#i need to start tagging my analyses jesus

[akimojo]

I'll forever love serah for deciding to save the future with noel...... not out of obligation or a sense of duty, but because she's taking control of her own life for the first time in 3 (possibly much longer even) years and saving the world is what she wants to do

In the dream world when she has the choice to back down and live peacefully, her wants of being with her family again (fake or not) and saving the future conflicting with each other, she realizes that for the first time in probably her entire life, there are people relying on her because of what she herself set in motion, all as a result of her newfound agency and courage

The old serah would've probably chosen to stay living in the dream, she might’ve preferred the comfort of a fake sanctuary over a grim reality with an unlikely shot at a happy ending, but the new serah isn't content with running away and staying put anymore, she'd rather die going for what she really wants than live a life devoid of true meaning when she could've wanted more

The mirror still being in her room during the fate and freedom paradox ending is representative of that, she may have forgotten all about her journey, but there's something tugging at her, something deeply wrong about her situation that gnaws at her core and leaves her to wonder about what she's missing when she should feel fulfilled, and that feeling scares her

[chaconnewon]

dazed heart — l.hs

pairing: non-idol!heeseung & fem!reader word count: 1.7k tags: friends to lovers (?), masturbation(male recieving), sub(?)heeseung, kind of whipped reader, teasing if you squint, little nipple play, MDNI lmk if i missed something uwu. a/n: it's my first time writing something sort of excplicit, so i aplogise if it is something wrong. don't be afraid to tell me, constructive criticism are welcome !!!

The rain poured endlessly as you watched it fall through the window. Not like you didn’t like rainy days, in fact you loved them but today's plan was going out with your best friend, a little attempt to clear both of your minds, spend time together since your jobs kept you both bussy. But just a few minutes after your arrival at his house, it started raining.

Sure you could do something indoors, but your heart felt suffocated by his presence at his own home, cold weather making it more difficult for you to stay focused.

You have been friends with Heeseung a while ago, a friend from a friend. You were pathetically quick at catching feelings and decided to keep them to yourself. Heeseung was quite flirty with everyone, even you, and you couldn’t help but imagine how sweet his love must feel. Not thinking about anyone else, no other girls around him, just you and him, together. Sharing feelings and soft cuddles.

Sitting at his gaming chair you rubbed your palms above your thighs, chasing some warmth. You regretted putting those shorts on, searching out for a blanket.

‘’Need anything, pretty?’’

Not those pet names again… You looked at him. He was laying on his bed, scrolling through his social media. Heeseung was wearing some pants on top of his knees with a white t-shirt perfectly buttoned. The way his free hand was placed behind his head, gazing you over the screen made you somewhat flutter.

‘’I’m just feeling a little bit cold, but it’s fine.’’

Heeseung put his phone down, looking at you with furrowed brows.

‘’No, it isn’t. Do you need a blanket? Hoodie? Some sweatpants?’’

‘’I’m okay! Really. Don’t worry.’’

‘’Come here.’’

He patted an empty spot near him on his bed. You hesitated for a while. Was it okay to cuddle with friends? Was it okay to cuddle with someone you had strong feelings for? You didn’t want to ruin anything because of your awkwardness or how you could feel after that. The idea of being wrapped around his arms was so tempting, feeling his warm embrace your body, so close to him.

You let out a small sigh, standing from the chair and walking towards the edge of his bed. Heeseung gave you some space as he watched you with a soft smile spreading through his lips. How could you say no to him? He looked so cute when things turned out his way.

Cautiously you made yourself some space, and soon one of his arms was embroiled to your waist, slightly pulling you closer. ‘It’s just to warm up, Jesus’ you thought to yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You just hoped he didn’t notice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. God knew when you could be like this with him again, so you better take that opportunity. Even though you closed your eyes you felt his eyes glued on you.

You tried to act cool, ignoring the glance that made you shiver, but was useless.

‘’Is everything alright?’’

Heeseung took his time to respond.

‘’I just thought you looked very pretty.’’ 

JesusfuckingChrist.

You felt like you stopped breathing, sudden cold sweat running down your back. Was he flirting? Not that you cared but it was a moment sort of… intimate. 

‘’Must be the outfit i choose.’’ He chuckled, shaking his head.

‘’No — I mean always.’’

This time you couldn’t keep yourself together. With some hidden courage you looked up, searching for his gaze but Heeseung was looking at you previously. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed. 

You parted your lips as an intent to say something but nothing came to your mind. It was blank. Was even worse when you caught his eyes analysing your facial expression, your eyes one by one, reaching your lips and back again to your eyes. 

This flirty motherfucker. 

“Heeseung—“

“Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t think twice, taking his offer like your life depended on it. You nodded but before he could make any move, you readjusted your position for a better and comfortable access. 

Taking your time, you slowly made disappear any space between your lips, pressing on them. 

It lasted about a few seconds before Heeseung started to move them softly. There was no rush: his parents weren’t at home, and the heavy rain made the perfect atmosphere. You didn’t doubt before kissing him back, savouring his lips. They were as soft and sweet as you pictured in your head. 

Suddenly, somehow, you took the lead and straddled him, deepening the kiss a bit more. His hands were placed at your waist, caressing them with both thumbs. You broke the union between both mouths to kiss his neck. Hearing his breath hitch gave you the impulse to continue, to work his tender skin with your teeths and tongue. 

As your mouth began to earn soft gasps from him, your hands worked to unbutton his t-shirt. Opening it and slid it through his arms. 

Your lips went down his collarbone, making sure no inch of skin was untouched by your lips. His hand roamed your body, leaving soft sighs against his skin. You couldn’t believe that was happening, like a dream come true.  You were afraid that it was just a lucid dream, your imagination scaring you for leading into such an accurate scenario. But the way his body was softly moving under yours, claiming in silence for more of your touch made you feel more alive than ever. 

Your lips trailed down damp kisses, arriving to catch one of his nipples. You sucked and licked amused by the noises his throat left. Starting to feel aroused, your hips began to rock his, feeling his boner getting hard in no time.

‘’Y/n… ‘’ his lips let out a moan, his hands grabbing your waist.

As his hips were rubbing your clothing core, you detached your lips from him, looking up to meet his gaze.

The image was heavenly. Chest going up and down trying to catch his breath, cheeks with a slight blush on them, and his pleading eyes trying to tell you something, but he was a little bit shy to say it out loud. You could figure it out tho.

Your hands flew to the hem of his pants, looking once again to hip waiting for a response. When he nodded, you hooked the waistband and slowly pulled down. With a bit of his help, the bottoms were forgotten somewhere on the floor.

You couldn’t help but look at his erection, a small damp patch darking his underwear. 

‘’S--Stop looking, it’s embarrassing…’’

You chuckled, shaking your head. 

‘’Says who?’’

And before Heeseung could say anything, you grabbed his shaft around your hand and started to move it up and down. The fabric between his dick and your palm was making the move a bit restricted, but it didn’t stop you.

You saw him grabbing the sheets under both of you, holding back a few moans that were hard to retain. You didn’t want that, you needed to hear him. How good you were making him feel. 

You sped up your pace, making his body squirm as his lips parted to let out soft, kind-of-pitched moans. That kept you going, ignoring the wetness between your legs, just wanting to focus on him.

‘’Please p--please… take…’’

‘’Hm?’’

You knew. Heeseung knew you knew. And he wasn’t having it.

‘’Don’t test me, y/n.’’

‘’Oh? What’s with that tone?’’ you squeezed his tip, earring a loud moan from him. ‘’Watch out.’’

You were having the time of your life, having him at your service and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. Fuck, that submissive trait of him made you hornier. 

‘’I’m sorry just — take it out, please.’’

Enough of making Heeseung suffer. You nodded at his words, hooking the hem of his underwear and pulling down enough for his dick to come out, smacking his abs. Took you a few minutes to resume what you were doing. His tip was covered up with pre cum, so when you slid your hand all the way down, it was smooth.

No slow pace this time, just you jerking off your best friend like it was a usual activity between him and you. And it could be your frequent activity to do more often if he wanted, but now wasn’t the right time to think about that. The way your name left his lips made your head spin.

His eyes were closed, hands holding for dear life into his bed sheets that his knuckles were turning white. Oh, to engrave that image in your brain.

Soon his hips helped you out, bucking into your fist like he was fucking you deep inside. At that point, Heeseung could care less if the neighbours could hear him.

‘’Fuck! Just like that… feels so good.’’

His back was arched a bit, and even your arm was starting to feel numb due the lack of experience, somewhere inside you took strength to continue pleasing him. 

Your hand was moving up and down, the slick noises filling the room as you gave everything to help him reach his highest point. No inch of his dick was left unnoticed, sometimes you slowed your pace reaching his base just for coming back at his tip to stroke it with eagerness. 

Heeseung could feel a knot tighten on his abdomen.

‘’Fuckfuckfuck! D–Don’t stop please…! I’m s–so close!’’

It was fucking tempting to suddenly stop any move, only for him to cry and beg you to continue, that he was feeling so good for you to stop. But you were not that mean, right?

You sped up your pace a little more, all that your aching limb let you. Heeseung was just a few strokes away from release.

‘’God! I’m cumming! K–Keep going I’m cumm—’’

His words lingered in the air as the climax reached him, tensing his body.

As he told you, you kept your pace, helping him through his high. Heeseung’s back was arched, his hot seed dripping down your hand and reaching his abs. Mouth opened as quiet moans left his throat.

Gently, as his cock softened in your hands, you stopped your movements watching him come back to reality. He gave you a tired look but in his lips was a smirk.

‘’That was…’’

‘’...amazing, wasn’t it? I can tell.’’

He laughed, kicking you softly with his knee.

‘’ Wait, let me bring you some towels to clean this mess.’’

You caressed his thigh, leaving towards the bathroom. As you left, Heeseung sighed feeling complete, his heart pounding fiercly inside his chest.

[thinking1bee]

You Haven't Failed Part 9

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Tags: Spidey!Reader, Venom!Reader, So Much Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover @ara-a-bird @alexawynters

Currently, Wanda was with Tony. She pulled him into his lab the moment the jet touched the ground. She needed answers, and it would start with the man who was more in tune with your physiology than she was.

“Is Y/n okay?” he asked her the moment he shut and locked the door to his lab. He could tell that this meeting was dire and confidential.

Wanda shook her head. “Before I found them, I had an alert sent to my phone.”

“Yeah, I got it too! Their entire body?! Were they being tortured?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda answered truthfully. “I just heard their screams and then the comms cut out. By the time I found them, they were wearing this black suit.”

“Black suit?” Tony asked in intrigue, and Wanda nodded.

He’d yet to see it, but he knew that whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t the suit that he left you in.

“Tentacles were coming out of their body.”

At that, Tony’s eyebrows flew up. “Okay, this I have to see.”

He turned towards his computer and booted the software that had been connected to the nanotech. Wanda watched as he clicked on a file. It opened to reveal a video recording. He skipped to the time where he first got the warning message and clicked play. Both Wanda and Tony watched as you hid in the vent, and the moment the alarm went off, you started screaming in pain. Wanda’s face contorted with dismay as she watched you scream. Tony turned his attention to the metrics he read, his eyes taking in your elevated blood pressure and heartrate, but what really made him freeze, was the map of your neural network in your brain. The brain waves increased tenfold, and your entire brain was engulfed in light.

“Jesus,” he exclaimed in a whisper, his eyebrows furrowing at what he saw. “Their entire brain is lit up like a damn Christmas tree.”

Wanda heard what he said, but her eyes were glued to the screen while her arms wrapped around her churning stomach. She never heard you scream like that. It was high-pitched, the volume almost rivaling the alarm in the background. Your pain poured through the microphone and Tony turned it down when it vibrated the speakers. The vent collapsed and she watched as you were thrown to the ground, your body writhing in pain as more agonized screams and sobs left you. Tony turned his attention back to the screen, and they both watched as you begged for it to stop. You kept begging and begging until you roared, your voice changing and warping into something unrecognizable. Wanda and Tony continued to watch the events unfold. The video was from your point of view, so all they could see was flashing concrete as you faced the ceiling. Before the video cut out, they watched as tendrils of black began to crawl across the field of the camera. They started on opposite sides, slithering together like snakes, the tendrils themselves like tiny grotesque fingers, as they moved to meet each other in the middle. The red light of the alarm was gradually snuffed out, piece by piece, and once the camera was completely obstructed, the video ended. Your biometric readings abruptly ended as well. Even the analyses in your brain activity suddenly went dark.

Tony didn’t know what to say. It was quiet in his lab saved for Wanda’s shaky breathing. Tony swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. He was still for a moment more before he turned back to his computer and typed into it again.

“What are you doing?”

“Pulling up readings of their DNA,” he answered as he typed furiously. Wanda quirked an eyebrow.

“Why would you need to see that?”

“Wanda, both Y/n and Peter were bitten by irradiated spiders. Radiation has forcibly changed their DNA,” he said, speaking to her like this should all be obvious. “We’re lucky that all they got were powers. The worst-case scenario, and the one that is more likely to occur, is that the radiation denatures their DNA or completely breaks it down. By all accounts of science, they should have melted.”

Wanda was going to be sick. The picture Tony painted was graphic and horrific.

“Y/n and Peter are scientific miracles. I have FRIDAY sequence their DNA once every 4 months so that I can catch harmful mutations before they become a problem. There’s still a chance that their DNA could break down or that they develop something nasty like cancer.”

Wanda nodded. She understood what he was saying, and she watched as he pulled up a section of readings from earlier today. He scrolled through the complex and slowed down when something black began to wrap around your DNA. Wanda saw it too, and she stepped closer, the disbelief evident on her features.

“FRIDAY can you analyze the anomaly on Y/n’s DNA?” Tony asked.

“Right away, Mr. Stark,” the disembodied voice responded. There was a silence in the lab that lasted a few minutes before FRIDAY spoke again.

“I cannot determine the identity of the anomaly. What I have discovered is that it is organic in nature.”

What the hell...? Tony and Wanda looked at each other, the seriousness of the situation evolving into something critical. For the first time in a while, Tony was stumped, but Wanda was already planning her next steps. She needed answers, and she knew who to talk to, to get them.

***

“I need that asset,” Osborn gritted, his voice hushed as he talked into his phone. “It’s somewhere around here, and we are running out of time. It cannot survive without a host. Find me what I need, or I swear that I’ll make your life a living hell.”

He ended the call before he stepped into his office. He wasn’t paying attention, his nose still buried into the device in his hand, so he didn’t see the body that sat in the chair in front of his desk. When Norman set down his belongings and looked up, he made eye contact with Wanda. She sat easily in his chair, her legs crossed elegantly as a slight smirk spread across her lips. He jumped, a small yelp leaving his lips, his back hitting the glass window behind him before he moved to press the alarm under his desk.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said, the warning in her voice evidently clear. His fingers just grazed the button when he hesitated. She was still smiling, her legs still crossed as she raised her eyebrows at him.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

Wanda shrugged her shoulders, her hands raising as she made a show of looking around. “I walked through the front door.”

Norman pursed his lips, his cheeks turning red before he turned his attention to the multiple panels of security camera footage that recorded his entire building. Everyone was unconscious. Everyone. On every floor, bodies were either hunched over in their desks or collapsed onto the ground, and he hadn’t noticed. He was too engrossed with his phone call, the fear and frustration at his science experiment escaping, that he strode in and took the elevator to the floor of his office without sparing a second glance. Norman turned to look at her, his angry blush rapidly paling in fear. He flopped into his work chair and gulped.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll wake them up the moment I get what I need.”

“What do you want?” Norman whispered.

“Several weeks ago, you came to the Avengers and asked us to take care of a situation that was ‘out of your hands’” she recited as she used air quotes.  

“Yeah, but the Avenger, Spidey I think it was, told me that they didn’t find anything.”

Wanda clenched her jaw and regarded him with slitted eyes. “I actually think it was the other way around.”

“Pardon?”

Norman wasn’t following and he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“I don’t think Spidey found your asset. I think the asset found Spidey,” Wanda clarified.

Norman’s eyes widened before he sat back in his seat. He looked at his desk, his heart thundering in his chest. He wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs before he looked at her nervously.

“What did you have in that lab?” She punctuated her words harshly, her voice stern and her accent more prominent as anger wrapped around the question. “And don’t you dare lie to me Norman Osborn. I will tear your mind apart, piece by piece, to dig the truth from you if I have to.”

All the color leeched from his face at her threat and sweat began to gather on his forehead and upper lip. Wanda looked at him expectantly, her fingers beginning to drum on her thigh as her patience wore thin.

“Several months ago, we retrieved a fallen meteorite. My intentions with it had been to discover anything that could be used to save my sick son from his degenerative disease. We found out that the meteorite wasn’t what it seemed. Inside was…”

He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing as he choked on his words.

“Spit it out!” Wanda snapped, her body leaning forward slightly.

“Inside was an alien.”

“An alien,” she repeated, her voice portraying her disbelief.

“A symbiote,” he clarified. “Whose molecular structure was so spectacular, I thought that I had found a cure for my boy.”

“You infected your son with an alien?”

Norman scoffed and looked away. “You wouldn’t understand. You have no idea what it’s like to have someone you love slowly die right in front of you, and you’re helpless to stop it.”

Actually, Wanda did know. She knew intimately, and many times over, what it was like to lose loved ones, but she had no desire to show any solidarity to the man in front of her. She had more important people to be worried about.

“The answer is no. I did not infect my son with the alien. I ran tests first.”

“And what did you learn from these tests?”

“That at first, the symbiosis appears to be beneficial. The alien will imbue its host with health, strength, and energy. The host will feel good and unstoppable,” Norman explained.

“But?” Wanda prompted.

“The symbiote slowly changes their brain chemistry. It feeds of the emotions of the host to bend them to its will. The affected person will start to act angry. Irrational. They’ll lash out indiscriminately against people as the symbiote takes them over. Eventually, they’ll turn violent as their DNA merges with the symbiote.”

Wanda had uncrossed her legs, her breaths increasing as an ominous atmosphere grew in the room. She moved to sit at the edge of her seat, her hands gripping the arm rests tightly. Her knuckles bled white under her skin from the force of her grip. Everything that Norman outlined, were all things that were happening to you.

“What happens when the DNA merges completely?” Wanda demanded.

“The symbiote will take them over completely. The person you knew will cease to exist.”

Wanda cursed loudly, her Russian slicing through the air as she stood to her feet.

“If the symbiote has your friend, they’re in trouble. Mix their powers with the limitless abilities of the symbiote, you’re going to have one hell of a time separating them from each other.”

“They can be separated?”

At that, Norman went quiet. Wanda approached his desk and leaned over it, placing her hands on the flat surface. He shrunk into his seat when her eyes glowed a bright red.

“Yes, but the separation can cause the host extreme harm. It can even kill them.”

Wanda stood straight and pinched the bridge of her nose. With every new detail learned, the situation was getting worse and worse.

“How can I beat this thing?”

“It doesn’t like loud noises,” he answered. “The sound has to ring. It has to be dissonant and sharp. It must resonate. A bell. The sharp clang of metal against metal.”

Wanda stepped away from him, her eyes fading back to a steely green, and she turned away and walked out of his office.

“How are you going to trap it?!” Norman called after her. “It cannot be contained without having its meteor or a vacuum sealed cannister!”

She didn’t answer him. That wasn’t even Wanda’s primary concern. She needed to quickly get back to you and she whipped out her phone to call Tony. Through the cameras, Norman watched as she strutted out of the front door, and the moment she crossed the threshold, she raised her hand and waved it with the simple turn of her wrist. He saw the wave of red leave her palm, and as it washed over the building, Norman watched as the people inside began to wake up.

Part 10

[cata-daily]

[Wall of Text]

About doodles, Cata design, Pass the World/Player Animatic

Oh yea! Cata posted my Demon Hearts fanart as a community post, like, a day ago! (Thankies :D) And of course yt doesn't give notifications for community posts, so I saw it 20 hours later!

The design has changed quite a bit since, especially since I realised that his mask is NOT, in fact, a plague doctor mask.

"FUCK HAVE I BEEN DRAWING A PLAGUE DOCTOR MASK THIS ENTIRE TIME auughjdshjmh i need to analyse this man's vanity under a microscope and make an actual design" -Me

I considered doing another bunch of doodles for other series, but never really got around to it. I have a few ideas written down for 8 player calamity and death games, but not enough, or ehh yeah, I decided to start with PtP.

I realise nobody's going to see any of this until I'm well into summer break, so might as well say it; I started working on an animatic of Cata's segment of Throarbin's Pass the World video on April 7th because I just kept rewatching it. The 3 and a half minute long insanity of it, oh my god, he talks so fast. I was looking through the comments because I realised Cata replied to a bunch of them, and the one by @ TheNerdyBox, "Holy shit catacylsmic is autism incarnate jesus christ" absolutely sent me, I think that's hilarious.

I may put updates on that here too if I get back to working on that sometime. So far I have the start through TheTerrariaYoutuber's "ehh, yanno, it's okay", and then from "after looking through..." to "got stuck in a bloody wall". Yes I have transcripted it all out correctly (I love doing that. Ay, I'm just saying, I like listening to British people talk. At one point I had a concerning amount of Wheatley Portal 2 lines memorised).

When I'm done (if I ever finish) I'll probably make a google doc or just put it here, and explain the little details in each frame because I like doing that. I nearly went down the rabbit hole of trying to animate the exact damage and timing of him killing WoF for that part, and got a bunch of the same gear in Terraria before realising my defense didn't line up and I had no idea what the modifiers on all the accessories was. Also cursed flame debuff was a nope.

While I'm here writing a wall of text, might as well mention that I have somehow encountered the words "cataclysmic", "armageddon", and "Nuclear option" in places completely unrelated to Cata, one of which was irl actually. And those, imo, are pretty uncommon words

This has started the tag #Wall of Text has awoken!, and I think that's accurate. Only super long ones that I think warrant it will be tagged as such. Thank you for reading my ramblings :)

[honey-im-hotdog]

You Miss Me? 

Slade Wilson x reader 

Author’s Note: THIS IS THE THIRD DAMN TIME I AM POSTING THIS THING BECAUSE THIS HELL SITE FUCKING SUCKS AND WOULDN’T SHOW THIS IN THE TAGS THANKS ASSTRASH!! Anyways, hope you enjoy!

As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: I may be into dilfs, what about it? Fluffy! Also some mildly suggestive shit but it’s not much so this is relatively sfw (but minors please don’t interact still), there is a height thing but I tried reeaally hard to make it so you can be any height and you’ll still fit in (just keep in mind that Slade is supposed to be and seem huge), swearing, and my ungodly obsession with italics…

Summary: He comes home from an assignment and it almost leads to your death. :)

——————————— 

Gif isn’t mine, I got it from Deviantart but I can’t link it, I’m sorry :(

A groan of frustration leaves your parted lips, your neck aching from being arched for so long.

Slade Wilson—Deathstroke, the Terminator, world’s deadliest assassin—has the ability to analyse any and every situation, and be prepared at an ungodly speed. But what’s the damn point if he doesn’t think to get a fucking ladder that’s tall enough to reach the stupid light fixtures!

The light has been flickering for the past week, and as it’s one in a set of three, you couldn’t really leave it off. So here you are, on your tippy-toes, trying to screw the bulb into place. It really shouldn’t have taken you this long to change one lightbulb!

You huff out a breath and hype yourself into pushing up just a little further and getting through this last leg. You let out some of that frustration by panting out in a strained voice, “Jesus. Fucking. Christ. On a. Flamingo. I swear. I’m going to. Kick. His balls. In!”

Ahh, yes! Finally! You drop down from your tippy-toes so your feet are flat on the step, body slightly bent over as you release the breath you’ve been holding in.

“I would make a ‘how many Y/Ns does it take to change a lightbulb?’ joke, but…”

The yelp that bundles out of your throat is undignified, and so is the way you hang on to the top of the ladder like an octopus.

A deep chuckle rings out from behind you.

“What the hell, eye patch?! Are you blind?” you whip your head around and glare down at the silver haired jerk, who snorts at you in return. “I could have fallen off and cracked my neck and died! You want that? You want me to be added to your list of kills?” You finally start lowering yourself from the top.

Slade pushes himself off the wall he’s been leaning against and moves towards you. “I would’ve caught you. Superhuman speed and all that, remember?” he replies smoothly in that deep, deep voice, throwing in an easy-going shrug.

You stop a couple steps from the ground and turn around with your arms crossed, the height making you taller than him. You hope it gives your glare any sense of menace, though that’s probably wishing for too much when it comes to this absolute machine of a man. You also need to give your poor neck a break. “Still, that won’t make you a knight in shining armor, Colonel Sanders. You still put my life in danger,” the smile in your voice is barely repressed, you’re too happy to see him after his two-week assignment. Besides, you love calling him by different names.

Slade hums whilst moving his hands to your hips, “I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, huh? I can think of a few things that’ll win you over.” The wink he ends with finally breaks your smile free.

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, “I guess you’ll just have to, Waldorf.” He rolls his eyes at the name and you pull him in for a kiss. It’s sweet and slow, both of you savoring the feeling of being so close to the other after so long.

You’re the first to pull back, voice breathy and the grin beaming across your face, “hi.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” his voice uncharacteristically soft and face centimeters away. “You miss me?”

“Probably more than I should have,” you snicker. You could have given him a truly sarcastic reply, but you like how soft he’s being, it fills your chest with a warmth that sends your stomach flipping pleasantly.

He bumps his nose against yours with a smile peeking from the corners of his mouth. “Mmm,” he moves his face down and buries it in your neck, “I missed you, too.”

As if it was possible, your smile grows wider, the warmth spreads to your whole body, and now your stomach is straight up kickflipping. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him right behind his ear, “why don’t you go grab a shower and I’ll get started on an early dinner, hm?”

“Or,” he plants a sweet kiss on your collarbone and brings his head up, a mischievous grin on his handsome face, “you could join me in the shower, and we’ll order take out later tonight.” Though, he doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he’s whisking you into his arms and moving towards the bathroom.

You bellow out a quick laugh before he captures your lips for a deep kiss.

When you get to the bathroom, he sets you onto the counter gently. With your hands now cupping his jaw and voice filled with adoration, you quietly say, “I love you, Slade.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” his smile relaxed and open.

[loganslowdown4]

One Last Time!

Our final side! OR IS IT??

My breakdown of REMUS from the Anniversary Special!

This one is going to be short and sweet (or gross, however you see Remus lol)…

So, right. Of course we start with Remus pointing at his ass and calls it Roman. Well. Jesus. 🤭

Heyyyyyy finally find out where his emblem is!!! Yay us! Someone called it, who was it that called his emblem was gonna be there? 😂😂

If Roman’s best side is his face, Remus’ best side is his…

No but actually, Remus tells the truth, that’s one quality you can count on him for. And he LOVES his butt. So you could argue if he calls his butt Roman and calls it his best side, it’s an indirect compliment to his brother 🤣

Before he was sprayed with ‘anti-spoiler spray’ (by Janus, so Jan is pulling the strings on Remus too) he said that c!Thomas has a big storm coming. This is exactly what Virgil said. COINCIDENCE? No. But we can glean from this that Remus is hinting that Virgil may have something to do with the finale. Virgil is the storm cloud after all.

Also Remus is way too excited for what’s coming so you know it’s going to be BAD

Also confirmed! Anything random and out of character Roman has said is confirmed to be Remus ‘subliminal messaging’ his brother haha

It’s funny that Remus brings up the Mind Palace. I almost feel like they may go back to the Mind Palace at some point. Maybe they’ve figured out a way to deal with the echo issue?

Remus is drinking the anti-spoiler soap and giving himself a horrible allergic reaction. Meaning he’s actually actively trying not to spoil anything (either for c!Thomas because it’ll hurt him more if it’s a surprise, or for us because he actually wants us to be surprised)

Aside from the vibrators joke, I think that Remus actually eventually wants acceptence and praise. He might cover his feelings with dirty humour, a lot of people do this as a defence mechanism. He is a part of Thomas after all and one day, as Logan said, Thomas will need Remus in a helpful capacity. So how Remus is viewed will have to eventually change.

And there we have it!

Thank you so so much for reading all my analyses on the anniversary special! If you missed a side, I have the links below!

I think in conclusion, we can glean that there are a lot of unresolved issues with every side and communication is severely lacking between them. Lies of omission abound. And we have a huge, possibly orange, problem coming in the season finale. All issues that have been building up over the last 4 years is going to come to an explosive head.

Can’t wait to see it!

Check out the previous sides!

Logan Patton Roman Virgil Janus

Tagged: @lordiedams

[pugh-bug]

Scott Lang x reader slow burn Chapter 10

Warnings: none really just more angst and swearing but less than last week because i wanted to do a more light hearted chapter (this is just that by my standards lmao) I hope you enjoy … there is going to be smut VERY soon

The last week had been harder to manage than any ‘villain’ or threat to humanity that your friends had faced. Of course the physical and global destruction was lacking but your heart felt broken beyond repair. It had been a fucking disaster from start to finish and was not getting much better.

‘Come on Y/N, it’ll be okay.’

But Thor was wrong, it wasn’t. You had had to form a set of strict rules to get through each day. Number 1 (pretty obvious) :avoid Scott like the plague. Number 2: drink less and Number 3: try and stop crying over IT. None of them were proving easy and not at all fun but they did make you look a little less unhinged to your friends. Of course Thor and Tony knew how upset you were with Nat not far behind. The constant sympathetic ‘poor you’ looks were growing patronising and getting old. If they couldn’t treat you like a stable person how could you act like one?

Contact with Scott had been incredibly brief and tense to say the least. You just missed him. Who were you meant to fool around with? Who was going to hold your hand while you slept or make fun of Parker or drive you home to keep you safe? When you were alone and closed your eyes you could hear him: ‘I’m sorry if I’ve lead you on in anyway.’ But by Friday it didn’t make you cry anymore to recall it. It wasn’t sad it was frustrating. ‘Lead you on’ of course he’d lead you on and you wanted to call him out for it. Call him what your heartbroken self wanted to, a-

‘Prick!’

It was Monday: Thor’s weekly game night with ‘Noobmaster69’ and he was losing. Horrifically. Asgardians weren’t exactly fond of losing and there was, you had to admit, a lot of joy in witnessing someone so powerful fail so badly. Well you had to find relief in something. Although you did have one thing to be proud of: finally washing your greasy hair only to hear Peter singing as he got out. And you didn’t poke any fun at him because Scott wasn’t there to hear.

After deciding to stay on the couch with Thor, watching him being competitive, you continued your silent ‘soul searching’ that was so tiresome. You had become an expert on analysing every Scott interaction you had and without new ones to ‘study’ you were spent. Bored. Bored of waiting for nothing. Occasionally, you’d press pause on your self pitying to smile at Thor. Being so preoccupied with Scott had made you more neglectful of his friendship. All of your friendships really. You couldn’t remember the last long conversation you’d had with Tony that wasn’t about Scott.

‘Die! Die! Oh come o-ah Scott!’

You tried not to turn to look but it was unavoidable. Scott was stood beside the tv all of a sudden, looking dishevelled and out of place. It had been torture not to ask anyone and everyone what exactly he’d been doing the last week. ‘He’s out.’ ‘No ones seen him much today.’ ‘I dunno, maybe he’s partying.’ Fucking torture to hear. Although it was probably best he was out doing ‘things’ and away from you. At least you wouldn’t have to try and make eye contact without fighting tears. Except for that night. Of course he had to be in that night.

‘Thor…Y/N.’ Scott was almost worse than you for subtlety, his green eyes darted from Thor gaming happily to your pained eyes. And his were pained too. There was a guiltiness pressing down on him but Nat would have thought that was good. You didn’t want to be awkward around him or continue this ‘avoiding each other at all costs’ thing so you tried to end it the best way you knew how.

‘Did you hear Peter’s singing?’

It was the first thing you’d said to Scott that wasn’t ‘er’ or ‘hi’ in so long you could see relief wash over him. And you felt it wash over you in a smooth satisfying wave because his reply was:

‘Yes! It was Britney, so I had to listen.’

You both laughed, still feeling the need to to stay on opposite sides of the room for safety reasons. Thor looked amused for a moment but was invested in his game. Sweet.

‘Well,’ you leaned across the couch craving your neck closer to Scott. ‘If you like Britney maybe we should have a 00s themed party!’ Was it out of pocket? Probably. Did it feel forced to say? Yes. Did Scott look confused? Absolutely but he played along for both your sakes. It felt silly to suddenly be discussing pop star icon: Britney Spears to the man you’d been crying so heartedly over for so long. You couldn’t help feeling that he knew this wasn’t the two of you going back to ‘normal’. Not really. You had admitted far too much to ever have a ‘normal’ friendship. However it was a start.

‘Can the two of you discuss whatever nonsense Britney Spears is somewhere else?’ Thor looked as annoyed as you could be over something unimportant. Still the two of you shared a look meaning ‘Let’s leave him to it’ and walked together out of the living room. It didn’t hit you that this was the first time you had been alone with Scott since the car ‘incident’ until Nat saw you both and walked away.

‘Wow.’ You both scoffed at his strong words against Britney. ‘To speak of our lord and saviour in such a distasteful way.’ Scott dramatically put his hand on his heart and ‘fell’ backwards in agreement. ‘The horror!’ He exclaimed before you both chuckled.

‘Hey guys?’ It was Peter and he looked confused at the sight of you and Scott laughing. But who wouldn’t be after all the avoiding? You were just as confused as a participant. ‘Everyone’s kind of busy and I wanted to see B-‘

‘Back to the future playing in IMAX yes I’ll take you.’ The look in Peter’s face- bless him- he looked so pleased. Such a child. ‘Pff.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a dad Scott had just become (and the twisted part of you brain did find it a bit hot).

‘There’s a showing at 2:45-‘

‘Right. Well we’ll go to that one.’

‘Um,’

Whilst Scott was buying tickets he didn’t notice Peter’s anxious eyes flitting towards you in hopes you would offer to come. The truth was you didn’t know if one brief Britney discussion guaranteed an invite. It didn’t seem like enough but Peter looked concerned for you. Did he not want to be alone with Scott or did he not want you to feel left out? Which was it?

Your eyes moved from Peter’s to Scott’s but he chose not to give a verbal response so you let it be. ‘Enjoy yourselves,’ you smiled, overly enthusiastic as you walked away backwards. Something that didn’t escape your notice as you left was the sign of relief from Peter. There was your answer.

Mirroring Peter you let out a sign of your own, that Scott probably heard, and went to your room- but not before passing Wanda. ‘What’s wrong?’ Before you could think of a response she grinned and grabbed your hand. ‘Tony’s taking us to his pool. He’s had it redone- come on let’s go, come with us.’ Hmm. Swimming. Interactive. But she looked so excited- bless her- so you caved and returned her smile before getting changed.

Less than 15 minutes later you were sat in the passenger seat of Tony’s favourite car (you’d called shotgun of course) listening to Eminem. Poor Wanda was crammed in between Sam and Thor behind you, probably wishing she had just flown there. ‘Sam why couldn’t you have flown- to make room for Wanda?’ You asked. ‘I’m not gonna risk getting them wet. Do you know how difficult they are to re-‘

‘Look at her she’s squished though.’

‘I’ve not had enough sleep for this.’

‘I’m not arguing with you I’m just say-‘

‘Children children!’ Tony commanded the car, to no ones surprise. ‘This is not about flying. This is about getting Y/N to cheer up and for all of you to appreciate my architectural skills.’ He was driving over the speed limit but who was going to tell Tony to slow down? The man was overly caffeinated and overly theatrical.

Another 15 minutes later and you were in the ridiculously fancy changing rooms Tony had had built. ‘Why did you build so many if it’s private?’ You yelled over the door.

‘It was a strange week! Inspiration struck!’

Thor seemed to be struggling with the term ‘modesty’ because-

‘Jesu- fuck! PUT PANTS ON!’

The sound of Wanda being flashed by a God was enough to make you almost pee from laughing. They were all such children. That was a clear explanation for why you had admired Scott as soon as you’d met him. Yes he was silly but he’d actually been married. He was mature in other ways. You tried not to picture him in the cinema with Peter because what did you have to be jealous of? Peter was still dating MJ as far as you knew and Scott saw him the same way you did. You still wanted him there with you all even if it was going to be uncomfortable.

And then sadness clung itself to you like a rope with no slack. You forgot why you were even where you were in the first place. Why had you come? Oh for Wanda. But Tony said this was to cheer you up? You’d even forgotten how to swim properly, it had been so long. It had been too long since anything normal.

Tags: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod

[thewrittingworldofeva]

"God or Gods, does it matter?" PART 13

The base of the story :

“York is envied by the vikings and during the battle Ivar sees a Saxon girl fight with one of his warriors. The protagonist has a brother with the same disease as Ivar.”

Ligeia arrived at their settlement. She looked around her, making sure that she knows her surroundings. She was technically on the enemy side, everything can happen. Especially because she is a foreigner. She hides her anxiety, with a confident walk and a neutral face. They bring her under a little tent and give her a cup of ale. She hesitates at first, but finally, grabs the drink. “You can sit.” Offers Lagertha sitting in front of her. She doesn’t argue and sits. “Why did you want to talk to me?” Questioned Ligeia straight forward. “I know Hedda Shewolf, your mother.”

Ligeia’s heart starts beating fast. She hopes for years to know more about her mother's history, but, that was too dangerous in England because of where she is from. “How can I believe you?” Even so, she was thrilled with excitement, she was also very suspicious, that can a ruse. “She was my best friend. I grew up with her.” Announced Lagertha, smiling at the memories. “She was a great warrior and very smart. But also very curious, putting herself in danger!” Ligeia smiles, remembering exactly these qualities of her mother. “My ex-husband, knows her too, Ragnar. We were inseparable.” She continued her story, taking a sip. “Then she met this priest Treader. Curious about his faith, she questioned him every day he was here.” Lagertha laughs, making Ligeia chuckle.

Bjorn, Ubbe, and Torvi were listening silently. Bjorn has the chance to meet the woman before she left. “Obviously, they fell in love, deeply. I never see a man looking at her like he was looking at her. And that was the same for her. So, it’s natural that when he has to leave, she has decided to go with him.” Knowing that her parents were deeply in love, and her mother having the courage to leave her country for a man, is beautiful. “She was an incredible shield-maiden. Fierce, brave, and wise. She prevents us to make a useless man loss. I can see that you have that of her.” The queen finishes, looking at the brown hair girl. “And I don’t understand, why you are fighting with Ivar.”

Ligeia looked at the liquid in her cup. She sighs and raises her head. “He invades York. I kill one of his men when I tried to run away with my little sister. He saw the fight and he sends men to find me. He takes my siblings and me as prisoners. I am just protecting my siblings, you need to understand that.” Acknowledged Ligeia looking at everyone. “They are all that I have, I can’t lose them. They are the reason I am still alive.” She vouched with emotions. Bjorn looked at her taking her fully. She was tired but deeply sad. She didn’t have the time of grief. She grew up too fast, taking responsibilities to a younger age. “You just want to protect them, that honorable.” He said softly, meeting her eyes for the first time. Intense and unique. Deep down, he knows that she will be the reason for their salvation. The end of this war.

The morning after, Bjorn brings her back to the field that they were yesterday. She slides down the horse and starts walking. “Ligeia.” He called her. She turns herself, waiting for him to continue. “Please, try to resonate with him.” He begged. She looked down a second, feeling the weight on her shoulder. “I see what I can do. But I can’t promise you anything.” She says. “I know, but that’s enough for me.” She said goodbye with a slight movement of the head and make her way to her settlement. A few meters away from the camp, the guards start screaming: “Someone approaching!” Men's starts to get agitated thinking this is an enemy. One of them alerts Ivar and Harald. Ivar grabs his crotch and gets out of his tent. He approaches the entrance of the settlement. He immediately recognizes her. The little, human sea, let her pass, she stands in the face of Ivar. “Where are they?” Demand Ligeia. He quickly analyses her face and body, to find no scratches. “In my tent.” He informed her. She bypasses him and goes straight to his tent.

Dinner time arrived, the night as settled, Ligeia has taken off, the heavy pieces of her armor. Rosalia on her lap, she tried to braid her hair. “Rosi stop moving! I can’t braid your hair if you are moving!” She giggles at her little sister. “But I want to hug you!” Cries blondie. “I know, but if you stop moving, I will be already done and you can hug me.” Rosalia stops moving and Ligeia can swiftly braid her hair. “Done!” She announced. Rosalia turns herself, encircles Ligeia's waist with her legs, and rests her head on Ligeia’s neck. Enveloping her little body with her arms, she strokes her back and puts a kiss on top of her hair.

Closing her eyes, she hums a lullaby. Apollo lays on the small bed, was holding hands with Ligeia. Relaxes, he closes his eyes too and falls asleep. Ivar walks in the direction of the three siblings' tent, he enters without announcing himself and froze when he sees the picture in front of him. The love between brother and sisters, true and pure love. Ligeia is still humming, didn’t hear him coming. He clears his throat. Ligeia opens her eyes and looks towards the entrance, and finds Ivar standing there. He doesn’t need to talk, that she understands that he wanted to talk to her. She puts Rosalia on the bed, next to Apollo and covers their bodies with a blanket. She goes out of the tent, followed by the Viking.

“Help me takes them off.” He says, sounding more like an order. She agrees and followed him. Walking next to him, she may observe that everyone was looking at her. She didn’t know if that was because she was walking with their leader or just because of her. Entering his tent, she realizes that she is in his intimacy. She felt trapped. He sits on the edge of his bed, looking at her. Hesitant she takes small steps. She kneeled and starts to undo his mental splints. A grimace of pain, twisted his face when her legs are free. Whiteout asking any questions, she starts massaging his legs, like she does for her brother. Ivar’s body tenses a little, not used by someone touching his legs.

“What did she tell you?” He couldn’t hold it anymore, he needs to know. “Nothing about you, sorry.” She said looking at him through her eyelashes. He grabs her by her shirt and pulls her violently towards him. His other hand holds her by the back of her neck, their noses brushing against each other. Holding herself on his shoulder, fear flashed in her eyes. “What did she tell you?” He separates every word harshly. “Answer me.” He groans, tightening his grip. “We talked about my mother.” She doesn’t control the tears that filled her eyes. Ivar’s face softens a second. “She knew my mother and wanted to talk about her. That’s all.” He releases her and she gets far away from him, massaging her neck.

The hatred in her eyes, break his heart. And he doesn’t know why, that bothers him that she looks at him like this. She turns her back and walks to the exit, but she froze. She decides to face him. “This is stupid!” She screams. “Your war is stupid! You are going to sacrifice a hundred of man’s life for something that happened years ago. They love you and you didn’t even see it, because you are stuck with your little person!”

“She killed my mother!” He responds raising his voice. “He killed my parents!” Now she is yelling, tears streaming down her face. She never cried this that day, she didn’t grief, she didn’t take the time to mourn. “He killed them, and I have to see him every day without being able to do anything! Your mother wasn’t a saint, she knows what she was doing when she seduces your dad. So, stop putting her on a pedestal.” She was furious that he was ready to lose his brothers, his family, for revenge. This is ludicrous. “What did you know about my mother, uh?” He added, annoyed that she dares talking about his mother. “People like to talk Ivar! But Hvitserk and I had a discussion about it.”

Silenced fell inside the tent. Her chest rising up and down. Jesus, she wanted to smack his face to put his brain in place. “This war can be avoided and you know that! But, shit, you are so fucking stubborn!” Tight jaws, breathing from his nose, he tried to control himself and not hurt her. “You should be careful with your words! You seem to forget who you are talking to.” He threatens her with a hollow voice. She sees red, a cold air washing her body. She gets closer and almost collides her forehead against his. “Kill me then! I am not scared of you. Kill me! But let me tell you something, you will have to explain it to Apollo and Rosalia. And of course, you will have to take care of them, because this is your fault that they are far away from their home.” She quickly goes out and opens furiously the curtain.

Her words, turning in his mind. She was right, but he didn’t want to see it. To see that this war is ridiculous. That this was his anger speaking. Landing one foot outside, she empties the air from her lungs, then taking a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, she felts like she was observed. She turns her head to her right and finds Heahmund, looking at her. Her hands ball into fists and she leaves rapidly. She moves away from the camp, she finds a quiet place. Her hands start shaking, her eyes starting to get flooded with tears. She broke down and burst into tears. She fell on her knees in a dying cry. Painful to hear. Astrid looked at her from afar, it broke her heart to hear a cry.

tags : @youbloodymadgenius @al-lwiisa @otakufrenchfries @funmadnessandbadassvikings @akaward-potato@heavenly1927

[potatowitch]

18, 21, 22 for the writing asks!

18 - how do what you look for in your own writing vs someone else’s coincide? how does your writing influence your reading?

i've been inadvertently reading-to-write since i was about ... idk, 15? i started doing it when i was learning how to do analyses of books, and it just sort of carried over into me picking up things like "ooh, i like that word use there" "i like that structure" "how does this passage build up The Vibes?" etc etc. i'm doing it without even thinking at this point - i'll be reading published novels and go "hm, i'd have used a different speech tag here," as if i'm at all qualified to think that lmao.

i do look for basically the same things in my own writing, but i tend to miss a lot more, considering i'm the one who has to produce it and look at it over and over, whereas with other people's writing is usually something i'm seeing for the first time, so things stand out more to me.

21 - what are the most important facets of creating a character, to you?

jesus, this is a weird one for me, considering i basically only write canon characters and OCs who are made with certain constraints from the games they're in. i need to figure out how people speak, first and foremost, and i need to know how someone close to them perceives them in important moments - when they're fighting, are they graceful or feral, for example. those are the things i need to nail first so that i can keep them consistent.

22 - how much of your own self/experiences do you believe pours into your projects? if this differs per project, which projects have the most and least of you?

not as much as you'd think, really. my smut, for example, basically only reflects what i find hot in smut - none of it is based on my own experiences, considering said experiences are uh. none. there's none of them. descriptions of feelings like panic or disorientation are usually kinda personal to me, so if you've read a work of mine where i hit on those then congrats! you probably know what it feels like for me to dissociate. environmental stuff is the most personal for me - the way things smell and feel, the heaviness or sharpness of the air, that kind of thing. i feel A Lot, considering i have a lot of sensory weirdness going on, so i tend to pick up on those things.

[thewintermusketeer]

This started off as a little reddie drabble to cheer up @skinks , based off her tags and thirsting for bill hader, particularly inspired by this post. It’s now over 1.5k and I absolutely did not read it over before punting it off to my love @benevolentbridgetroll to look over, so if this makes sense it is only due to her help.

Disclaimer: I have not seen the movie/read the book/am not part of this fandom so this is purely based of the SCU (skinks cinematic universe).

They’ve been couch shopping. Of all the things, that’s the catalyst. If Eddie were a pessimist (which he’s not, he’s just sensible, Christ, Richie, it is literally my job to think about worst case scenarios) then he’d say the whole ‘being stabbed in the face and then stabbed again in an even more vital area, in a manner commonly called impaling’ had messed with his judgement. However, that would imply that something else is messing with his reasoning, and Eddie has been through enough therapy by now to understand exactly which thoughts and behaviours are his own. And this? Unfortunately, this is all Eddie.

Anyway, the issue is that Richie sat on a couch. A couch that they were buying together, because they live together. They live together, and they cook together (or rather Eddie tries to cook healthily, and then when he ruins it Richie makes something with far too much fat and salt in it, that’s still better than take out at least). They go shopping for groceries together. They’re the most boring middle-aged couple in the world, and yet neither of them have actually got the balls to call themselves one. They both know there’s something there. Something hanging in the space between them, important words swallowed behind more and more insults because Eddie never thought he’d feel like he’d die if he didn’t hear another ‘yo mama’ joke. It was strong enough for Eddie to move to Florida with Richie, to get away from New York and Myra, even if the latter was something he’d have done anyway, as soon as his memories started coming back. But it’s still unsaid. Not acted upon.

And Eddie is pretty sure they’d have stayed like that for a while longer, in a holding pattern made comfortable by the fact it’s not comfortable; Richie pushes him, dares him and goads him like he did when they were children, and Eddie still can’t believe he forgot how it feels to want to shove Richie right in his stupid square face, even as he can’t stop laughing. Richie makes him feel like life is actually worth living, and not something to be calculated and analysed and rationed. Of course, Richie also makes him feel fucking horny. Which is exactly the problem.

Richie sat on a show couch – and Eddie doesn’t even want to think about how many other fucking people have been near that thing – and Eddie barely stopped himself from crawling onto his lap right there in the shop and jerking off onto his shitty logo t-shirt. He was wearing converse for Christ’s sake. Shoes that provide no fucking ankle or arch support. No forty-year-old man should look sexy wearing converse and a baseball cap. And yet Eddie wanted to measure the exact diameter of Richie’s chest using his thighs. Maybe years of being called a loser and a square had sunk in, subliminally, because the fucking stupid rectangular breadth of Richie’s chest had made Eddie feel crazy.  He wanted to be wrapped up in Richie’s gorilla arms, wanted to feel the gentle scratch of his arm hair against his own bare skin. Wanted to watch the clench of Richie’s hands against the back of the sofa if Eddie dropped to his knees in front of him, telling him not to touch his fucking hair until he’d washed his hands, Jesus Christ. Wanted to see if Richie would laugh during sex, as well.

But he didn’t. Instead they bought the couch, after he’d checked the fire regulations. He had left the shop with Richie, who’d slung one arm around his shoulders, and the weight of his arm, the warmth of him against Eddie’s side, was as reassuring as it was a turn-on.

“Guess we’re parents now, Eds. Or, we will be when our bouncing baby boy gets delivered next week.” Eddie feels the laugh building in Richie’s chest before he even speaks. “I’m so glad you kept your figure though, babe, a couch that big must’ve been murder on your hips.”

“You’d know all about bad hips, fuck face, or am I imagining the old man complaining I heard this morning?” Eddie would say he’d replied on autopilot, but a larger portion of his brain than he liked to admit was always focused on Richie, like a radio that always tuned back to one station.

“It’s not my fault your mom rode me so hard last night, is it?”

Eddie hadn’t been able to stop his snort. Forty fucking years old and the same joke was still funny. He’d looked out the corner of his eyes at the dumb smile Richie was sporting, all because he’d made him laugh. Richie needed a shave and stepping outside the air conditioned shop was enough to make his glasses steam up a bit, but it hadn’t stop Eddie’s raging, improbable thoughts about the line of his jaw beneath the stubble, about how he wanted to turn it into a slip n’ slide with his dick. About how he wanted to feel the bob of his Adam’s apple fucking massaging Eddie’s armpit, or something. 

Eddie hadn’t even realised they’d reached the car until Richie’s arm left his shoulders as he walked round to the passenger door. But now he was here, sat in the driver’s seat of the car – of course I’m fucking driving Richie, you drive at about 100 miles an hour even though you get car sick – sweat drying on his skin as the A/C blew, unable to tear his eyes away from the long, be-denimed legs that were currently folding themselves into the car. The slight jolt of the car’s suspension as Richie settled the breadth of his shoulders against the seat felt like it went straight to Eddie’s dick.

Fuck it. Fuck this ‘unsaid thing’ bullshit. Fuck pussyfooting around, when the two of them already share a life together. Fuck Richie Tozier in particular, and hopefully fucking soon.

“What’s wrong? Have I got something on my face? I don’t think I do, I’ve been told that that’s unfortunately just how my face is.” Richie’s eyebrows look like they’re attempting to perform the macarena with the kind of enthusiasm only seen at an eight year old’s birthday party when cake time is announced. Eddie wants to lick them.

“Should I get a cool face scar? I mean you’re really pulling it off - ” Eddie cuts Richie off with his mouth. He was aiming for Richie’s lips but he’ll take the chin he gets, mouthing openly, the stubble stinging his lips.

“Wha-” Richie gets out, more an exhalation of air that Eddie feels against his face. He steals Richie’s next breath, kissing him properly, one hand leaning across to brace him against Richie’s thigh. One of Richie’s hands comes up to cradle his face and fuck, Eddie wants it to never leave his body, wants it on his face and his neck and his legs and his back, and to hold it with their fingers interlaced like a promise. Richie pulls back just far enough to press a kiss to the scar on his cheek and Eddie feels like he might cry.

Instead, he says, “I love you. Dickwad.” The insult is tacked on the end almost as an afterthought, because for all it’s funny to insult each other, Eddie wants Richie to know how serious he’s being. The problem is that the moment feels too serious. They’re in their own little bubble in the car, but Eddie is still acutely aware of the people walking past on the other sidewalk, can hear the sounds of traffic. He suddenly wishes it was just the two of them, back in the home they’re making together with their terrible decorating choices and the orthopaedic mattress Eddie is now hoping they’ll be sharing.

Richie’s face turns soft. “I wanted to say it first, asshole. Always stealing my thunder. I can’t have anything in this relationship. Didn’t even get to choose our anniversary date.”

Eddie tightens his grip on the thigh beneath his hand, sliding his fingers down onto Richie’s inseam; Richie’s legs spread gratifyingly fast, and Eddie can’t help but lean back in for another kiss. Richie seems to be trying to suck his tongue into his mouth this time, and he can’t help but be extremely into it. They’re only interrupted by a honk from a passing car, and Eddie is reminded again that getting home is a good idea. He separates himself from Richie reluctantly and fastens his seat belt, raising an eyebrow at Richie until he does the same. He starts the engine, but just before he prepares to pull out the parking space he considers Richie’s last statement.

“You can decide our anniversary if you propose. Of course, your mom might get there first, but if you think about exactly what you want do to when we get back to the house, it might net you preferential treatment.”

Richie looks a bit dazed. “You want a list, baby? I can do that, Mr Sexy Analyst. Alphabetical?”

The look Eddie levels him is particularly judgemental. He cannot believe he’s about to fuck this man. “Chronological, moron.”

“Anything you want, Eds.”

Eddie doesn’t think Richie knows exactly how long that list is. He’s looking forward to finding out himself.

[marvelstcrk]

Bailing Out

CHAPTER II: Stark

pairing: tony stark x daughter!reader

word count: idk cause i wrote it in my notes and added a lot of stuff after pasting it here, but it’s well over 1k

summary: you’ve lived with your aunt and her family after your mother died. one day, you got arrested and your father whom you have never met came to bail you out.

a/n: thank you so much on over 100 notes on the first part!! it’s really a lot, considering the 30 followers i have haha! i hope you’ll like this part, even tho it’s not even close to the first one

i decided to start naming the chapters and the titles are so bad bare with me

masterlist || series masterlist

You swore you felt your heart sink down to the bottom of your stomach, as your gaze travelled down from the paper in his hands all the way up to the man’s face. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, his jaw hanging in the air.

“Well,” you strated, your voice high pitched, breaking the tense silence “guess you did knock her up!”

His eyes wandered over to yours, “You know-“

“Hey, what happened to you? Weren’t we supposed to have a meeting?” a voice from the behind called, causing you both to turn around. The man standing was Steve Rogers himself. “And who’s this?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is Y/N.” You smiled, shooting a wink in the man’s direction. “I’m his daughter.”

“What?”

“I’ll get back to you later, Steve.” Tony said, motioning him to exit the room. Steve didn’t even have time to comprehend what he just saw but silently turned around on his heel and headed towards the door. Tony was faced by your shit eating grin once more. He started tripping over his words. “Okay, uh, this is, well, uh, not something, I mean, if I had known, I, uh-“

“Relax, old man.” you smirked, before adding. “We didn’t know until know.”. Getting up from the couch, you paddled over to the fridge. Tony’s expression screamed confusion, as his eyebrows furrowed together. “How come you’re so relaxed about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a big deal.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, I have always wondered who my other parent was. But come on, I gave up on life so much time ago, this is actually some relaxing news. The biggest question, finally answered.”

He frowned, tilting his head aside slightly, worry eating him up as he was analysing your words. What do you mean with ‘gave up on life?’ Figuring it probably wasn’t the best time for you to pour your heart out to him, he continued. “You’re- you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be?” You smiled, this time, a genuine and honest smile. “I would be mad at my mother but what good would that do.” He was speechless, his jaw still hanging in the air. “Relax, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. I’d be mad if you did but this way? Nah.”

You could’ve sworn he was fighting tears behind his eyes, no matter how hard he had tried to cover it up. Your expression softened. “You really are nothing like the Tony Stark from TV.”

He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “So, what do we do next?”, you raised an eyebrow at him, causing him to explain further. “We literally found out about each other, what, 6 hours ago?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I don’t know, you’re the adult here.”

Helpful. He rolled his eyes, getting up and walking towards the counter, facing you. “Maybe, if you want to, and if your aunt agrees, I mean, she’s your legal guardian, you could stay here?”

You smirked, opening a bag of chips. “You need to work on your stuttering problem.”

“I don’t have one.”

Chuckling, you nodded “Sure.”

“What- I really don’t!”

“I’m sure my aunt will be okay with it. She doesn’t like me anyways so who cares.” you shrugged, leaning on the cold surface with your elbows.

“Oh, okay. FRIDAY will hook you up with a guest room.”

“Cool. I mean I can take the couch.” Smiling softly, you slowly raised your hand above your head, taking a short sniff at your armpit. “I reek like an old drunk, where can I take a shower?”

“Follow me.”

Returning to the elevator, you listened as he talked to his AI, ignoring important news about some meeting once again. You glimpsed over at him, morning light breaking through the window, lighting the little metal box perfectly. He was facing you with his profile. Now that you though about it, his nose looked awfully like yours.

When you arrived at one of the top floors, he explained to you that that’s where the Avengers live, and showed you to what was now going to be your room. It was quite spacious, with not so much furniture. Upon walking in, you bid your goodbye to him, agreeing to meet downstairs for lunch. After you heard the door shut close, you threw your clothes off and left them scattered all over the floor, heading straight to the shower.

The hot water was beating your back, as you were rethinking what had just gone down. Less than a day ago, you were arrested for doing something you do all the time, but never get busted because Tim is incapable of doing his job. You did like the guy, he was always there and kind, but he was awful at what he did. And now, here you were, taking a shower across the hall from superheroes. Could this be life for you now? Did Tony even want you there? Is he just letting you stay because he feels bad for you or his reputation if this gets out?

That surely doesn’t sound like Tony Stark, but the Tony Stark you’ve seen wasn’t at all like the one in the media. The snarky, flirty, witty, smartass who seems like he thinks he’s above everyone else almost tripped over his own feet in front of you. Still better than what you were expecting to see, when you heard you’d be meeting your father. Hell, it could’ve been Dave.

Tony on the other hand, was roaming around the tower not knowing where to actually go or what to do with himself. He was entering the elevator, when he accidentally bumped into a large figure walking out of it. “Woah- hey, slow down.”

“Sorry, Cap.” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the surface next to the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know, I can’t think.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve asked, gently placing an arm around Tony’s shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“How long have you had a daughter?”

“Since last night. She got arrested and her aunt, her legal guardian, didn’t want to bail her out so they found me. But she doesn’t know about that.”

“Is she gonna stay here?”

“I don’t think she’ll want anything to do with me.”

“What?”

“Face it Cap, I’ll screw it up one way or the other.” he answered, pushing himself past Steve and towards the common room. “I mean, whatever’s left to be screwn up. I don’t even know her birthday. What if it’s tomorrow and I don’t congratulate her?”

“Jesus, Tony, calm down.” The man spoke, taking a step forward. “When was the last time you slept?”

Tony stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to think about Steve’s question. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You need to w-“

“Don’t.” he stopped him, placing his hand up in the air. “Just don’t.” Tony sighed, as he felt an arm place itself around his shoulder and squeeze it tightly once more.

“Just relax, alright? You’re gonna do great. Don’t overthink it.”

He closed his eyes, before taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Cap.”

“I’m in a mood for pizza, what about you?” you announced, as you paced into the room, drying your hair with a towel. You saw the two men standing behind the couch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Steve shook his head, turning around to face you. “Y/N, right? I’m Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve.” you smiled, throwing the towel over your shoulder and holding it in one hand, letting it fall down your back. “Sooo, pizza? Yes or no?”

Tony raised his head, a wide smile plastered over his face. “Pizza sounds great.”

CHAPTER III

Tags: @chonisberonica @stupidlysarcastic

[feotakahari]

An introduction to what Utilitarianism isn’t

Edit: go to https://feotakahari.dreamwidth.org for more organized posts and proper tagging.

Any blog should start off by introducing its subject, but in theory, Utilitarianism is quite simple. It’s a theory of ethics under which you should take whatever actions will lead to the greatest happiness for everyone involved. There are no other rules or restrictions--just make as many people as happy as you can make them.

So to make this more interesting, let’s go over some of the things Utilitarians DON’T have.

1): Retribution. One of the most heartfelt arguments I’ve seen against Utilitarianism is that it doesn’t advocate hurting people who’ve done bad things. I find it unnerving that this is even an argument. Nothing a person could possibly do could make them stop being a human being, and violence against human beings should be reserved for when there are no other options left. A Utilitarian focuses heavily on rehabilitation, or confinement for those who can’t or won’t change.

Topic: Where the Bad People Go

2): Equality. In theory, making the happiest person in the world much, much happier would be preferable to making the most miserable person in the world just slightly happier. In practice, there’s a limit to how happy you can really make someone, whereas deeply unhappy people can cover a lot of ground to reach a point where they’re happy with themselves and their lives. I don’t have much more to say than that, so I won’t cover it more unless someone has a question.

3): Moral purity. There is never such a thing as a person who acts as a perfect Utilitarian at every moment of their life. No matter how much good you do in the world, there’s always more you could be doing if you weren’t watching TV or playing video games or blogging on Tumblr about Utilitarianism. Other beliefs may be able to draw a distinction between people who follow the rules and people who break them, but every Utilitarian is a rulebreaker by virtue of simply being human, and can’t stand on a pedestal in order to criticize other people who do bad things.

Topics: Stop! You Violated the Law!; You Might be a Rapist. Yes, I Mean You

4): Clean hands. There are a lot of actions that immediately strike people as wrong, like theft, murder, and treason. Each of these can potentially be defended as necessary to achieve the most utility in a given situation. This is where I’m most interested in talking, and where I’ll spend the most of my time considering, rejecting, subverting, and reconsidering what a good Utilitarian and a good person can and can’t do. The most I’ll say for now is that if your instincts say something’s fishy, there’s usually a good reason why.

Topics: When a Trolley in an Arena Hits a Doctor Harvesting Organs From a Lonesome Stranger; Lee Hurst is a Ticking Time Bomb; The Ones Who Break the Chains in Omelas; The Speluncean Explorers vs. the Sinking Boat; Robin Hood: The Economic Utilitarian; Utilitarianism: Ethics for Gamblers; The Monster in the Mirror

5): Pretty much everything else. Freedom? Don’t care, unless it leads to utility. Piety? Don’t care, unless it leads to utility. These aren’t subjects I normally think about, but I’ll address them if they come up.

Topics: Arguing With Libertarians; The Fresh New Taste of Ethics; Ontological Importance; The Cycle of Sacrifice 1, 2; “Consequentialism Is Bad Because It Leads to Bad Consequences”; Simply Too Stupid to Live

Miscellaneous topics: The Ethics of Superheroes 1, 2, 3; The Two Rabbis and Jesus; I Love Fluffy Bunnies; Utilitarianism and Abortion; Is-Ought’s Fables; I Am Not Rational; Evil; Otherkin, DID, and Acceptable Targets; Instant Win Conditions; Anselm’s Ontological Argument; I Do Not Care About Islam, You Don’t Have to Suck; Freeze Peach; The World You Need; A List of Reasons Why I’ll Give Up Talking to You; “Should,” “Does,” and Safety, Genocide By Ignorance

Fiction for Utilitarians (Analyses and Recommendations): Assassination Classroom; Ender’s Game; Eumenides in the Fourth Floor Lavatory; The Gulf Between; Loophole; Lost Dimension; The Missing: JJ Macfield and the Island of Memories; Paranoia Agent/Persona 5 (comparison); Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: Spirit of Justice; Pillars of Eternity; Pyre; The Severing Crime Edge; The Sexy Brutale; Thalia’s Musings

A big thank you to L.B. Lee for convincing me that people might actually want to listen to my rambling. Just be warned that now you’ve started me talking, it’ll be hard to get me to stop.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Do do monsters come to being? I mean... we know how vampirism etc. Is transmitted, but how were they created? (We know about demons, but what about the others?) What is their offspring? Someone had to be the first. Was there a overall-being who was "god" for the monsters or was it a genetical defect? Or is it unknown? (There's probably a logical answer, but I'm just to tired to make it come to my mind)

You know how my tag for season 6 is “we don’t talk about season 6″? 

I am literally… like…

we need to talk about season 6 more, because:

I love Eve, Mother of All

here’s her superwiki page:

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=Eve

I like the speculation mentioned on that page that she’s a sort of Leviathan because I also have thought that. Specifically that she’s related to them somehow, but is also much more than them, since she seems to “own” Purgatory and that was a place created as a prison for them, and since she has her own powers of creation of a very twisted type, I see her as a sort of demigod or angel of the Leviathans - possibly created by God to manage Purgatory with as much power as she needed to keep the Leviathans from fucking everything up. Whether she started to make monsters because she was bored or needed them or it just filled a nice little niche to add some flavour to the world - or, well, because SHE was trapped in there with the Leviathans and this was her influence over the “main” creation (and perverting it to her own style and having a sort of rival creation going on is a really neat thing, especially as it was successful and her alphas and other methods of spreading monsters have created an apparently nearly permanent influence on the planet…)

I really like the speech from the alpha vamp in 6x07, which includes this line:

Alpha Vampire When your kind first huddled around the fire, I was the thing in the dark! Now you think you can hurt me?

it implies monsters have been around about as long as recognisable humans with their rudimentary stone age culture, fitting into the earliest sense of mythology humans could have had, and as monsters are sort of metaphorical of the anxieties and neuroses of human society, I like that they’ve been around from the start. 

Of course Eve also needs power to run Purgatory, and to contain the Leviathan (hey guess what happens after she dies and someone fucks up Purgatory completely by draining its power source completely :P) so it could be that whatever she initially had to manage them, wasn’t enough and the fight for the souls that heaven and hell are engaged in also began there - recognising the raw power of God’s favourite creation, she also finds a way to harvest it, and since Purgatory is a lockbox for the Leviathan that God put the seal on hoping they’d never ever get back into Creation, then the souls she takes from what’s basically a buffet for higher powers when they look at Humanity, are securely kept… Hell in contrast is like the low security prison people are walking in and out of all the time, and the purpose was never locking them away, but the torture, which incidentally involves trapping them there, but I guess only as long as it takes to make someone into a good demon for sneaking back out to raise hell on earth :P 

I also think she’s one of the most phenomenally wasted characters on the whole show because of her immense power and relevance to literally everything. There might not be other seasons with monster mytharcs, but there’s monsters in just about every season… (Uh… I haven’t checked for sure, but season 12 I think has only had one incidental vampire in a flashback in England, right? We haven’t had any monster episodes in the sense of children of Eve monsters?) … 

Anyway, thematically I would guess that Amara comes closest to re-treading this ground, but going way too far in the other direction of her beef with God 

Eve’s beef with God:

EVE You do know that Jesus was just a man.

RICK Sure, but he was also the son of God, sent here because he loves us.

EVE God doesn’t care about you.

RICK Sure he does.

EVE Your father made you and then abandoned you, so you pray. You see signs where there’s nothing. But truth is, your apocalypse came and went, and you didn’t even notice. A mother would never abandon her children like he did. You’ll see.

Instead of being his sister and focusing on the soap opera family aspects, her feeling as a rival creator is there. You could say all the alphas are like her monster Jesus-es that she sent to spread her message (uh by biting and turning humans - this thought is probably a little blasphemous but then I’m not religious and this show is probably worse :P)

… And she expresses this to a random trucker but it’s a sentiment weirdly similar to Dean’s anger with God he expresses in 12x21. Amara also spoke a few times about Creation and re-making it, but she never did a whole lot except the zompires thing, very aimlessly. I’m not sure when she spoke about re-doing Creation she meant obliterating the universe in some of the earlier discussions about it, since as a “child” she was interested in the natural world, and in 11x09 also expressed a fondness for Creation, having picked a nice picnic spot to take Dean, and saying,

Amara: I had no other reason to harm his chosen. My issue is with my brother, not his creation.

Meanwhile Eve is happily stealing humans for herself, intending to overrun the world with her creation, so she has a much more aggressive tactic, and if Dean hadn’t killed her when he did (and Crowley’s minions cleared up the loose ends) then her plan would have been one of the most destructive ones on the show, to rival what would have happened if they hadn’t stopped the Croatoan virus getting out in 5x21.

… Anyway as I was about to follow another thread on this I realised you only asked if she existed, not for a very long essay on All The Ways I Feel Supernatural Wasted Their Best Ever Character so um tl;dr the answer to your question is, yes, Eve is the Monster God who spread her monsters through the world via powerful and nigh-on un-killable “alpha” prototypes of all the usual* monsters.

*there are monsters in canon such as wendigo (*takes a shot*) that are not strictly “children of eve” although I wonder if the show would retcon them for a real return. It’s possible there’s a method of transmission that hunters have never analysed as the first season was working off vague folklore with no need to make a coherent set of worldbuilding rules underneath it. I’d also retcon the changelings from 3x02 into faires, and the striga in season 1 they classified as a witch, but I’d say is definitely a type of monster/fairy somewhere in the same family tree as the soul eater from 11x16 or banshee from 11x11 -  we just didn’t meet witches as we know them on the show until 3x09, which also retconned demons into humans, and changed them up from some sort of superpowered monster, and overall took the show in a very different direction with human threats and human nature vs the vast unknown of monsters and why they do such things. (… Also…. After 10x20 we also tracked a thread from grigori angels to djinn but djinn WERE Eve’s monsters and we know that from 6x01/6x10, which means either she perverted angels into them initially and through her monster infection powers it spread to humans, OR they just tap a very similar mechanic. The family trees are a mess :P)

Because hunters mostly wing it and just work out how to kill the thing and so on, it’s only really with the MoL that any magic-science has any sort of… accessible structure to it. They’ve done their research on monsters so it’s more of a chance to explain things than before… I’m sure if you asked Toni or Mick to explain where Wendigo come from they’d have a completely different answer to your average hunter working off legends of starving trapped loggers in the woods turning to cannibalism and becoming monstrous :P For one thing, there’s plenty of historical cannibalism recorded where people didn’t become wendigo (e.g. sieges or famines) and it seems to be based on location as well, so clearly there’s more at work there than hunters have ever really reckoned with, but… that’s also not really their job. :P

… I’m so sorry for this essay. I’m a writer and fantasy world building is one of my things that I really like doing. Throw Supernatural at me and I have a vein popping in my forehead making a coherent picture for it all because there’s so many HOLES and wasted potential and amazing ideas which are just lurking under the surface…