#guardian of the inness

[masterfuldoodler]

We've got Benji doodles, Vidar in a suit, Vokku with a magic stick, and the guardian of the Inness ooo

[silverskye13]

how does welsknight always know to turn up? is there world joining messages in the chat when tanguish pops through from hels?

Tanguish joined the game

[Renthedog] o.o

[FalseSymmetry] o/

[Tangotek] hey! Don't go anywhere

[Cubfan135] Well well well, if it isn't Tango2: Electric Boogaloo

[Docm77] ahm nobody tell Wels lol

[Welsknight] Nobody tell Wels what?

[Grian] Scatter!

[Tangotek] Nothing wells go build your castle

[Welsknight] ?

[Docm77] lol

[Impulsesv] busted!

[Tangotek] nobody is busted!

[Welsknight] ah. I see.

[Tangotek] You see NOTHING

[Tangotek] Go bother your own evil double!

Evil Xisuma joined the game

[Evil Xisuma] Did someone say evil double?

[Ethoslab] Oh snappers!

[Grian] You guys suck at scattering

Evil Xisuma left the game

Xisuma joined the game

[Xisuma] So what's all this then?

[Tangotek] Go bother X!

[Welsknight] >:/

[Tangotek] Shoo! Go away!

[Tangotek] You're just jealous my double is cooler than yours!

[Tangotek] Literally!

[Welsknight] Where are you Tango

[Tangotek] Wouldn't you like to know, metal boy!

[Impulsesv] You tell him Tango!

[Geminitay] I'm confused, are we rooting for the evil double or for Wels?

[PearlescentMoon] Aw, leave the little nugget alone

[PearlescentMoon] Hey Tango, can your little guy introduce me to my evil double?

[Tangotek] Only if you beat up Wels for me!

[Welsknight] No more evil doubles on Hermitcraft

[Welsknight] We already have to many

[Xisuma] That's a matter of opinion I think

[JoeHills] Evil is in the eye of the beholder anyway

[JoeHills] So is beauty

[JoeHills] That's the cool thing about being a beholder.

[JoeHills] You've got a lot of eyes to get things stuck in

[ZombieCleo] I'm glad I'm not a beholder

[Welsknight] -_- sigh

[Welsknight] Tango, I'm coming to Decked Out

[Cubfan135] Busted!

[lalaloobzy]

This is me

[oneguardian15]

okay okay, finally finished watching trigun stampede and i was not expecting that ending. the show honestly far exceeded my expectations

[fluffypotatey]

watching alcs tipsy can i get some asks? 🥺

[radioactive-earthshine]

Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen #136

Thinking about Jim Harper again and how when he died the first time around he was content and had made an impact, but he was so well loved his friends, the original Newsboy Legion, could not bear to say goodbye to him yet so he they had him cloned as one of the many projects in early Cadmus.

These early issues of Cadmus from today's perspective is fairly creepy as it is involves a lot of dubious consensual cloning and ethical practices; people being grown for specific purposes, genetic experimentation, metas being grown, whole other species (like Dubbilex) were all the results of experimentation involving cell samples taken consensually (Clark) and nonconsensually (Jimmy, Jim and about an unknown number of different people). The times that these were written in (1971) this was not really considered problematic but rather exciting!

Jim's first come-back out of "The Project" was out of grief and love even if he had not given express permission for this to even happen.

Jim's second cloning at the hands of a changed Cadmus was for exploitive purposes and done in absolutely contradiction to his request. His request to remain dead was made in part because he did not consent to being brought back in the first place, and he knew that if he did die there would have been a possibility that he would be brought back again. Only this time it wasn't love that brought him back.

It was apathy.

[ratgingi]

the people in this house hate people who struggle with paranoid hallucinations

[fieriframes]

[FIERI: With Chef Jasper as the unlikely meat master. Who guards the guardians? Me. I should have picked that up.]

[askhelixchaosguardians]

Welcome to the Ask Helix blog! Here, you can ask me anything about me or the world i live in!

Basic information: I am male, 21, and a part of a group called the Chaos Guardians. Please ask about it!

[dreamlandgirlie]

the guards are notttt afraid to dfa a bitch and im here for it

[queenshelby]

AMERICAN GIRL (PART ONE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

On a brisk autumn day, you and your younger sibling Emma sailed into Liverpool harbor. You each carried a large, old-fashioned cart filled with towering brown suitcases, with a satchel casually slung over your shoulders.

The journey had left Emma exhausted, clinging to you as she marvelled at the unfamiliar sights of the port with wide eyes.

"I'm afraid," she confided in you, her words barely audible as they grazed your ear.

"I understand Em, but we have each other, and I will always look after you," you comforted her, putting on a smile. You promised to always take care of Emma, and true to your word, you have been her guardian angel since the day she arrived in this world.

Shortly after Emma was born, your mother sadly passed away due to unexpected complications during the pregnancy at her age.

It was a shock to everyone and left you to step into the roles of both mother and sister to Emma at the young age of 12.

Even in your youth, you held onto the hope that your father would one day find love again. Little did you expect that it would come in the form of Grace Burgess who was a young Irish woman with no money to her name after fleeing England in a haste. Grace had cleverly leveraged his wealth and power to her benefit despite their significant age difference.

Your father fell head over heels for her the moment he laid eyes on her at the corner grocery store in New York, just after your 13th birthday.

Their romance blossomed quickly, leading to marriage in less than a year.

At the tender age of seventeen, your father's love for her tragically transformed into heartbreak as she started a romantic relationship with a man from England - the very same man you were about to start living with.

Thomas Shelby was a name that sent shivers down the spine of those who knew of him - an enigmatic and formidable figure who held significant sway in the depths of England.

In the streets of Birmingham, he controlled his own illicit kingdom, bending the rules to his liking. And yet, your stepmother Grace couldn't help but be drawn to him, just as she had been to your father all those years ago when they first crossed paths.

Just before ending his life due to a broken heart, your wealthy father decided to cut ties with his second wife, leaving all his possessions to you and your sister for your 21st birthdays. This decision left Grace boiling with rage.

Soon after, she vanished to be with her lover in England and the two of you were forced to reside with a cruel family member instead as you had not yet turned 21, being the age of adulthood in America.

Within less than a year of living with this man however, you brought about his demise with a single bullet to the head, all because he dared to touch your sister Emma. It was in that moment that your entire world began to shift.

After a series of run-ins with the law leading to stints in juvenile detention, your father's lawyer came to the rescue, securing your freedom at the age of nineteen, albeit with the catch that you had to leave the country for good.

Of course, you gave your consent, but you were taken aback when it was revealed that your grandparents had struck a deal with Grace, out of all people, to care for you and Emma until you turned 21 and inherited half of your father's wealth.

What also came as a shock was the discovery that for the past two years, your family had been colluding with the Shelby Family, smuggling liquor into the United States without your knowledge and you knew that this must have been Grace's doing.

Grace had always been fascinated by the concept of wealth, much like your grandparents and uncle who shared her passion. Therefore, it didn't come as a shock to you when you recently stumbled upon the name 'Shelby Company Limited' in multiple transaction records within your grandfather's office.

While you understood the reasons behind everything relating to the business deals between your family and the Shelbys, the mystery still lingered as to why Grace decided to take you and Emma in after all the turmoil she had caused. After all, she had found herself entwined with a man of considerable wealth, so she had no need for the money that your family would have been willing to pay her for looking after you and your sister unless, of course, she was worried it wouldn’t last.

After two years had passed, this man still hadn't made her his wife, leaving you to ponder whether she harboured any doubts about his commitment to ever tying the knot.

Your stepmother may have been anxious about her partner abandoning her once the business arrangement in the US came to an end, a deal that she likely orchestrated and this, in itself, made you think that, perhaps, you would now finally have the upper hand.

As any young woman in your situation would, you nurtured a deep-seated anger towards Grace. She was the last person you wanted to rely on, let alone live with.

But you shoved those emotions down as you and Emma disembarked the large ship, weaving through the bustling crowd, ready for what lay ahead.

Just as instructed, outside the dock, you were greeted by a young man named Finn.

Finn, in his early twenties, extended his hand to take your luggage with a friendly smile as you approached.

"I am Finn, and you must be Y/N and Emma, right? Tommy has sent me to pick you up," he told you and Emma clung to you tightly, before peering at Finn suspiciously.

"Nice to meet you, Finn," you replied, offering a warm, polite smile.

Once your luggage was stored securely in the back of the Bentley, the three of you set off on the two-hour journey from Liverpool to Birmingham.

Emma's head rested on your shoulder as she slowly drifted off to sleep, her energy depleted from the journey, while Finn was attempting to make small talk with you while, occasionally, looking back through the rear-view mirror.

It was obvious to you that he had already taken a liking in you, but his youthful charm and charisma was not enough to sway you, not after everything that had happened in the past.

You acknowledged his attempts with brief responses, unable to fully engage in the conversation until he brought up the fact that you had killed a man.

"So, my brother mentioned that you had to leave New York because you killed someone. Is it true?" Finn questioned earnestly and without any filter whatsoever.

Your heart raced as you contemplated the best way to respond to his question.

"Yes, it's true," you finally admitted bluntly, looking straight ahead, not wanting to engage in a detailed conversation about it.

Finn, seemingly surprised by your response, paused before shifting the Bentley into a higher gear.

"Did you shoot him?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

You nodded, your jaw set.

Finn didn't press for more details, for which you were grateful. But you could sense his intrigue as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

Emma stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly, drawing your attention back to her peaceful face. You smoothed her unruly hair back, your heart swelling with protectiveness.

You would do anything to keep her safe. After all, you had already lost so much in your life already, so you could not lose her as well. 

***

Eventually, the streets of Birmingham came into view, appearing as a striking contrast to the glamour and elegance of your hometown. 

"Wow, this is different," you murmured to yourself, your gaze locked on the sprawling slums that lay outside the car window. There were workers fighting each other and whores selling themselves on the cobblestone streets, while children ran in all directions, many of them ragged and filthy.

"Don't worry. I am taking you somewhere nice," Finn assured you, seeing the look on your face and you could only hope that he was right, because if this was what Birmingham looked like everywhere, you wondered how you could possibly survive here for the next two years.

Despite Finn's enthusiasm, something about the place left you feeling uneasy, like a predator lurked in the shadows and you could see the appeal for criminals to operate here.

Before long, the Bentley turned into the private road of a luxurious home outside of Birmingham  .

The driveway was long, shielded by trees, and it wasn't until the last bend that you caught a glimpse of the mansion at the end.

The house was stunning, with intricately carved mahogany furnishings, rich velvet curtains framing large bay windows, and marble floors polished to a high sheen.

The structure exuded opulence while maintaining a cozy air with its plush décor.

Upon arrival, Finn hopped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for you and Emma.

You carefully stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, feeling the weight of this new world pressing down upon you. Emma rubbed her eyes and slowly emerged from her drowsy state, taking in the splendor of the ornate mansion with fascination and open admiration.

Finn led you through the imposing oak door, which creaked slightly as he pulled it open. As soon as you entered, you were met with a grand foyer adorned with chandeliers that cast an amber glow upon the walls.

"You made it," Grace 's stern voice eventually echoed off the marble tiles, causing you to turn around.

She stood there in a long-sleeved maroon blouse and black pencil skirt, her piercing blue eyes sizing you up like some sort of puzzle she couldn't wait to solve.

Emma, seemingly intimidated by her appearance, slowly retreated behind you as Grace approached with determination.

"You look well, given the circumstances," she then said to you, her voice laced with a noticeable hint of sarcasm, causing you to roll your eyes.

"I was hoping not to see you again, but here we are," you murmured under your breath, drawing Grace's ire as she narrowed her bright blue eyes infinitesimally.

"You should be grateful that I took you in," she snarled sharply, causing you to chuckle.

"How much are my grandparents paying you to have us?" you said, unflinching, watching Grace's face for a reaction.

Grace's expression barely changed, merely raising an eyebrow as if amused before replying scathingly, "Nothing. At least not until you make it to 21, so you better behave," she warned.

You took a deep breath, realizing that this was not the time to engage in a war of words with your stepmother. You turned to Emma and noticed that she was trembling slightly and you could see the worry etched into her delicate features. You slipped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Let's get you settled in," you said softly to Emma, who managed a weak nod in response as Grace turned and led the way down the grand hallway.

"The maids will show you to your rooms. You will be staying in the staffing quarters,"  Grace snapped as she pivoted and strode through an arched doorway, leaving you and Emma with two young women wearing crisp white aprons who appeared in your line of vision.

You watched silently as Grace disappeared before you turned to Emma, smiling despite the tension thickening in the air, and whispered gently, "She can't hurt us, Em. She needs us. So just ignore her." 

Emma nodded slowly, but it was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced.

You couldn't blame her - the past few years had been nothing but a series of harsh lessons for both of you, leaving you both vulnerable and wary. But deep down, you knew that things would be different here. This was a new beginning for the two of you, away from the cold-hearted family members who had mistreated you, and into the care of someone who, while intimidating and unpredictable, was bound to follow your father's final wishes for financial reasons.

You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, no matter how difficult that might be considering your complicated history with Grace and, with that in mind, you unpacked your suitcases and settled in.

The rooms were modest but comfortable, with the staff quarters being clean and well looked after, much to your surprise.

Soon enough, your first day in Birmingham was drawing to a close and after you put Emma to bed, you decided to have a warm bath before venturing out to explore this somewhat opulent mansion. 

You put on the satin robe which once belonged to your mother and strolled towards the grand staircase with bare feet, looking at all of the incredible paintings that lined the walls, showcasing various landscapes and portraits of people whose names you did not yet know.

As you reached the second floor, you came across a door which seemed slightly ajar and upon pushing it open, you discovered a library.

Your eyes widened at the sight of thousands of books neatly arranged on wooden bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling before, in the room next to it, finding a large piano.

You walked over to the piano and gently touched its surface, marveling at the intricate carvings before looking back at the books surrounding you.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards settling. You moved further into the room, running your fingers along the spines of various titles.

There were novels from authors you recognized like Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters but there was also an array of non-fiction texts ranging from science, philosophy to mathematics and history.

There was also a section dedicated to poetry where you spotted a few works by Lord Byron, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth which intrigued you.

Despite the vast quantities of books in this room, the smell of old leather-bound volumes filled the air as if it was just yesterday when they were placed on these mahogany shelves.

Just as you were about to pick up a book of poetry, the door creaked open, and you heard a dark voice behind you.

"It's quite sad, really," the man said, his tone heavy with contempt. "The book, I mean," he clarified as you turned around, meeting the stranger's gaze.

"I am Thomas Shelby and you must be Y/N,"  he introduced himself, approaching you with a confident stride.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the man who stood before you. He was handsome, there was no denying that, but it wasn't just his chiseled features or his magnetic blue eyes that caught your attention. No, it was the air of danger that surrounded him, like a cloud that warned others not to get too close.

You composed yourself, extending your hand towards him. "Yes, I am Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shelby," you greeted him with a polite smile, determined to maintain your composure.

"Please, call me Tommy, eh,"  Thomas replied, his cockney accent more pronounced than you'd expected.

He took your offered hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go and stepping back to study you with his intense gaze which lingered a little longer on your bare legs than it probably should.

"Thank you for letting me and my sister stay here, with you," you said almost professionally , breaking the silence. You had to admit, Thomas was an intimidating man but you held your ground without flinching under his scrutiny.

"Well, it wasn't my choice," he chuckled. "Grace practically begged me and I find it rather difficult to say no to her these days,"  he admitted, his tone softening.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his candidness. "Well, my stepmother can be persuasive, I give her that," you told him while putting the book back into the shelf. 

"You could say that," he replied, offering little insight into their relationship. "Do you drink?" Thomas asked in a manner so casual that the question caught you off guard, but your curiosity was sparked, and you wanted to know more about him. Despite his intimidating presence, he struck you as an intriguing puzzle you couldn't wait to solve.

"I wouldn't say no," you responded with a slight tilt of your head, smiling coyly.

Thomas chuckled at your response before turning around to pour two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter on the leather-topped table nearby. With an elegant grace, he handed one to you.

You took it with a slight nod, allowing your fingers to graze his before taking hold of the glass. The warmth spread from your fingertips and up your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

"There you go, now you can keep me some company," Tommy said with a sly grin as he took a sip of his whiskey and sat down.

"Why don't you get Grace to keep you company?" you asked as you followed suit, feeling the alcohol burn your throat and spread through your body, warming you from the inside out. 

"Because, by now, I would assume that she is sound asleep," Thomas replied, chuckling wryly.

"Well, it is midnight already, which brings me to the question of why you are still up," you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Because I can't fucking sleep, Love," he replied in a tone of voice that made your heart race, "there is always business on my mind, day and night." 

You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask more about his life. After all, you had heard stories about Thomas Shelby and his criminal empire. 

"Well, the booze doesn't export itself to New York now, does it?"  you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Thomas chuckled at your response, finding amusement in your wit. He appreciated a challenge - it was something he hadn't encountered in a while. Grace had always been so timid around him, obedient almost. But you, on the other hand, didn't cower in the face of his daunting presence.

"So you know what I do, eh?" Thomas agreed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Did Grace tell you?" Thomas questioned, a slight glint in his eyes as he studied you intently. His gaze was unwavering, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort at his scrutiny. However, you refused to let him intimidate you, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Oh god no. My stepmother would not discuss matters like this, not with me anyway. She very much dislikes me," you told Tommy as he lid himself a cigarette, his gaze never wavering. "But I know more about my family's business interests than one might think," you admitted, reluctant to speak ill of Grace.

Tommy's lips quirked upwards before he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "That doesn't surprise me, Love. A little birdie has told me that you had some run ins with the law recently, which is why you are here now, in fucking Birmingham of all places,"  Thomas said, his tone laced with an underlying hint of mischief.

He leaned back against the leather armchair, his eyes never leaving yours as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Well, it's safe to say that I had made some mistakes in the past," you admitted, holding his gaze firmly. "But I had my reasons for doing what I did," you explained, and  Thomas chuckled at your response, finding your confidence endearing. He had always admired a strong-willed woman - and you were undoubtedly that.

"We all have our reasons, Love,"  Tommy agreed, his tone softening.

You took another sip of your whiskey, the fire in your throat becoming increasingly comforting, and you let out a sigh. The truth was that you had always been impulsive, driven by emotion rather than reason.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "I suppose you're right," you admitted, swirling the amber liquid around your glass before raising from your seat.

"It's getting late and I should probably get some sleep," you said before thanking Tommy for the drink.

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, studying his features as he did the same with you. There was a spark of curiosity between the two of you, but you quickly tried to push your intrusive thoughts away. 

"Good night, Y/N,"  Thomas murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before you turned around and walked towards the door, hiding your body's reaction to his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you replied softly, taking one last look at the library before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness that clung to you like a second skin. You shook your head slightly as if to clear the thoughts away, telling yourself that you were only imagining things.

But the way he had looked at you, the slight hint of something deeply sensual in his gaze, lingered and left you with a curious sensation.

You made your way to your guest room, undressing slowly before slipping between the smooth sheets. Emma was already fast asleep, her gentle snores barely audible as you switched off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the faintest gleam of moonlight to cut through the curtains and cast thin stripes of silver upon the walls.

You stared up at the ceiling, the alcohol swimming lazily in your veins and causing your thoughts to swirl with unclear notions.

As much as you tried to fight against the growing allure, Thomas Shelby had intrigued you. There was no denying it. He possessed an air of mystery and darkness that called out to that impulsive part of you like a siren's song which was a part of you which you knew you had to suppress. 

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[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being the youngest Gotham Knight

Gotham Knights x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “For a Gotham Knights headcannon game request please: Being the youngest of the Knights, who they are all protective of?”

you weren’t new to the vigilante business

but thay didn’t stop your makeshift family from worrying over you

“hey, if i died, you can die too” -jason

“do you know how crazy that sounds? like can you hear yourself? repeat it” -you

bruce being gone also really affected that feeling of immortality you guys had with the masks on

“y/n should be the lookout” -dick

“that’s the third time this week!” -you

“you just have really good eyesight” -dick

certain villains really loved you

like harley

“kid! how the hell are ya? oh—sorry. didn’t mean to say any bad words around the baby, how the heck are ya?” -harley, in lockup

“ha ha, very funny” -you, sarcastically

“i get that a lot” -harley

the knights tried to give you a curfew lol

“we are literally vigilantes. why would you give me a curfew” -you

“well, you’re…growing? you need rest” -barbara

“we’re just making sure you’re not overworked. now that bruce is gone, we’re making sure you’re on a better schedule” -dick

“HAH! we were all child soldiers and suddenly we’re setting bedtimes? y/n can stay out late, this is stupid” -jason

“as y/n’s legal guardian, i think it would be better if they went to bed a tad earlier” -alfred

“you guys are messing with me” -you

“maybe a little” -alfred

you loved the belfry honestly

sometimes you’d pass out on the couch watching tv and one of the batsibs would “tuck you in” and take pictures

you and jason like to play the racing game together to beat the high score

“ohhh my god. we’re never gonna beat bruces score” -you

“do you think it’s wrong to try to beat a dead man’s high score?” -jason

“you tell me, would you be mad if i beat your high score when you were dead?” -you

“i’d be mad if you beat my high score in general” -jason

the crew telling you you’re “too young to drink coffee”

“if im old enough to fight clayface im old enough to have a cup of coffee” -you

“i mean, that’s a sound argument” -dick

“it’s a wonder you’re all standing after being raised by bruce” -barbara

“in y/n’s defense, i was drinking coffee when i was younger than them” -tim

“ohhh, so that’s why you’re so short” -jason

hourly check ins

“y/v/n, come in, are you alive” -barbara

“yes, i am alive” -you

“great! can you check out this warehouse real quick?” -barbara

“threat level?” -you

“uhhh, zero” -barbara

“booooo, i wanna punch something” -you

“maybe next time” -barbara

taglist: @summersimmerus //

[sophieinwonderland]

"There's no scientific backing for endogenic systems and tulpas" says the Lemur Therian

I'm sorry, I didn't realize Mr. Lemur that you needed scientific evidence to support people's identities and experiences.

So um, just for the rest of the class, @that-lemur, can you show us the proof that you are, in fact, a lemur internally?

Because without scientific backing, I just don't know why anyone should believe you, by your standards... 🤷‍♀️

Oh wait.

When it's your identity, your position is...

Got it!

Anyway, reminder that the Alterhuman community is inclusive. It has always been inclusive since the term was coined, including plural and walk-in identities. (Walk-ins generally referring to a type of spiritual headmate who walk in to a system.)

So yeah, if you're routinely posting in inclusive spaces, people will probably assume you're inclusive and safe to interact with.

Now, I find it pretty ridiculous that someone in the alterhuman community is using a lack of scientific basis to argue someone's identity is invalid.

But I also need to say that this factually incorrect!

Practically every source, including dissociative experts, have confirmed that endogenic and non-disordered plurality exists or at least may be possible. Anti-endos have yet to produce even a single doctor who has said otherwise.

And more recently, there was an AMA with psychiatrists researching tulpas in an fMRI study for Stanford University. One of their big findings was changes in the brains of tulpa systems during possession of limbs.

This is actual, neurological data.

Beyond that, here's a big document of other research and studies related to endogenic systems.

I could go all day with pro-endo sources. But here's the bigger thing you need to understand.

Bigotry like this has no place in the alterhuman community. Because if you decide that someone's identity isn't valid because they don't have "scientific backing," others will see that as permission to say the same about you.

The system medicalist ideology of requiring scientific validation is harmful to all alterhumans, not just endogenic systems.

[nemainofthewater]

Huh, is something burning? Oh look, there's a black lump of unidentified charcoal in this pot, let me clean that for you...

Wait.

Food?

...

Are you sure?

Whether they add ludicrous amounts of spice, don't know that you should gut a fish before cooking it, or have unique tastebuds (cough*coffeeinstantnoodles*cough), these characters are not ones you'd ever accept a dinner invitation from. I hope that their friends, family, and significant others have stomach medicine ready and waiting...

*we don't know for certain if he's doing it on purpose or not, but I wouldn't eat his food

Propaganda, examples, and write-ins absolutely welcome!

[thefreakandthehair]

EPILOGUE: THREE YEARS LATER

Eddie sits in the suite in his jersey— Harrington still written across his back years later— with Robin and Nancy on one side, and the slew of children who are no longer children that Steve considers his own on the other. Wayne stands behind him, a lifelong Cubs fan himself, squeezing Eddie’s shoulders in time with the plays.

He’s learned a bit about baseball in earnest over the years, so he understands the tension in the announcer’s voice over the stadium intercom.

The Guardians have a man on first in the 9th inning with a three-two count, Steve’s fielding third base, and the next play means the game.

An out ends the game and earns the Cubs their first World Series in Eddie’s uncle’s lifetime.

A score ends the game and hands the Cubs a loss that Eddie isn’t sure anyone in the suite could stomach on Steve’s behalf.

Wrigley Field is dynamic, loud and thunderous, as the pitcher winds up.

There’s a crack of a bat as the hitter grounds it to third base and Eddie watches, hands in his hair and holding his breath, as Steve fields it effortlessly across the diamond to first base.

He’s out.

Holy shit.

He’s out.

“Harrington makes the play… and it’s over! The Chicago Cubs win the World Series!”

↳read the final chapter of slipped between these ribs of mine [explicit] on ao3: NOW COMPLETE! written for @steddiesmuttyseptember!

it's complete! some people asked to be tagged and I can't for the life of me remember so just tagging some peeps who expressed interest (lemme know if you don't wanna be, of course!): @sageclipse @pearynice @steddieasitgoes @stervrucht @runninriot

@lunaticmarunatic @lihhelsing @steddie-island @kas-eddie-munson @sidekick-hero

@spectrum-spectre @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @absurdityaddiction

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @steddieas-shegoes @vecnuthy @hotluncheddie @griefabyss69

@imaginary-maggie-waggie @fkinkindagauche @pluckedstrings @blossomingblueberries

[yaut-jaknowit]

HIIIII

I LOVE your work!! And I love Gawtin so much!! Can I request a Gawtin scenario in which the reader is (consensually) touchy with her muscles?? Like squeezing or feeling up her biceps, praising her for being so strong, etc.

Thank you!!

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1181

Summary: Gawtin has taken care of you since she took you to her home planet, Yautja Prime. That's around two years. She's protected you, laid down her life for your safety, keeps the fridge stocked, and most importantly, showers you with her love. Now, it's her turn to be showered.

Author Note: Muscle mommy needs some praise and love too! This is short, I know but I made it as sweet and fluff filled as possible to make up for it!

Masterlist

Ao3

Target spotted. A grin widened on your face. You acted innocently in the kitchen, pulling a snatch from the fridge Gawtin was laxed in the living room, a book in hand. Every minute or so, she would turn the page. Qui’oky was down for his midday nap, the young child worn out from being a kid.

The bowl of strawberry-like fruit was set down carefully on the counter once Gawtin turned another page. Your eyes darted side to side to ensure no surface could reflect your presence to her. Not until you were ready to reveal yourself.

After living in this cottage for so long, you’ve grown to learn the ins and outs. Specially which floor board squeaked so you didn’t wake up any of the other occupants if you could help it. You took a known route to get to the couch Gawtin was on. She was none the wiser, focused strictly on her book that you could partially read. You’re getting there.

“I offer you my heart, little artist but why do you think you could sneak up on me?” Gawtin turned her head and glanced at you from the corner of her purple eyes. A pout turned your features down.

A shrug drew your shoulders up and down before you padded to the other side of the couch to face her. “Well, I just thought I could surprise you, love,” you excused then looked at her prettily. You shuffled closer to her hulking frame. Even sitting down, the giant still dwarfed your form. Now, you stood between her open legs, up close and personal with your lover.

Her book was set on the nearby coffee table, marked. Gawtin’s full attention returned to you. This could either go in two different directs.

You cleared your throat then placed a hand on her shoulder to lean in closer to her face. Your other hand reached up cupped her cheek. “You’re so pretty,” you whispered and stroked her ridge of her upper mandible. “My pretty girl.”

The forest green Yautja quirked a brow and mandible at your actions. But, she tilted her head into your palm and nuzzled against it. You let that hand drift down to her muscular shoulders and gripped it. “Look how strong you are too. Such a good protector for your child and your mate.”

Though, Gawtin was confused at first, she was more than pleased to let you continue. At first, you glanced down at her lap and got the nod to go ahead. You couldn’t wipe off the smirk on your face and climbed onto her. Gawtin threw her arms over the top of the couch and watched you preform your next actions.

The couch offered some added inches to you, but that wasn’t enough to be eye level with Gawtin. You stood on your knees, hands now cupping both of her lower mandibles. “I probably say this a lot but I love you so much. My big strong protector, keeping me safe any harm or males attempting to court me.” That was a jab towards the first and last time a young male offered you skull. He got a life lesson: Don’t mess with another’s mate; let alone Gawtin’s mate.

A purr began in the depths of her chest. Gawtin even titled her head slightly back, baring her throat to you. “Oh? What’s all this praise for, artful one?” she questioned with a trill, eyes hooding over. Gawtin was more than happy to let you have your way currently.

One of your hands slid down to softly grasp her throat, fingers not even reaching the sides. An innocent look was thrown at her. “I can’t tell my mate how amazing she is? Is that so wrong?” you cooed, lips turning into a small pout. You leaned forward and placed kiss on the column of her throat. A place only ones she trusted most were allowed to even see, let alone touch in your case.

“You don’t know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Gawtin,” you continued and drifted the palm on her mandible down to the area between her shoulder and neck. Your lips pressed another kiss a little higher on her throat. “You do so much for me, love.”

The purr deepened. Gawtin sunk further into the couch. Your hands continued to roam, both going to her biceps to squeeze her muscles there.

From the two years you’ve been around Gawtin, a lot has occurred. Even your meeting with her was a whirl emotions that you weren’t prepared for. Meeting a pregnant alien then going out of your way to protect her. Neither of you expect that from the measly human just trying to enjoy their last couple days at the cabin. An artist that only wields pencils.

It still shocks you to this day that a Yautja, a species born for the hunt and lives to prove their prowess, wants you. You’re just… you. A human that didn’t have a lick of fighting skills. Now, under Gawtin’s protection and watch, you’ve grown stronger, faster, more of a hunter than ever before. You had a lot to thank her for. If it wasn’t for your walk into the forest, you’d never have met her. Worst of all, she could possibly be dead, with Qui’oky.

You kissed a line down one side of her throat then up the other side. Your hands squeezed at her biceps. “Look how strong my pretty hunter is. You can take down anything you want, anything you set your mind onto.” Gawtin’s arms slipped off the top of couch. Both of her hands grabbed yours and carded her fingers through yours in a firm grip.

Gawtin leaned forward and bumped her forehead against yours. “I offer you my heart and bare my unarmored body to you, my exquisite mate.” The Yautja’s voice rumbled. Your grip tightened, nails biting into the back of her palms.

“You are beyond anything I could ask and more. More than anything I could dream of. You are all I need in my life. You are all I want in this life. My life is yours,” you whispered and held your lips to the little snout between her mandibles.

Your eyes fluttered open and stared into her soul entwined with hers. Gawtin shifted her hold on one of your hands to hold the back of it then held it to her chest.

Between layers of muscles and bones, you felt the strong, thundering beat of her heart. The organ in her body that beats for you.

In return, you slid the hand still entwined with hers out then did the same action on your own chest. Your heart beats for her as well.

“My little artist, I will forever protect you. You are mine. My ooman. My mate. My lover.” Her upper mandibles brushed against your cheek bones. Your eyes drifted shut again as you simmered in the affection that poured between the two of you. This is a love you’ll forever hold onto.