#i got back to the rock disease (in which you get back to the rock) (i. i've been watching the reboot. augh)

[crispycreambacon]

I'd love to see some philo and gunge, they're my fave little guys!! :3

☆ They've turned into televsion stars! ☆

Fun fact that inspired this doodle: the puppet for Gunge (the gray rat) was reused in an episode of Dinosaurs, The Howling, where he narrowly avoided getting eaten by Roy Hess! Philo (the pink rat) was also reused in Mopatop’s Shop as Magic Teeny and Mabel.

I’m sure Philo and Gunge would be over the moon to appear on TV though perhaps Marjory would be a little less than thrilled 😅

[raeathnos]

.

[trashmouth-richie]

ad caelum vel ad inferos, tecum sum to heaven or hell, i am with you

the final part [4.6k] geta x reader summary: death, smut, GORE

🥀dulcis ut rosa 🥀dulex 🥀vitiosis + deliciosus 🥀frangere me

s/o to my beta @rxqueenotd , and anyone else i’ve screamed at with over this fic 🤎

Blue skies could never compare to the icy hatred that filled Caracalla’s eyes as he stood above you, flanked by soldiers on either shoulder. “Perhaps the dungeon will help you remember which Emperor you are to be serving? Hm?” 

Blood trickled down your hairline, collecting in a slow drop from your chin onto the dirty floor. The cell was barely wide enough to lay down in. A piss pot stood full in one corner, its odor still more pleasant than the sickly aroma of Caracalla’s breath when he found you waiting for Geta. 

You had been startled seeing him instead of the man you had spent the last many nights crying for. Trying to run you were hit hard and the rest was gone until you woke up here. 

A swift kick to your legs and chest, had you doubling over, the pain boiling hot in your veins. 

“How incompetent do you think I am?” Caracalla spit. “My brother doesn’t move throughout these walls without me knowing. Months! He’s been fucking your mouth raw, spilling his seed down your throat after nights spent in luxury with me!” A giggle bullies out from his lungs, “did you think I hadn’t a clue? An inkling as to why his chamber stood empty at the same moment that you left mine?” 

You haven’t said a word and you refused to, he didn’t deserve an explanation. 

A tear slips down his rouge painted face, “I confided in you, we were soulmates you and I. Geta is nothing! He feels nothing!” 

You shook your head, unable to accept his words. “How did you do it, magae. How did you bewitch my brother to fall for your wickedness?” 

Raising your chin in spiteful defiance, you glared into his disgusting putrid eyes, “You pathetic, sniveling swine— I am no such witch, but I can not wait to witness the carnage Geta will bestow upon you.” 

Caracalla giggles in a high pitched tone, “oh my dear, he will be long dead before that shall ever happen,” he looks around at the moldy holed dungeon, “maybe you can charm the rats while you’re rotting away waiting for your precious Geta.” 

—

Wind and insects scratched at his face as he pushed his horse faster, hooves kicking up sand and rocks in a storm as they raced for Palace Hill. Geta screamed with rage when Acacius told him of your demise, knowing exactly who was behind it. What a fool he was for leaving you unattended. Caracalla must have found out, and maybe he himself was too blind by Cupid’s lust to notice the changes within his own kingdom. 

Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes as he imagined the perils of danger you were now in— because of him.

His reins slapped sharply against the muscled backside of his horse as he pumped every ounce of strength from the mare to get home- to get back to you.

Whatever Caracalla had done, heads would fucking roll once he got back. That was a promise. 

—

How many days had it been? Four? A week? The dark had made you lose count. 

At times you weren’t sure if your eyes were open or closed, the pitch black was endless, curling around you like smoke and suffocating any happiness you had tried to muster. 

The dungeon was crawling with vermin, caked with disease and body fluids from decades before you had been tossed in here like a rabies riddled dog. Food had stopped coming, water was scarce except for the trickle of fresh springs that siddled down the stone wall. At least you told yourself it was a fresh spring that you were consuming, but more than likely it was tainted water that kept you alive. 

You prayed to the Gods that Geta would come for you. That he wasn’t head first into a war that he agreed to when you pushed him away. You were so stupid for doing so, but you couldn’t help the racking sobs when you pictured how hurt he was… and crying harder yet when realizing, that was the last time. 

Days had passed and you could feel your mind slipping from you. Exhaustion, dehydration settling in had you hallucinating images of the Emperor. It was almost comforting the way your mind was protecting itself, throwing you into an alternate reality of laying in his lavish bed instead of the hard shit-soaked stones. 

You could feel his blunt nails tickling your sides, but in truth it was beetles gnawing on your bare skin. Geta kept you warm and safe in your head, even though it was apparent from the lack of food, proper sunlight, and clean water—that you were falling ill. 

—

It hadn’t been that long since Geta had left, but approaching the Hill had his skin crawling. Dismounting his mare, everything seemed odd. 

It was unusually quiet. The air felt sharp against his skin. Smelled of pungent rot, souring his nose. The wind seemed to howl a song he hadn’t recognized— the sickly tune of a kingdom at war with itself. 

His father had trained them both on how to rule with force, how to command an army, to hold rank and battle to the blood flowing end—their enemies head on a stake. 

Caracalla by himself was juvenile when it came to war tactics, knowing the basics of stationing men on watch, high in the walls on the terraces. Two men for each direction, pointing their noses North, East, South and West. A handful of guards on the entrance. 

If this was a war with any other enemy— Geta would have spent a full sun tracking their movements meticulously. But never had his enemies captured something so dear to him. 

Acacius landed from his own horse beside Geta’s kneeled form, knowing his thoughts before he could even act on them. 

“It’s unwise, my lord…” he said carefully, placing a weathered hand on Geta’s shoulder, “we cannot risk the element of surprise when our emotions are clouding our judgment.”  

Geta’s eyes twitched as he stared ahead at the palace, his mind traveling to where you were being kept, knowing in his heart it was in the deepest part of the palace, the south dungeon.

He breathed raggedly through his nose before he spoke between gritted teeth, “I will paint all of Rome with their innards for what they’ve done, and I will not stop until their bodies are drained of all their blood.” 

Acacius shook is head in worry, clearing his throat, “you’re mind is unclear, you should rest before—”

Adrenaline raced through Geta’s veins as he mounted his mare, “I’m going, with or without your help. What good am I to her waiting for calculated time?” 

Acacius threaded a hand through his salty peppered hair, eyeing his emperor— his friend. His voice was riddled with pain when he spoke, “what good are you to her if you’re dead?” 

Geta pondered this, but his reply was simple, and he said the most truthful thing that has ever passed his lips, “I’ll be the man she makes me want to be.” 

—

“Up! Get up!” 

Caracalla had figured once Geta found out that his precious whore was locked away and starved that he  would be on his way to come and rescue you. He waited day and night for his brother’s return. And finally— there was a spec in the distance. His brother returning in all his glory. 

He skipped down to the dungeon— literally skipping and hopping on one foot in glee as he came down to the depths of the palace to retrieve you for the final act.

A hand clasped harshly in your hair, yanking you from a deep sleep, followed by a taunting giggle.

You had grown weak in your time secluded from light and clean air. Unable to stand on your own properly, Caracalla brought you to your feet like you were a doll, the flame he held showed just how manic and possessed he had become. 

He was like a poisoned animal practically foaming from the mouth with insanity. Biting his lip constantly, chewing and gnawing, infesting it with sores. He wore his best robes, bangles jingling as he brought you closer to his face. 

Jumping back, he lets your body slump against the bars, a hand to his chest, “Yuck— you smell like horeshit! Maybe we should have fed you more, bathed you… I’ve never been very good with keeping pets…” 

Caracalla rubs his chin for a moment, then as if he is brought back from a different time, he claps twice,  “oh well, time to go, your precious Geta is here and it’s time to play!”

You try to fight back feebly, trying to shove his face away from you, your filthy fingernails clutching at his doughy powder coated flesh.

“C’mon!” he pleads like a child, pushing your hands down and bringing a blade to your neck, “you’re going to be the star of the production and you simply can’t miss the show!” 

When sunlight hit your skin it was like you were being burned alive. Your feet scuffed against the stone steps, and you were winded from the climb. Everything was so bright as if you were looking directly into the suns beams. 

Caracalla hissed into your ear, the pungent smell of fruit and fish combining into a stomach twisting aroma as he whispered, “you’ve been such a delight to us here, I will be so upset to see you dead… I’ve been practicing my tears and cries of mourning for when you’re laid to rest with my brother.”

“You won’t be triumphant against him,” you croaked trying to wiggle free from his hold. 

Caracalla giggled before winding back and slapping your cheek, “why do you have to speak such lies? You will die by his hand— squashed like the gnat you’ve become.” 

—

The palace walls roared. 

Thundered like a storm of bees defending their hive. Clashes of swords and weapons gleamed like lightning against a dark sky. Amongst the clouds of dust from the lack of harvest rain, blood splattered the stones like oil paint to a canvas. 

Geta’s revengeful carnage had begun. 

Carnage was colored with maroon and deep sets of rubies in a hilt. Specs of pinkish brain membrane laid out like flower petals at a wedding. 

Carnage was the sound of teeth chipping at the root being ripped away from the gum line, the sheath of a knife embedded into a lung, an abdomen, the muscular thigh of one of Caracalla’s more prominent men. 

Carnage reeked of shit and death. The humble hands of Pluto himself, stretching his claws to welcome home another victim. 

Carnage was Geta, annihilating anyone who stood in his way to get to you. A force built with bared teeth and rippling muscles, sweat dripping from his honey hair. Eyes as black as coal— soulless in every sense of the word. 

The men falling dead by his hands trembled in cowardice when they saw him coming, forgetting how powerful he was with a sword. 

Swords drew silent, the only sound being the pooling fountains now tainted with blood from the dead. Everyone in the palace was either lying deceased or were in hiding, waiting for this hell to end. But Geta had only just begun. 

“Brother!” he shouted, his voice echoing against the marble stone, deep and ragged with exertion. He was standing at his throne then, bodies laying at a heap by his feet, his body covered in their blood, “I know you’re around, Caracalla—answer me!” 

Beyond the pillars behind the tapestries, Caracalla stood with a knife pressed into the meat of your neck, his breath hot against your cheek— a giggle forming in his throat like a child tucked away during a game of hide n seek.

“It’s a shame, Geta,” he announced, his voice ricocheting off the walls, “a fucking shame that you are so soft for this common whore when you’ve had so many, father would be disappointed.” 

Geta’s eyes narrowed, listening for any bit of noise underneath Caracalla’s feet to give him away. He moved on nimble feet, each move more quiet than the next as he waited with trained ears for Caracalla to speak again. 

“What is between you and I, has nothing to do with her— she is merely caught in the middle of our feud— let, her go.” 

Caracalla’s laugh pierced your ear, ringing loudly like a hyena as spit flew from his manic mouth. “She is much more than a simple bystander dear Geta… otherwise you wouldn’t care so proudly.” 

Geta strode towards the direction of his brother’s voice, waiting in the shadows. “You have always been less, why do you think mother and father had me? I was to make up for your shortcomings, so that Septimius Severus would have a decent heir. One who could actually keep the family name in Rome.”

“Enough!” Caracalla screamed, shoving you forward into the clearing, his blade still pressed into your neck, a line of crimson dripping from it, his frantic panicked laugh bubbling behind a shriek, “there will be no heirs for you, brother! I was going to offer her life in place of your crown, let you both be on your merry little way but you just don’t get it do you? I will rule on my own, and you will both be left to rot in the dungeons. Poetic isn’t it?! Two lovers dead by my hand.” 

With the way your head was arched toward the ceiling, you couldn’t see Geta. You could only hear a hitch in his throat at the sight of you. The sodden robes you wore, the filth caked to your skin. 

Geta didn’t move, knowing that Caracalla would be more likely to accidentally cut you deep enough to kill you if he tried to do anything drastic. But the look of you made his stomach curdle like cows milk left in the summer heat.  

The once plump and luscious curves you had were gone. The robes you wore were next to rags. You had been locked away far longer than he had imagined. Possibly weeks before he had even got word of it. If you truly had been with child, there was no tell of it now. Tears stung behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them drop.

“Mother should have drowned you in the river like a litter of pups,” he nearly whispered, eyes trained on his brother, “release her or I will slaughter more of your men leaving their poor wives to be widowed.” 

“Now why would I do such a thing? I’m having the time of my life orchestrating this production.” They both moved then circling like the gladiators would in the coliseum, baiting one another to strike first.

Geta’s eyebrows furrowed at Caracalla’s choice of words… production? 

“Must you be so dense? So surface leveled?” Caracalla answered, “Jessaphina, that wart—terrible actress but she did the job, made this concubine believe every word.” Caracalla grinned like a opossum eating a pile of shit, dragging you with him, your hair wrapped tight in his clutch.

Geta’s eyes never leave Caracalla, his movements smooth and languid as he counts his steps, seconds. 

“Pliteus, the guard who told her to meet you at ‘your spot’ another spy, made actor by yours truly, for the Theatre, of course. And all that leaves is you, Geta. You will be the widower, the brute left in tears of sorrow pleading for a whore’s life. Gods!— I shall be famous when this is through!” 

“You’re demented,” you managed against the sharp blade, cutting yourself in the process, “sickenly so.” 

Caracalla wretched his hand twisting your head back with a snap, causing you to yelp, ”I’m an artist you rancid cow! Can’t you see that?! This was all a form of expression— your uneducated brain would never be able to appreciate such a thing— it’s why I put this all into motion!” 

“So what?” Geta spit,  “you were bored? Needed an activity to keep your cogs oiled enough for you to not slit your wrists in the baleneum, again? You’re a child!” 

Caracalla giggled wickedly mad, “People will write about me for the end of time and how I bested Publius Septimius Geta! You will be nothing more than a myth—erased from memory entirely!” 

Geta stopped, his sword pointing toward his brother. The wind didn’t howl, silence fell between them.

“It will be a true honor to breed my empress in a bed of your blood while she wears her crown.” 

With a jerk of his head, Acacius moves, causing the distraction they had planned. The arrow missing Caracalla’s foot purposefully, causing him to lose his balance and hold on your body. You fell to the ground taking advantage of his blundered state, crawling on all fours away from him. 

Just as the swing of Geta’s blade was centimeters from the skin of Caracalla’s neck, it was stopped with his knife, a crude smile licked onto his lips. “I know your moves dearest brother, you forget it was you and I as children playing these games.” 

Caracalla pushes the sword from him and jabs the tip of the knife into Geta’s bicep. Tearing through tendons and muscles with each twist of his hand. 

“War is not a game,“ Geta gritted, tripping Caracalla with a swipe of his foot until he was on his knees before him, “…and it’s time you realize that.” 

A toss of Acacius sword into Geta’s open hand, and he pressed two blades crossed beneath Caracalla’s chin. 

Caracalla’s throat bobbed against the sharp steel, accepting his defeat, “make it swift precious brother, I intend to see father before the sun sleeps.” 

The blades sung as they severed his head from his spine. Blood sprayed and pooled from the limp teetering body of Caracalla, swords clattered to the ground as Geta stumbled to your side, holding you to him in a bone crushing grasp. 

“You’re safe now.” A tear fell onto your head as he cradled your body into his. 

Your body was still weak as you clung to him practically lifeless as he lifted you from the ground. He instructed Acacius on what to do with the mess. Geta carried you to his private bath, stripped you gingerly of your clothes and bathed you with exceptional care. His lips kissing tenderly to every scrape, every bruise. 

He tutted through his teeth and hissed when your tears fell as he gently wiped the dirt and infection from your cuts. His own tears flowing down his cheeks, mumbling how sorry he is how stupid he was for ever leaving. 

When you tried to speak he shushed you quietly, “not now my dulcis rosa,” he soothed as he scrubbed soap into your hair, you lifted a hand to caress his cheek, coaxing a small smile from him.

Geta called to his servants— that weren’t killed—to gather fresh robes and to fix you something warm and easy to eat. 

He dried your skin once you were cleansed. Rubbing oils and ointments into each ache and pain, dressing the wounds in such expertise you wondered if he had done this often, probably to his own scars. 

Up those winding stairs he carried you to his quarters, never wavering, never once adjusting you in his strong arms.

The room was thrown into its usual cozy dark ambience. His bed was made with enormous feathered pillows, a tray next to the bed with a plate of porridge dressed with honey and figs. 

Once Geta had set you gently onto the pillows propping you up so you could eat, he shook his head when you reached for the spoon. 

“Let me,” he commanded quietly, his eyes large and wet. 

More tears slipped past your lashes as he sniffed largely, blowing gently on the bite of food. “When was your last meal?” 

“I’m not sure of what day we are in,” you answered quietly, “or how long I was there… I lost track.” 

Geta bit back a sob as he brought the spoon to your lips, “It shouldn’t have happened, I shouldn’t have left you so vulnerable.” 

“Please,” you practically begged, swallowing the warm sweetened wheat.  He looked broken, his under eyes dark and his eyelid twitching uncontrollably. Weeks the two of you had been separated and you couldn’t bear the thought of him spiraling for what had happened.

“We are together again,” you whispered, “I do not want to live in past mistakes. Caracalla is gone now, we must move forward, no dwelling.” 

“Forgiveness of thyself has never come easily for me,” Geta admitted wiping a dreadful sigh from his face, “but I can only hope you now know that there has never been another for me—I am so deeply in love with you, gnat.” 

You reached for him pulling him into you until the weight of his body melted with yours. Feverish lips tasted the sweat from his neck as you desperately ached for more of it, pressing your own devotions into his skin, your own words of cupid's love.

Geta’s strong arms wrapped around your back, holding you tenderly as if you were glass. pressing a single searing kiss to your collarbone before leaning back, his eyes staring into yours, “In this lifetime and the one that follows, I will forever be yours— ad caelum vel ad inferos, tecum sum.”

“Ad caelum vel ad inferos.” 

—

Caracalla’s room was sealed off. His belongings burned in the coliseum along with his body, as if he were a monster that could only be considered dead by smoldering licks of flame. 

Geta left the fate of the others up to you. He had wanted them dead the next day, hung from a rope by their necks as they swung with the breeze, paraded around behind his team of horses until they’re skin was pulled from their bones. But you… had other plans. 

Animals from other territories were brought in by the shipload, each more vile and vicious as the next. They were hungry, trained to attack at the smell of garments worn by a certain woman with a healing broken nose. 

It was maybe a bit too grotesque, maybe a bit unhinged the way you had Acacius’s best men tie Jessaphina up from her ankles and wrists one to each post in the center of the coliseum.

And maybe it was a bit over-the-top when you personally rubbed greasy fat and cow entrails all over her body to taunt the beasts on even further. 

But Geta only smirked at your own impressive drive for bloodlust when you stood before your throne hollering for the men to open the gates, releasing the hungry scavengers one by one letting them sniff out their meal. 

Geta watched in admiration as your eyes turned dark, black pools taking over your pretty gaze as Jesspahina’s screams rang through the air

You couldn’t get your hands off of him when her body lay ripped to shreds, her bones being tossed around between snarling teeth and sharp black claws. The sand colored in her crimsoned blood. You pulled him from his own throne by the front of his shirt, yanking him into a small private room covered by a drapery for a door.

“My little demonic empress,” Geta growled as he pushed himself further into you, groaning when you whimpered out, your lip bit between your teeth, robes rucked up to your chest, “you just might be more evil than I am, have my ways rubbed off on you?” 

The passion between you two had never dulled. Each day it seemed to grow with fervorous desire. Some days Geta fucked into you until you were too sore to walk. Your bodies were both painted with stains from sucking mouths and marks from gnashing teeth. Each time better than the last. 

You were soaked when Geta knelt before you, his nose pressed into your sex as you circled your hips onto it. He stood and shoved his clothing out of the way, yours already stuffed beneath your chin. and when he slammed his fat cock into you the darkness returned. Two demons fucking at the loss of life and smell of blood in the air. 

“Practically getting off to a hideous murder in front of my mother and the others, my my…” he hissed, wrapping a hand around your throat squeezing until your breath rattled beneath his palm, “you truly were sent to me from the Gods weren’t you?” 

You nodded, moaning when he attached his lips to your neck, pinching your nipple until it purpled. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing the deserved slaughtered.” 

Geta groaned as your clenching pussy gripped him as you came undone, his own release following closely behind, yelling out your name. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he breathed raggedly into your neck, adjusting your robes back into place, sweat pouring from his brow.

Your smile squeaked against his ear, “it is not even my birth date, Geta, you are spoiling me.” 

Leaving the room Geta kisses your palm, “no,” he agrees, “it is not, but am I not allowed to gift my wife with divine luxuries?” 

“You are, but you don’t need to give me anything…” you say, holding your belly with which the healer confirmed that you were indeed with child all along. Something Geta never let you forget that he knew you better than you knew yourself. 

His lips pressed to your cheek, his hand laying delicately on your stomach as you whispered, “you’ve given me enough as it is.” 

He smiled wickedly pulling back to lace your fingers with his own, “come,” he commanded, pulling you back towards the palace. 

—

The great stone table stood bare except for a golden cloth. Acacius proudly stood guard next to it, bowing upon the sight of you. 

“My lady,” he greeted, smiling at the sight of your radiant face, then facing Geta with the same warm smile, “Emperor.” 

“Thank you,” Geta said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, “hope you didn’t have any trouble getting it?” 

Acacius smirked and adjusted his sword on his belt, “not at all, they were quite thrilled to be rid of it.” 

Geta rippled out a laugh from his throat as he stood behind the table, his large hands pressed into it, “I can only imagine… Gnat, my love, are you ready?” 

“As I will ever be,” you said cautiously, stepping up to the table. 

Acacius stood back as Geta pinched a piece of the cloth between his fingers, “presented to you, my undying devotion,” he said sweetly before pulling the cloth revealing your present. 

Anyone else would have ran and screamed, damning him to hell. But you were unlike everyone else, and you saw the beauty in his gift and the meaning behind it. 

Blood had been drained, the smell minimal, and judging by the way the darkness that filled Geta to the brim and now poured into yourself was clouding your eyes, the mad tick of your lips as they perked up in greed: you were pleased. 

“It is exquisite, amor meus,” you smiled wider, getting closer to your present. 

Geta looked at you proudly, his eyes inky and shining. His gnat, his dulcis, his wife, his empress— his tainted heart content for the first time in his life, and it was all thanks to you. “Where shall we put it, the mantle?” 

You picked it up, holding it high to the sky for the Gods to see, “a gift more precious than gold deserves to be seen, for all—don’t you think?” 

Sat on a pedestal, his name engraved on a piece of wood, a large red rose sewn between his lips, was the severed head of Caracalla. 

taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @fallout-girl219 @all-will-be-well-love @anythinggoesemily @eddiesguitarskills

@prestinalove @razzeith @workingwndrz @probablyin-bed @songforeddiemunson

@avobabe87 @creative1writings @liminalpebble @screaming-blue-bagel @spookyquinnbie

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@alyisdead @honey-eyed-munson @justiceforfelicityfeatherington herington @hereforshmut @runningupthatvecna

@rxqueenotd

[teddiesworldd]

could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk

after the world ends (p2)

this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)

pairing: simon ghost riley x reader

tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')

day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.

time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 

other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 

in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.

it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.

you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 

head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.

the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.

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

four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.

nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.

but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 

“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.

“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 

“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.

“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.

“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.

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[steddieas-shegoes]

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” 👀

READICUS. Okay. Alright. I've caught the context disease from you though.

Rated M | tags: language, flirting, dirty talk, so much discussion about sex they might as well be having it, getting together, FWB to lovers

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

It was just grocery shopping.

They were in a grocery store.

Eddie should not be getting hard watching Steve pick out the ripest bananas.

Like, genuinely, even he knew this was as ridiculous as it could get.

It's just that they'd been casually fucking for the last few weeks, letting off steam, just dudes helping dudes through their synchronous dry spells, and watching Steve pay so much attention to a fucking banana was a lot for Eddie to wrap his mind around.

Casually fucking might not even be the right term.

It was more like...fucking like rabbits.

Eddie spent more time at Steve's house than he spent at his own, and most of that time was spent either naked or trying to be.

He spent the night last night, and only agreed to come shopping with Steve after a very convincing blowjob against the kitchen counter.

It was working for them.

Except for how much Eddie loved Steve. Not like a friend, or a brother, or the way he loved his Hellfire minions. He loved Steve in the "would marry you in Vegas and have tons of babies with you if you wanted" way.

So embarrassing.

Especially taking into consideration that there was no way Steve saw their arrangement as anything more than convenient.

He watched as Steve finally settled on the perfect bunch of bananas and shuffled back to the cart that Eddie was leaning on.

Eddie leaned forward as Steve leaned over the cart, his lips brushing against his ear.

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs," he whispered.

Which was bold of him considering the grocery store was packed with weekend shoppers.

Steve tensed, his body freezing completely as Eddie backed away, smiling and waving at an old lady glaring at him.

"What the fuck, Eds."

Steve's cheeks were fire engine red, his hands gripping the edge of the cart like it was the only thing holding him up.

"What? I just thought you should know how bad I want you," Eddie shrugged.

They flirted with each other all the time, that's what led to their situation in the first place: the flirting went a bit too far and Steve ended up on his lap, rocking his hips back and forth until he came in his jeans.

No big deal.

Just another day.

But never in public, barely even around someone they trusted.

"Here? Now?" Steve squeaked out, eyes widening comically.

"Why not? You're hot," Eddie's hand grazed his lower back, just enough of a touch to tease, not enough to really be noticed by anyone else.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed. "You want people to see?"

"No, 'course not," Eddie smirked. "I just want you to feel."

Watching Steve struggle to find words, struggle to flirt, was possibly the biggest win in Eddie's book. If he could pat himself on the back for it, he would.

"We're in public."

"Stevie, I hate to say it, but being in public doesn't really stop me from wanting to get on my knees and suck your dick."

Steve's face got impossibly darker, only spurring Eddie on more.

"If I wasn't so worried about being walked in on, I'd drag you to the bathroom right now. Maybe fuck you in a stall. You'd probably like that, huh? You liked when I fucked you against the shower wall the other day," Eddie let his fingers trace along Steve's arm, subtle, easy to pull away if someone got too close to them.

"Eddie-"

"Or maybe you'd wanna fuck me. I know how much you like throwing me around and showing off sometimes. Think that would work for you?"

Eddie watched as Steve shivered, biting his lip and doing his best to hold back a whine.

"But we won't do that, right? Because only I get to see you like that. The way you fuck me, the way I fuck you, that's just for us, isn't it?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked around, confirmed no one was close enough to see, and settled a hand on the front of Steve's jeans.

"This is just for me."

"Yeah, just for you," Steve choked out, his hand grasping at Eddie's wrist to either pull it away or hold it in place. "Eds-"

"I know, Stevie. But we gotta shop. That's what you said when you were on your knees in the kitchen this morning."

"I can shop later," Steve gasped as Eddie's hand squeezed once before pulling away.

They were in public and there was only so much Eddie was willing to try to get away with, but Steve's reaction was everything.

He looked away, focusing on the apples in front of him as if he cared at all about apples when Steve Harrington was hard right next to him.

He froze.

He thought about everything he'd just said, how possessive he'd sounded, how he'd never quite crossed that line before.

How into it Steve was.

He looked back at Steve, who was still staring at him, face almost back to a normal shade, but lips bitten red and eyes glassy.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want that to be just for me?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to be mine? Like, more than just...fucking?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Is that...an option?" Steve was letting him have this discussion in the grocery store.

"If you want it to be."

Every once in a while, Eddie saw this look in Steve's eye, only ever when he was looking at Eddie doing something stupid or funny or when he was messing around with the kids.

He never let himself think that it was anything more than just Steve getting distracted while looking at him.

He could see it now, though, and he couldn't ignore what that look actually was.

"I want it. I want you."

Eddie was fucked. In more ways than one, it seemed.

"You do?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've practically been living with me for weeks, dude."

Eddie's lips curled down, disgusted.

"Don't call me dude, oh my God."

Steve laughed.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," he winked, turning around and pretending that he didn't just make Eddie's brain short circuit.

"I- what-" Eddie sputtered.

"What? Can't handle my mouth? You handle it fine earlier."

God, Eddie loved this man.

"Stevie, how fast can you finish shopping?" Eddie started pushing the cart away, not even sure if he was going in the right direction.

"If you stop distracting me, ten minutes."

"I'll be in the car, then."

[kalpeavaris]

Finally! The designs for the main trio for the furry/creature!AU is ready... OTL only took me like a month to complete and I still have to design clothes for N & V, but... that'll be done another day when I dont have a raging headache LMAO

more below the cut!

UZI - Theme; "Dangerous Stranger"

Dwarf bat, is slightly smaller than most of her peers - got her heigh from her dad (and not from her mother, obviously LOL)

VERY fluffy neck area, which puffs out when she's angry or embarassed. It happens alot especially during her earlier arc, since she's not really used to be around people.

Has a dormant/inactive strain of the rabies-like virus the Solver belongs to, however, despite its dormant status it does affect her personality and behaviour slightly! She's way more unhinged than OG Uzi, especially in her post-arc.

LOVES raves/rave music. Differently from OG Uzi she's less of an emo/goth personality and more of a 2000s raver girlie (which is evident in her theme lol)

Loud mouthed and WILL voice her opinion, lol

Her mom is a touchy subject and she WILL get angry when you push her about it too much

In the beginning of her story Uzi's fairly similar to OG Uzi - snarky, pushes people away and hates it when they care for her well-being, assuming that people just fake being nice in order to get something from her. She's not particularily insecure, but rather "too" self-preserving and just doesn't really want to get hurt in the long run. Losing her mother has taken a toll on her mental health and being infected with the solver-strain doesn't really help

Later on, she opens up and allows her true personality to finally shine through... which is slightly unhinged. Actually, very unhinged, but in an... kind of adorable way :']] She gets way more self-confident and allows people to approach her, which also helps when Cyn moves in with them

N(ATHAN)

Harpy Eagle, fairly tall (7'2" / 2,20m) and muscular for his species. Strong! Has a very prominent keel (sternum) visible on his chest

His hair behind the cap are more like feathers and correspond to his emotions! Can floof up or lay flat

Fourth toe on his feet is very moveable and can be turned so it's infront with his other three primary toes - he can grab stuff fairly easily thanks to his anatomy & carry it with ease!

Similar to Vera, he was "born" in the lab and cloned from another harpy eagles DNA (he doesn't know who though)

A bit naive and sometimes too good-hearted, trusts easily but if his trust is broken through actual malice he won't hold back if need be

Very good fighter, especially in the air

Carrier, can travel fairly fast by flight!

Ends up with Thad later on in the story, teehee >:]]c

V(ERA)

Egyptian Mau x Oriental Longhair, shaves alot of her longer fur for work purpose - only her tail remains with long fur, but it's fairly unkempt due to lack of time to properly care for it during the main story.

Blind in right eye due to a former work contract going wrong, uses glasses to take some load off of her left eye during work

Plantigrade, prefers to be barefoot though even if there are boots available for her to wear

Works together with Nathan for the Elliott Labratories (running errands, delivering dangerous substances/test containers/diseases etc.)

Dislikes working with Janette, the Labs secretary

Heavily into oldschool rock and punk music (fights with Uzi alot about music lol)

Knows how to drive cars! :]

Was "born" in the labs (artifical creation from the cells of two cats)

Infected with the same inactive/dormant Rabies-Strand that Nori, Yeva and Uzi carry - which she is aware off. She also knows that Nathan has it, but hasn't told him yet due to being afraid of it affecting him too harshly.

[chefkids]

Spoon Theory

This is arguably the single most important The Bear meta post I will ever make so please bear with me.

The first spoon we see in the entire series is when Carmy takes Sydney's spoon to try her stew. This is right after he cut his hand from not being able to find his sharp knife, and before he has to meet with Natalie to get Mikey's jacket, which was stressing him out. She "gave him a spoon" and a bit of positivity when he needed to calm down and get some energy by knowing at the very least Sydney can cook well.

Needing a spoon is needing help. When he hands over the brigade to Sydney he is waving around spoons the entire episode, when she really needed his help and his "spoons". Later on Sydney is not afraid to just ask him for his help.

With the risotto she gave him a "spoon" that would help the restaurant, that brought in a good review and customers, but he didn't have enough of his own "spoons" to deal with it as he was stressing out over the window that just got shot through and the IRS needing the missing tax returns. Right before trying the risotto Carmy had told Richie he is afraid of something good happening. He is afraid of Sydney and him doing well, because the better it gets the more it will hurt him when something goes wrong. That is why he keeps self sabotaging the restaurant and doubting Sydney.

After Sydney quit, she is still using her spoons for mental energy to make sure Marcus is okay and to try and figure out her next steps career wise. Carmy grabbed a spoon to open the tomato can lid, which he really didn't need because he could've just used the can opener, and then found the money. When he finds the money they both know they would be fine on their own, she could find another job, he could fix up The Beef. But they still need each others emotional spoons to achieve their passions, so he reaches out and she comes back.

In Season 2 she did need his "spoons" to help create the menu and decide on the details for the restaurant, but he barely gave her any because he was still so caught up in his past trauma and the literal and metaphorical forks in his life.

Fixing the table really didn't physically need more than one "spoon"/person. But he needed her there to work through his mental block. With the inspiration food tour, she did it on her own and she didn't physically need him for it, she needed his emotional spoons.

When they are not communicating well with each other and Carmy is trying to reach back and be involved again, he gets as close as he can to her spoon without actually using it.

And now the dark side of spoons.

The originator of spoon theory has lupus and first came up with this theory at a restaurant to explain what it was like living with the condition to a friend. They could've easily said Sydney's mom died of cancer or an accident or anything else. But this is all so intentional, out of all the things it is Lupus. I don't want Sydney to be sick as much as the next person, but Lupus is a chronic autoimmune disease that has higher likelihood of developing when you have a family member with it, and can be triggered by environmental factors such as stress. It is an invisible illness and Christine's own handle is butyoudontlooksick, which could really explain Sydney and what she has going on behind her walls that people can't see. She has been a rock to so many people and over exerting herself, but there might come a time soon when Sydney will genuinely need other peoples "spoons", especially Carmy's, because she's all out.

Now that Carmy said he is choosing to give Syd his focus aka his "spoons", will he actually be able to follow through?

Read The Fork Theory next

Read The Knife Theory

[electrozeistyking]

hey you know what. when I think about the in rot and infection au sometimes i give myself psychic damage. like i'll apply it to a concept where one of the other party members are looping, and realize, on account how siffrin starts the first loop in irai, he's kinda just doomed no matter which angle you take it from. which is a major ouch, especially for me.

like oh he got crushed by rock? yeah you have to save him from getting crushed next time. by the way turns out he's also infected. whoops. full of pourirr disease now.

irai!odile specifically is the only one who has the nerve to bash their head in and make them loop back, so if it's an odile looping au, she has to deal with having to do that every loop. and if it's anybody else they have to deal with potentially watching her do that.

AHAHA IT WOULD ESPECIALLY BE BAD IF IT WAS A BONNIE LOOPING AU. y'all that is an entire preteen right there, and odile does what she does without taking that into consideration. like first they're in a time loop, and frin got crushed. now it turns out frin has pourrir disease, and is dangerous. then dile runs up and bashes his head in, effectively killing him in however many strikes it would take her.

CAN YOU??? FREAKING??? IMAGINE THAT??? HOW BONNIE WOULD FEEL??? OR EVEN MIRABELLE OR ISABEAU IF THEY'RE THE LOOPER INSTEAD FOR THAT MATTER??? LIKE AT LEAST SIFFRIN LOOPS BACK FROM THAT, BUT EVERYONE ELSE HAS TO DEAL WITH THE AFTERMATH.

also pretty messed up of me to take Siffrin, notorious disliker of change, and then drop a weird sickness that forces drastic changes to his body (in a remarkably short span of time all things considered) on him. and he has to loop back from that every time he's infected.

he'll reset, sure. but now he also has to deal with knowing he might change like that again every time he loops. the effect that might have on him. seriously.

anyway yeah irai's running around in circles in my brain, the thoughts this thing provokes my god. highly recommend applying it to different concepts to see what emotional damage you can get out of it, especially with bonnie or isabeau. I didn't talk about isabeau here but him dealing with infected siffrin is. oough. ouch.

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

[scarlettoceaneyes]

HELOHELLO IVE READ SOME OF YOUR STUFF AND OMG I LOVE IT?? CAN YOY DO EMBRY X NON ENGLISH SPEAKER, IF YOU DON’T KNOW ANY OTHER LANGUAGES EXTROVERTED EMBRY X INTROVERTED READER?? (Or the other way around idk lololol)

Thanks for the request! I am learning some Spanish, but I am a native english speaker. Hey, anyone willing to be my spanish speaker pen pal would rock friends! I use Duolingo, but I don’t want to pay for all the special features. So, I will work on the second part of the request for you love!

*I got the shakes today with my autoimmune disease symptoms, so likely not proofread. 🙂

Opposites Attract- Introverted Embry x Extroverted reader

“Look man, she is always active on Instagram. Send her a DM.” Jacob was trying to convince Embry to actually say hello to his imprint after locking eyes with her in the grocery store outside of Forks for like two seconds. 

“Yeah Embry slide into those DMs” Quil as usual jokes to his best friend as he brings in the pizza and sodas for game night with the pack. One playstation and several wolves always make for an interesting night, usually ending in fighting and some of the pack phasing to run off steam instead of physically hurting each other. Yeah tension could get high, but Emrby was more of a silent observer. He came because he did love spending time with his pack, and a good round or two on the video games, but otherwise his anxiety spiked at times with all the noise and rough housing. 

Embry considered sending a quick message, but he let his mental conflict win. By sending the message he was just another of the sleazy guys wanting a good time, but in reality that was not on his mind. He just wanted to hear your voice. Flipping through the photos and videos you have posted, he clicked the button to follow you out of a moment of bravery. To his surprise, you did follow right back, along with liking some photos. Em wasn’t sure if this was a prank or real, but the guys noticed his heart rate flip flop. 

Paul whipped his head around after sensing the change in Embry. Even with Lahote’s tough exterior, he really gave Embry credit for keeping to himself, as Paul did the same when he wasn’t putting someone in their place. Seeing the internal conflict, Paul suggested he just send one message, but don’t use all those pick up lines Quil would, to which Quil quickly took offense to. 

**********

Y/N posted the lasted video from the girl’s night last night. Receiving a follow request from someone vaguely familiar, and realizing it was that really hot guy from the grocery store yesterday you followed him back. Liking a few of his photos, you could tell he was shy. Suddenly receiving a message, you decided to wait a few minutes to respond as you didn’t want to seem extremely desperate to talk to him. 

Instead you decided to post that video of you doing a dance that didn’t cross the line of scandalous, but was definitely an attention grabber. You were not an introverted person, but knowing that this cute guy was watching your post on instagram made you feel different. Calmer and reserved to a point, but you held yourself back from making the first move because you actually wanted this one to mean something. 

Right before you were giving in to type a cute pick up line or something, you received a message from this guy- Embry Call his profile said while he introduced himself and aksed if you would be interested in a date. Suddenly it hit you, this was Tiffany Call’s son. You worked with Tiffany at times during college for a part time job. You haven’t spoken to her in years, but you always did enjoy working with her. If her son was anywhere as sweet as his mom, you were stuck in a day dream about the possibilities. Dates, marriage, babies...okay woah! Getting to far ahead of yourself and he was still waiting for a response. You quickly responded with a heck yeah- in different terms. You didn’t want to sound like that type of girl, but something pulled you to him. As if you have known him forever. 

-Weeks Later-

You were pulling Embry by the arm, practically running to meet your friends at the restaurant for dinner. Embry was finally getting to be introduced as your boyfriend, however he was less than enthused. 

“Listen, everything will be fine ok? They already like you and have met in passing. What is wrong?” Embry looked at you to respoknd, “Y/N, I am just not used to talking to people, and I don’t know if you noticed, but I am an introvert and keep to myself.” You laugh and remind him that you know and opposites attract. Something came over you as you turned to him and smiled...”I love you”. He whips his head around, kinda confused to if this was a joke or not. You knew his look and responded that it was true, and that you knew something was special when you first met. Your friends know it too, so relax. With that he grabs your hand, says he loves you too, and steals a kiss that you practically could cry of happiness. “I love you too Y/N. I have secrets to share, but I promise nothing bad. I want us to be the long game. I know its been a few weeks of dating but I understand why people are obsessed with love at first sight because I have felt that with you, and every first moment I see you every time again.” You looked up into his sweet eyes with a giant smile. Kissing him deeply you replied, “I am here forever. You’re secrets are now mine. If you could say all that, then lets do this because all my friends are jealous I get your lips and not them.” Embry couldn’t hide his smile knowing that he finally has found his soulmate, but also that he felt less anxiety knowing your feelings. 

You two walked hand in hand to the restaurant. The server leads you to a table while Embry pulls out your chair for you. You two touched in some form the whole night, while you both actually had fun. You did have too much to drink so Embry had to carry you home to his house. He gave you the bed while he made a pallet on the floor until you stopped him. 

“Not sleeping together, but sleep beside me and hold me tonight please?” He couldn’t resist. Opposites attract, as Embry thanked God for his imprint in his arms. He also was thankful he found the one who made him feel brave for the first time in his life. Opposites attract. 

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Alright part 2 cause I need the serotonin this will involve Damian (this is part 2 to redhood taking care of the kids in crime alley)

Eventually after hours of work and vigilante shit getting done Jason aka redhood finally has some time to stop by and check on his kids safe houses though strangely he can't find any of them in they're usually places which is incredibly odd until he starts hearing lots of cheering and cooing coming from one of the side streets that lead to a dead end on one side of the abandoned alley.

What he finds when he walks over are the kids his kids in a circle surrounding a bunch of stray animals and some clearly abandoned animals, now Jason knows for a fact that these animals don't live in this part of town he's not adverse to feeding strays it's just he usually would notice the animals especially if he sees them frequently around Gotham and these aren't exactly what he'd call native to this part of town considering some of them looked freshly cleaned usually the strays would have dirty and muck allover there fur and paws covered in mud and the toxic rock salt solutions that have. Been used to prevent ice from covering the streets..

Eventually the kids then towards him with big hopeful eyes and says can't we keep them can't you take care of them I mean you said you just got a new safe house for everyone and that weird guy with the suit has been helping you take care of us we promise we'd train them well and keep them happy and fed and we'll walk them every day before and after school, WE COULD EVEN TRAIN THEM TO HELP YOU TAKE OUT BAD GUYS ESPECIALLY IF ANYMORE MEAN MEN COME AFTER US AGAIN...

Jason is taken aback he's never been in this situation before hell he can't even imagine Bruce or even Alfred in this situation he tried to think of what they'd do if faced with this decision but honestly both those options felt incredibly heartless, with a sigh he slowly pulled out his vigilante specific phone and looked at the weather for this week of Gotham and when he found that it'll be below freezing temperatures he found he couldn't say no at least not tonight, and maybe this could teach them some responsibility, but now here's the trouble what does he do if they decide they want the same pet he can't imagine theyd be willing to share one and animals tended to choose there owners as well ..

Eventually hood just sighed and goes alright guys you may take them inside get them warmed up and I'll see about getting some animal food and dog beds and blankets as well as cat toys, at least for this week since this whole week it'll be below freezing temperatures, beyond that I'm not sure if this is a good idea we're already on thin ice as it is especially with Gotham child services if they think for even a second any of you are living in filth with no supervision with an animal at that, one that could be labeled as dangerous or disease ridden I'm not sure that even Harvey would be able to bail us out this time so I want everyone to treat the next two weeks as a trial run show me your all adult enough to handle pet ownership, we're not putting them back out on the streets and we're definitely not going to allow anyone putting them to sleep if we cannot keep them i don't want any of you to be worried about that."

"Suzy you've recently been diagnosed with asthma and whole I have had you tested for allergies and it's all come back negative I want you to understand that in some people animal hair/fur can trigger your asthma quite badly, if that starts to happen I'd unfortunately be forced to take it away and re-home it and I'm not saying this to be cruel I'm saying this so you understand that your health is more important than owning a pet even if we love them dearly, though if that's the case whoever we rehome it to I'll ensure you'll be able to visit from time to time alright".

Each kid scoops up an animal one of which manages to pick up a fairly big pitbull and awkwardly waddles up the apartment complex stairs every now and. Again tilting ever so slightly to the side due to the weight of the animal meanwhile the entire time the dog seems to be happily drooling with it's great big pink tongue hanging out, a bunch of the younger kids have chosen to take in the kittens who seemed to be at least a year old, he's seen enough of Catwoman tending to stray cats over the years to recognize the older cats from the younger ones, one kid in particular seemed to have a fluffy bunny in one arm and a pug in the other, vaguely Jason felt as if he just opened a can of worms he was not qualified to deal with.. As the last of the kids and pets went inside he heard a crunching come from behind but when he turned around he saw no one

"Hey Todd it seems your delinquents have found my friends, I was taking them out for some air but they got away from me and when I was about to go out and look for them father had informed me that there's a new case he must work on and while he does so he needed me to patrol with dick, I had each of them chipped with my own specially designed microchips and tracked them to this location and I noticed your delinquents have taken a liking to them, maybe we can come to an acceptable agreement, your delinquents may keep and even care for my friends in exchange you allow me to teach them about the animals and proper animal handling and maybe this way they'll finally learn some culture, and you don't tell father I was bringing more friends to the manor".

"first off stop calling them delinquents they're good people, not soldiers, not delinquents, and most definitely not unworthy simply because they were born of lessor means, you don't see me dick or Bruce calling you an irredeemable monster that only cares for perfection simply because ra's is your grandfather, I thought you would've known better by now especially living In a place like Gotham and interacting with the people here, maybe Bruce has already failed you if this is how you see others of lesser means, I'm sure he'd be disappointed and so wouldn't dick".

...

Damian is caught off guard by how valiantly passionate Jason sounds when talking of those of lessor means, Damian did feel a bit of shame wash over him for calling the kids delinquents but how could he not feel this way they were all covered in dirt and muck and seemed to do nothing all day but chasing after an idiot like the red hood and not taking any real interest in creating a lasting legacy, or taking proper. Care if there appearances, it was barbaric how carefree they were running around, showing all those emotions, that was a weakness, a thing that could easily be exploited and used against you why couldn't they see that, why couldn't they see by openly running wild they were leaving themselves open to be hurt, it's dangerous to be this loud to take up this much space, they lacked discipline and-,..

Jason noticed that Damian's mood seemed to have changed from snarky know it all to his fake Bruce face the type of face Bruce would use when he's thinking really hard about a case but can't seem to quite crack the puzzle, and the type that usually resulted in bruce pulling out his own hair due to the stress and trauma, honestly in this moment Damian looked like a blank sheet in a sense facially it's a face he's seen before on other league members when a single free thought or word out of turn would lead to a severe physical punishment.

Finally Damian looked up almost looking like a sad scared child honestly like Jason probably did when Bruce first found him all those years ago stealing tires off the batmobile, and running around the streets,

"Todd I... Apologize, the- .. your acquaintances aren't delinquents, but they are disorganized, and it's barbaric, I am concerned that them being so open will only lead them to painful lessons later on if they're not careful, though I see now it is not my place to intervene or say as much, but I'd still really like to teach them how to properly take care of my friends I also have treats for them"-..

"it's fine, you may teach them how to care for the animals if you wish, but please try not to go on for hours about the history of how they got here or there ancestors, they're not like you, so keep it simple at least at first and then if they have questions answer them as they arrive, they don't have access to real school or top educations like you or dick did, what they learn is mainly thanks to me and Alfred and a program that's slowly being implemented by the locals around here, alot of them are former teachers, midwives, ECT before they had to quit there jobs or leave due to active threats to they're safety, and they're helping us establish a small school for basic education and educational skills they'll need later in life, also I'd like for you to be prepared as they may make fun of the way you speak and your accent as there's not alot of people around here that speak like you".

[sumirexxxx]

— Treat Me Like A Slut

cw: trans!scara , gn!reader , degrading kink , belly bulge , overstimulation , fingering , sub!scara , dom!reader , rough sex , cursing , mentions of cock/dick

summary: scara is a exclusive slut who only fcks rich people

“This is all you got?” Scara stares blankly, his tone laced with annoyance. “Look, i’m not some cheap whore just anyone can buy for a night..” Scara sighs while rolling his eyes, his patience running low.

“B-But this is all i have! Please, i’ll pay you back once i get enough cash-“

“Listen..,” Scara stands up from his seat whilst unwrapping a lollipop from a glass jar before popping it into his mouth. “I don’t know if the program told you this, but i don’t fuck with limp dick men. You either have the money or you go to some local motel and catch some deadly disease from their smelly vaginas and die.”

“B-But please.. i beg of you!” The man shouted as he dropped to his hands and knees, tears welling up in his eyes.

Scara was eating this shit up. He adored when men would beg and gravel at his feet. Unfortunately, this occurrence didn’t last long when his manger ( aka you ) showed up and escorted the man out of the building.

“Scara…” You sigh in defeat after closing the establishment doors. “Was it necessary to cause such a ruckus?”

Scara rolls his eyes before walking on over towards you and gently gazes his hand against your abs. “Wanna fuck me big boy~?”

“Don’t you’d think it be inappropriate for a manger to have intercourse with their client?” You teased, edging Scara on until he throws himself at you.

“Oh please.” Scara scoffed. “Spare me the formalities and just fuck me already.” Scara whines as he wraps his arms around your neck and brings you into a heated kiss.

The both of your tongues intertwine with each other as a string of saliva was left behind after the both of you needed a breather. “How about we finish the rest of this in my office..” Scara nods his head in agreement and wraps his legs around your waist. You carried him to your office and placed him on your desk before going back to kissing him passionately.

“W-What.. about t-the door..” Scara moaned between the wet kiss, drool escaping from the side of his mouth as he looks at you with half lidded eyes. “What if someone w-walks in on us..”

“Guess you’ll have to be quite then.” You chuckled as you slowly moved your kisses down to his neck and then his torso before reaching his clothed cunt. It was adorable seeing Scara worry about you, but you knew deep down he didn’t give two shits. He just didn’t want to share you with anyone else. Scara moaned and arches his back as you bite and suck his inner thigh, causing him to spread his legs even wider till you could see a damp spot in the middle of his panties. “You’re already this soaking wet for me?” You teased as you pinched Scara’s clothed clit.

“Y-Yes!~” Scara gasps as you slide his lavender panties to the side and already slid a finger into his silk entrance. “Nghhh-! N-Need more~” He groaned as he rocked his hips against your hand. You ignored Scara’s request as you continue to fuck him with one finger only, which eventually brings Scara to tears as he continues to beg for more of your fingers. “P-Please my cunt aches… hmmp~ pl-please- i’m so close..!”

“You look so beautiful when you’re begging like a desperate bitch.” You sigh teasingly before shoving three more fingers into his sloppy wet cunt. Scara in advance covers his mouth with his hand as he yelps from the sudden intrusion. His body goes limp as his back arches off from the wooden office desk.

Scara wishes he could protest when he suddenly felt the coil in his lower abdomen snap. “I-I’m coming! Nghhhh~ ah-“ Scara squirts all over your fingers and wrist, wetting the desk below him. His body trembles as he comes down from his orgasm. “M-More.. n-not enough..”

You tilt your head to the side as you pull your slick fingers out from Scara’s entrance. “Isn’t someone being a little too greedy..” You sigh. “I’ve already done so much for you..”

Scara scoffs as he attempts to sit up, only for his strength to deny him as he helplessly falls back down on the desk. “Y-You haven’t done jackshit..”

“Oh dear…” You ruffled Scara’s hair before standing up and removing your dress pants and boxers. “Was my fingers not enough for you?” You ask mockingly as you rubbed your tip against his wet folds.

“O-Obviously.” Scara stutters as he attempts to remain obnoxious as usual but the build up after the orgasm seeps in. Scara let’s out a soft whimper when he feels your tip pressing against his entrance, slowly but surely going inside him. Your gaze is fixated on Scara’s expressions, making sure he is completely comfortable at all times. You’re well aware that majority of your customers don’t treat your clients with the up most of care. Unintentionally whilst you were thinking of Scara well being he roughly rubbed his heel into your ass. “M-Move already!” He sneered as Scara bucks his hips against your thick cock.

In response to Scara’s disobedience, you pulled your cock all the way out till only the tip was in until slamming all of it back into him. Scara screamed as tears flooded his eyes and his jaw hanged low, leaving him speechless. “F-Fuck… you’re squeezing me..” You groaned as you threw your head back.

“S-Soo full.. nghh~!” Scara moaned as he chanted this line like a curse. His gaze shifted towards his lower abdomen as he can see the outline of your cock bulging in and out of his hypogastric. “N-Nghh… i-i’m gonna cum.. hmmp.. ahh- i’m coming-!” Scara squirted all over you again like the whore he is, spraying your belly with his clear fluids as well as your dick. “C-Cum inside me! I-I wanna feel you hot seed inside… nghh~ m-my cunt~”

You nod your head in agreement as you continue to fuck him vigorously. Thrusting your hips a few more times against Scara fat pussy has you coming instantly. Your white fluids were quickly milked away by Scara gooey walls. The feeling of fullness sent Scara into overstimulation causing him to squirt one last time, his clear fluids mixed with your white ones seeped out of his swollen red cunt. Scara pants as you slide out of him before pressing a kiss to his temple as the both of you clean up and head home.

[autisticrosewilson]

Hiii!! Do you have any Jason & Catherine, Jason & Willis headcanons to spare?? Alsoo, permission to use on fics? 👀

Thank YOU FOR THE ASK!! And of course I love when people use my headcanons!!

For Jason and Catherine I think he gets his love of theatre, especially musicals, from Cathy. She seems like the type to study classics or work at an antique shop or something and a lot of their apartment used to be decorated with assorted knickknacks. It was a little bit of push back against her Catholic upbringing which demonized earthly pleasures and material goods.

Admittedly she used to have hoarder tendencies, she would get very attached to her collections, they became a crutch for her while caring for her mother and after her mother's death, and I think this is what inspired Jason's tendency to keep as little on him at all times. He couldn't stand the clutter for the first few months after Willis was arrested.

I've mentioned it before but I think a big part of why they never had a kid of their own after taking in Jason is because Catherine was scared of passing down her hereditary disease, especially because in my version she originally comes back to Gotham to take care of her sick mom. In this way she spares Jason from dying like her and her mother, but she ultimately fails to save him the pain of watching his mom deteriorate right in front of him.

Jason comes by his autism honestly, from both parents. Neither Catherine or Willis were particularly aware of it but they totally understood all of Jason's interests and his insistence on rigid routines. Neighbors and teachers would be like "don't you find how isolated he is odd?" And they would be like "Nope :) kneeling on the playground collecting rocks and organizing the classroom bookshelf during recess are perfectly normal. And so is him crying when the lights are too bright and eating his food section by section."

I know that Jason was the CHUNKIEST baby, I know it I was there. Catherine and Willis dressed him as a pumpkin as often as they could and he made all the girls and old people in the apartment SWOON and fawn over him. He didn't even have teeth and he was raking in candy.

Catherine and Willis had VERY different parenting techniques, Cathy grew up on a farm going to church every Sunday in Virginia while Willis grew up running Gotham's streets with little to no reliable supervision. So Catherine was kind of a helicopter mom because Jason was her miracle kid, while Willis was a lot more laid back. Which isn't to say that Willis loved him less, but Willis prefers to teach Jason to be self sufficient because he knows exactly what it takes to survive in Gotham.

Willis always wanted to take Jason fishing but due to it being Gotham...that never happened. Regardless, he tries to hit as many of the typical father-son milestones as he could because he never really got to do those things with his own father. Jason wasn't particularly sporty, but he was canonically a baseball fan and I also think he's a hockey fan, so that's something him and Willis bonded over. They definitely found their favorite bonding activity working on cars together though (can someone say shared special interest).

I actually think Jason gets his love of cooking from Willis! I imagine he worked with a lot of street food vendors and at a lot of different mom and pop restaurants, he seems like the type who bounced from a lot of different jobs throughout his teen and college years so he's kind of a jack of all trades and has a bunch of niche skills from his EXTENSIVE career. Willis Todd is much like Barbie to me. But anyway he passed down a lot of those recipes and his love for food and different cultures to Jason. Catherine can cook but after growing up being told it would always be her responsibility, something she was obligated to do as a wife, Willis's delight in doing domestic tasks like that is part of what drew her to him.

Willis had a picture of Jason in his wallet and he bragged about Jason to anyone who would listen so a lot of people recognized Jason on the streets, which put a target on his back but also so many of Willis's friends (exes) knew Jason that part of why Jason survived so long is that people were a lot more willing to help him. There was a not insignificant community of Crime Alley who were delighted as well as suspicious when Jason was adopted. There was a candlelight vigil held for him after he died since no one got to attend the funeral.

Jason has always had Catherine's smile, and he still does. It's amazing how easy it was for her to pass as his bio mom, if you raise someone long enough they'll eventually start to emulate you. No one ever denied that Jason was Cathy's. No one knew Catherine was pregnant? Some of Jay's traits are... unaccounted for? Nope Jason has the same speech patterns and gets the same look when he's judging someone and has that same light in his eyes when he's reading a particularly good book.

In tribute to them he has a tattoo of a shield surrounded by lilies. The shield is for Willis because in some languages his name means resolute protector, and the lilies are for Catherine because like her name they mean purity.

After moving in with Bruce after finding out Willis died he asked to hold funerals for both of them and they have matching headstones at Gotham cemetery. For Catherine's he chose a Bible quote (Timothy 1:7) and for Willis's he chose a dedication to the only version of Willis he knew (loving father, devoted husband, friend of many, brave till the end). The ceremony was public and the venue was overflowing with people who had known Willis, Jason learned more about his dad than he'd ever known before listening to their memories of him. Ma Gunn was still in jail but when word got back to her she sent a letter to Wayne Manor thanking him, because she might be a hateful old bitch but that was still her son.

[kandisheek]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week 2024

Early Canon Wednesday: July 24th

Prompt: Bring on all those fanworks set in those heady early days of canon where Steve and Tony have just met and are starting to work together.

Aaaah yes, the good old 2012 tower era. We all remember it fondly. (Well, if you're like me and joined the fandom late, you don't, but - whatever. The point stands.) Here are some of my favorite early canon fics:

-- Bond Has It Covered by sara_holmes

Tony thought they had trouble getting along when they were dealing with a major global crisis. Apparently that had nothing on how they fell apart when they weren't distracted by smashing aliens.

-- All These Things I've Said by Dr_Amuly

When Tony starts talking in a language Steve can't understand--the language of science--Steve figures he'll retaliate with a little foreign language knowledge of his own. Only once he starts speaking French around Tony, Steve finds that sometimes it's easier to say what he really wants to say to Tony in a language he can't understand. Good thing Tony doesn't know French.

-- (First Impressions Are) A Work in Progress by ras_elased

Tony has a point system for the times he can get Steve to be less than perfect.

MORE RECS BELOW THE CUT:

-- Drinking Games by kahn

"Okay, house rules,” Clint said, leaning back against the backrest of the booth they were seated at. “It can't be a random celebrity, or something. It has to be someone you actually know. Someone you'd go to if you suddenly found yourself gay and then had to have sex right away." Steve thinks drinking with the team will be a good bonding session for their newest Avenger, but, as usually happens with his people and alcohol, things go kinda sideways.

-- Some Things Shouldn't Be a Chore by scifigrl47

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

-- Theory of Mind by seventymilestobabylon

Or, five things Steve didn't let Tony buy him, and one thing he did.

-- This is Not a Drill by sabrecmc

“Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.  “Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.  “I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started. “Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.” “Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

-- i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that.

And two of my own fics:

-- Cozy

Tony seems to have a propensity to hug Steve whenever he's sleep-deprived. Which would be all well and good, if Steve had any idea why Tony chose him of all people to be his personal teddybear.

-- What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You

Steve and Tony are good friends. Very good friends. The kind of friends that go out to eat every other day, cuddle on the couch and are all up in each others' space. They're not dating though. No matter what the team says. Right?

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

This was a weird experience, so I just wanted to write it out somewhere.

I got tattooed yesterday. That in itself is not weird; I love tattoos, have many, and am no stranger to long sessions and the pain that comes with them. This tattoo was on a whole other level, though. We blasted my entire elbow with color, to connect two larger pieces making up my sleeve. If you have never gotten your elbow tattooed, 0/10, terrible experience, do not recommend. But whatever, beauty is pain, love the design, and the tattoo artist is a friend of mine (who is also related to me by marriage, via my spouse). We spent a good four hours just torturing me, then we finished, and everything was fine. It's normal to feel shaky after multi-hour sessions, so I didn't think much about being kind of out of sorts. After we finished I even walked to the upstairs of the shop to chat with the two girls working up there, then walked back downstairs, and then my artist had me stand still in her room so she could take some photos of the tattoo.

I remember standing there and thinking, "Oh, I feel weird. Oh, I feel really weird - oh, I might actually be about to pass out, I should say something to her." And then I woke up. I opened my eyes, and was staring at the ceiling. I didn't know where I was, I did not recognize my friend (who was standing over me telling me, "It's okay! You're okay! But you passed out and you hit your head - don't move!") but for some reason my brain was convinced that I was in a restaurant, being attended to by a stranger. And my brain also convinced me that this was real life: I was in an unfamiliar restaurant, with no idea how I got there. In my head, my actual, real life was only a dream, and it was one I was waking up from. Everything I had experienced in my life - my family, my job, my marriage, my friend, my hobbies, my goals and my interests - never actually happened to me, and therefore I could never go back to those things and those people that I loved. And in that moment I was struck with a terror so momentous, and a grief that was so profound, that it was like I couldn't breathe. It was absolutely something that altered me as a human being. Slowly, it did all come back. Everything eventually clicked - I remembered where I was, who my friend was, I recognized the other girls who ran downstairs to help me out. I was very shaky, but I was okay. I vaguely remember sitting on the floor while my friend called my husband to come get me - and then it was like my body caught up to the grief that my mind had conjured, and then I started sobbing, like some weird delayed reaction (which wasn't embarrassing at all). My husband came and got me, brought me home, made me dinner, and eventually we went to bed. It's strange, that those lingering feelings of grief are still with me today. And I feel very odd in general (I have an autoimmune disease that always flares up after I get a tattoo, and I have to think that at least some of this is because of that.) So yeah. Tl;dr: elbow tattoos fucking suck, and I passed out in a tattoo studio and gave myself an existential crisis, which was not very punk-rock, black-clad, tattooed maneater of me.