#he likes when they fight. not like that that was supremely fucked up and broke the rules

[laniidae-passerine]

Lestat admitting in public that he domestically abused Louis. and Louis knows this and experienced it. and still will never not love him. like truly love him for what he is, not just accepting the good with bad, but loving the bad the ruined the indefensible. what the fuck is wrong with you girl I would tell you to get out but you find a man who doesn’t attack you and you call him boring and dream of your crazy ex. you don’t want to get out. you just wish that your lion pet husband would learn the difference between biting and mauling.

there is something so entirely fucked about Louis’ psyche… look at it all! the physical beatings to an obscene degree, the damaging affairs, the psychological warfare, the public humiliation, the participation in the murder of their only beloved daughter. Lestat does this all to him, or a significant amount even if memory is playing its wicked games. Lestat is a vicious horrible thing with his teeth marks on every part of Louis and yet even with decades of freedom, a new partner, the ability to recognise and condemn cruelty and abusive actions, Louis still wants him back. Knowing what he is, what he can do, Louis wants him back. It never mattered if vampires can dream, for Lestat haunts his waking days, a torturous vision of the only living one Louis really loves.

[gutsby]

Playing Dangerous

Pairing: Detective Dixon x Reader

Summary: Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Warnings: NSFW. Thigh riding. Brat taming. Daddy kink. Dubcon elements vis-à-vis power imbalance and forceful facefucking, plus some dark-ish dirty talk, face slapping, overstimulation where Daryl keeps making you cum after you say that you’re finished (all meant to be consensual).

Notes: Big big thank you to @dilfsandmartinis for this filthy lil idea!! 🫣🩷 Requests are always welcome :-)

Shitty was an understatement.

This was a full-blown, top-notch terror of an evening, rivaled only in its sheer lethality by the time you once broke your nose and got arrested twice in the same day.

Tonight was likely to be a close second, though.

You’d spent all of ten minutes in the center of that hot and sweaty club, fighting madly not to drop your drinks or lose your purse, when suddenly, simultaneously, it seemed every guy around you had lost the power of self-control. You were prodded and groped like a shiny slab of meat ripe for any man’s hands—and no matter how hard you elbowed each offender, you couldn’t find reprieve. You were constantly being grabbed.

You’d grumbled as much to your friends, and they’d told you to ‘lighten up’ and ‘not be so surprised when you were wearing something like that.’

Something like what? A super mini skirt and a bustier?

You promptly informed each member of your party they could kiss your ass, and left.

That had been almost half an hour ago, and you were still currently stuck outside the club waiting for a lift. In the snow. With no jacket, or adequate covering.

Every time a taxi passed, you’d wobble over to the street corner and wave your hand, but on each endeavor, without fail, its driver would shoot you a dirty look and speed right off. Like you had, ‘I’M GONNA ROB YOU’ written on your forehead or else smelled of rotting flesh.

You were mystified, distraught, and supremely pissed off. You didn’t know what you were doing wrong.

The second you saw a semi-reputable looking Dodge Charger pull up to the curb, you decided you’d had enough. Uber or not, you needed a fucking ride.

You stalked over to the vehicle, already seeing its passenger side window creeping down on your approach. Your arms were quick to fold over your chest as you bent down and scowled,

“Could you please take me home?”

The man you saw inside looked polished. Well-groomed.

You hardly had more than a second or two to inspect his appearance, though, because in an instant, he was leaning over the center console to shoot you a smile.

“How much, hon?”

You heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, someone was taking you seriously.

You reached for the door handle and tumbled right in.

“Any price, just name it,” you groaned. You rubbed your face with both hands and leaned back in the seat. Almost unable to believe your stroke of good fortune after so many failed attempts, you let out a shaky, but grateful, breath and spread your legs just a little to get comfy.

“Good,” the man to your left said, calmly, evenly...then, “Now put your hands where I can see them.”

You lowered your hands from your face and gave the stranger a puzzled look.

“What?”

“Hands, show me hands,” he said, voice raising ever slightly in volume.

What the fuck was he on? Staring you down with that stupid, self-righteous face, lip curled in a melodramatic snarl like he could’ve been one of those lousy fuckin’—

“Police,” he barked. Louder, this time. Flashing a badge before your panic-stricken eyes and clenching his jaw.

Your hands flew up instinctively.

Was it illegal to hail a cab now?!

You didn’t have time to think, or blink, or do much else besides breathe when the well-dressed man got out of the car and instructed you to do the same. Your hands and feet seemed to move of their own accord as you gingerly slipped out from the front seat of the car to the cold wintry night outside. You were pushed to your knees on the concrete sidewalk and made to kneel.

To your right, you saw a gaggle of college kids strolling by—some pointing, others laughing, but all watching in muted awe as the undercover cop circled to your back.

“You have the right to remain silent—” he started, reaching for the handcuffs on his belt.

“Excuse me?!” you hissed.

“—anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law—” he continued. A couple gentle clinks and suddenly your wrists were in chains.

“What’d I do? What the fuck did I do?”

“You have a right to an attorney,” he droned on, heedless of your cries as he read your Miranda rights, “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

You felt tears spring to your eyes as both cuffs locked into place and you were being hauled back onto your feet, sniveling and sobbing before throngs of amused onlookers. Your face burned with embarrassment.

“I didn’t know it was a crime, officer— I didn’t know, I swear— I-I-I’m so fucking drunk!” you blubbered as he guided you swiftly to the rear of his car. You practically bawled when he opened the back door.

“I just really needed a taxi!” you wailed, legs shaking as he started to lower you into the vehicle.

At that, he stopped.

He tugged you back on your feet and spun you around.

“A what?” he asked.

“A taxi,” you cried, “All the other drivers kept— kept driving away, I thought, I-I don’t know, I thought you might be another Uber driver or something.”

The man’s expression betrayed a change, though you couldn’t decipher just what that was through your tears. You sniffled and tried to wipe your cheek with your shoulder but ended up smearing more makeup in your line of sight. You whimpered at a pathetic pitch.

“Taxi,” the police officer repeated, seeming to mull over the word in his mind like it was the latest addition to the English language. He frowned.

Through your tear-streaked vision, you could just then detect the faintest trace of affliction…even remorse? His eyes wavered between your face, your ensemble, and the ground below, making a couple quick circuits before finally settling on your wet, bleary gaze.

His voice sounded strained to you now.

“You weren’t…trying to have sex with me?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You coughed, blinked, looked the man up and down and hardly knew to even shake your head with how blind-sided you felt.

“W-What? What?”

“You’re not…a prostitute?” the man said, almost pained.

That query threw you for a loop just the same. You pressed your weight on the car and sensed a strange unsteadinesses seize your limbs. This undercover cop thought you were a hooker—and a cheap one at that, game for any price the man was offering—and presently, you felt queasy. You looked down at your outfit.

It surely wasn’t that revealing, was it? He couldn’t have been so easily convinced of your profession by a...pair of glossy go-go boots, latex skirt, and lacy top, right?

Okay, you looked a little bit like a hooker.

Worse yet, you noticed a wad of cash stuffed between your left tit and armpit, from the time you tried to bribe the bouncer for a ride while leaving the bar. A loose cigarette stuck behind your ear, two hickeys suckled into the skin of your neck, and a teensy bag of blow to boot, tucked haphazardly between an assortment of Trojans and Magnums strewn lazily throughout your purse.

Alright, you could’ve been cast in the next Pretty Woman remake, but who cares? Half the girls in the club were dressed just as scantily, if not more so.

You somehow mustered the strength to squeeze your hands into frozen little fists behind your back and gave the officer a brazen look.

“Think I don’t have anyone better to fuck?” you scoffed.

The detective’s expression went from inscrutable to uncomfortable in fewer than two seconds. He seemed hardly able to look you in the eye any longer, casting sidelong stares at the crowd growing larger on the sidewalk. Collective curiosity piqued at the sight of a cop and a would-be streetwalker making small talk outside of the club, he knew he had to get out of this. Quick.

“I’ll, uh, take ya home, ma’am,” he said under his breath.

Before you could either accept or reject his offer, he had your cuffs undone—discreetly—and your body shuffled hastily inside his car. You heard the door slam shut and saw the officer make quick strides toward the driver’s side. You raised both brows as soon as he re-entered.

“That’s it?” you quipped.

“What?” he returned as he started the engine.

“You make that hot-shot unlawful arrest in front of all those people, and you’re not even gonna say sorry?”

The man made every effort not to shoot you a look in the rearview mirror. Slowly, he pulled into the street.

“Well...y’know, you do look the part. But I’m sorry.” Proffering one of the most pitiful apologies you’d heard in your life, the detective fixed his gaze on the road.

You knew he was bluffing. The man was humiliated as shit, too coy to come clean with the fact that he’d just made an egregious error, and now offering you a ride all to make himself out to be the good guy—and quite possibly avoid a wrongful arrest lawsuit.

Maybe it was the residual amounts of alcohol still coursing through your veins or else the cocaine, but you couldn’t let the dipshit get off that easy. You scrambled your way up to the front of the car.

It was at that moment Detective Dixon sincerely wished he’d driven the squad car—complete with a cage, of sorts, to keep inmates locked away in the back seat—rather than his unmarked vehicle, to be making arrests that night. He stifled a groan when you plopped down in the passenger seat next to him.

“What do you mean, ‘looked the part,’ hm?” you quizzed, burning a hole through the side of his head with how intently you were watching him.

“Put yer seatbelt on,” the man rolled his eyes, attention never straying from the long line of cars ahead of him, “And where do you live?”

“Over on ‘Fuck 12’ Avenue, Officer...Dixon?” you answered sarcastically, scanning his chest for a nametag.

“Detective,” he corrected, “Friends call me Daryl.”

“Detective Dixon, I am not your friend.” You smirked, and for the first time, you thought your discomfited front-seat companion might be tempted to crack one too. You watched him fight his base instincts, however, and force a frown instead. Still not tearing his gaze from the road, he reached over, blindly, for your seatbelt.

“C’mon now, buckle up,” he urged, echoing the words of a concerned father but somehow making it sound far more sexy when he said it. You swallowed a giggle and swatted his hand away.

“Detective!” you feigned an offended gasp.

“Ah, hush up, will ya?” Daryl muttered as his broad, veiny hand continued fumbling for the seatbelt, “You know it’s against the law to— shit!”

The two of you simultaneously leapt in your seats with near-identical sounds of...shock. You, feeling his fingers accidentally graze that tender spot between your legs and him, in turn, finding it unclothed. And soaked.

Detective Dixon retracted his hand just as fast as he’d sunk it in place, only holding it up in the air for an instant—but that was all either of you needed to see that his digits were glistening. You clamped your legs tight together and sucked in a breath.

Under any normal set of circumstances, you would’ve been much more in tune with the way your body was reacting to external stimuli. With all the commotion of your almost-arrest and the subsequent desire to exact revenge on the undercover detective, you hadn’t even realized how physically aroused you were.

Still reeling from his touch, you sank back in your seat. Suddenly more conscious of your bodily fluids than ever before, and embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” Daryl blurted out in a hurry. Gripping the steering wheel and pretending not to notice the slight wet slip of his right hand.

You couldn’t speak. He wouldn’t dare to venture a look to see if you might.

Now this would make for one hell of a career-ending lawsuit, Detective Dixon thought with a grimace. Wrongful arrest, soliciting sex on the clock, making unwanted advances on a woman who was technically, in a sense, being detained in his car while he—

Jumped, again, the second he felt your hand on his own.

You were pulling his arm over to your side of the car.

When Daryl turned his head, he paled the instant he saw you bring his hand to your mouth. Watched you pucker your lips and move them over his still-damp fingertips. Then suck them inside your mouth, three at a time.

He nearly swerved off the road and took out six civilians.

“Eyes...on the road, detective,” you murmured quietly, words garbled by the obstruction of his fingers.

Daryl swallowed thickly, and then, reluctantly, turned his attention to the street. He didn’t see much of what was in front of him.

“13 Peachtree Place.” You plucked his fingers out of your mouth just long enough to tell him your address. Then you went right back to suckling down the skin, letting your tongue glide gently over the tender, slick digits.

Daryl stifled a groan. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Guided by the faintest idea of where your neighborhood was located, he pulled off onto a side road and tried hard not to let out a sound when you sucked his three fingers to the back of your mouth—and felt your throat seize just a little at the sudden intrusion.

You pulled him out of your mouth with a wet pop and started over his lap.

You, yourself, were hardly more aware of what you were doing than why you were doing it, a slave to your sensory impulses and a sucker for a man in brown slacks. You crawled across the lap of the plainclothes officer who’d accused you of ‘selling yourself’ just minutes ago, only to show him what you were happy to do, free of charge.

It wasn’t your most gloriously feminist moment, to be sure, but then again, when were you going to get another chance to fuck the police and get off scot-free like this?

You palmed Detective Dixon through his pants and smiled when he whined just a little.

“Bet you wish I was selling, huh? Wish I was some pretty little thing for you to use at your convenience?” you purred, stroking over him gently.

Daryl gritted his teeth but said nothing in return. He brought the car to a stop under a red light.

You didn’t like the quiet types. You squeezed him harder in your hand, felt his erection grow even larger between your fingers, and moved up to press a kiss on his neck, tasting tiny beads of sweat there.

“How badly did you wish I was a whore, detective?”

When you leaned in for another couple light kisses, you were startled to feel a hand at your own throat, jerking your face up to his.

“Already knew you were the second I saw you.” he returned, deadpan, before your wide and unsuspecting eyes.

When the light turned green, he released your neck and reached for the back of your head. You let out a muffled whimper as he shoved you down against his crotch, stiff as a rock underneath your cheek.

“Why? Does a whore wanna suck it?” he asked, pressing his foot on the gas.

At a moment’s notice, you were robbed of your slight dominant edge and made to grovel under his touch like a bitch in heat. Daryl rubbed your plush lips over the mound in his pants like he was proud to make you feel it. And you, yielding as ever, made no attempt to keep from being manhandled because, if you were honest with yourself, you knew that you wanted it that way. You smiled against the cotton blend of his trousers and made a soft moan along the fabric, letting him drag you by the hair any way that he pleased.

When he yanked your head up and the car came to another stop, you weren’t surprised in the least by the trail of saliva that followed your lips. You locked eyes with his steel blue set and grinned again, quite stupidly.

“Well?” Daryl pressed, giving your hair a sharp tug.

You thought the sight of your watering mouth and blissed-out expression would have sufficed for an answer, but clearly, he wanted more. You worked gracelessly over the belt buckle and zip beneath your chin, and had his cock freed in seconds.

The car sped up again. Detective Dixon’s grip tightened on your scalp.

The second your lips latched onto the head of his dick, you knew you’d be in for a bumpy ride. He hissed as soon as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him, gripped the wheel like a vice, and made sure to spare your throat no expense the second he came to a sloppy halt.

Either your car was in bumper-to-bumper traffic, or the man couldn’t drive for shit while getting road head. You’d put a large sum of cash on the latter if you had it.

Regardless, you bobbed your head up and down and tried your best to suppress the urge to gag when you could. It was tough work, flattening your tongue down his length, gripping his cock at the base, sucking hard until your cheeks hollowed out, and then bump went the whole fucking car, and suddenly your throat was forced to take four more inches in the span of a second.

You lifted your head to protest but were swiftly met with a firm hand holding it down. Keeping it down.

“You’re done sucking this cock when I say you’re done,” Daryl informed you sternly, sucking a breath through his teeth when you gagged around him once more.

He pulled you off just long enough to breathe—and answer a question.

“You live over by McGinty’s? Or MacManus’?”

“McVeigh’s,” you supplied in a shaky voice. No one ever got the Irish pubs around you right.

Daryl hummed and shoved you right back onto his dick, pretending to take no notice of the way you gripped his thigh or tried to groan, ‘Fucker’ against his shaft. Your oral cavity was presently flooded with cock, pre-cum, and saliva, and the longer you sucked, the harsher he got to pushing your head up and down. Your eyes stung with tears.

“In through yer nose, darlin’, almost there,” he hummed, smug as ever. Whether he meant you were close to your house or he was about to cum down your throat, you couldn’t be sure. Your mouth slipped and squelched gently over the man’s throbbing member and made tiny whimpers when you felt you might climax any minute.

In a clandestine act, you moved one hand down your body while you continued blowing Daryl’s brains out. You were half-cockdrunk and hardly more sentient than a sex doll, it seemed, but you could’ve sworn you were quite discreet about the endeavor between your legs. You had just grazed the slick wet seam of your slit, about to press two fingers to your clit, when a hand jerked at a clump of your hair. Hard.

As soon as your mouth was disconnected from his shaft, Daryl landed a tart slap on your cheek.

“My baby need something?” he said, almost tauntingly.

You blinked up at him, failing to understand, until he reached down and pried your hand away from your heat.

“If tha’ wet, greedy cunt needs sum’n, ya better tell me.”

You were amazed how deftly he appeared to maneuver the car now, just pinching your face between forefinger and thumb as he veered down winding streets. When you paused a second or two to answer, you were punished with another slap.

“Just wanted a touch,” you whined, trying to rub the cheek that was stinging and finding yourself outmatched by Daryl’s grip. He squeezed you even tighter.

“Then you say that next time. With your big girl words,” Detective Dixon grunted, bringing the car to a sudden halt and hauling you into his arms.

You looked small splayed across his lap. Perhaps even tinier just straddling one leg, as you were, body writhing beneath his touch and moans and whimpers bubbling up your throat one at a time.

When you looked around, you realized you were home.

Part of you wanted to bolt, for a second. Go sprinting up the lawn toward the safety of your home and jump straight under the covers, a place where you would be free to touch yourself as you pleased—no smug homicide detective breathing down your throat.

But, as you straddled his wide, beefy thigh and felt one gentle pulse of the muscle underneath, you knew you were done for. He saw just as clearly as you that your body was in need of release. Not from your fingers, not from his tongue, perhaps not even from the fat, throbbing cock that had been fucking your mouth the whole way home.

In this moment, all you needed was for him to bounce you on his thigh, let you ride, and make you cum.

Your expression must have looked exceptionally pathetic when you tried stirring your hips and felt two hands stop you cold in your tracks.

“What did daddy just say about big girl words, hm?” Daryl’s voice took on a tender lilt so unlike anything he’d said or done before that you almost didn’t hear the word ‘daddy,’ or think it strange at all. It seemed so natural playing off of his tongue.

“I need you, daddy,” you whimpered.

To say you were putty in his hands was still something short of the truth. You were damn near liquified underneath his touch, half-limp and wholly yearning as the man steadied you in place and began his delicate ministrations like you’d never experienced before.

The once callous, largely cruel law enforcement figure took on something of a gentle affect as he ran his hands up and down your body and let you ease yourself into his touch. There were kisses, caresses, and all sorts of soft little touches on your skin that made you feel pampered and prized, even precious in his eyes. Was this really the same man whose cock had been choking you to the point of tears just minutes ago?

Daryl hiked your skirt up your hips until the sight of your bare, needy cunt was all he could see. Still, he stayed cool and trained his eyes up to yours.

“How’s that feel, honey?”

Even as still as a stone, you felt sparks of hot energy fly up from your center. Remembering your big girl words, you replied, ‘So good, daddy, I just need some more.’

Daryl seemed happy to oblige his good little girl and made sure to shift his knee a little to the right. At the slightest bit of friction, you moaned.

“Oh, daddy,” you whined, leaning in to that praise-heavy dynamic Daryl seemed keen to play out. When he bounced his foot once or twice, shaking your whole body as he did, you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and grabbed hold of his thigh. Even rolled your hips right back to his movements.

As light, tender sounds tumbled past your lips with increasing frequency, so too did Daryl’s mouth impart more gentle kisses and dirtier words for your ears to hear:

“Such a pretty little thing, ridin’ daddy’s thigh like tha’.”

“Grindin’ tha’ needy wet pussy all over my leg.”

“Gonna make a mess fer daddy? Show me how much my sweet girl’s been needin’ a good fuck?”

You loved every last filthy syllable. You braced hard against his leg and rutted up and down, in circles all around until you thought you could’ve soaked his whole pant leg. Meanwhile, he was bouncing his thigh, stroking your sides, and making sure you were never wanting for affection or praise as a soft swell of pleasure came dimly into view.

When he flattened one palm across your tummy and told you to lean back, you knew the end wasn’t far from sight.

Daryl took hold of your hips and made an even quicker cadence with his leg, bouncing you fast and hard and hopelessly tight against his thigh as he drank in every one of your moans coming out.

You pressed one hand to the window—long since fogged up and opaque with the hot breaths you were panting—and placed the other on Daryl’s shoulder.

You could tell by the glint in his eye and the grin on his face that he loved you like this. Spread out and desperate for release as you rocked your hips a vicious course over him, using his body for leverage as you fucked his leg for all it was worth.

“Tha’s my girl,” Daryl beamed, practically scintillating with joy.

He watched you rut your hips again and again in the most obscene sort of fashion, riding his thigh with a moan never far from your lips. You squeezed his shoulder.

“Daddy, I—” you started, only to swallow your words with a whimper the second Daryl started bouncing his foot even faster.

“Daddy what?” he teased, pretending not to notice the elevated pitch to your whines.

“Fuck— you know what!” you cried.

“Nah, pretty baby, I ain’t got the slightest clue,” Detective Dixon was exuberant now, grinning from ear to ear as the pleasure visibly mounted inside of you, “Fuck my leg a little harder and tell me how it feels.”

You did. He helped. Even gripped your hips and moved them for you, keeping that breakneck pace as you moaned and writhed and sank your nails into his shoulder as the feelings just got to be too much.

With one last strangled cry, you came all over his thigh.

And, whether that climax lasted two seconds or two hours, the man beneath you didn’t really care—he kept bouncing his leg as you finished, and long after you had, as well.

You seized both of his shoulders this time as you tried to slow his movements. He made no such effort to oblige, only flashing a smile and nodding his big, dumb head as he said:

“I want one more.”

What? No fucking way, you thought, communicating as much through your frantic eyes and the shake of your head. Daryl kept right on moving his leg and holding you firm to that mile-wide wet spot on his thigh, which only grew larger and larger the longer you rode him.

As a bizarre, unfamiliar feeling sank to the pit of your stomach and twisted, you weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or cum all over again—luckily, your body decided for you and graced you with yet another orgasm. You gritted your teeth and tried not to scream as a wild wave of a new sensation washed over your senses…

And Daryl kept bouncing that fucking knee.

Mind-numbing waves of ecstasy came crashing closer and closer than ever before, and frankly, you couldn’t quite tell how, or when, you’d ever cum again until you did it, you felt it: walls clenching back and forth while your vision blurred with pleasure. A sound wavering somewhere between a scream and a plea—Daryl, keep that goddamn knee to yourself, for fuck’s sake!—tore out of your chest and prompted you to sink all ten nails into flesh that told your sly detective it was time to stop.

Your whole frame was shaking by the time his foot came to rest. If you hadn’t been so fucked-out and sensitive, you just might’ve jumped out of the car the second it did.

But you didn’t. You stayed frozen in place, let your vision return apace, and didn’t let your eyes stray an inch from Daryl’s smug face while your third orgasm subsided.

Fighting every urge to giggle when he squeezed your ass and begged for another.

“Fourth one’s gonna cost ya, asshole.”

“Oh yeah?” Daryl said, grinning, “What’s your price?”

[tom-hossain-minis]

Holy shit politics tumblr what the fuck. Are there no communists on this site? Or people with memory greater than that of dory from finding nemo ? Does nobody recall every promise Biden not only broke but actively did the opposite of what he said he was gonna do? And I also have to ask, and I’m sorry to do so, but I think it’s important, are you all white? Cause I seen yall saying “your pic friends will suffer” and the way it’s phrased makes me think perhaps yall are not yourselves poc, for the most part. Furthermore, all *my* poc friends are well fucking aware that Joe “I’m against desegregation” Biden is a fucking racist POS, as is his entire administration. Let’s not even get into increased climate destruction, his support for trans people being barred from sports, his general apathy towards lgbt people, his really fucking vile southern border behaviour and policy, his explicit fucking islamaphobia, anti black racism, and anti-Asian racism, his supreme belief in police barbarism, his total economic shitshow these last four years, and finally, something I suspect non Americans literally are unable to fathom, his vitriolic hatred of the rest of the world, and the danger he poses to humanity’s continued survival as a result. It’s true, your political system sucks fucking balls, I pity you for having only one party and not being able to remove your head of state, but don’t you dare tell me that you think Joe Biden is a “good president in most regards except Palestine”. And guess what, “trump is worse” is something I wholeheartedly agree with. But for some reason you Americans have no concept of “saying no”. You don’t have a permanent minimum standard. I can’t understand it, is there some weird part of American culture that says you can’t have a sense of personal dignity, or, dare I say it, a spine? It’s inconciliables to me that every person in the most well off, powerful, heavily defended nation on earth would not only allow themselves to be, in the most shakespearien sense, raped by their political system every four years, but that *some* would revel in it. I genuinely mean it when I say I cannot understand this behaviour. Aren’t you outraged at this treatment? Where is your fury against such degradation? Wouldn’t you fight and work and claw at everything against you until your bones were raw and white and broken rather than settle for this most violating and humiliating of lifestyles, in the hope of something better? Don’t get me wrong, I come from the cesspool that is Britain, and that’s its own thing, but I know why and how the British spirit was so thoroughly crushed so I know why people have given up there, and even then, we not only still have some resemblance of fight, but also a system that at least in theory can allow for some better representation than the American one. Britain has a proud history of rioting when things get too bad, we stole the idea from the French, just like everything in our history and culture, but America never seemed to have the same; is it just too vast a country? I just, really need someone to explain it. When and how were the American people politically lobotomised? And I’m sorry if this is rude or confusing but I really am at a loss. As a scientist I really am dedicated to and obsessed with making the world a better place for everyone, but America, the biggest problem by a landslide so massive it could be its own planet, completely and totally baffles me.

Tl;dr: fuck Joe Biden, I have a sneaking suspicion tumblr is mostly racist white people, America’s very existence can drive a man insane like the visage of Cthulhu

[dsireland86]

There Is Beauty In The Pain

Chapter 6 Part 2

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa  @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp

Sophie:

I brushed my teeth, placing my brush in the holder once finished and turned out the bathroom light. Climbing into bed, I sat for a moment, thinking about the day and all that had happened. I was still in a whirlwind of emotions about it, feeling like it was a first time thing, even though it certainly wasn’t.

Noah’s hands on me, exploring places only one other man had ever gone, was the last thing I ever expected, especially after the fight we had the other day.

To start with, Perry’s texts came out of nowhere, blindsiding me to the point that it made me panic. It had been almost three months since I’d last seen him, since those last horrible, fucked-up texts and video (which were still on my phone), were sent to me.

I’d blocked his number, but he must have gotten another number, because that morning, a text came through that said “I miss you and I’m sorry” from a random number I didn’t recognize, automatically thinking they had the wrong number.

I wrote back and said such, but another text came through quickly that read: “No, I don’t. But I have yours memorized, Baby.”

I knew then I was screwed. The conversation with Perry was brief, but the things he told me were different than the other times before. Even his tone sounded different. I wanted to believe him, but after the night before with Noah, I just couldn’t.

I told Perry to go away and  leave me alone, instantly blocking the number, but keeping the texts just in case. And then it happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control the corrupted thoughts running through my head, and that morning, Noah could tell how wrecked I was. He thought it was his fault and it crushed me that he felt that way. 

I just couldn’t explain it the right way to him, yet, because none of it made sense in my head yet. Then I made the mistake of calling him Perry, and man, that made things go south real fast.

I stayed to myself for a few days, eventually opening the prison gates in mind and allowing myself some freedom. Noah was there, waiting for me with a smile, a hug, and an apology which I accepted gratefully, ready to put the past behind me and move on. 

The moment Noah touched me for the first time, my skin screamed. It wasn’t enough to just have his hands on me. I wanted him in me, molding me to him and allowing him to evade every single crack, corner and crevice of my body. And he did; mostly.

His finger inside me was something I never thought would be so addictive. He knew what he was doing when he twisted or hooked, or inserted another finger, almost filling me.

The way he softly yet confidently circled my clit, making me say things I’d never said before because I was never allowed to speak during sex with Perry. He said it broke his concentration, when really, now I knew he was probably thinking about somebody else. 

Then came the moment when Noah went fully down on me, holding nothing back as he licked, sucked, and kissed my center like it had always belonged to him. In reality I guess it did because Perry, never once, did even a quarter of what Noah was doing. Even though I was forced to pleasure him and make him happy and content, Perry said that sort of thing wasn’t for him. 

Noah brought me to such an unreal climax, that the way I came for him was out of this world. It gave me such a high, I was literally seeing stars, even making him cum in his jeans. 

All of these little things Noah did to me earlier in the day attached themselves to my memory, refusing to forget any detail. They would stay there forever, buried deep in a secret place. But the best part of it all was how Noah made my heart feel through it all.

He was sweet and gentle and made me feel completely worthy of everything he did to and for me

I had never experienced an orgasm like that, nor being praised and worshiped in the way Noah had. The entire experience was euphoric, almost ethereal, and I hoped it wasn’t just a one time thing. 

The subtle knock on the door brought me out from reminiscing and it opened slowly. Noah stood in the entrance, looking so fucking delicious that I had to squeeze my legs together, trying to suppress the strong sensual, wet feeling cascading between them. I knew Noah noticed because of the way he smiled at me.

“I just came to check on you and see if you were okay?”

“Well, that was sweet of you,” I answered, patting the spot next to me on the bed. Noah’s eyes met mine as he made his way over to the bed, dropping on the mattress next to me. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied.

I wasn’t oblivious to the way Noah’s eyes raked over me. I was in my sleepy pants and a tank top and didn’t have the chance to grab my hoodie before he walked in. I was chilly, goosebumps spreading over my skin for proof and making my nipples harden.  Noah’s eyes lingered on my breasts a little longer than I think he meant to because when he looked up at me, a slight reddish hue graced his cheeks.  

I reached out and caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of his head leaning into my palm. He looked at me again, this time a little sleepier. 

Noah had a face that could fit anywhere. Sometimes he was hot as hell, other times cute. Right now, he was absolutely adorable, but then other times, I’ve seen him look so angry that it scared me. But I knew I was safe with him. I knew Noah would never, ever hurt me. 

“Sleepy?”  He nodded slowly. 

“Did Matt mention anything about earlier,” I asked, quietly. Noah shook his head, slipping his hand between my knees.

“I think he was too embarrassed to,” he chuckled, letting his hand slide down my thigh. Even through the light fabric of my pants I could feel the heaviness of his touch, sparking a sudden need inside me. I sighed, indulging myself in the feeling of Noah’s hands on me again.

Without taking my eyes off his, I lowered my legs and let them fall open, hearing the strangled groan leave his chest as I did so, proving he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him.

“Round two,” Noah smirked, leaning over and laying his lips on me, kissing me softly. I took his hands, lacing his long, tattooed fingers with ming. My mouth fell open with his, our tongues pressing together as Noah let go of my hands and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting and pulling me into his lap, where he continued to kiss me. I bit back and swallowed the moans that were begging to escape. I didn’t want to sound so needy and desperate.

Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, I settled comfortably in Noah’s lap, unintentionally wiggling against the hard bulge pressed against my heated center. 

It was Noah who moaned first, separating us for a moment to look at me. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sophie,” he said with absoluteness. I knew he was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes.  “You’re pretty hot yourself,” I giggled, running my fingertips up and down his back, feeling his muscles relax beneath my touch. “What are we doing?” he asked, his deep chocolate eyes searching mine. “I don’t know,” I answered, lowering my gaze.

Noah lifted my chin and kissed me again, slipping his hands under my tank top and placing them on the skin of my back. His hands felt like fire to my icy skin, making me shiver. I welcomed his touch, though. It melted away every unwanted touch from my past every time I felt it. 

His fingertips danced along my spine as memories began to unfold, images that had my eyes filling with tears. I threw my arms around his neck and rested my cheek against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”  I nodded, unable to answer for fear he’d hear the tears in my voice.  “Hey, look at me,” Noah said, pulling me away from him. I Didn't.  “Look at me,” he repeated, tone calm. But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to see me feeling weak again.

His fingers were on my chin, lifting it to look at him. His eyes darted between mine and I could see the worry behind them. “You're safe,” Noah whispered, cupping my face in his large hands, eyes boring straight into me as if penetrating my soul. “I promise.”  That word. Promise. God how that word could break me.  

He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “I'm sorry.” “For what?” “For not being easy,” I whimpered, wiping the loose tears that trickled down my cheeks “Well, I don't want easy, I never asked for it. I just want you.”  I started to shake my head, but Noah stopped me by grabbing my face. “Just the way you are,” he said, confidently. 

I stared into his eyes, waiting to see that same look I would see in Perry’s eyes when he would lie to me, but I didn’t see it.  “Really?” “Really,” Noah repeated, without missing a beat, running his thumbs over my lips. I frowned in confusion. “Even the broken pieces?” I wondered how that was even possible; to love someone, broken pieces and all.  Noah pecked my lips. “Especially the broken pieces,” he winked.  My heart suddenly felt ten times lighter as my head hit his chest and I laid it against it, relishing the sound of his beating heart.

Folio:

I knew the risk of it happening. I knew it was possible. I just didn’t think it would be so soon, so fast. 

Sophie fell for him; Noah and all his charm. Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? After all, they shared a unique moment with each other and given everything that happened to her in the last month, Noah was the one her heart felt safe with. They weren't officially together, but all of us knew there was something there. 

But there was an undeniable pull between me and her, one that came and went like a hot summer storm.   There were moments that were simple and mundane, our friendship blossoming into something I never knew I needed. 

But then there were moments when the fever between us was so hot, so incredibly strong, that it felt like we could burn the world down around us. 

I couldn’t explain it. I knew Sophie felt something whenever we were together. I could always see it in her eyes, especially when we touched, but neither one of us ever said anything.

So, I kept all my feelings to myself because of how worried I was about losing her for good. If I confessed the way I felt there was a chance she'd be angry with me or worse I'd scare her away and that wasn't something I was willing to risk. 

There were hints, though that spoke loudly; the way she would watch me so intently and her reaction when I played my drum kit, or the way she would cuddle up close to me on our random fishing adventures. 

But my favorite was when I took her out on my bike a few times while Noah spent the morning with Ash at the gym. The warm California air rushed through us both, making the space between hot and sweaty as she clung to me tightly. 

Sometimes she'd rest her head on my back and I would hold her arm pressed tightly around my waist. It was magical, being with Sophie that way. It always felt right and I often thought I'd maybe stand a chance. 

But each time we got home and I watched her and Noah hug and greet each other, it felt like I'd been punched in the gut or worse, had my heart ripped out of my chest. I'd pretend I didn't notice, only to hide myself away in my room for a while, sometimes getting high or just stareing at the ceiling thinking about what it would be like if it was me she had fallen for instead of Noah.

The answer was always the same, too; I'd be the happiest man in the world. 

Six Months Later

Noah:

The warm liquid seeped through my shorts, creating a large grayish stain to appear. Luckily, we were the only ones home, so I didn’t risk the chance of getting shit from any of the guys before getting the chance to change.

“See what you fucking do to me,” I smiled after Sophie pulled me in between her thighs, wrapping her legs around the back of mine. 

Her arousal made me aroused and right after her orgasm hit her, mine came crashing into me before I could stop it.

Sophie held my face between her hands and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth and pressing it to mine. The way she kissed me fully had me wrecked. My legs were still shaking. 

She ran her hands through my hair, wrapping them behind my neck. “I fucking love it when you do that,” I moaned, lowering my head to her shoulder.  “What, this?” running her hands through my hair, her nails raking against my scalp.  “Yup. That.”  Sophie chuckled.

I raised my head and looked over her face, taking in all the sweet little imperfections I noticed: a few small scars on her cheekbones and under her eyes, proof of all the hard months of physical abuse she lived through.

“So beautiful,” I whispered to myself. Sophie shook her head and instantly looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Hey, look at me,” slipping my finger under her chin and turning her face towards me. 

“You are,” I assured her. My lips formed a thin line and curved into a smile, but Sophie covered her face with her hands as if she was embarrassed. I pulled them away, and brought them to my chest instead, holding them there tightly.

‘Don't you dare cover your face, especially not from me,” I scolded. “You've spent too much of your life hiding that beautiful face because of…”  but I didn't finish my thought. I didn't want to say the asshole’s name that was responsible for all of Sophie’s trauma in the past. I didn't like bringing up the abuse either and all the shit he put her through. “Yeah, well, you know,” I huffed, I mumbled.

I bushed the loose hair out of Sophie’s face, forcing a smile. I was fighting hard against the urge of wanting to finally be inside her, filling her and worshiping her body the way it deserved to be.

But I was the one choosing to wait for sex. I wanted to give her more time to adjust to everything that was happening in her world and all around her and not feel forced or pressured just to satisfy me. 

The soft touch of her fingers as they slid down my cheek when she touched me spoke louder than words. It was refreshing and I couldn’t resist leaning into her touch.  I had so much to tell Sophie. Over the last nine and a half months, I'd learned everything about her, yet I hadn’t been fully transparent with her.  I had secrets of my own that I wasn't sure I was capable of telling her, things about my past that still haunted me, but I knew I had to try. And soon.

"I'm ready Noah, I'm ready for you to have all of me.”  Was she serious? My forehead creased and I knew Sophie could easily read the expression on my face.  “Sophie, are you sure? Don't you think,” “I have been thinking, Noah! That's all I've been doing! I want you, Noah. I need you, now.” She stared up at me with her doleful eyes, making me weaker by the second. “I’m through with waiting.” 

My hands ached to touch her, my arms to hold her. “Are you sure?” I whispered, sinking down closer to her lips. They were a mere inches apart from each other when she whispered back, “Yes.” 

Fuck.

Our lips crash together in a cry of desperate eagerness. Sophie pulled me into her causing me to have to straddle her lap as my hands tangled around her face and then her hair. I wanted to devour her and suffocate beneath her kisses, consuming as much of her as I could. Her hands found my ass and I uttered a low grumble the moment I felt them attach to me, gripping and tugging on my shorts.  

“Fuck, Sophie,” I breathed, almost falling into her.  “Noah, I want you,” she pleaded. The way she whined, pulling part of my shorts down and running her hand over my skin had me buckling at the knees, weak as hell. “Sophie, baby,” I mumbled against her lips, dropping to my knees and cupping her face to kiss her better. I couldn’t resist her intoxicatingly strong need for me anymore. 

I didn't want to. I wanted to give her every part of me, including every dark and dirty secret I had buried deep inside my head. 

“You own me, baby. You fucking own me; body and soul,” I confessed to her, no longer caring how fast any of this was moving. She whimpered again, making my hard, throbbing cock twitch against the zipper of my shorts. “And everyone is going to know it.” Sophie stopped, pulling away to look at me. “Noah, are you sure?” I smiled at the way she seemed so worried about it. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure about anything before in my life.” She threw herself back into my arms, clinging to me tightly. 

“Noah, let's go upstairs, please,” she begged me, and my heart started pounding even harder than before. I pulled her to her feet, about to do just that, when my phone went off. The ringer was fucking loud, making both of us jump. 

“Motherfucker,” I groaned, pulling it out of my pocket to see who it was. 

“Fucking Matt.” I ignored it, and slid it back into my pocket. “He can wait,” I said, cupping Sophie’s face again, kissing her already bruised, wet lips. Picking her up bridal style, I head towards the staircase, just as my phone went off again.

“Seriously,” I growled in frustration. It was Matt again. Sophie sighed. “Just answer it. And go clean yourself up,” she laughed, pointing down at my shorts still stained with my release from earlier. “No, I'm just going to ignore it again,” I stated, taking her hand, but she pulled away from me. 

“Don't. He's just going to keep calling or worse show up. Just answer it. We'll have time for us later.” 

Sophie laid her hand gently on my arm, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. I grumbled and answered the phone, knowing she was right. 

“Okay, what? Someone better be dying Matt, I swear to god. You just interrupted the most significant moment in the history of me and Sophie.” 

“Noah.”  The somber tone in Matt's voice made stop halfway up the stairs.  “Matt, what’s wrong?”  There was a brief pause.  “Noah, I've got some really fucked up news that you're not going to like. I only found out a little bit ago myself.” I hadn't heard the kind of tone in Matt's voice since… fuck.”

“She's back, isn't she,” I stated, pausing halfway up the stairs. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and I felt like I might throw up. The world around me started to become a little bury as I carefully sat down on the step below me. 

“Yeah, she is, Noah. Sarah's back.

[pukner]

Baz | part two

a steddyhands twt thread turned oneshot

|| Rated Gen || Stede and Ed take a brief vacation to visit Stede's family, and find a surprise.

part one / part two

It's a small shack, nearly a cottage, nestled neatly by the edge of the jungle, where few wander. The path is clearly only walked by a few.

It's-- nice. Like a dream someone else might've had. It's certainly never occurred to Ed to dream of a place like this for himself-- small and unassuming, nothing particularly fine or exciting or remarkable about it.

There's a girl, with a riot of blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, going through various fighting drills in the garden. Dressed practically, sturdy boots and worn trousers. Her movements are as familiar to Ed as his own. Which makes sense, considering who taught Ed the finer points of using a sword.

There's a boy sitting by the porch, and next to him is a man, cane propped up next to him.

He looks good, is the thing. Less strain around the eyes. Older, thinner, less muscle tone. But there's something softer around his mouth. Something gentle about his eyes. He looks up at the exact moment the girl does.

His eyebrows fly up. Ed doesn't know what his face is doing.

"Dad!" say the kids as one, looking moderately pleased.

"Childr--wait, Izzy?" yells Stede, flabbergasted. Which is fair.

"Jesus Christ," says Iz, looking resigned, "Fucking Mary."

"You cursed again!" says Louis, delighted.

"And I won't stop," says Iz, flatly. Then, quietly, "Ed."

"Iz," says Ed.

"Did you know," Stede hisses, rounding on Ed.

"I figured it out the second she said he was a terrible gossip," Ed says, pitching his voice so it would carry.

Izzy's face loses that strange, sad cast and scowls, "I've never gossiped a day in my life, Edward Teach."

"But you do?" says Louis, innocently.

Yeah, like, all the time," says Alma, "with Miss Evelyn and mum, you guys get drunk and--"

"Alright," says Izzy, in the same tone as when the crew gets too uppity, "Why don't we head inside for some fucking drinks. Jesus."

He leans heavy on his cane as he walks. Ed watches him, wonders what human flesh tastes like. Stede looks at him, can clearly read the thought on his face, and pulls him along. The kids are told to stay outside. Grown-up talks, says Iz, and he sounds like a dad. It's hilarious.

It must be said, Ed's extremely fucking confused. He's never seen Iz like this; all unbuttoned and relaxed. No sword at his hip.

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

"It's barely noon," says Stede.

"I'm not having this conversation sober."

"You wanna talk?" says Ed, hopefully.

Iz levels him with an expression of supreme judgment. Ed's really missed his bitchy little face. He also realizes that Stede has a very similar bitchy little face. Is his type just bitchy little men? Is this why he broke up with Jack?

They end up at the table, day drinking.

"I'm not going back," Izzy says, firmly. He seems like a different man. Ed thinks his heart might be breaking. Some horrid, cruel part of him hates Izzy for getting better without him there.

Then, abruptly, he realizes that this is the exact same horrid feeling Iz had about Stede. Silence, again.

"The children seem to like you," Stede says, apropos of nothing.

"They're good kids. That Alma's going to be terrifying one day."

"I don't doubt it," says Stede, "I've heard good things about your beets, by the way."

Iz looks at Ed, baffled. Ed shrugs. Maybe Stede just really likes beets.

"We've been thinking about visiting the children more often," Stede goes on, in that weird airy tone of his, "More shore leaves."

"...we have?" says Ed.

"Yes, Edward," says Stede, pointedly. Ed doesn't give a rat's ass about the children. He nods anyway.

"...good for you?" says Iz, confused, "I don't care?"

Stede nudges Ed. Ed nudges him back. Stede stares at him.

Wait, oh. "Can we visit?" asks Ed.

"Why would you want to?" asks Iz, "You fucking hate being on land."

"I'd do it for you," Ed says.

Izzy blinks, startled. That hurts. He deserves it, though.

"Because you love me," he says, slowly.

"And I've unfortunately grown somewhat fond of you," Stede adds, in the manner of someone delivering some very bad news.

"What," says Izzy.

"My fault," says Ed.

"I don't feel murderous rage when I look at you anymore," Izzy informs Stede, "That's all you're getting."

"I'll take it," says Stede, looking determined.

Ed knows that look. Doggedly determined, this one. Iz is about to be wooed. No idea what he's just signed up for, poor guy.

Nothing's been solved, of course. Ed still tastes blood in his mouth, Izzy's never going to walk the same again, Stede still has very little idea of how deep this whole thing goes. But it's a start.

Outside, the kids are laughing. Iz has eased up, doesn't look so small.

"So," says Ed, grinning all shit-eating. Because they haven't solved it, and he'll never be his First Mate again, but Ed has permission to try. Which is a big improvement from Past Tense Iz, "Tell me about your beets, Iz."

"Shut the fuck up, Ed," says Iz, but he's grinning back.

They'll be fine. Or, they'll eventually be fine. They'll get there.

And, actually, someone should do something about the Mary-Jackie alliance. Can't let that go unsupervised. Imagine the fucking havoc they'd wreak.

End

[autisticsupervillain]

It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Gamzee Makara vs Darth Vader!

Conditions:

Legends Darth Vader. Speed Equalized.

Scenario:

The Galactic Empire invades the Alternian Empire and Darth Vader storms Alternia, ending up going head to head with Gamzee Makara when his invasion hits the beaches.

Analysis: Gamzee

What sort of relationship did you have with your parents? How did they shape the person you would end up becoming? And, more importantly to today's subject, who would you be without them? How would you have turned out if they had just never been there at all?

In Gamzee Makara's case, he turned out for the better and the worse all at once.

Born on the callous death world of Alternia, Gamzee was born a highblood, being only three spots away from the top of Alternia's barbaric blood color based caste system. As a purple blood, he had the legal right and cultural obligation to subjugate and terrorize all other land dwelling castes. Despite the terrifying amount of power that might imply, you'd be hard pressed to meet a happier bloke on Alternia. He was an oddity. Despite belonging to the most notoriously capricious caste on Alternia, Gamzee was too carefree to willingly hurt anyone.

This is because he was never really taught that he was supposed to be hurting people at all. His lusus, er, giant animal dad, abandoned him at an early age, leaving him to fend entirely for himself. While this might mean he wasn't the bloodthirsty monster he was supposed to be, he was not at all in a healthy situation. Without anyone there to guide him through his life, Gamzee got addicted to the drug known as sopor, which only further fucked up his deteriorating mental state. When Gamzee’s dad did return, it was as a corpse washed up on the beach.

Luckily, there was a way out of this situation. Gamzee was one of twelve trolls predestined to play the video game SGRUB, a video game that would end the world so that Gamzee and his friends would become the Gods of the next one. But, this opportunity to create a better life for himself didn't go according to plan, as a time traveling demon interrupted them on their way to the universe and began hunting them down in a blood thirsty rage.

Many of Gamzee's friends, most of whom didn't really like him very much to begin with, began to crack under the pressure of being hunted as time dragged on and as Gamzee ran out of sopor, the situation continued to weigh on his mind. It was only when Tavros, Gamzee’s best friend and would be boyfriend, was murdered, that he well and truly broke.

It was then that the God Gamzee worshipped came to him in the form of a puppet with a deal he couldn't refuse. Kill your heretical, so called friends. Fo my bidding and slaughter my enemies. Grant me access to this world and foresee my creation so I may destroy all reality and I shall grant you paradise. The Bard humbly obeyed.

This became a massive problem for everyone else, as Gamzee is easily one of the most dangerous Players in the multiverse. While Gamzee never became a proper "God", he still has access to all the boons SBURB/SGRUB Players normally have access to. Mainly, he runs on video game logic, with a Hammerspace inventory that allows him to store ridiculously large objects on his person and pull them out of nowhere whenever and a leveling system that allows him to get stronger by just doing random things, from opening the fridge to winning a fight.

Moreover, Gamzee is specifically noted as a Bard of Rage, making him thematically linked to the primordial concept of Rage, which is one of twelve supreme Aspects which govern reality. Normally, this would allow him to passively nullify the effects of Rage, lessening negative emotions just by... being himself. In combat, however, he's also able to channel Rage to boost himself, allowing to get exponentially stronger the angrier he gets. Combine all that with his natural Highblood strength and Gamzee is easily one of the strongest Non-Gods in the session, outmatching almost everyone else on his team. He's even tough enough to take hits from Caliborn, who's durable enough to tank a black hole that devoured the solar system. Creating a black hole that large would require a Gravitational Binding Energy equivalent to 38,600,000,000 Foe.

Source:

And speaking of his Highblood physiology, Gamzee has telepathic abilities and resistances to the same. Basically, the higher you are on the Hemospectrum, the better your resistance to mind control or mind manipulating effects. As the 3rd highest caste, Gamzee’s resistances are obscene, making him one of the few who can survive Gl'bgolyb's whisper, which otherwise extinguishes all life on the planet through sheer psychic power alone. And his offensive telepathic abilities would be just as powerful, allowing him to control minds, caste illusions, and cause nightmares. As the direct descendant of the most powerful Purple Blood who ever lived, Gamzee should likely be superior to most other purples, who actively use their powers to instill constant fear and nightmares in the all the lower castes of the troll species.

Of course, this isn't a hard set rule. Just a general guideline. A lower blood could, with an exceptional amount of training, still overpower and control Gamzee’s mind, like what Aranea did. This is more a mark in Aranea’s favor as something impressive for her than it is the other way around.

But all that is still secondary to Gamzee’s most dangerous power. He just. Won't. Die. Shot to ribbons. Chainsawed in half. Melted in lava. None of it sticks. Even the author of the story himself, in his in-universe avatar, confessed there is no timeline in which Gamzee dies. Period. Nothing in Paradox Space, in the entire multiverse, can kill this fucker. The plot will not allow it and no amount of manipulating the plot, be it from Andrew Hussie or Lord English himself, can override it.

This is especially impressive when you consider that the Plot transcends the Outer Ring, which in turn transcends the infinite multiverse of Homestuck, meaning Gamzee’s immortality comes from a six dimensional source.

Even without that life hack, he'd be a tough bastard to put down regardless. As a purple blood, he can heal from some ridiculous shit, including getting completely riddled with holes and his long life span would have him live for hundreds of years regardless.

Despite all of that bullshit though, Gamzee’s still a lot smarter than he's given credit for. He knew full well he couldn't beat Equius in a straight fight, so he cheated, using his mind powers to make him unwilling to fight so that Gamzee could just strangle him. He's also suprisingly charismatic when he wants to be, as he can easily convince plenty of Derse's agents and imps to simply stop attacking him, befriending people who were supposed to be hard wired to kill him.

If there is any clown that'll give you nightmares, it'll be this one. If he's feeling sadistic, then maybe even literally.

Analysis: Darth Vader

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away there lived a chosen one. A being so powerful in the Force that he was destined to become the most powerful Jedi who ever lived, restoring balance to the Force.

Unfortunately for the Jedi, that's not how it played out.

Anakin Skywalker was born as a slave to a virgin mother on the desert planet of Tatooine before being taken in by the Jedi Master Qui Gon Jinn. Unfortunately, Qui Gon was murdered before Anakin could be made his apprentice, so the Jedi Council made Anakin Obi-Wan's apprentice in order to abide by his last wishes.

During his time with the Jedi, Anakin suffered numerous tragedies that would cause him to lose his faith in the Jedi Order, from the loss of his mother, to numerous betrayals from closely trusted friends during the Clone Wars. This lead to him turning to the Dark Side in a desperate bid to save his wife, massacering the Jedi Order during Order 66. Ultimately, Anakin was defeated by Obi-Wan and left to die on the lava planet of Mustafar, losing all of his limbs and most of his skin in the process.

Surviving only through shere rage, Anakin was put into a prosthetic suit, complete with mechanical limbs and lungs to keep him alive. Anakin Skywalker died that day, and Darth Vader was born as one of the most powerful Sith Lords the galaxy had ever seen.

Darth Vader came from the Rule of Two, an order instituted by Darth Bane to make the Sith far stronger than they ever were before. A Master would take an Apprentice and gradually teach them everything they knew. The Apprentice would then kill the Master and take an apprentice of their own. Each loop of the cycle would make the Sith stronger, concentrating the full power of the Dark Side in two individuals to completely eclipse all but the strongest Sith in history. This would make Vader stronger than 90% of all the Sith who've ever live. As a result, Vader should be much stronger than Darth Nihilus, who could devour the life force of entire planets.

According to George Lucas himself, Darth Vader is roughly 80% as strong as Darth Sidious during Return of the Jedi. The same Sidious who, decades early, killed his master and permanently altered the balance of the Force, causing stars to tremor, constellations to move out of their orbits, and the entire galaxy to quake. The sheer raw power needed to generate this feat would be roughly equivalent to 1,099,000,000 Foe.

Source:

Now that we've established where Vader's raw power lies, what can he do with it? Firstly, Vader is a master of telekinesis, in both power and application. He's percise enough with it to target specific organs, such as the heart or lungs, and powerful enough to match the grip of Galen Marek, who could pull Star Destroyers out of the atmosphere. He's even creative enough with his telekinesis to channel the lightning from a nearby storm into his lightsaber, allowing him to throw it without injuring himself. Hell, most Jedi are outright trained to be able to manipulate the molecules of objects with their telekinesis, though this process takes so much concentration that you'll never see it used in combat.

Vader is in fact proficient in the all the standard Jedi techniques, such as the Mind Trick and precognition. As a matter of fact, Vader's precognition is so advanced he can use it mid combat, such as when he caught lasers that were explicitly stated to be moving at light speed with his telekinesis.

Vader is also proficient with Tutaminis, a technique that allows him to catch, deflect, and absorb energy projectiles with his bear hands. His use of Force Stun allows him to paralyze opponents who aren't too much stronger than him, and his connection to the Dark Side allows him to feed on the negative emotions of both himself and others to bolster his power. Darth Vader's battlemind technique allows him to boost the stats, morale, and concentration of everyone under his command. His connection to the Force allows him to see how powerful his opponent is and Force Scream allows him to obliterate entire buildings just by screaming.

This is made all the worse when you realize that Vader can do all these things with a gesture or even just a thought. While Vader prefers to gesture while fighting, he doesn't have to. There are several occasions where he's shown he can harness his powers just by thinking about it or even sometimes just by getting angry enough for it to happen passively.

Even without his powers, Vader is one of the greatest lightsaber duelists to ever live. Having fought on the front lines of two galactic wars, Vader has defeated some of the greatest martial artists in history. As Anakin, he's defeated Count Dooku, the reigning grandmaster of the Makashi lightsaber form and as Vader he defeated Obi Wan Kenobi, the all time master of Soresu. As Anakin, he was straight up the third or fourth greatest fighter in the galaxy and he's only gotten better sense then. Not to mention he's wielding a weapon that can cut through nearly anything through sheer heat.

However, Vader does have a few big weaknesses. For one thing, he's never going to be as powerful as he could've been. The amount of flesh he's lost means he's never going to get any stronger than he is by Return of the Jedi. Hell, prior to A New Hope, he was actually far weaker than Anakin. It took him years of training and recovery to reach his peak again and surpass his former Jedi self.

Secondly, lightning can short out his suit and suffocate him. This... isn't as big a weakness as it's made out to be. Galen Marek, someone who has beaten Vader twice, was blasting him with lightning for several minutes while both amplified by rage and absorbing lightning from a nearby storm. All it did was incapacitate Vader. The only reason Palpatine's lightning killed him in seconds was because he was simply that damn strong.

Darth Vader is one of the most terrifying villains to ever step onto the big screen. A walking instrument of Death whose mere breathing gives nightmares, Vader is easily the most dreaded Jedi killer in Galactic History.

Throwdown Theme:

Throwdown Breakdown:

Alright, let's break this down.

The sheer scope of both character's telepathic abilities means that their mind hax stuff largely cancels out. While neither are flat out immune to mind control, the only people who could possibly pierce their resistances are the strongest telepaths in their respective franchises. Both characters can effect the mind of entire civilizations and resist control just as vast. In Gamzee’s corner, we have being inherently capable of withstanding Gl'bgolyb's voice for longer than most of his species, while Vader can stare into the higher dimensional realm of Hyperspace without being driven mad, which are better resistance feats than their opponents can reliably overpower in most circumstances.

Similarly, both have a plethora of experience taking part in brutal wars, but there is a definitive edge to be drawn here. Gamzee largely relied on talking his way out of fights during SBURB and in fights after it, usually relies on flying into a berserker rage and pummeling his opponent into submission. He's definitely capable of pulling clever tricks in a fight, like leveraging his mind powers pre-emptively against Equius or emotionally manipulating Terezi to leave her open to a pummeling, neither of these tricks would work on Vader and both relied on prior knowledge of his opponent. Vader, meanwhile, has fought on the front lines of two galactic wars, defeated some of the greatest fighters of both his eras, and is more than capable of using clever, subversive strategies on the fly, like attacking Luke with telekinesis and his blade simultaneously. Skill edge Vader.

But, that's where it all starts to swing the other way. Gamzee is rougly 8x stronger than the Palpatine feat, which Vader pretty definitively scales backwards from. This means, that a lot of Vader's non-lethal options for bringing Gamzee down, like force choking him unconscious, simply won't work due to the immense difference in power. For reference, the energy of a point blank shotgun blast is only about 7x stronger than the average human punch. Both are in the same tier but... solar system buster is a big tier.

This is especially problematic when non-lethal options are all Vader has to end the fight with. If getting sucked into a black hole can't kill Gamzee, then nothing Vader has can do it either. This leaves Vader with the option of dicing Gamzee up with his lightsaber and leaving him as an incapacitated pile of disassembled limbs on the floor, unable to fight back due to the slowness of his healing factor and Vader's resistances to his mental manipulation as Vader just... dumps his desecrated body in a hole somewhere. The issue there is that it'll take Vader a lot of hefty swings to cut through someone that durable, while any hit from Gamzee is going to be devastating.

Lightsabers are able to cut through people due to their sheer intense heat, with the plasma they're made of burning at about 14,500° Fahrenheit. But Gamzee could survive burning how atmospheric re-entry at about 5,000° Fahrenheit as a freshly hatched grub. Given that he's likely gotten a lot more durable as he's gotten older, from both the process of the Echeladder's leveling system and... you know.... aging, it's not impossible to believe he could somewhat take the hits, furthering the issue the strength gap presents.

When the fight begins, Gamzee would charge in, get partway bisected from a lightsaber swing, and hit Vader over the head with a blow that, best case scenario, shatters his helmet open and gives him a concussion. Following that, Vader would stagger Gamzee back and attempt to whittle him down to close the strength gap. Telekinetic objects thrown from every direction to keep the rampaging Bard distracted while working in lightsaber throws and force crushes applied to vital organs.

Give the Dark Lord his credit. Despite the myriad of disadvantages working against him, Vader does not get steamrolled. His superior skill, battlefield intelligence, and sheer versatility give him a very real chance of winning, wearing Gamzee down until he's helpless to defend himself from getting slice clean in half with several meaty swings. The issue that keeps this from being the most likely outcome is Vader's tactics making Gamzee angrier and making the gap that much bigger.

While the Dark Side of the Force makes Vader stronger on conjunction with his rage, this is midigated by having to redirect his energies to maintaining his life support system. Every blow Gamzee lands will do devastating damage to Vader's life support, forcing the Dark Lord to focus more of his mounting frustation and power on keeping himself alive and functioning, while Gamzee’s strength keeps increasing with no such restraints. Darth Vader has all the necessary ingredients to defeat Gamzee Makara, even without being able to kill him, but he's just not strong enough to compete with Gamzee’s ever growing frenzy.

Gamzee will certainly be worked over by the time the fight ends, with several internal organs crushed into paste and several limbs missing, but when the Bard starts amping up to his breaking point, the Dark Lord will simply have nothing more to give.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Gamzee Makara!

[thesupreme316]

darius martin x female reader??? the reader helps darius through a panic attack??

You're Okay (Darius Martin x Fem!Reader):

Word Count: 765

Supreme Speaks: hey yall hope yall are okay. thanks to @hooks-martin for the request and per usual sorry for taking so long. the relationship between darius and the reader is completely up to you (platonic or not). lemme also say that if anyone is struggling with anxiety or panic attacks i truly hope everything gets better. plz note that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: trigger warning - depiction of a panic attack, object falling and shattering, prolly not proofread

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @wwenhlimagines @hookerforhook

I think with Darius this would be his first one in a while or like it would be something that is foreign to him

Like his friends have experienced it before, but he hasn’t experienced one first hand

I need everyone to understand that different things can cause panic attacks; it truly depends on the person and their situation (mentality, physically, emotionally, environment, etc.)

And sometimes if you don’t experience something in a while, your body and mind might try to go in autopilot but it doesn’t land correctly (if that makes sense)

I don’t think he’ll know how to react

At first, Darius will think he’ll need air and he’ll step into his room or just away from you (so you don’t see him worry)

But then it goes from 0 to 100 real fucking quick

He’ll start pacing around, fighting back tears, and starts hyperventilating

Eventually, Darius will catch your attention with something hitting the floor

“Darius?” You called out to him from down the hall. You two were watching wrestling before he got up and left to go get something. After no response, you pause the show and started to walk towards his room. “Dude, you good?” You opened his door to find him curled up in a ball, shaking, and with tears down his face. There was a shattered vase next to him. You immediately left to get him some water.

Putting the water down, you guided him over to his bed (carefully avoiding the shattered vase), helping him sit on the edge. He just kept constantly shaking his hands while you whispered words to calm him. Darius opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t say a full sentence with crying and stuttering. “You’re okay, you’re safe.” You repeated, giving him water. He started to take slow sips from the plastic cup. “Do you need me to call someone?” Darius shook his head no as you rubbed his back.

You two just sat in silence with you whispering to Darius how he’s safe and that everything is okay. After he drank enough water and stopped shaking, you instructed him through some breathing exercises; forcing him to take deep breathes. During the silence, you decided to ask, “What happened?”

He sighed and took a deep breath before responding, “While we were watching wrestling, my mind just thought back to my injuries and how I wasn’t able to perform. I felt like a failure. And then my mind went down a rabbit hole of an injury happening again and how I’ll let people down again. I just felt like I was losing control of my life and mind. It felt like something was genuinely happening to my body just then.” He wiped his tears away.

Darius was just cleared to come back to the ring after being out for months regarding another injury. It’s scary trying to make a comeback from an injury, especially when he already had an injury the year prior. So it broke your heart to hear that he’s feeling this way. “Darius, you could never be a failure, especially to me. You are a very talented individual. Things happen in life that produces setbacks, but don’t ever feel like you are failure. You’re okay, you are killing the business right now. I’m so proud of you.” You paused before asking, “Was that your first panic attack?”

“Yeah, that felt so scary.”

“They can be, they really come out of nowhere. But if you want, we can try to find remedies and techniques to combat them so you’re not feeling so overwhelmed.”

Darius nodded his head, “So what do we do now?”

“You drink more water and we can either talk about your feelings more or we can distract you with other things. It’s up to you.”

“The second option.” He said before giving you a hug, “Thanks so much for being here with me.”

Embracing him back, you said, “That’s what I’m suppose to do.” You slowly backed away and got up. You stepped around the pieces of the vase. “I’m gonna get a broom to sweep this up.”

“Sorry about that.” He said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. It was an ugly vase anyways.” You joked.

“Hey!” Darius exclaimed.

“You know it’s true!” You said before leaving the room to get a broom.

Darius looked down at the vase and quietly said, “Yeah, it was.”

But something that isn’t ugly is the friendship (or relationship) that you two have.

And unlike that vase,

the bond between you two will never break.

[semi-sketchy]

I did it. I'm done with the Final Horizon.

The side stories...alright did anyone else run into issues where voice lines would randomly not play or was that just me? I had to keep reloading saves because it would glitch and be dead silent for like 10 seconds until the next audio file came up.

I heard lots of people didn't really like the writing in this update, but it really was just more of the same from Frontiers. Nothing scenes with poor character voice. Yeah, there were bad lines, but base game had those, too. The cyber corruption Sonic's friends go through is also just as meaningless here as it was in base game.

The biggest part I didn't like was how much this felt like an afterthought, which is because it WAS an afterthought. I didn't think the base ending was spectacular, but it also felt more in line with how the rest of the story was built.

Here, the first cutscene literally just tries to undo the Rhea island scene and everything is so tacked on. Sonic's friends face cyber corruption from interacting with cyberspace? But they're also TRAPPED in cyberspace, so why is this any different to what they've been doing? Weren't they technically helping Sonic get the Emeralds on the other islands, hence getting Emerald rewards for quests?

It's just a lot of fluff masking this basic "earn the respect of the Ancient's pilots to get a new super form that can deal with The End" and...alright. I've never been concerned over power scaling. You don't NEED to go bigger and better every time, all you have to do is make me care about the stakes and you have a good narrative. That final battle made regular Super Sonic look like a pussy so Hyper Sonic Super Sonic 2 could look so much more powerful. And I know why. This is the exact thing Ian Flynn said he wanted, only he skirted around the no Hyper decision by just changing Sonic's eye color.

But really, you have invincible Super Sonic here, WINCING and getting his hands YANKED AROUND by the cyber energy.

TWO ISLANDS AGO he was swinging a giant sword.

But now, he can't even DENT the boss without this power up. This either makes Super Sonic look weak or this stupidly easy titan tied to a rock mightier than a god.

The Sonic X reference though wasn't lost on me and I admit, I thought it was cool. Even if Super Sonic with blue eyes is a bit uncanny.

The fight itself though is...not very well choreographed. I lost my first attempt and still kinda fumbled around because I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Seriously, when was quick cyloop EVER useful in one of these fights? And now I'm required to do it twice with the penalty of failing being forced to redo the Supreme fight AGAIN?

This is a case where Sonic's friends would've been helpful. I know, I know, I got sick of "THAT LOOKS LIKE A HOMING SHOT" very quickly, but a little thing like "Sever that connection!" or "It's down! Get the gun!" would've helped.

Though, I liked the fight alright and it certainly had the spectacle Supreme lacked.

New music was good, though! The vocal theme for I'm With You is 10x better than Dear Father and I LOVED the I'm Here remix.

Overall, I'm...conflicted. I don't think I liked the update? Really I'm trying to recall having fun with it at any point. There were a few cool moments, the Cyclone having that fuck u laser from SA2 was definitely one, but there wasn't a high point, it was just baseline and lower.

It really upset me at a few points and I couldn't even get performatively angry, it broke me and I was just sad, though I kept going. I think I've grown numb to the bullshit. Really, this was just more of Frontiers with some added jank and difficulty.

The worst parts were challenges 2 and 5. Aside from that, there's not really difficulty as much as bullshit and cheap design. Even my brother came in and asked why they stuck this platform you have to glide to at an angle that causes you to slide off. I rage quit 4-H because they ask you to do PRECISE platforming on tiny angled boxes. With physics that make that near impossible. That's bullshit design and not a difficulty issue.

Also, who thought the rescuing animal objectives were a good idea? ESPECIALLY IN 4-H. There's a glitch where when Sonic gets the animal to safety, he stays stuck in carrying mode which means low jump, no boost, double jump, homing attack, you're basically dead in the water. It goes away at certain points, so maybe this was intentional, but also, seriously?

This was a FREE CONTENT UPDATE that they announced a month before it got pushed out, so why was it rushed so badly that the physics sliders don't even work properly for the extra characters?

At the end of the day though, replaying base Frontiers right before this and running into the EXACT same problems made me realize that it's just more of the same. Base Frontiers has some big faults and pretty BS design, it's just dialed up to 11 here.

I don't want to play Frontiers again, much less this update.

[heyifinallyhaveablog]

Okay, super late post, on this tag by @vanderwoodlings . Sorry my love, I was visiting my family back in my hometown, and well, between my maternal home and my 'actual' marital home, I had my hands, and my brain super full.

So this is kind of an OC idea that I had off the top of my head. Note that this is just an idea that I have for a story, which isn't for a fandom per se. Kind of smutty (reminds me of the times I managed to write smut).

Also tagging: @chaanv , @vidhurvrika and @bleedinknight for sharing their WIPs.

'Ouch!' she giggled, wriggling in his arms, as he began kissing her neck, all the while holding her tightly to himself in that lone corner, amidst the wedding festivities.

She kept chortling uncontrollably as he continued flooding her with kisses, tightening his arms around her with every breath he took. Between his endless ground reports and fighting with the current administration, he had absolutely no time with his beloved, in what seemed like an eternity.

He stopped, all of a sudden.

'Ruku' he breathed, pressing himself hard against her.

'Let's get the fuck out of here.' he whispered.

He vigourously tugged at her hand.

'Not like this,' she resisted.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!, his heart leapt.

This certainly was getting better. Heaven knew, how he loved those little games she had a penchant for throwing in, everytime they got hot and heavy. It kept the tension going, elevated the stakes, and, oh! -

There was no telling what it did to the pleasure it brought them later when they -

'You want to let them know, don't you?'

They ran into the garden, still buzzing with a sizeable portion of the city's elite.

'Your father shall have my head for this,' he huffed.

She pressed herself closer to him, daring him to take the bait. Whatever their parents could do, would have to wait until, next afternoon, in the very least.

Or maybe the day after.

Sameer gladly obliged. There were a few shrieks here and there from the older people when they saw a pink-lehenga clad female being voraciously ravaged in the callous arms of the groom's best friend, in a tuxedo. A few younger people cheered when he threw his suit on the supremely primed, and mowed lawn.

The kisses and the heavy breathing continued as the guests watched them upping the ante. It was only when the strings of her blouse came loose, that she stopped him.

'Now!' her eyes twinkled as she heard the bouncers.

He swiftly lifted her off the ground, and broke into a run. He had outrun tens of reporters, while fighting off armed security personnel for his award winning ground reports, hence, this was pure cakewalk for him.

The winning smile on her lips told him that their night had just begun.

[ufonaut]

1 & 18 jsa, 10 gl (any), 15 johnny q >:)

YIPPEE

Favorite character from [IF]

ALAN SCOTT OF COURSE i love almost the entire jsa with very very few exceptions but alan's my all time all time character no matter what

18. Brotp from [IF]

one of the best things about the jsa is that a lot of completely deranged friendship combinations just work and make for some extremely entertaining reading so i think you can get away with pairing off anybody with just about anybody and it'll be hilarious but. if i really had to choose. i think i'll go with rex tyler & charles mcnider based on their canon dynamic alone (doctor trying to stop patient from killing himself, patient mistaking that for friendship etc)

10. What are your head cannons about [Character, IF, etc]?

kyle rayner is autistic and probably has been diagnosed since he was a kid (given that one mention of special ed classes and such). uhhhh. hal was forty-six when he died in 1996 and by god he returned that age. both of hal's brothers are alive and they've probably suspected he's gay ever since he started his drifting at the age of twenty something (results pending). hal fucked up his knee something awful in the coast city fight with mongul and that's also something he came back with. kyle and jennie are permanently on & off dating (but mostly on). alan has an entire room in his penthouse dedicated to his model train collection. okay i think that's the extent of my gl-related hcs

NO WAIT

hal's only possible happy ending is still being supremely broke but living in a hangar with his plane like maverick in the new top gun. nothing military related though, just his air taxi business from the 1990 run. THAT'S IT

15. What are your sexuality head canons for [character]?

johnny quick is bi but never found himself especially interested in any women before libby came along (which is practically true! women are nonexistent in his 1940s stories!). his sexuality isn't something he's particularly hung up on because life's often light and breezy to johnny but i think if he's dated, when he's dated, it's almost always been something of a status symbol to him more than actual interest in the person he's with, especially after the divorce and his terrible sleazy businessman era (see: jsa 1992's "i'm dating a woman half my age!"). he probably used to be a pretty frequent visitor of new york's old timey gay bars back in the day but obviously between libby and then having to raise jesse all by his lonesome, romance and/or one night stands weren't on the agenda for a long long time

[norcalbruja]

On liminality, and the stuff Tony Stark says

Anyway, Tony seems to give me very Classic Comic Book vibes despite physically looking like Robert Downey Jr. This one time he said something like "Look honey, we're not really 'people' anymore, but we also can't be gods. We are what people WANT TO BE, and that is a very finicky place in the spirit-world."

Sometimes Tony just confirms my suspicions that "Superheroes are modern mythology."

...And then he says shit like "Come onnnnn, just ask me for help! Pleassssse!!!! I'm fucking rich, there are a LOT of ways I can help a broke writer!"

--

It seems you need a certain level of "standing" to be a LIKELY pop-culture spirit. The more prominent a work is in society, the more likely the characters start "answering calls." Ie, Marvel and DC.

There are HUNDREDS of media works out there and it seems spirits need enough "focus" to become egregores/embodied/"full spirits." I don't see anyone (admitting to???) meeting the Fullmetal Alchemist characters, but I HAVE seen at least one person who believes that they accidentally met Magneto.

Like, they did a semi-joking "summoning" ritual for the X-Men and they did not expect to MEET SOMEONE.

If that isn't the start to a horror movie, I don't know what is.

But given my current works dealing with colonization myself, if I met Magneto IN THE VERY FAR FUTURE, WITH NO SIGNIFICANT METAL AROUND, I would absolutely tell him that he has some great points.

And maybe it's not only "how prominent" a story is in general, but the nature of the story itself? Maybe the superheroes are more likely to get embodied not only because they're popular, but because their whole genre involves "helping people," so folks are more likely to "invoke" them. Meanwhile FMA is ultimately a war-story/series and like... nobody's "calling on" Roy Mustang.

--

Speaking of the Avengers, the rest of them showed up last night in the meditation. The moment Other-Thor came, I just lost it, hugged him, and started crying. Not sure if I was happy or sad, it was probably both.

The doofus just smiled and went "Well, this is a lovely welcome!"

Cap was laughing and went, "She didn't even cry when I came here the first time!"

Thor and Loki are going to be VERY important characters in the modern side of my Marvel fanfic, so maybe that's why I reacted like I did.

Or maybe it's because Movie-Thor has a recovering-from-depression arc?

Honestly, Thor is my PERSONAL favorite Avenger and I never could figure out why. Maybe because he and Cap are just NICE?

--

This one time I was YET AGAIN trying to sleep, so Tony rolled up with some spiritual-whiskey and gave me some shots. It didn't work, so when Spirit-Me wandered back to the Water-Spirit just completely shitfaced and crying, Hera got mad when she saw us and she yelled, "TONY! WHAT. DID. YOU. DO??? SHE'S A MESS!!!"

And Tony was like "She can't sleep. I gave her some shots, but she is WIRED, man."

So she ordered him to get out so I could sober up, but Tony just snapped at her, "Hera, I am not a god and I'm sure as hell not Greek! You have no power over me!"

And yeah, she couldn't actually make him LEAVE, unless she wanted to start a fight with a very drunk and squishy bard in the room, so she just settled for chaperoning me for a while.

--

If I had to lock down the superheroes as anything "properly spiritual," they feel a lot like intermediaries/intercessors. So many of them are human-turned-something-else, and their ties to humanity are a constant theme, plus there's a thin line between "invoking a spirit ON BEHALF OF a god" and "invoking someone AS AN ACTUAL GOD."

The Tagalog pantheon supposedly said that most gods were "agents of the supreme deity Bathala," but they all ended up being treated as deities by the time the Spanish came along, so I wonder if a similar confusion between "really powerful intermediaries" and "deities" are happening with the likes of Marvel and DC.

[gaykarstaagforever]

I had never even heard of The Fronde before, because I went to American public school, so my European History final was just correctly identifying France on the wall map by hitting it with a football (I got a B- because I successfully hit France, but my spiral was TERRIBLE).

Anyway, I've been researching it, as in, I read most of the Wikipedia article about it.

Assuming any of that is correct, this is what I've learned so far:

What they call "The Fronde" was two different but related civil wars, fought while France was also fighting at least two other wars. And they only temporarily paused those to deal with it. Sort of.

"Fronde" means sling, because mobs in 1650s France would sling rocks when they got mad.

The actual king (Louis XIV) was a child when this happened, but the civil war was both the aristocracy and the common (middle class) people absolutely hating his mother and the other guy who was running everything until he came of age. And the two of them were asking for it by being total dicks to everyone all the time. And they kept getting imprisoned and exiled, but no one ever killed them, so they held out and eventually won. Which resulted in Louis XIV becoming a dictator for the next 70 years. So good job, guys.

Not that the aristocrats and common people weren't also being dicks. Everyone was being a dick, all the time. The question was, who got to be the Supreme Dick.

I don't even understand how France at this point was a functioning country. The government was a bunch of different departments that sort of did whatever they wanted. Taxes were collected by "tax-farmers," who got to bid on what percentage of the taxes they got to keep for themselves. The Crown only got around 10% of the money, so they kept creating new taxes, and that is what made everyone mad. Meanwhile the tax collectors were building palaces with the money. The aristocracy owned like 90% of the land, but didn't pay any taxes, and when the Crown suggested changing that they formed private armies. Regions of the country were run by unelected hereditary parliaments that passed and enforced whatever laws they wanted, while major towns had their own mayors and councils that also did the same thing. Even the military was run by hereditary generals who ran their units as literal private armies, that often refused to coordinate with any of the others. The Crown would apparently just aim them at another country and say, "Do whatever over there until we say stop." One of these wars went on for like 80 years, through multiple generations of this nonsense. And the only reasons the wars ever stopped were if the king married into the family of the opposing monarch, or if they just completely ran out of money. ...Oh and sometimes the marriage thing only stopped the war for like 2 years, then they'd go right back to it.

The people calling the shots in France during the king's minority were constantly teaming up and then backstabbing each-other. But again, no one ever killed anyone, so everyone kept coming back to try it again. I don't know what the hell that is. But everyone else equally hated all of these idiots.

Also, everyone could agree that Fuck Protestants. That was like the one unifier, for some reason. But then when the Pope told them to do things as Catholics, half the time the told him to fuck himself. Which is like...do you guys even understand how...?

There was some weird thing where a mob broke into the palace where the king and his mother were holed-up and demanded to watch him sleep, I guess to prove he wasn't dead, because they thought his mother was up to something...? But they also hated the king himself, the literal child. When he was ten he made some speech and messed it up and they ragged on him mercilessly for it. Because all of these people were dicks.

Louis XIV was king until 1715, at which point France was still in a perpetual state of war and never having any money. And this was AFTER his reforms to fix the tax-farming and independent military things. I guess it isn't hard to understand why the First Revolution went the way it did, 70-whatever years after that. Which started France's notorious constant re-revolutioning thing, only briefly broken up by Napoleon coming out of nowhere and conquering most of Europe that one time. ...Oh and also Germany finally became a country and decided to treat France the way France had treated them over the previous 300 years (i.e., blowing their shit absolutely all the way up. Repeatedly).

[futureplayboibunnie]

‘Wandering’

Dr Strange x inexperienced! fem! reader

THIS ONE IS SOO SHORT SORRY

smut so minors fuck off x

The night was vastly daunting. The flickers of shattered starlight were doing nothing to absolve you of your thoughts as you wandered around Sanctum trying to chase peace or maybe just even waiting for someone to find you- but it was almost nearing 2am. No one was around.

Padding away barefoot aimlessly, you couldn't find it in yourself to be bothered by the fact you were wearing an oversized suit shirt that hugged all the right places. If someone were to find you like this your embarrassment would reach deplorable levels. Your interest and curiosity piqued when your eyes were fixated on the room in which no one was allowed to enter except for God's true mystical disciple- Strange. You were bordering on delirious and it was all because of this stupid sleepless night. It was a winless fight.

But you were a good girl. You never broke the rules. Stephen's rules.

Though your curiosity remained fixed, maybe tonight was the night where you broke the rules, and in the process, your moral compass. Carrying yourself through the arches of the doorless room, your fingers grazed over the timeless relics and impossibly ancient spellbooks. You cocked your head however when you saw the clear glass casing.

It was holding leather handcuffs held on a red velvet cushion, it was padlocked. You wondered why this was kept here. Was it for Stephen specifically? How was this forbidden in any way? Did Stephen hold the key?

Your mind was pacing.

‘’What are you doing?'’A voice behind you startled you wide awake from your dream like trance. It took you a moment to register what was happening and who was even talking to you. You were wincing at the ass whooping you were about to recieve for being in such a forbidden and sacred area. Your heart was thrumming in anticipation. You spun yourself around and you stunned at the sight of Stephen with a bare chest and crossed arms. Grey sweatpants outlining a slight bulge softly.

‘’Uh...I'm not meant to be in here.’’ You stumbled on your words like a jittering fool, eyes wide in sheer terror.

You attempted to dash right past him and out of the room but he halted you in your tracks by grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in front of before ultimately letting you go. You let out slight gasp that Stephen wasn't expecting as you felt yourself shiver under his brief and fleeting touch.

‘’Hey hey where do you think you're going?’’He questioned in a sweet and soft manner, you felt your eyebrow raise at such a confusingly kind tone. Stephen's powder blue eyes searched yours for an answer but all he found was a shellshocked deer in blinding white headlights.

‘’I was just wandering. I couldn't sleep.’’You rasped as you hung your head up to look him in his picturesque face. In this light he looked so effortlessly attractive, all rugged features and tight creased eyes. Hair messy as his grey streaks shone in the dim atmospheric ambience. You stole a moment to just remark at him; to be crude, he was fucking hot as shit. All authoritarian and an attitude worth drooling over; the way he was looking at you made you feel weak and you'd do anything to feel his skin and weight on top of yours but there was an...issue.

You were...inexperienced to say the least.

The only kiss you've ever experienced was a drunken peck that you couldn't really remember. Sex was off the table and not even worth talking about.

Your nerves were becoming heavily apparent now.

‘’Why are you all… nervous?’’ Stephen smirked slightly, trying to keep his thoughts at bay.

‘’Sorcerer Supreme finding an apprentice in the forbidden section? Do I really need to explain it to you?’’ You chuckled dryly in an attempt to win him over.

Seeing you in just a dress shirt made him think thoughts that best be left unsaid. You were as cute as a dud, so pretty. So fucking pretty. Full lips, bright gleaming challenging eyes, blushed apples- his stare couldn't help but linger on you while you were practicing your spell casting. A relationship was never on the cards for a guy like him and he assumed that you of all people wouldn't be interested in him. Always off in your own little world. Stephen's stare lingered on your bare legs and he noticed that the sheerness of your shirt didn't hide the view of your thin panties. His tolerance was declining. Maybe it was because it was nightfall, maybe it was because you were alone, maybe it was because you were barely wearing anything. Either way, he wanted you.

‘’How'd you know I was here?’’ You snapped him out of his mindless daydreaming.

‘’Maybe I was wandering too.’’

Your fingers found hospice on the padlock of the clear casing. You were intruiged by the reason in which the handcuffs were here.

‘’What's this?’’ You smirked playfully, pondering upon grounds that you didn't know how to deal with. Playing with fire.

You twisted your hand on the padlock and broke it while staring at him-biting at your lip.

Stephen could have came right there, you were so nervous yet such a flirt. He didn't understand it. You opened the glass and grabbed at the cuffs to inspect them.

‘’Come on put them back.’’He exhaled as he sauntered towards you.

‘’What's this?’’You smiled at him sweetly. He raised his hands and grabbed the cuffs off of you and only then did you notice how close he was to you.He put them back in its case.

‘’I'll tell you a secret only if you go to bed and stop wandering.’’ He offered and you nodded slightly, giddy at the fact he trusted you enough with a secret. Stephen leaned on the frame as you gawked up at him.

‘’They're supposed to surpress magic. But the women I fuck want me to use it on them.’’ He voice was just an octave above a whisper, you felt the true cadence of his voice make a wash of wetness gush to your panties- the fact that he was staring at your lips made it so much worse and better at the same time. You mouth popped open slightly and you were starting to shake under his sex dripped gaze.

Does he want you? Holy fuck, he does want you.

‘’Would you want to use them on me?’’ You blurted absent mindedly and it made Stephen beam up in surprise.

‘’Would you like that?’’ He asked politely and it made you want him right then and there in the fucking forbidden section. The dialogue alone felt so vulgar to you due to never fully experiencing anything like this before. Your breathing was becoming more and more erratic with every passing moment Stephen was staring at you.

You paused.

‘’I think I would...but I-.’’ You cut yourself off due to the heated blush coating the apples of your cheeks, diverting eye contact due to the imminent embarrassment you were experiencing.

‘’What? What is it baby?’’His thumb lifted up your chin and you quite literally shivered into his touch. The fact he had his hand on you was so intense to you. And baby? Fuck.

‘’I've never-‘’

‘’Mhm?’’

‘’I've never fucked before.’’ You finally spat out as you blinked up at him with those beguiling eyes of yours, all nervous under his gaze.

‘’What?’’

He quite frankly couldn't believe it. No one has ever had you? There's no way that could ever be true. Stephen's mind was racing and he thought he wouldn't ever be able to stop.

‘’I haven't even had my first real kiss before, it's embarrassing.’’ You sighed out, finally melting into him so he'd get the hint to kiss at your lips. He exhaled as he adjusted his hands to cradle your face.

‘’Men must kill each other just to get remotely close to you.’’ He whispered as he brushed his thumb on top of your full lips.

‘’Can you show me how to make love Stephen?’’ You asked softly, staring into the eyes that were already undressing you.

‘’Can I kiss you?’’ He requested as he leaned in, tips of noses touching each other.

‘’Please.’’ You moaned back, you reeked of desperation at this point and he was just revelling in it all- it was all for him to savour and have.

It was feather light, soft, tender. Lips touching lips. You angled your head so you could taste him deeper and he reciprocated your actions almost instantly. He ripped his lips away from yours and intertwined your hands with his and whisked you away to his room. He locked his door and never in thousand years would he have thought you'd be in his room. Your scent filled the space completely.

Stephen gently pushed you onto the bed and in this light you looked even more stunning than ever. Your face was already contorting in pleasure and he'd barely done anything. He smirked at the sentiment.

‘’Been wanting to take this off since I saw you in it. Can I?’’He groaned between kisses and you nodded your head furiously. He unbuttoned your shirt at a slow and torturous pace, teasing you to the point where you were shaking under him.

Stephen's hands wandered around your body, slowly coaxing you out and teasing your flesh. He got rid of the fabric of your shirt and your tits spilled out for him and he was damn near drooling. You were only left in your underwear.

"Touch me Stephen.’’ You breathed out sensually. He shimmied down your underwear and all he could see as he cast his head down was your sloppy wet pussy. You got wet sooo easily and it made him lick his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth before ultimately licking and softly suckling down your neck and the flesh of your tits. Your moans were becoming so loud and it was becoming his own personal brand of heroin. He was becoming so painfully hard and it was all because of you.

‘’Can I go down on you?’’ Stephen breathed into your lower stomach as his darkened gaze flitted to your desperate eyes.

‘’Fuck yes.’’You gasped.

Stephen forced your legs onto his shoulder as he slowly started to kiss your drooling wet pussy. Your back arched off the bed as he started flicking his tongue at your clit- hungrily tasting at you like a kid in a candy store. You tasted divine and he was needy for more. More of everything. He lapped up your arousal a your hands tugged at his hair, he groaned into your skin and it made your insides buzz. It felt incredible and all because he was spoiling you rotten.

‘’You taste so fucking sweet. Sweet all for me.’’

—-

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

To celebrate becoming mutuals and because I know college is kicking your ass, have a headcanon prompt! Warning: it’s a bit angsty

How would the rest of the Hamatos react when Casey Jr tells them they all die in his timeline?

Cheers to being mutuals

For a little backstory this is the order I think they die in: Raph, Donnie, Splinter, April, and then Mikey and Leo

Let's go by age cause that’s how I’ve always done it

Splinter: I think he would try and brush over his death. Internally I feel like he would try to rationalize it and come up with reasons for his death: saving humans or his family. But he would be devastated to find out he outlives two of his kids, like falling to the ground sobbing his little heart out devastated. It still haunts him to this day. It also makes him rethink the path he’s set his kids on. Like don’t get me wrong he knows death is always a possibility on a battlefield. He’s heard tales of his ancestors sacrificing themselves ever since he was small. And honestly, it was easy to separate himself from those deaths and become desensitized his mindset was something along the lines of “I never knew them so why should I care if they died”. But when he heard how his kids died and how similar the stories were it kind of gives him an existential crisis. Cause he put them on this path he raised them to be great warriors and he can't stop them no matter what and that kills him.

April: I feel like she would take some pride in knowing that her last few moments were spent protecting humanity and fighting the good fight. But she would feel guilt in outliving both Raph and Donnie (outliving Splinter is kind of a given). And she would definitely blame herself because in her mind their death only means one thing she failed. And she would definitely hug the boys a little tighter for a month or so after she heard the news.

Raph: Externally he would try and calm his siblings down he would say something like “well thank the pizza supreme in the sky that we don't live in that future”. But internally he would be freaking out. He’s very similar to Splinter in the sense that he’d brush over his death (or he would try to at least) and focus on his siblings. I think it would crush him when he found out how they died. But he swears to this day the thing that really broke his heart was hearing how his baby brothers and his big sister had to fight nonstop every single day for the rest of their lives. And he hates that a small part of him is proud of that. 

Donnie: Knew already. He heard how Casey referred to him in the past tense. But he also knew confronting Casey when they were trying to save Raph was irrational. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t knock the wind out of him. Donnie has the worst reaction to death (Leo is a close second) in the sense that he shuts down. When Casey explained everything Donnie heard it processed it wrote down blueprints for robots that he could transfer his sibling's into when they die and then he would “go offline”.

(for context this is something I do when my family presents me with information that's hard to swallow. I’ll hear it, I’ll process it and my brain decides “oh you can come up with a plan to deal with that later but after that, you’ll resort to basic human functions” I will eat and drink and breathe but that's about it. My mama came up with the term “going offline” when I explained it to her and that sums up the feeling perfectly)

Mikey: Would be crushed. Absolutely devastated. Poor bubba wouldn't know what to do with himself. Cause here's the thing Mikey isn’t stupid he knows that he's related to a group of self-sacrificing morons. But having to hear how they died out loud. Breaks something inside of him. Because he doesn’t know how to fix that. He has all the mystic power in the world but he can't snap his fingers and wrap his family in lifesaving bubble wrap for all eternity. And that fucking sucks. So he does the only thing he can think of which is using his “baby brother privilege” to demand an immediate turtle pile. Cause he knows his siblings need it (and he does too). 

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

[dylfpickles]

Okay so, I watched MoM today and I have things to say-

The intro scene>>>> I got so sad when I figured out he was going to Christine's wedding:( the fucking guy he used to work with made me fucking giggle, Christine looked beautiful and when she asked if he was happy, I swear my heart broke. The octopus low-key scared the shit out of me, but we don't talk about that. America stealing Strange's sling ring sent me lmao. Also Spider-Man mention ayeee, I love America asked if he shot webs out of his ass and Strange didn't know lmao.

When he went to look for Wanda, I got so excited, and I loved their convo. Then she mentioned America's name and my heart dropped. From the trailers, I'd assumed she would be a protag, but I love the twist!!

When the WandaVision theme played, I lost it, and the poor girl:( give her back her children or I'll riot. Not justifying her actions, just saying I get her to an extent.

America's backstory is so depressing, also lesbians in the MCU, I repeat lesbians in the MCU!!

Wanda straight up killing everyone in Kamar-Taj was brutal, and I loved it, sue me

I low-key thought Wong died and nearly cried-

When she said "What mouth?", yo, my heart did somersaults and when she shredded Mister Fantastic, i was on the edge of my seat, like about to fall off- AND WHEN SHE CUT MISS CARTER IN HALF?!? QUEEN SHIT/J feel bad for cap marvel though

Mordo and Strange fighting were funny to me lol

The fight between Strange Supreme(?) and Strange was so fucking cool. Loved the visuals and the audio and the aghhhh/pos I'm an orchestra kid, in case you couldn't tell-

Wanda was so fucking terrifying. I loved it. It felt like I was watching a horror film, not a superhero movie 😭When she began limp-running towards them, I think I actually held my breath.

Love how all the Stranges are all bitchless

Tommy and Billy getting scared of Wanda and Wanda realising her atrocities was so....touching? Not the word, but I liked that scene.

She's not dead. Ain't nooo wayyy.

OMG, America training at Kamar-Taj?! Yes please

The post-credits scene:0. I'm not sure what happened there but my heart jumped lmao.

Lmao, poor guy, at least it stopped.

So in conclusion, that was fucking amazing. Sam Raimi, you've done it again. I felt like I was watching a full-on horror film. Normalise making Marvel movies fucking terrifying !