and Krypto and even some hockey on said frozen lakes with their siblings are what I envision Chris and Jake doing in December, let alone the winter

[lilflowerpot]

I just wanna say I just read little blade and on chapter 4 I could 100% imagine the look Lotor had on his face when he called Keith magnificent! You described it so absolutely amazingly that I swr I could see the fanart before it was made!! I also wanna ask a question that came from that chapter as well. Looking at the way you describe galra history, I'm very curious on your thought process🤔 you describe it as if you did research on a real culture and I wanted to know how much of it was actually made up and if you were inspired by anything? Once more I love little blade and the side series of the characters reacting to the two! Please do keep up the good work 😁

🥰🥰🥰 ahhhh thank you my darling!!

As for my process behind developing the galra history & culture, the majority of my initial ideas and concepts (though especially those I introduce in LB's earliest chapters) are largely plucked from my own imagination as a result of me sitting down with myself and playing around with what canon gave us for the purposes of further expanding upon it. Broadly speaking, I suppose was inspired by the Roman Empire because vld's creators clearly were (something I've spoken about in great detail previously) so I couldn't have ignored that overt core influence even if I'd wanted to; if I were to trace my thought processes back, however, I'd have to say that a great deal of them have in some distant way stemmed from my phenotype theory, as the diverse physiology of the galra indicated a historic diversity of environment, which in turn impacted how the cultures of their various ancestors should logically have developed (environment dictates weather, resources, potential threats, etc.) because a nomandic desert culture is obviously going to stand distinctly apart from a stationary jungle one.

So,,,, I suppose a lot of it was just logical progression regarding which behaviours/beliefs/traditions made sense in the context?

Most of my heavy research came later and was prompted by questions I received on here, as people would—and still do!—ask after such interesting particulars that I find myself continually challenged to consider all manner of niche topics in significant depth. If a concept is directly inspired by something from the real world, I tend to link it in the relevant post, but there are some things I've created that are almost entirely pulled out of my own head (my post on religion is a prime example of this) so it varies greatly!

[fatummortem]

Meet the Mun

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

Erm.. Let's see... Just skip to a muse lol.

Rosie, a friend suggested her some twenty years ago for this elite comic book RP guild. She's the only one I kept from that time. I never heard of her before that & when I read her I remember saying 'she's such an angsty little shit. I love her.'. Her background is like casebook 'what happens if you have a poor support system' in a way.

Ryouta (daken/fang canonly), well he's that guilty pleasure villain everyone enjoys reading about for me I suppose. In another way I get curious about nurture vs nature. Which is something intertwined with his chara i think. (it's a dark past) What inspired me to write him, well he had a slow progression away from his villainess nature you could say. And I am a sucker for growth. It was his appearance's in All New Wolverine that made me go 'oh i'm going to write him'.

Somnus somehow turns stabby villains into teddy bears and i thought it was hilarious.

Bobby, well I wanted a silly gay polyamorous muse & I had been itching to write him for awhile but at the same time wanted to write with a Bobby more so held off. Gave in about a year back i think?

Malicia, well she's pretty AU of one of my favourite comic charas growing up. And well I'm a tad nervous writing her main verse so I just did something with a twist for fun.

TJ I've written a few times over the years. Normally when a friend has me going 'Hell yeah!'. One time I believe a friend was making a Blink (the bestie). This time around I started talking to a few friends about her & then got to talking with Armin about her relationship with her dad. A similar thing happened with Billy. I ended up bringing him back after talking with a friend who writes his twin Tommy. As for originally, I sadly do not recall.

Cloud, well as I said i'm a sucker for growth & his story is full of it. I also enjoy picking apart ways people display or write PTSD & show how it can be displayed in society or be a danger creatively. I also have PTSD, which can range on my reactions to things depending on my environment. So in a way it's one of the ways I learn about myself. Though his mental state has more of a twist to it as he has the lifestream & Jenova influences. Which can come across as confusing as it can seem similar to different forms of DID.

I also have a disability involving memory and memory issues brought on from trauma. So it kinda pulled me in more, I normally don't write muses that are popular to write or I lose the want to write them quickly. Which is not the case with Cloud, he's my rule or norm breaker. (might be why I'm not writing Tifa or Zack tho I'll be honest)

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

Erm *nibbles pen* flat out don't like? Random bits of rage filling arguments. Thought that's mostly when Anons do it. Mainly for the fact it doesn't go anywhere. I prefer my angst long lasting & with the ability to have a back & forth.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

There's a lot of things. Slow burns. Small bits of seriousness that leads to progression of a relationship (friendship or ship). Crack seriousness (threads where you have to squint to see the crack), Smut (picky with that), Angsty pain, healthy ships, snarky *jazz hands* ships, Silly friend/fam moments. etc...

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

^_^; So I have the habit, of writing detailed notes & accumulate data (websites, youtube videos, games/comics what have you). I normally write detailed dossiers but lately they turn into 10+ page essays so I've been slapping on wiki pages. Clouds is mostly how his mental state is, how it works & alters along with a lot of lore on locations and Materia to help myself & it's mostly jumbled quick notes with no flow. yeah i just went 'i'll put this over here for later'.

But I basically bury myself within a segment of lore to work it through my head a few times. Then I try to see if I can make it fit into how I feel I'd like to write the muse. Comics can be a bit tricky because there's no mainline writer or books get canceled, one writer makes what another put in place meaningless.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

Both! it really depends on my mood, if i'm into the music if my muse wants to jam so on so forth...

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

Both! It depends. For close connections or like someone that might be someone mine knows I can ask peeps questions to get an idea of a same flow or idea going. Other times I'll wing it entirely while some i'll just give a brief info dump and ask if someone down for it. Then there's plotting while the thread is being written just to throw out ideas or okay things. There's also the excitement of eating popcorn just because I'm wondering if it'll turn tortuously cute or like a thriller in the next few goes depending on what's going on. xD

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

I love ships ^_^ especially when ya talk hcs or just build upon things slowly. I have a weakness for slow burns ^_^;

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

I'm Glow, lovely to meetcha. ^_^

ᴀɢᴇ?

My siblings went to see ET in the movie theatre when I was born.

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

June 18th.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

The shade black, any shade of purple tho normally lavander, any shade of blue, a few shades of red.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

It actually alters over time so it's hard to tell. Currently have 'let it snow' stuck in my head if that counts.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Uh, went with a friend to see Elementals awhile back

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Murder Drones or Hazbin Hotel? Kiddo is heavily into them right now & I try to get into her fandoms

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

the Alexa at work has the habit of throwing on death metal when I'm there so idek.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

Mmmmm, Gumbo but not that northern watered down gumbo the Cajun one where you wheeze and shove bread in your mouth after a few spoonful's. ohhhh homemade Cheesecake with pralines crushed into the bottom layer & drizzled over the top. Mongolian grill with crab & steam mixed heavily with veggies & my own sauce cocktail. Red beans & rice but not the cheap ass sausage, ya need the good stuff or it tastes wrong. Slow cooked in a way where the-- ya shouldn't ask a cook about food.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Rainy Summers

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I doo~ Does it count if most of them aren't around anymore? I have a few here abouts too.

Tagged by: @lastflowerpetal

Tagging: I never know who's been tagged already, so if you wish to just tag me in it so I can take a gander. ^_^

[urmomification]

spiderman steve au

- he lives in new york w his roommate billy

- they're more just roommates than actual friends, they aren't close but sometimes watch movies together etc

- billy notices that steve is weirdly secretive but mostly plays it up to him just being like that just kinda assumes that steve just likes his privacy

- steve Always keeps his bedroom locked when he's in there and the door closed when he isn't

- steve intentionally playing stupid to keep people off his trail (he makes all his own tech and stuff)

- steve will come home w an array of green yellow and purple bruises and cuts and never talks abt it

- one time he comes home w just abt the worst black eye billy's ever seen (and he's seen a lot)

- steve always plays it off tho, saying he tripped or something that clearly isn't true

- billy never presses it bc honestly he doesnt care enough to (doesnt stop him from being extraordinarily curious tho)

- like how is this pretty boy getting his shit rocked every other night and having nothing but shitty lies to cover it up

- honestly the only reason steve is so bad at lying is bc hes not used to having a roommate but money was tight so here he was

- billy would rather die than admit it but he loves spiderman, thinks hes a total badass

- steve always tries to change the subject when he comes up, billy just thinks steve doesn't like him

- eventually it goes from steve coming home beat up at 2am and shuffling to the bathroom by himself to billy waking up whenever he gets home to keep him company to billy even helping sometimes when steve is especially beat up

- one night tho steve gets absolutely destroyed (like several broken ribs, stabbed, probably a concussion, etc. its not pretty)

- its a fight for his life just to make it back to their apartment, each swing tugging on something here and tearing something there

- as he works his way back to their place he cant see straight, hes exhausted, one arm wrapped around his stomach, an is mostly just swinging bc of the momentum he has

- makes it top of the a building a few down from his and can see his and billy's window to their living room and the rickety fire escape up the side of the building

- hardly makes it there, swinging directly into the side of the fire escape, rattling what feels like the whole building, and rolling over the side to lay on the grates

- heaves a few breaths and steels himself to stand up

- peels his hand off his stomach to survey the damage, hes in really bad shape, abdomen and arm covered in blood, suit sliced open in several spots, he can feel bruises forming just about everywhere on him

- he pulls himself off the fire escape and leaning heavily on the railings, makes it to their window and slides it as far open as it goes before literally falling thru it

- he groans and lies on the ground for another few moments before standing up again and putting practically all his weight on the wall

- (hes still in his suit too, itd be too risky to change w the chance of the fabric ripping open his wounds again, hes aware of how stupid this is (coming home w his suit on w knowledge that billy will probably wake up and come to at least check on him) but hes honestly more worried for his life at this point)

- 'bathroom bathroom bathroom bathroom' is the only thing going thru his head as he goes from the wall to the back of the couch to the hall where he needs to pause to keep himself from puking right then and there w how violently his vision is swimming

- he rips his mask off and bringing it to his stomach as another thing to apply pressure w (also so he doesnt puke in it. gross)

- steve wouldve picked up on it sooner if it weren't for the ringing in his ears but spider sense tells him someones here

- he pries his head off the wall to see billy's door swing open and him step into the hall in pj pants rubbing at his eyes

- he knows its too dark for billy to see him right now, but hes breathing like theres a car on his chest so theres no doubt that billy will notice him within a few seconds

- as soon as billy's hand drop from his eye, he stiffens as he finally notices the breathing and 'steve? that u?'

- all steve can do is grunt, jaw clamped so tightly shut to keep from retching what might be left in his stomach up onto the carpet hes bleeding onto

- 'dude where are u' billy mumbles as he reaches for the light switch by slapping his arm against the wall until he finds it

- steve sees this and knows if that light comes on hes doomed but he cant move and the bathroom door is situated nearly perfectly between them, so hes really got no where to go

- the light flicks on

- 'what the fuck'

- steve's head feels like its now about to implode then explode comically onto the walls of their apartment

- he squeezes his eyes shut and starts to blindly scramble towards the bathroom, feeling his whole stomach start to turn upside down

- practically throwing himself onto the hard tile in front of the toilet before heaving like theres something trying to get out of him

- billy slowly walks up to the bathroom door, still not 100% sure he saw that right (spider man (also steve?)(???)) standing (leaning) in his hall looking like hed just been run over by about 4 monster trucks

- he peeks his head in to see steve's head almost fully in the toilet bowl, mostly just the torn suit and mask on the floor being visible, breathing like he'll never fully catch his breath again

- billy practically runs to the kitchen to grab the biggest cup of water known to man before bringing it back to the bathroom for steve

- at this point, steve's stomach has evened out, but he is eyes remain closed and his head is resting on the rim of the toilet, spitting once to get the gunk out of his mouth

- billy tentatively knocks against the door 'uh, hey man. i got, uh, i got you some water?'

- steve grunts, peels his right arm off his stomach (revealing the mangled mess of suit and skin and blood there) to reach for the cup

- billy nearly drops it when he sees steve's stomach

- lets steve take a few sips before 'steve man what the hell happened let me look at u'

- billy flushes the toilet and kneels in front of steve, pushes him against the wall so he's leaning back instead

- 'how the hell do i get this off steve' grabbing at the suit

- 'hargrove, leave me alone'

- 'like hell im not leaving u alone like this' gives up on the suit to dig thru the cabinet to find the first aid kit

- he hears steve hiss and then groan from behind him and he turns to see steve working the suit off down to his hips

- billy's head spins a little with how much blood is left on steve's hands and stomach when he settles back against the wall

- he shuffles back over

- 'ok first things first, concussion check'

- 'i can tell u i have a concussion, billy, i got hit in the head w a crowbar like i was a fucking baseball'

- billy winces 'ok perfect. awesome. did u get fucking stabbed too? what the hell happened'

- a short nod, 'yeah that too. probably the more pressing issue.'

- 'jesus, uh. ok, yeah. i can do this' billy starts digging the thru the first aid to find wipes

- 'this is about to sting like a mother fucker but i need to see where ur cut and where there's just blood' and starts on steve's face, dabbing at the crusted blood there

- steve winces once but from then on clenches his jaw and focuses on a point on the wall just above billy's head

- billy gets to his stomach and takes a break to check in w steve, hands him the water again

- 'well, good news is there's not many deep cuts and they seem to mostly closed up already which is, interesting'

- 'i heal quickly, i was more worried abt taking another hit than i was bleeding out on the street'

- 'good lord man'

- steve takes a deep breath and straightens up against the wall before looking down at himself

- 'yea i should be good now honestly. if i get this wrapped up and go to bed i should be at least a bit better by morning. uh, thanks. u can go back to bed'

- steve reaches for the gauze and wrappings before billy snatches them up and holds them out of his reach

- 'there's no way in hell that im gonna leave u here to clean urself up, u Literally. Almost died. im staying to help u'

- 'billy. go back to bed im fine'

- 'no'

- 'billy'

- 'im not leaving u alone to deal w this'

- 'i don't need ur help'

- 'maybe not but ur getting it' billy sets down the gauze and starts patting around on steve's chest checking for where the broken ribs are

- steve sucks in a breath and mutters 'yeah some of those r definitely broken.' knocks his head against the wall 'there's not much either of us can do about that part, they'll fix themselves in a day or so'

- 'i don't even wanna know how u know that'

- steve chuckles

- 'ok. i'm gonna wipe u down again ur like, still covered in blood.' billy turns around to grab a washcloth

- steve's eyes are closed and his breathing has (thankfully) evened out a bit

- billy starts on his face again then works down his neck and shoulders then each arm and hand then down his chest to the wound on his stomach that has practically fully stopped bleeding by now (he stops there to marvel at it a little) (definitely not to watch steve breath for a moment)

- 'ok ur all cleaned up now for the most part, can u get the rest of ur, uh. getup? off? for me'

- 'if u wanted to get in my pants hargrove u should've just asked' steve cracks an eye open and grins at him before peeling himself away from the wall to start wiggling the suit down his legs

- billy looks away to get more wipes and rinse out the washcloth before he turns back to see steve in nothing but a pair of black boxers, long legs stretched out across the tile and the suit lying over the side of the tub next to him

- he looks for just a moment too long

- 'picture'll last longer'

- 'sorry'

- honestly if billy's being honest this is a little too close to a wet dream for him

- he crouches down, starting my steve's ankles (not trusting himself to faced directly w steve's crotch and thighs)

- slowly works his way his knees on both legs before looking up at steve when he presses the wipe to his thigh

- steve is watching his hands with a hooded tired look and it drives a hot nasty feeling down billy's spine and his face flushes just a bit before he rushes a bit thru finishing

- sits back and grabs the wrap again

- 'can u sit up? im gonna wrap u up now'

- 'mm' steve mumbles but shoves himself off the wall to sit up at least a bit straight

- billy leans in and steve moves his hands over his head to make room

- billy makes quick work of wrapping and tying everything up before he sits back on his knees

- 'there. all fixed up' he hands steve the water one more time, billy gets up to start fishing for pain killers

- 'high strength stuff is in my room, i'll grab it there' steve mutters as he tries to shimmy off the floor

- billy walks back over and helps him up

- 'sounds good to me pretty boy, let's get u to bed'

- with steve's arm around billy's shoulders, they shuffle out of the small bathroom into the small hall and into steve's small bedroom

- he sits steve down on the edge of his bed before turning around to go refill the water

- comes back and steve is still sitting up but his head is drooped slighting forward and his eyes r closed

- billy walks up to him and pats his cheek a few times 'cmon stay w me for a few more minutes then u can go to sleep ok? where're the pain killers?'

- ' top draw, desk'

- billy grabs them (they're prescription, he wonders how he got his hands on them)

- hands the pills to steve followed by the water 'ok lay down, carefully get settled i'll be right back'

- billy goes back to his room and grabs his blanket off his bed and a hoodie and by the time he's back steve is totally out cold

- billy pulls his hoodie on and sits w his back against the bed and rests his temple on steve's nightstand and pulls his blanket over him before falling asleep right there

- steve wakes up first somehow, and pushes himself to sit up

- he goes to get up but he sees billy curled up on his floor w his own blanket pulled up around his chin and he's drooling a little against the nightstand he's still leaning against

- steve blinks for a few seconds, trying to remember Why. Billy was laying there

- he scoots around him and hobbles to the bathroom

- sees his mask on the floor and suit on the tub before all (most) of it comes back to him

- billy knows

- he leans on the sink to process that for a second before splashing some water on his face and makes his way back to his bedroom

- kinda just stands in the doorway and just kinda looks at billy in his space, deciding he doesn't hate the idea of billy knowing

- potentially even ok with billy knowing

[alphinias]

I can see a time jimp happening, especially with things like JJ stressing about his lack of a future, the Pogues dealing with more mature issues, a feeling of finality at the end of this season, etc. And tbh, I'm not totally opposed to it. The masochist in me has always been curious about a season where the Pogues sorta fall apart and we get to see how they'd come back together again. I know that's something that would have people up in arms, but something in me would be intrigued by an arc like that. And the idea of seeing them in their twenties is so interesting to me. My ONLY gripe is the Jiara of it all. I'd be less bothered if they aren't in a definitive/confirmed relationship by the end of the season, but that's not the vibe I'm getting from all these interviews. IDK, I just can't picture how you'd finally unite a fan favourite couple only to skip past so much of the good stuff. And what, they get together at long last by season's end and they're still happily together after a significant time jump? We all know that's not how TV works, lol. And how much do you wanna bet that if this is a thing, they'll pull an OTH and use a time jump to skip past Rafe's jail time so he can still be on the show? ajsdcnsh BUT ANYWAY. This is all obviously hypothetical since no one's actually said anything about a huge time jump. Just wanted to share some of my opinions and thoughts. :)

Yeah and it’s not like I completely hate every aspect of the idea. I don’t at all. A group reconnecting as adults can be really interesting, but I just find I never really like it in practice. I’m not saying it couldn’t be well done, but I do have to say every show I’ve followed that has done a significant time jump, I’ve not really ended up being crazy about it or liking it quite as much as I used to. And in all honestly even the stuff like excuses to keep Rafe on wouldn’t make me mad. I hate Rafe but he’s a great character and Drew is amazing, so I could suspend some disbelief to keep him around. It’s just how all the characters somehow always end up not even feeling quite like the same people we fell in love with to push drama that just always leaves me feeling vaguely disappointed. Obviously if it did happen, I’d still go into the season with the highest hopes I could.

I’m really worried we’ll miss out on new Jiara relationship stuff regardless, even if it’s a small time jump. Really worried when I think about it. But like we’ve both said there is really no point in fretting over it before we even know what happens or see them get together in the first place. I’m gonna focus on how excited I am for this season before I start worrying about the next one!

[pkmnomegaverse]

AAA ok im curious since you posted that travel group pic. mirroring their other siblings, what is peyton and cereus' relationship like?

Me answering this half a year after you sent this ask but so it goes!

So admittedly the specifics of their relationships is still a work in progress, since Cereus was a later addition to this verse after I had made Micah/Jackie/Dylan Peyton’s main interaction partners. And Cereus as a whole needs some work. But what I’m leaning towards is unlike Aidan and Liliana who grow closer as time progresses due to traveling together (and Deni and Braxton who are still close cause they’re both like 10), Peyton and Cereus start out closer and then grow further apart with age. Although as Peyton grows apart with everyone as time progresses, this just follows the general theme of Peyton as “the distant hero.” Driven by the pursuit of his goals to the detriment of his personal relationship. It’s always seemed like a given to me that May and Brendan would make an effort to try and get their kids to be friends. Arranging playdates together, encouraging them to travel together when applicable, etc. So while Cereus is a bit younger than Peyton, they’re close enough in age where Brendan and May for sure would have pushed them to be friends. And while they’re children, they’re very much friends! Both are pretty outgoing and friendly overall, so they do get along well as a result. If asked, they would both say that the other was their best friend growing up, since while they both for sure had other friends, they were each other’s most consistent friend. Bff they saw the most. But there’s just enough of an age gap between them that Peyton starts his journey before Cereus. And once Cereus is able to start his own journey two years later, the seeds are set for Peyton to ultimately leave Hoenn.

Initially though, once Cereus is out traveling, he does get sort of roped into the Jackie/Micah/Dylan trio at times since Micah ends up taking him under his wing as a fellow coordinator. Giving him advice, showing him the ropes. Of course given Cereus’s parents, Cereus doesn’t necessarily need a ton of pointers per se, but he is trying to make it as a coordinator without relying on his parents (because let’s be real, Harley can and would pull strings and Cereus doesn’t want that). So if Cereus has questions, he goes to Micah (or sometimes Drew if he caves and asks one of his parents) since he feels Micah will be more unbiased and honest with him. And as a byproduct he sees and interacts with Peyton some as well.

As for once Peyton leaves Hoenn to travel the world on his “hero journey,” I don’t see Cereus taking Peyton’s absence as personally as some of the others do. They still sometimes talk but it’s one of those situations where as time passes, they talk less and less. Check up on what the other is doing through whatever social media each uses, but interaction past that decreases with time. However, they do always still have that base of “he was my best friend when I was a kid” to fall back on, so while they never stop being friends, they’re less close to each other once they’re both adults. Both have followed their own path and respect that about each other, even if their different paths mean they rarely see each other. When they do happen to see each other though, it’s pretty easy for them to reconnect. In some ways it’s like picking back up on where they left their friendship. So very much old friends. Perhaps if I ever figure out what Peyton does epilogue wise, I’ll have more of an opinion on how things progress past that, but for now that’s my general vibe on what their relationship is like.