#i’d go to infinity and beyond with him

[heartthroblopez]

Bruh they’re sooo cute

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: from the sweet boy you met at your cafe job to an obsessive psycho, yandere!yang jungwon goes to extreme measures to ensure that you’re his.

➳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of food, abduction and yandere themes, swearing, violence, crying, angst, hickeys, non-con kissing and touching, nudity ~

𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4k | read pt. 2 , 3 , and 4 here

"I brought you some treats! I hope you’re hungry!" Jungwon placed the woven basket of freshly made delights before you on the center of the picnic mat, his cheerful voice snatching your focus from the daunting thoughts clouding your mind.

"Thank you, Won-ah," you smiled, feigning a sense of gratitude towards his unusual gesture.

"So," he began, revealing the goodie’s hidden beneath the white cloth of the basket. "What do you think of my garden?"

"Well, it’s a change that I’ll have to learn to get used to," you admitted, too timid to meet his curious feline eyes. "My life in the city followed a work-sleep-repeat schedule," you went on. "Where I’m from, no one really cared to spend their free time outdoors. Your garden, though... it’s rather strange at best, especially considering that you’ve maintained it all by yourself."

Jungwon simply nodded in response as he arranged a few sandwiches and a bowl of sweet cream and sugar-soaked strawberries for the two of you on a sharing platter, savoring one of the bright red berries in his mouth.

"Jungwon?"

He swallowed and said, "Yes, my love?"

"Are you going to keep me here forever?"

Chirping birds in the distance temporarily filled the silence.

"Hmm… When you’re deeply in love with someone, you often like to think that time is an irrelevant variable. I would say that forever is quite a strong word, yet, a perfect one to describe my infinite love for you." His eyes lit up at the mere thought of infinity and beyond with you, the love of his life.

You nodded in response, taking a corner of one of the sandwiches Jungwon had prepared into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the soft white bread.

"I’m not much of a cook, but I tried to recreate the little sandwiches you used to make me at the cafe to the best of my ability. I remember when you recommended that I try them because they were your favorite lunch item on the menu." He smiled to himself at the memory before searching your features for any clue as to what was going on in your head.

"It’s not identical, but I almost prefer your version of the treat," you admitted, trying to mask the awkwardness between you two. "It’s sweeter. Softer. Unlike the stale bread and recycled fruit I’d make them with at the cafe,"

Jungwon chuckled in response, and your lips couldn’t help but tug upward at each corner. Deep down, you wanted to believe that somewhere in Jungwon’s twisted brain, he was the same shy and innocent boy you previously met at your cafe job on a slow Tuesday morning.

The boy you wanted to learn more about at your own pace and on your own terms.

The boy you used to dream would somehow save you from the mundane patterns of your exhausting city life.

Though, in an odd way, you got what you asked for.

"Jungwon?"

"Yes," he answered, yet asked, slightly curious about your reasons for wanting to question him again.

"Are you anything like the ‘you’ I met before all this?"

It had only been three days since Jungwon had abducted you, hiding you away in his garden of arcane wonders. Before today, you and him had hardly made any conversation since you arrived here, as he didn’t see any need for chatting given the fact that you two had already gotten to know each other personally. Just yesterday, he offered to give you a tour of one of the smaller greenhouses he owned, saying that you would have to wait a while before he showed you the rest of his field. Presently, this is your first time leaving your "room" since day one, mostly for Jungwon’s selfish desires of wanting to have a little picnic date with you. Perhaps this was all a ploy to manipulate your trust. Nonetheless, you wanted to use this time with Jungwon as an opportunity to ask him to clarify his deeper intentions. The only things Jungwon had made verbally clear to you were a set of rules for you to follow and that you were his and his only.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Yes. I am the same Jungwon that you met at the cafe as I am now and always will be. The only thing that’s changed are my feelings for you. They’ve grown since I brought you here with me. Since I’ve shared this part of my life with you." A forlorn expression waved over his features for a moment. He looked into your weak eyes as if speaking to your soul.

"I love you."

You felt obligated to say a set of three words back to him, but they were caught in your throat. You swallowed your own resistance and blurted out a shaky, "I love you, too, Jungwon," hoping that you sounded as sincere as you wanted him to believe you were. It’s not that you were incapable of ever loving Jungwon. At one point, you felt like you almost did. Unfortunately, all of those "what ifs" went out the window after the garden. Even after considering Jungwon’s plea for innocence, you felt in your gut that you still couldn’t trust him. Rightfully so, given that he had already betrayed your trust on such a level. Your false confession of love rang true to Jungwon’s ears, and the forlorn look on his face faltered, being replaced with his familiar smile. It startled you to see how the smile of his that used to comfort you had already become one of fright.

"Come here," he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap in a lotus position. He braced the small of your back with his larger hand, the other hand alternating between exploring either your thigh, cheek, or loose baby hairs. You could hardly keep eye contact with him, missing the close proximity you two had once enjoyed on the checkered picnic mat.

"I think it’s only fair that I ask you a question of my own, seeing that you’ve interrogated me twice thus far."

In that moment, Jungwon somehow made you feel guilty for not trusting him. It's been a few days, and you’ve been alright as rain under his sheltering. He certainly had been as sweet as the boy you first met, but you still couldn’t let his words disregard the facts. Jungwon had kidnapped you and never intended on letting you go. He lured you in like a fish in water, and you took the bait. Trying to avoid asking him what he wanted to know, as that would be yet another question on your behalf, you confessed, saying: "Whatever the question may be, I promise to answer you truthfully this time. I’m sorry for lying to you about certain things in the past."

You looked so submissive in Jungwon’s eyes while situated in his lap with your legs wrapped around him, his greedy hands left to explore your soft skin and every curve of your anxious body. You regained some ability to maintain eye contact with him while you awaited his question, your docile doe eyes opening a gate to Jungwon’s wildest fantasies of you, as your two hearts were the only beats present in this lonely field. You noticed Jungwon’s previously innocent aura falter into a darker, more lustful one upon feeling the sensation of his length growing harder beneath you. Your eyes fell to his lap and widened at the sight of his bulge.

"Jungwo-" he stopped you mid-sentence by taking your chin in his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. He remembered your previous confession of dishonesty regarding your past interactions with him, inspiring a catalog of questions he wanted to ask you before settling on the one most important to him.

"____," he sighed, feeling his body tingle all over at the mere contact with your now goosebump-bathed skin. This state had you both scared for different reasons. For him, it was the closeness of the moment—an obedient you cradled in his embrace like he’d always dreamed of. For you, it was also the closeness, coupled with the sight of an obsessed and hungry Jungwon biting back every will in his body to ravish you on the spot. The dainty meal he had prepared was long forgotten, likely to be left to insects and other wild life to feast upon in the meantime. He smoothed the tiny bumps on your nervous arm with a hard hand, hoping to ease your apparent nerves that only grew with the delay of his question.

"Were you lying to me when you said you weren’t a virgin?"

The question caused a pit to form in your stomach. It was written all over your face. However, as in most cases, Jungwon was more concerned with your answer than how his question made you feel. The fact that he was already hard just made the situation even more painful. He seemed to be patient for your response, but you didn’t want to push your luck and forced yourself to answer, but only with a soft mumble.

"Yes, I- I'm a virgin," you regretfully admitted, looking away from his face again, feeling some sort of strange shame. Silence filled the air as you awaited a sentence from Jungwon that never came. Only his pouty lips linked with yours, not exactly according to the way you previously would’ve preferred your first kiss with him to be, and certainly not under such circumstances. You instinctively pulled away in disgust, but luckily, with him being caught up in his own delusions, he saw your resistance to his kiss as a break for air. Suddenly, the dreamy boy you met in the cafe lost all of his charm, looking no different from a casual pervert.

"You’re mine. From the moment I saw you, I fucking knew your soul belonged to me. It’s hard to believe a beautiful girl like you is so intimately pure." He laved at his own lips, trying to steady his breathing.

"Were you waiting for me? Love?"

You struggled in his grip, senselessly trying to get away from him, knowing that you wouldn’t get very far.

"What is it, _____? I thought you loved me," his voice cracked, almost in a confused cry.

"Eugh!" you squirmed as he held you tighter.

"You can’t force me to love you back!"

That comment stung like a needle in his heart.

"Force you? So you lied to me. Again?"

"I can learn to love you, Jungwon! Just not like this!" You pleaded with him, your eyes beginning to well with tears. Though his despair soon returned to its original lustful desires. He pushed you off of his lap and pinned you by your hands to the picnic mat, your arms framing your head so gracefully.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this—to be so close to you that we’re breathing each other’s air," he confessed in between a trail of wet kisses, his sugary pink saliva glistening on your neck and collarbone under the sunlight peeking through the trees. He hungrily nibbled on your exposed skin, causing a moan to erupt from your throat unintentionally. The vibrations from your throat tantalized his lips, forcing a low grunt from him as he smirked against your flesh, the once-uncomfortable nips turning into painful pinches. His hand focused on kneading your hip before gripping your waist, the other curiously hovering over one of your breasts before taking hold of it like his life depended on it.

"Please, Jungwon-ah," you whimpered, your tears still too shy to fully come out, or perhaps it was the newfound anger and hate you’d developed for him that hindered your tears from flowing. He stopped his ministrations to your neck and chest momentarily, his elbows caging you beneath him. He stared at you with an uncanny fondness, thinking to himself how much he’d like to force those bashful tears out of your eyes with his greedy dick alone.

"Shh, my flower... You have nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here with me," he said in a soft voice, causing you to spiral in your head, a thick tear finally daring to tip over the damp edge of your lower eyelid. His eyes followed the tear, sliding down your cheeks before resting in the crook of your chest. He dove down to catch the liquid with his tongue, but was halted by a harsh slap planted right across his face. ‘Why did I do that?’ you thought to yourself.

"You little bitch," he cursed, flipping you on your stomach and restraining your movements with much greater success than before. He unzipped his pants and pressed his hardness on your back, leaning close enough to your ear so you could hear the sick nothings he whispered to you.

"Do you feel that, love? That’s how much power you have over me. My manhood has always been my weakest member. It submits to you in ways I both love and hate. But I have control over your entire body, and don’t you ever fucking forget that," he ordered, sitting on your legs as he hurriedly stammered to remove your clothing. You knew that at this point, fighting wouldn’t help you, but the haste with which your clothes were flying off your body only added fuel to your rage. You felt foolish, used, and soon to be abused under his tight grip. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you damned yourself for not seeing it any sooner. A cacophony of thoughts ran through your head, making you feel much more than half-crazy. You wanted to cry, and you did. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. The only sound that escaped your mouth was a weak, raspy sentence:

"I’m not a flower, Jungwon."

He stopped abruptly, staring at your bare and bruised figure beneath him, glistening in a sheen of sweat. Your rebuttal rang true in his ears, and he said to himself, yes, you were indeed far from a flower. For now, that is. His aggressive demeanor switched to that of a more calm and understanding one. He leaned down to gently peck an appealing corner of your neck that he had previously marked, a cherry red hue rising to the surface of your skin. He then trailed a finger down your spine, saying something that you didn’t know was either to you or himself.

"Why didn’t I think of that before? Every flower ought to have petals." You were very confused yet grateful that the abuse didn’t go any further, with Jungwon leaping off of your tired body and running off to his personal shed, leaving a naked, crying you sprawled upon the checkered picnic mat alone under the sun. The once tasty delights had become the second most disgusting thing in the dreaded garden, with Jungwon placing first.

………………………………………………………………………………….

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ ᴘ.ꜱ: this is my first fanfic, so i really hope you all enjoyed this short story! if it seems like i got a little carried away with myself here, it’s because i originally wrote this idea about someone else but changed my mind last minute haha��� feel free to put in any requests for future works and provide feedback! love always <3

[brittle-doughie]

Infinity and Beyond - Looking Into The Sweet Signals from Space Update!

We’re finding the imposters among us with this one!

The aim of this concept is to have it be a multi-update deal akin to the Dragons storyline with how they say “like the dragon series, we’re diving into a story set in a rich, expansive universe”. This peaked my interest, I’d love to see what they have in store! I know there are some folks who like or don’t like the Dragons story, so I wonder what you all think of this!

Meet Astronaut Cookie! She’s cute, has an ice cream sandwich satellite for a pet, even has a cat cookie motif with her costume? What more could you want! Yeah, her skill might be a bit too reminiscent of Cyborg’s (who also got a skin after 84 years lol), but I’m willing to look past that.

Alright, I’m kind of vibing with the setting already, cookies are probably toothpaste, wonder if they clean your teeth when eaten. How does one “escape” or even fortify against a blackhole? The event itself sounds similar to the Sugar Maze event to me…in a way somehow. Wait, why is Stollen Cookie here?Also Planet H A M B O R G A R

I’m now getting Star Wars: Rogue One flashbacks. Just like Cyborg, it’s been 84 years since he got attention, so I’m happy to see he got a cool skin to deck himself out with!

The Surprise Bears. They can either go well or go very poorly, still means I don’t have to run over and over again for the god damn legendary ingredients. However, I do hope the challenges aren’t meant to be a cap in any way, since that already drags it down when you were able to AFK for hours beforehand, even if it sucked. Team Fight getting a gem boost might give me more incentive to play.

(Gmod flatline sound effect plays)

The Deal with Legendaries is canceled, y’all /j. I can’t keep up with their pace, bro. I’m over here trying to write it from time to time and they already have another one on the way, I’m dead. Xylitol Nova himself is getting flak for having a supposedly dull design unworthy of the rarity, I’m already seeing it in the QRTs on Twitter lol. For me, I’ll wait until I cast judgment, he has a pretty cool skin though…

———————————————————————

(Astronaut Cookie looked all around her new setting, seeing the city’s sleek, clean, futuristic design she hasn’t seen much of back on Earthbread. The cookies here didn’t look all that different too, save for their ingredients being possibly toothpaste in some capacity. She was caught staring at this one cookie in particular, she observed them inspecting the shield and instructing the robots to different spots close to the barrier, Xylitol Nova Cookie chuckled at her once he noticed.)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Ah, I see you’ve taken an interest in one of my cookies. That would be Xylitol Y/N Cookie, they’re in charge of making sure the barrier is in peak performance, they’ve been hard at work ever since we’ve seen reports of the blackhole.

(Xylitol Nova walked over to them as Astronaut followed. Meanwhile, you were instructing both cookies and robots alike on the status of the barrier, making sure that no fault in any way was detected. Until the voice of someone very familiar to you called your name..)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Hello, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. How are you doing?

(You greeted Xylitol Nova in return and proceeded to ramble on about the barrier. You did your best at trying to speak to him, but couldn’t ignore that cookie next to him staring at you. It also looked like Xylitol Nova wasn’t taking your analysis seriously with that smile of his, something that bothered you to no end!)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: How routine of you, Xylitol Y/N Cookie. Always thinking about the barrier when we haven’t had any issues in the past couple rotations. We have a guest here today and I’d like for you to meet her-

(You couldn’t, you had to inspect the rest of the barrier-when Xylitol Nova Cookie suddenly hugged you from behind with a strong grip, a scene that made Astronaut Cookie feel…envious. You complained and grumbled as you try fruitlessly to free yourself)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: Xylitol Y/N Cookie. You are taking a break from now until further notice, I’d hate to use my authority on you, but this is for your own good. Feel free to interact with your fellow cookies, come and see me in my residence, or even introduce yourself to our guest here~! (I’d prefer you pick the second option in my opinion)

(You continued to struggle until it felt tighter to move, you looked to your front to see Astronaut Cookie hugging you from the front, her head resting on your chest. You swear she’s…shaking a little bit?)

Xylitol Nova Cookie: What do you know? Even our visitor is agreeing with me, she appears to have taken a liking to you too.

(…Who was this?)

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Comfort Zone

@summer-of-bad-batch week 2 alt prompt 'Comfort Zone'

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Shep Hazard Set after the finale when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~1735 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Hunter is restless, and Shep invites him to take a walk.

Even on rest days Shep liked to be up early, circulating among the island community, greeting the early risers. He made it his personal mission to ensure that every member of Pabu’s population was well-cared for, always ready to lend an ear or a hand, whatever the situation called for.

This morning this usually quiet stretch of Lower Pabu echoed with the noise of some singular industry, banging and sawing acting as his beacon as he wound his way around the curving paths until he found the source of the noise.

His melodious voice floated to the man on the roof, lilting in query.

“Hunter? What are you doing up there?”

There was no pause to the sounds of Hunter’s work, and he replied without venturing to where he could see the other man. “Fixing the roof.”

“Yes, but… it’s a day of rest, Hunter.”

“Roof’s not going to fix itself.”

“It will be there tomorrow.”

“What if it rains tonight?”

Shep paused and glanced out at the endless sky that stretched from the isle, cloudless blue in all directions reaching down to meet the sea in a horizon which blurred to infinity.

“Rain,” he repeated, his voice faint with humour.

The sounds of work continued from above.

Shep glanced about for a ladder, thinking to climb and try to make Hunter speak with him face to face. He didn’t see one. Unsurprising that the clone commando would forgo such things – Shep had seem him swarm up cliff-faces in pursuit of flowers which caught Omega’s eye, and he doubted their low buildings posed as much of a challenge as that.

He settled for repeating the clone’s name again. “Hunter.”

The hammering ceased. Hunter’s face appeared at the edge of the roof, guilty apology writ large across his features.

“Sorry. Am I disturbing people? I can come back to this later. I’ll find something else to do in the meantime…”

Shep couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up at Hunter’s stumbling explanation, words tripping over themselves as he looked anywhere except at Shep.

“Come walk with me, Hunter,” he said, his smile infusing the invitation with warmth.

“Maybe later, Shep,” said Hunter, swinging down from the roof and immediately stalking past him, still avoiding his gaze. “I noticed one of the cliff fences was down too, could be a danger if the kids roam near it. I’ll go fix that, it’s out of the way-”

“Hunter.”

The gentle force to his name stopped Hunter and he wheeled round slowly, head down but eyes glancing up from beneath the shadow of his bandana.

“This… isn’t something I have a choice about, is it.”

Shep smiled and shook his head. “Glad you caught on.”

Hunter groaned, but a faint grin lit his tired face. “I’m used to using that voice on the others.” He shook his head ruefully. “Never thought I’d have someone use it on me.”

Gesturing with his head, Shep turned and started walking and let Hunter fall into step beside him. He picked a path which wound away from the inhabited areas of the island, one he knew would eventually turn from paving to dirt as they reached the wilder spaces beyond the sprawl of Lower Pabu’s housing.

The silence between them was companionable, although it was easy to sense Hunter’s reticence in his stooped shoulders and the hands dug into his pockets. His eyes shifted restlessly over everything before them, mouth part-open to sample the scent of the air, and Shep could almost feel the busy thoughts whirring away behind his tattooed visage.

Eventually he opened with a question which was really a soft command.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Hunter.”

The clone almost startled, jerking in surprise at his voice after the quiet of their walk. Hunter glanced up at him quickly, then let his gaze go long over the horizon, slowing to a halt as he dug his boots into the ground, nudging a rock with his toe.

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“You’re not happy,” pressed Shep gently.

Hunter’s defensive snort was almost too quick. “Of course I am. What’s not to be happy about? We’re finally free of the Empire. Omega is doing great. We… we have the lives I always wanted for us.” His words slowed and trailed off, before his gaze dropped from the seascape to the ground. “What’s there to be unhappy about?”

“You’re restless, then.”

At that, Hunter gave a small nod. His voice was gravel, the words reluctantly dragged from him as he agreed, “I guess you could say that.”

Shep looked about and found a broad boulder to settle his weight against, leaning comfortably back against the rock. There was plenty of space for Hunter to join him if he wished, but he didn’t press the invitation onto the man.

For a moment he sat, surveying the tense line of Hunter’s shoulders, before he spoke his next words carefully.

“It can be hard to make the adjustment. Hard to step out of your comfort zone, even if… especially if your comfort zone was hardship.” He watched carefully for Hunter’s reaction, but the clone kept his back to him. “When it’s all you’ve known for so long, the familiarity of danger can sometimes seem like a friend. It’s hard to know what to do with yourself when you don’t need to be alert all the time.” He paused, left time for the thought to sink in before adding, “Hard to know what to do with yourself when others don’t need you all the time.”

Hunter’s shoulders shifted with a soft snort. “You could be talking about yourself there, Shep.”

“I could be,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps that’s why I recognise it in you too.”

Now Hunter turned to him, and there was gentle devastation written across his features. His stern façade had fractured, and beneath it there was uncertainty, and loss.

“Who am I if I’m not their leader?” he asked, his gruff voice little more than a whisper. Now his storm-grey eyes met Shep’s at last, piercing, searching.

Shep pushed to his feet again, stepping towards Hunter and letting a huge, warm hand settle on his shoulder. He squeezed lightly, a reassurance.

“You’re their brother. Their friend. A father-figure to Omega.” A smile tugged at his lips as he added, “Don’t mistake me, she looks to all of you, but her bond with you is different to the rest. She needs you, in a different way now to perhaps how she did before, but no less important.” He let his grip tighten, pressing his words into Hunter. “I’d say more important.”

The line of Hunter’s shoulders was still tense under his hand. “Echo and Crosshair are out there fighting the Empire,” he said reluctantly. “I should be doing more.”

Letting his hand drop, Shep stepped past Hunter to gaze down at the town, the houses stretching down to the docks and the small boats bobbing there, less now than before the Empire attacked, but the small fleet recovering with each new craft they built.

“Do you begrudge Wrecker the life he leads now?”

“What?” He almost felt Hunter’s startled flinch. “Of course not.”

Shep smiled as he thought of the big clone, the first refugee to come to Pabu who rivalled him in stature. Wrecker had thrown himself wholeheartedly into island life, and not a day went by without him turning his hand to some new skill, eager to learn, ever-willing to lend his strength to the community. He could most often be found down at the docks, but a love of Pabu’s food had seen him turn into a surprisingly good chef as well, and he was beginning to return Shep’s gifts of food baskets for the clones with cooked platters of his own.

“Or the clone cadets? The three boys you rescued?”

“That’s different,” said Hunter sullenly. “It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” said Shep mildly. He chuckled at the thought of the mischief the three boys wrought, seven and eight years old in teenagers’ bodies. They had tried fostering them with parents, but the three of them had been fending for themselves so long they were happier on their own. Instead, Shep had settled them in a central location, ensuring that they had islanders around them to help them adjust whilst giving them their own space.

“It’s not,” insisted Hunter stubbornly. “They’re just kids. They shouldn’t have to fight. I want them to have normal lives… just like I want for Omega.”

“Hmm.” Shep let the thoughtful noise hang in the air between them. “They are trained. Capable soldiers. Why do you feel you should compare yourself to your brothers in the Resistance, yet not expect them to join?”

He heard the intake of breath that was Hunter getting ready to argue, then the click of his teeth as he jaw clamped shut. He tried not to smile.

“It sounds like you hold yourself to different standards than you do the rest of them, Hunter,” he offered, and continued with Hunter’s grunt of acknowledgement. “It’s hard not to, when you’ve been their Sergeant so long. You’ve seen them through so much. But…”

Now he turned back to Hunter, expression gentle and unjudgmental as he said, “Couldn’t you extend yourself the same grace? To give yourself the chance to lead the life you want, not the life you feel you ought to?”

Hunter’s face was shadowed with doubt, and he worried at his lower lip as conflict showed in his eyes.

Eventually he looked up at Shep.

“How do you do it?” he asked softly. “How do you be who people expect you to be… and still find the right path for yourself?”

Shep smiled benignly, clapping a hand to Hunter’s upper arm reassuringly.

“With practice, Hunter. You’ll get the hang of it.” His smile broadened. “Perhaps you can start by taking a rest day… on the rest day.”

Hunter grinned sheepishly with a rough chuckle. “Alright, Shep. Consider me lectured.”

Shep turned back to the island vista, draping his arm over Hunter’s shoulders. The clone relaxed into an easier posture, one hand on his hip, some of the tension bleeding from his frame.

“It will take time,” Shep told him softly. “But you’ll learn. I’m sure of it.”

A soft smile tugged at the edge of Hunter’s lips, lifting some of the tiredness from his expression.

“I’m sure I will.”

[joyfuladorable]

Any headcanons about peni and miles and Gwen.

A few!

I have a fondness for young characters who end up gaining a bunch of surrogate older siblings, so Peni now holds that honor as well!

I think the events that (further) traumatized Peni are the incident with Addy Brock and VE#m and the death of her Aunt May. The comic issue didn’t really have the time to dig into that, but I’d love if Spider-Verse changes it so that Addy and Peni get to be friends before the disaster with VE#m happens. And then after all that, it’d be like the end of that story where she’s talking with her Uncle Ben before Spider-Ham portals to her to invite her into the Society.

At some point she learns about Canon Events and is Devastated. Like, she really Couldn’t have saved her aunt and Addy even if she’d Tried? Her dad was Meant to Die?? She gets comfort from the older Spideys; but I think especially Gwen, who’s absolutely avoiding thinking about her own dad and what him being a Police Captain means. Once things have (hopefully) settled in Beyond, I like to imagine Miles also gaining the older sibling status.

Anyways, headcanons!!

- Peni Canonically Loves Music, even going so far as playing it while she fights crime, so her and Gwen and Miles (and obviously Hobie and Pavitr and Margo) enthusiastically share their musical tastes with each other

- In the same vein, I just want them to hangout as friends so they have like weekly game nights sharing different card and board games and Pavitr keeps trying to convince everyone to let him run a ttrpg he really likes

- Peni and Margo figure out how to make inter-dimensional Wi-Fi so the teens also play MMOs together even when they’re in their respective universes

- Peni watches Hobie and Gwen play a gig and is enamored by the drums so she asks Gwen to teach her and oh Wow what a great outlet she should’ve tried this Sooner (please imagine Spider hanging from a cymbal as Peni plays and doing that cartoon zaggy vibration whenever it’s hit)

- Lots of hopping between each other’s universes cuz I want them to spend even More time together and have like cultural exchanges and stuff

- When Peni eventually divulges how she got her powers and what happened to her dad and the whole Oscorp technically being her employer thing, the protective older siblings instincts come out and one day her Uncle Ben looks up from his work to see his niece flanked by several angry looking teens

- I know this is supposed to be a Peni Gwen Miles friendship dynamic ask but Peni would get along so well with the other teens like if you’ve seen Peni’s room in the comics she’s a big fan of punk rock and would absolutely be besties with Hobie. Then there’s Pavitr and their sunshine personalities would elevate each other! And, as I’ve mentioned before Peni and Margo are Tech Buddies!!!

- A sign of trust from Peni is if she lets you hold Spider. A high honor! Miles doesn’t get it when she just drops em on his shoulder one day when she goes to do something, so when Gwen tells him he tears up a little bit (a lotta bit)

- okay, and finally, if you’ve read the Spider-Verse Unlimited: Infinity story with Peni, you know she wants to be Normal very Badly and does the usual awkward kid thing of trying to fit in with the Popular Kids’ interests while keeping her secret identity safe during the inevitable calls to hero duty interrupting her time with friends. She doesn’t have to do that with her Spidey buds/siblings!! An alert of trouble while hanging with them means some epic team-up fights!!! Chosen family, My Beloved…

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening (two weeks ago but), thank you 💖 Currently in a writing slump so don’t have any active WIPs to share (beyond a vague list of bulleted ideas).

But thought I’d use the opportunity to share a scene I cut from one of my fics last year. The scene didn’t fit with the story but, hey, I find it silly and cute so I wanted to share it.

No pressure tags to @dewdropreader @lgwilt @blackbirdofasgard @mirilyawrites @dreamycloud @queen-of-meows @mimisempai @rins-love-wins and @loki-is-my-kink-awakening (right back at you!)

Mobius and Loki have wrapped a mission with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts…

Mobius took a sip of wine and looked at the dark blue ocean below him. The view was gorgeous. Maybe he should get that infinity pool for their vacation home Loki was always going on about. The god would definitely be demanding a remodel after seeing Tony Stark’s home now anyway. 

“That was a clever trick you pulled today,” Pepper said, coming to stand beside him. “How did you know to bait Slattery with an unfinished Shakespeare manuscript?” 

“Oh, I know you probably can’t tell from my youthful glow, but I’m a lot older than I look,” Mobius chuckled. “I’ve run into a few Trevor Slatterys in my time. They’re surprisingly opportunistic. Figured besting Shakespeare would be too hard for him to resist.”  

“Hm, I see Loki’s not the only clever trickster around. You make a good pair. I imagine he keeps you busy.” 

“You have no idea.”

“Tony thinks you make a good pair too. Although, he thinks it's because you’re opposites.” 

“You don’t?” Mobius asked, turning to face Pepper. 

Pepper shook her head. “No. I think you make a good pair because you’re more similar than you appear. You give him hope that things can be different, see the good in him he doesn’t see himself. And, I suspect, he does the same for you.” 

A contemplative silence filled the air between them. Mobius looked towards the horizon. The stars were only just beginning to appear in the purple twilight sky. A billion worlds in this timeline, safe because of their actions today.  

“Well then,” Pepper continued, “shall we see how our boys are doing? I’m a little nervous leaving them alone so long.” 

“Loki won’t hurt anyone.” 

“Oh, it wasn’t him I was worried about.” 

The pair made their way downstairs to Tony’s workstation where, sure enough, they found the two embroiled in a heated argument. 

“No, stop. Don’t touch that!” Tony swatted Loki’s hands away from some odd-looking contraption on the table before them. 

“I’m not going to break anything,” Loki huffed. 

“Says the guy who destroyed half of New York City.” 

“I’ve already apologized. Twice! Now, will you just-” 

“Ack! I said no touching!” 

Loki rolled his eyes and stepped away. He raised his hands in mock surrender before he flicked his wrist. In a flash of green magic, a piece connecting two parts of the invention fell and was replaced with a glowing piece of metal from across the room. The machine buzzed to life. 

“There,” Loki sighed, “see. It works.” 

Tony gazed wide-eyed at his invention with a cock of his head. “Now that. Hm.” He looked down at his tablet. “I hadn’t…. These readings… How did you do that?”  

“You Midgardians have such a narrow view of science,” Loki grumbled. “I simply harnessed the power within the system you built and re-routed it through a more malleable conductor. Without the restraints, the energy can flow more freely, giving life to itself, creating an indefinite loop.” 

“Huh. That… that works.” 

“Obviously or I wouldn’t have done it. Where I come from, magic and science are one and the same, and I happen to be an excellent mage.”  

Tony glanced back at his tablet once more before he returned his gaze to Loki. His eyes glistened with barely restrained excitement. “Okay smartass, how would you fix this?” 

Tony steered Loki to the back of the room where a suit labeled Mk 22 took a few unsteady steps and collapsed in a heap of metal. Loki tilted his head in eager curiosity and began to work. Magic swirled around him while he murmured explanations to Tony who seemed to hang on every word. It wasn’t long before the two were lost in their own world, debating and testing theories far beyond anyone else's understanding. 

“You’re right,” Pepper chuckled beside Mobius, “they are cute together.”  

“Huh, what was that Pep?” Tony asked. 

“What are you two talking about?” Loki interjected. 

“Oh, did I show you their wedding photo?” Mobius asked, fishing his TemPad out of his pocket. “Adorable.” 

He pulled up the photos he’d saved from Timeline 465281 and passed the TemPad to Pepper. 

“Mobius, whose wedding photo?” Loki repeated while he and Tony approached hesitantly. 

“Aw, Tony! You’re so happy, look!” Pepper shoved the TemPad, equipped with the wedding photo of Loki Odinson and Tony Stark, into the Avenger’s face. Tony’s complexion grew worrying pale while Loki’s face took on a distinctly green hue. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony began in a choked voice, “but in what universe-” 

“Universe 465281 apparently,” Pepper supplied, scrolling through more photos. “You two get your puppy to be ring bearer?? How cute is that?” 

“Might I inquire the location of the nearest restroom?” Loki asked. “I suddenly feel the urge to vomit.” 

“Nope, not in my restroom you’re not," Tony said. "Actually, I think it’s time for you to go. You’ve overstayed your welcome.” 

“For once we are in agreement.” With a poof of magic Loki was dressed back in his standard TVA suit. He straightened his tie. “Tony, I say this with the deepest sincerity, please try to keep out of trouble. I'd really rather not be called in to save you again."

“Right back at you, Bambi,” Tony quipped. 

“Ugh, I’ve already told you,” Loki seethed, barely restrained magic sparking at his fingertips, “I don’t like that-”

“Okay, let’s go.” Mobius steered Loki towards an already open timedoor. “Pepper, Tony, a pleasure. We’ll keep an eye on your timeline for a few days. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll cross paths again."

“Yeah, no. If I have any luck at all, see you never. Buh-bye now,” Tony finished. 

Mobius and Loki stepped back to the TVA. Mobius turned laughing, ready to apologize for keeping the information about Timeline 465281 a secret, but found himself suddenly wrapped in a tight hug from the god. 

“Oof, hey there Lokes. I know I get jealous sometimes but, trust me, I’m not concerned at all about you running off with-” 

“Are you okay?” Loki interrupted quietly. He pulled back with an examining gaze. “What do you need from me? I know today was difficult for you.” 

Mobius’ heart softened at the compassion on Loki’s face and he pulled Loki in for another hug. His headache had long since subsided but his brain was still foggy and he felt more exhausted than he had in months. 

 “I’ll be alright. Thank you Loki. Thank you for seeing what I have a hard time seeing myself.” 

Loki tightened his arms around Mobius and laid a kiss to his brow. “I’m just glad I was there to help you today. You are there so often for me, please don’t shut me out anymore. I want to be here for you. We all want to be here for you; you’re not alone anymore.”   

“I know.” 

The TemPad in Mobius’ pocket gave an obnoxiously loud trill. He’d never heard that sound before. Mobius flinched and pulled it out of his pocket, what was going on now? He let out a soft chuckle of surprise when he saw the message that flashed across the screen. 

728 hours worked. Caseload for Agent MMM5313 frozen. Mandatory vacation required. 

“Well,” Loki smirked, looking over his shoulder, “I see B-15 is putting her Deputy Director privileges to good use. You’re not going to try and argue with her on this, are you?” 

“No,” Mobius laughed. “I’m not. She’s right. I could definitely use a vacation.” 

“Well then Director,” Loki hummed. “Where shall we go?” 

“You know… I was thinking you might be right about a remodel to our vacation home. What do you say we give Stark a run for his money and see who can make the best Malibu beach house?” 

[theearlgreymage]

It is yet another Six Sentence Sunday, and I have only two more Sunday's until break. The freedom is close. I can taste it.

Thankfully, these last two weeks should be a breeze and I can get back in a more regular groove with writing.

Maybe.

Here's hoping at least.

Hello to the wonderful @artsyunderstudy @nausikaaa @aristocratic-otter @confused-bi-queer @rimeswithpurple and @ic3-que3n for tagging me despite my lack of posting lately. You are all amazing <3

Despite my quietness, I have been tapping away at a couple of different projects. So, enjoy six series of six sentences --

COBB Project #1

She’s been making these excursions on her own every few months. Claiming them to be for her research, but I followed her last time. I saw the supplies she took, and didn’t bring back with her. We were outside Bristol when I lost track of her. Somehow she managed to lose all her supplies and beat me back to Watford.  There’s no way she managed that on her own.  But until she’s willing to admit the truth to me, I’m on my own with finding Simon.

COBB Project #2

Coward.  It’s the last word I’ll hear from him for a while as I step into the warm sunshine. While he can technically reach me beyond the Underworld, it is a lot harder for him to do. From what I can tell, it’s not worth the effort.  Not caring whether the chlamys around my shoulder gets dirty, I collapse onto my back into the grass. Letting the sun warm my chilled skin. 

A Gift for Someone

Nothing to see here. I wonder how many other students at Watford have used this spell for elicit sexual acts. How many students have had their trousers pulled down in the middle of the Great Lawn with none of us being the wiser? Of course, this isn't the Great Lawn - it's the back table in Astronomy that I'm crouched beneath. And it's not just any student who's trousers I'm pulling down eagerly. They're Simon Snow's trousers.

Another Gift for Someone

The snap of leather against leather sends a chill down my spine. I do my best to conceal it. The click of heeled boots on the wooden floor let me know that he's walking towards me, and still I fight the urge to shiver in anticipation. But when I feel the soft brush of the collar and warm press of fingers on my throat, I can't help but shudder. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Something I'm working on in secret that may or may not see the light of day

Even if I’d come to accept myself more - feel more comfortable as my own individual person - I was still hung-up on the idea of having children that weren’t mine. It became an even bigger issue after Simon admitted to wanting a child. My mind became full of the impossible; of a small child with golden skin, freckles, dark hair, curls, and light colored eyes.  We thought it impossible, and set the topic off to the side. There were plenty of other things for us to worry over. My graduation and the wedding being the top two items on the list.

Chapter 4 of Infinity in Your Chest Pocket

This time, when I spot the movement out of the bedroom window I don't hesitate to leave the room. Fuck these wraiths. I'm not spending another night alone in a room with them. Baz can complain about me following him into the woods all he wants. It's not like he's doing anything all that secretive. We both know that I know that he's a vampire - one that has apparently never tasted human blood.

Tags and Hello's to Everyone under the Cut. Please know that I am eternally excited over everyone's projects and cannot get enough of the talent you all have. Also, I officially made a gosh darn spreadsheet to keep track of people for tagging!

@aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @buffy @captain-aralias @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @erzbethluna @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @foolofabookwyrm-activated @gekkoinapeartree @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @upuntil6am @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[gay-mathematician-portmanteau]

Single thread compendium episode 1: my single thread math series isn't gaining the traction i’d hoped for. rather than believing the series just isn’t good or that i’ve possibly failed in some way, we’re going to go ahead and explain the joke (because obviously, that will make it funnier).

the series might be beyond my skills as a writer, so we’ll see if this actually helps.

the series is obviously centered around math. it’s best defined as a loose collection of absurd math jokes, which may or may not be interconnected in some way. the hope is that people who aren’t necessarily interested in mathematics can still understand the jokes and find them funny. at the same time, i’m trying to include enough mathematical depth that those who are into math will get a little extra punchline to enjoy. i succeed more often at the latter than the former,  but i genuinely believe you don’t need math knowledge to enjoy the series. 

if this sounds interesting to you and you’d like to experience the series as intended, i’d encourage you to stop reading here. From this point forward, i’ll be discussing topics that are intentionally left vague in the series. if you do decide to keep reading, that’s totally okay—the speculation i’m hoping to encourage can be pretty energy-intensive, and it’s completely valid not to have the space to dedicate to such a ridiculous project. you can find the posts under the tag #single thread math on my blog.

the truest focus of the series is on unnamed characters. my hope is to encourage the reader to grow attached to the characters and assign to them personhood through their beliefs, actions, and interactions without my ever having to explicitly discuss the characters (i’ve clearly already failed at this goal).

in this post, I’m featuring the first two (and my favorite) characters. i usually refer to them as the algebraist and the analyst in my head.

for those less familiar with the politics of theoretical mathematics: there are algebraists and analysts who view their subjects as irreconcilable. while i don’t share this opinion, i thought it would be funny to highlight this “war” between the characters (whose personalities reflect stereotypes about real analysts and algebraists, along with the subjects themselves).

the algebraist is smug, arrogant, and clever. her problem is that she never stops to consider whether she might be wrong. she’s so fixated on meta-mathematics that she loses sight of the concrete. i felt this was an important trait to highlight right from the first story arc of the series (the posts i’ll feature here).

the analyst, by contrast, is neurotic, devoted, and meticulous. she has a near-fanatical obsession with propriety and rigor, often rejecting conclusions if she finds the proofs invalid for any reason. i also decided early on that she would hate cantor. For those unfamiliar, cantor is most famous for proving that there are more real numbers than natural numbers (yes, some infinities are larger than others—very original reference). his work is foundational to analysis, so the analyst’s hatred of him is a bit of an issue for her prospects.

i’m not going to explain the math the posts contain here, but i hope anyone who wants such explanations will be willing to reach out to me via dm or ask. i’m truly always willing to answer such questions!

that’s all i have right now! the following entries in the series make up the first story arc, introducing the dynamic between the algebraist and the analyst. if you don’t enjoy math, i hope you’re able to find humor in the characters themselves. if you do enjoy math, i hope you appreciate the balance I have attempted to strike between absurdity and depth—i worked very hard on it.

episode 2: i’m pretty sure that if i write the derivative of the maclaurin expansion of \e^x\ out far enough, i’ll find a term that doesn’t perfectly match the original. this is how a real analyst proves something. take notes, cantor.

episode 7: if you’re close enough to the equator, polynomials are actually just piecewise-defined lines.

episode 8: okay, the derivative thing didn't take me quite as long as i expected. admittedly, i was wrong. nonetheless, i'm absolutely certain that the integral of the maclaurin expansion of e^x will have mismatched terms and i'll finally be vindicated in my support for cantor's institutionalization. 

episode 9: there's been a lot of talk on here about these taylor polynomial things, so i went to the equator to prove that they're nonsense.

claim: the maclaurin expansion for \e^x\ is not equal to the function \e^x.\ proof: consider the maclaurin expansion given by $$1+x+(1/2)x^2+…+(1/n!)x^n$$. this is trivially equivalent to $$1 \land x \land ((1/2)+2x) \land … \land (1/n!!)+nx$$. this can be rewritten as the piecewise function $$\begin{cases} 1&\text{if} x \le 0\\lim_{n \rightarrow \infty} \frac{1}{n!}+nx&\text{if} 0 < x \end{cases}$$ examine also $$e^x = \prod_{1}^{x}(e) = \sum_{1}^{x}e = ex$$.

it is easy to see that these functions are not equal to one another.

i don't know why anyone studies anything other than algebra. you're welcome, analysts.

episode 12: i just learned about this nifty induction thing. if only i had known about it a couple of weeks ago, then i wouldn't have needed to spend eternity writing out every single term of the derivative and integral of the maclaurin expansion of e^x. now, though, no cyclic set is safe from my proofs.

claim: the maclaurin expansion of \e^x\ is its own derivative.

proof: consider the maclaurin expansion of the function \e^x\ given by $$\sum_{n = 1}^{\infty}\frac{1}{n!}x^{n}$$ the derivative of sums is the sum of derivatives, allowing us to focus on terms of the form $$\frac{1}{j!}x^{j} | j \in \mathbb{N}$$

consider now the base case n=1. $$\frac{1}{1!}x^{1} = x$$ examine the derivative of this function. $$\frac{d}{dx}\left[x\right] = 1 = \frac{1}{0!}x^{0}$$ since this is a term of our original maclaurin expansion, the base case holds. now, examine the case $$n = k | k \ge 1$$ this term is given by $$\frac{1}{k!}x^{k}$$ suppose it has a derivative in the original maclaurin expansion given by $$\frac{1}{(k-1)!}x^{k-1}$$ lastly, examine the case n=k+1. $$\frac{d}{dx}\left[\frac{1}{(k+1)!}x^{k+1}\right] = \frac{d}{dx}\left[\frac{1}{k+1}x\frac{1}{k!}x^{k}\right]$$ which allows us to apply our assumption with the product rule. $$\frac{1}{k+1}\frac{1}{k!}x^{k}+\frac{1}{k}x\frac{1}{(k-1)!}x^{k-1}$$ we can now simplify the products in each term $$\frac{1}{(k+1)k!}x^{k}+\frac{1}{(k+1)(k-1)!}x^{k}$$ adding the fractions normally gives us $$\frac{k+1}{(k+1)k!}x^{k} = \frac{1}{k!}x^{k}$$ by induction, since this step holds for n=k+1, this holds for all natural numbers n. as a result, the derivative of any term of the maclaurin expansion is a term of the maclaurin expansion, demonstrating that the two functions are equal.

[elysian-flame]

❤️✨Even if I knew I was bound to fall for him,

I wouldn’t have stopped, not even for a breath.

Why would I?

You know how they say when you leap from heights,

The water below turns to stone?

But I fell for this man,

And though I fear the water,

Though I fear the unknown,

I stood at the edge of the world,

And I jumped.

No hesitation, no pause.

No first thought, no second thought.

I just let go, and I fell.

Love doesn’t think, it doesn’t calculate,

It doesn’t ask, "What if I break?"

Love leaps, trusting the fall,

Trusting that something beyond reason will catch it.

And there I was, floating.

Not sinking, not crashing,

But gliding on the surface of something

I thought would drown me.

I realized in that moment

That love is not like water turning to concrete;

It is like air,

Invisible, weightless, and yet it holds you,

Even when you expect to fall hard.

It is said that love isn’t something you choose,

It’s a state of being,

And I let myself be swept into that state,

Without fear, without regret.

Love never fears the fall,

For it knows there’s no end,

Only the infinity of the experience.

So, I jumped,

And when I touched the sky,

I knew I’d never regret it.

Not today, not in a thousand lifetimes.

In love, time ceases to matter.

It is neither past nor future;

It simply *is.*

And when you’re in it,

You don’t ask for guarantees,

You don’t need safety nets,

You just dive, you just trust.

It is said, "Love is not afraid of drowning,

For it is the ocean itself."

And though I feared the water,

I found that in him, I was not sinking,

But learning to swim.

Now, I float with ease,

My heart light, my soul unburdened.

No regrets, not for a single heartbeat.

Not for thousands of years to come.

For when love comes,

You don’t resist it;

You jump, and you let it carry you away.

-elsy❤️ 🔥

[t-nd-rfoot]

love the fun headcanon idea, and i’d love for you to do 🤠 for bob!

💌 laracrofted

REACH FOR THE SKY aka Bob loving Toy Story Headcanons

Bob’s favorite Pixar movie is Toy Story, and for very good reason.

Theme Fluff

Warnings One mention of animal birth but no details...maybe some inaccurate Navy/wizzo info sprinkled in there (?)

Word Count 826

Note @laracrofted oh my honey, thank you so much for being patient with this! I also apologize for two things: 1. for making this not a Bob x reader thing if you were expecting it 😭 and 2. for going overboard...like, extremely overboard... 🫣 thank you so much again for requesting and waiting, I hope you enjoy it!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

When Bob was 6 years old, he was convinced that Toy Story was based on him

Not so much because he thought his toys came to life when he wasn’t looking (but that didn’t stop him from trying to see if they did) but because like Andy, his two main interests were cowboys and aerospace

He came to the realization when he watched the movie for the first time on VHS a few days before watching Toy Story 2 in the theater (his first theater movie)

Since he spent many summer and winter vacations on his uncle’s ranch, he grew up wanting to be a cowboy after watching his dad and other relatives work with the cattle

Every themed birthday, preschool dress up day, and halloween were spent in a cowboy costume since he already owned a Stetson and boots

Mama Floyd was actually thankful for that since she didn’t always have the time to make or look for costumes every year

There was also no use suggesting anything else since he wasn’t interested in anything else

In fact, working on the ranch was his original childhood dream before he wanted to be a pilot

He also has a severely cute home video and several pictures of the first time he rode a horse…well, more like sat on a horse

The horse’s reins were tied to a fence, and toddler Bob was sat on the saddle, his dad’s hands holding him tightly

“Look, Momma! I’m just like Daddy!”

And then it was time to fly back home, so he traded horses for airplanes, especially after the first plane ride he remembered taking

Bob was also definitely that kid that was practically glued to the window at an airport, watching the planes taxi, take off, and land

He also refused to sleep on a plane ride, fighting off a nap for as long as he could so he could look out the window to look down at the land below, while singing The Airplane Song from Barney

After watching Toy Story, he would pretend that the plane was a spaceship and that he was Buzz Lightyear

Right before the plane would take off down the runway, he’d say, “To infinity and beyond!”

To this day, one of Papa Floyd’s most embarrassing moments was when Bob was able to get his seatbelt off, stood up on his seat, and kept pressing the flight attendant call button to “report his mission log”

As he grew up and grew out of his Toy Story obsession, he never really grew out of his love for the movie (who wouldn’t? Toy Story is an animated classic!) and part of him still carried his inner Andy

When he was 12, he volunteered around the ranch whenever he visited

One of the first things he had to do was assist his uncle in helping one of the mares give birth, and when his uncle asked what the should name the foal, he chose the name Bullseye

Once Bullseye was big enough to ride, he became Bob’s horse, and when Bob wasn’t around, he trusted his uncle and cousins to take care of Bullseye until he came back

He kept his collection of books and pictures of aviation in his bedroom back home

When he was 16, he decided to join the Navy so he could fly as much as he could

(He remembers that conversation with his parents perfectly)

“Does it have to be the Navy, though? Why not fly commercial planes? Or why not just be an engineer?”

“I wanna be in the sky, Ma. And it’s more than just flying or being a co-pilot. There’s tactics, weapons, navigation…if I’m going to be on a plane, might as well go all the way. And I want to feel the physics behind it too, not just study it.”

“And here we were thinking you were gonna be an astronaut! Especially with all those space shows and books of yours, not to mention all those NASA posters.”

“That would be pretty cool too, Pa, but at least you guys would probably get to visit me wherever I’m based. I don’t think it would be that easy for you guys to go up to the International Space Station.”

“Well, we still love you to the moon and back, honey. We’re so proud of you!”

The night before he left, his parents gave him an envelope, telling him to open it after he left

It contained a letter from them saying how much they’ll miss him and how they’re so proud of him

His dad inserted an old polaroid of toddler Bob wearing his cowboy outfit while sitting on a horse, his penmanship spelling out in the space below ‘Reach for the sky!’

And his mom made and added to the envelope three patches: a sheriff’s star, a space ranger badge, and a blue square patch with a distinctive cloud, reminiscent of his favorite childhood movie.

Tag List @roostersrooster @rosesvioletshardy @bonitanightmxres @avaleineandafryingpan @bradshawseresinbabe @hangmanbrainrot @babyonboardfloyd @demxters @bradshawseresinbabe @footprintsinthesxnd

Add yourself to my tag list!

Disclaimer  I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

[segretomericanbuilt]

@chanceollie

I know this might sound cliche or corny, but when you grow up with a role model like this man, you are blessed beyond measure. When you have someone to look up to, encourage you, and push you to go beyond, you better sure as hell appreciate them. I remember the day he left the US to go to Iraq, I was only 14. I will never forget how mad I was at him for leaving, but how upset I was that there was a very high possibility that he would not return. As time had passed though, I was nothing but proud of my big brother. When he deployed I cried like a baby, when he returned and got discharged, I still cried like a baby. My family and I were so damn proud of him, and we still are. Here he is seven years after coming and staying home, he’s still serving our country. It might sound dumb to you, but he’s my fuckin hero man! I can’t say enough to describe how fuckin blessed and grateful I am to have my big brother next to me just doin’ life. He pushes me to be a better man, and although I might get mad at him in that moment for being a complete asshole, I realize later that he only does it to make me go further and become a man I never thought I would be, and because he loves and cares about me. Not just me, he cares and loves everyone he comes in contact with. Y’all!! I could go on, but I’d bore you… just wanted to say… HAPPY FINALLY DISCHARGED 7th anniversary Ollie, LOVE YOU TO INFINITY brother! 🇺🇸❤️

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

Rated M

“Fuck me, of course it had to be a trick room.”

Satoru growled these words as he wandered restlessly down the accursed tunnels. The signs had been everywhere, plain as day. He hated himself for not seeing it sooner. Most Domains were imbued with hidden abilities meant to stifle opponents; sub-degree temperatures, rugged terrain, psychological illusions. Trick rooms functioned as a deadly concoction of all three, a deterrent used to divide and conquer. How it worked was if the Domain sensed more than one opponent — particularly if the opponent had stronger cursed energy (ie, him) — it would try to split the opponents apart, randomly moving them to different locations in the Domain like pieces on a board game, and then selectively eliminating the individuals one by one. Satoru had never been inside a trick room, but studied them plenty in school way back when. The key strategy was to “trick” the trick room, which could be accomplished by maintaining physical contact with another person. That way the trick room couldn’t discern whether the opponent was more than one, meaning Satoru shouldn’t have let go of Hannah’s hand. The trick room now decided it was playing Keep Away and transported his wife somewhere beyond his reach. In addition to being a colossal pervert, he was also a colossal dumbass. He wanted to punch something. If he got her killed for this he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Satoru walked past another one of those eyeball things Hannah and him encountered earlier. It scuttled on the wall and blinked at him. He hurled a disc of cursed energy at it. The eyeball splattered in an array of guts and goo, its detached limbs twitching to get away. He felt nothing for it.

I’d probably become a hermit, he thought dolefully, switching back to his initial question. Seems appropriate, given all the crap they’ve put me through.

Appropriate, indeed. If a sorcerer’s mission was to prevent calamity brought on by cursed spirits and maintain the peace and security of society, then Satoru would say he had done more than his fair share. It was what he was destined to do, they said. You're the Six Eyes wielder. You have the world at your fingertips.

Hannah’s death would drive a burning stake right through that bullshit narrative. It wouldn’t be the Limitless, Infinity, or even the Six Eyes responsible for her death. It would be him. His arrogance. His failure. He let another person, someone so innocent, so kind, die on his watch. Destiny had chosen the wrong person to wield this power. Her death would be his greatest suffering.

So he’d build a hut on a high mountain overlooking the sea. Shave his head and renounce all earthly pleasures - even sweets if he had to - and live off the land. Forage for berries or some shit. Drink water from a stream. Compose poetry and get in touch with his sensitive side. Maybe write something insightful they’d teach the kiddos centuries down the road. However he chose to bide his time, it’d be spent waiting for the next life. The Gojo line would follow the way of the dinosaurs; Extinction.

And as he reflected upon his family’s demise and the possibility of being reborn in one of the eight burning hells, Satoru began monotonously twirling his wedding ring with his thumb. It was a habit he had picked up after going bare knuckled for so many years. The gold felt moored to his finger. He could pull, twist, scrape, and bite, and still the band wouldn’t — Wait a minute. Yes. Yes, of course. The ring! Hannah was wearing her wedding ring too. Nanami said cursed spirits shouldn’t be able to detect her signature within a hundred meter radius. The trick room was alerted of her presence because she was a living being, but even then, the protective charm imbued on her ring should throw the curse off the trail. And she wasn’t completely defenseless. There was also the knife he gave her.

Knowing this reassured him a little. Hannah was smart. She wouldn’t try anything reckless. She would be alright and would be found. He had to believe that.

Satoru walked briskly down the curse-infested Domain, his legs functioning on their own accord. The headache winding up the bass of his skull had intensified. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place. He turned the corner and caught the shine of something glittering near the wall.

Hannah’s shoes. All night he had been sneaking glances of her struggling to wear them. Must’ve finally taken them off. Good. It meant she had been here. She was alive. He then caught the glowing residuals littering the ground like toxic paw prints. A frown formed on his face.

The curse had been here too.

Satoru did not consider himself to have a short-fuse. He had his moments during the lonely-spent summers of his youth, but on the whole, anger did not come naturally to him. It was too much work, too much hassle. And yet eyeing the residual matrix on the ground, the knowledge that this curse was looking to harm someone he cared about, made Satoru's piss boil. The rage seemed all consuming. The kind of irrational, split-second rage that got drivers killed because they weren’t minding the road, but for Satoru brought everything into focus. He could feel his orientation slip, the lines between sanity and madness blurring together like dopamine straight to the head. His body hummed in anticipation, his heart beated excitedly. He felt the pull on his lips, cursed energy drawing around him like he was the center of gravity. He was going to tear this curse apart, limb from limb, bone from bone.

And he was going to enjoy every last fucking second of it.

Hiro watched the golden light radiate from Hannah’s hands, brightening both ends of the tunnel. He could see what she looked like now. The sparkly evening dress she wore was tattered, a long jagged slit exposing her leg. And her auburn hair was disheveled and matted. She was pretty, he thought. In that foreign kind of way. But with her shoeless feet, she looked like a crazed wildling venturing out of the woods after surviving a lifetime on her own. He shivered. If someone like her looked that way, what must he look like?

The boy continued watching the concentration evolve on her face, the furrowed brow and twitching lips. After approaching something short of twenty minutes, the golden light began fading like the flame of a candle. The tunnel grew dark again. In a great exhale, Hannah lowered her arms. Every part of her body felt drained of energy. She had only ever tried it on plants, not people. In essence, it was easier to grow a rose bush than heal a paper cut or a seven inch gash on a child’s leg. The process left her seeing vertigo and she had difficulty staying upright. Her stomach became slightly nauseous, and the ill feeling quickly spread to the rest of her body. But the plan had worked. She had successfully extracted most, if not all, of the cursed energy fettered in Kenta’s wound. The boy began to stir. His eyes fluttered.

“Onī-san,” he said groggily.

“Kenta!” Hiro embraced his baby brother. “You’re alive!”

Kenta sleepily looked around and sat up, rubbing his crusty eyelids. He didn’t know why Nii-san was crying or who turned off all the lights or why it smelled like poo. And for some confusing reason the top of his leg was itchy and his tummy hurt.

“Where’s Mama?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” Hiro said. “Hannah’s gonna help us look for her. And Papa.”

“Hannah? Who’s that?”

“This nice lady here.” Hiro grabbed Hannah’s sweaty hand in the dark and tried pulling her for Kenta to see.

The dazed four year old squinted his eyes. He could just make out the shaded outline of the lady his brother had named. He caught the low-lit sparkles of her dress, something shining like two eyes and long hair. “Woah,” he said. “Is she cool like big brother?”

“Yeah, she’s cool. She made your leg all better. See?”

Of course, this was a silly thing to say. The four year old couldn’t see anything past his nose, nor did he understand the previous ramifications of his leg. His eyes began to lull, feeling tired.

“All better,” Kenta yawned, closing his lids dreamily. “Night night, Onī-san.”

Hiro panicked when his brother’s body went slack. “No, Kenta!”

This prompted Hannah to snap from her stupor and return to Kenta’s aid. She touched his forehead. It was still warm. The fever hadn’t broken. She quickly checked his vitals, feeling his wrist to count the heartbeats with her fingers like she’d been trained to do in the hospitals. 87 beats. A steady pulse at rest. Anything over 110 was life threatening.

“He’s stable,” she assured, gently sweeping the little boy's hair to one side. “For now, at least.” Kenta being knocked cold could be due to a whole range of factors. Dehydration being one. An adult could last three days without drinking water. Hannah didn’t know the duration a child could last, and she wasn’t going to sit there and find out.

She grabbed Hiro’s hand.

“We need to move.”

Hiro felt something like a whimper climb up the back of his throat. “But I’m scared.”

Hannah squeezed.

“I know you are,” she said shakily. “I’m scared too. But I have someone here who’s looking for us. He knows a way out of this place. So it’s very important that we reach him before the monster — ”

Upon mentioning the monster, the six year old began to cry, tears trickling down his pudgy face. Hannah leaned close and swiped her thumb across his cheek, reminiscent of something his Mama would do.

“You have to be brave now, Hiro,” she urged. “You have to be brave for Kenta. Can you do that for me? Be brave?”

Hiro was deeply afraid, more so than ever, but he knew Hannah was trying to help, and wiped the drainage from his nose. “You w-won’t let go?” he sniffed.

“No.” She clasped his one tiny hand in hers like a knight taking a solemn oath. “I promise I won’t let go. I’m going to be holding your hand like this the whole time.”

Sniffling, Hiro took back the tantō in his wobbly hands. Hannah kneeled down next to Kenta and slipped his arms over her shoulders, carrying him piggyback and once more grabbed for Hiro’s open hand. With a benumbed tentativeness, the human trio staggered through the fleshy Domain like three blind mice — one sleeping, two awake — weaving and side-stepping over sharp, pointy fragments that jutted out of the ground like rotted teeth in a gum line. They muddled through bones and sludge and a whole host of other half-shadowed things that skittered in the dark. The passage seemed to stretch on for eternity, not knowing where it led. Hannah listened to Kenta’s soft breathing as he slept on her back. She would have to administer immediate CPR if his breathing became too erratic and arrest his heart. So far, all was good. His head snuggled comfortably on her shoulder. She readjusted her grip under his leg so he wouldn’t slide off.

Hiro clutched tightly to Hannah’s free hand, Stinging Nettle held in the other. He stayed very close, repeating her words of “You have to be brave” in his head like the lyrics to a favorite song. It was deafeningly quiet. They could only hear their labored breathing and the uneasy squish their footsteps made as inert lumps of lord-knows-what shifted beneath them.

The discs in Hannah’s spine ached from being awkwardly bent over with the weight of a four year old. Her neck felt stiff. She struggled to keep her head up, she was so tired. A part of her wanted to stop and take a break, but her conscience screamed, No, you bloody idiot! Stay awake!! There was no falling asleep. She had children to protect. Children whose lives depended on her. Stay awake. Stay awake.

Up ahead the ground dipped and gouged. The cave-like stench grew stronger the more they shuffled through the grime, a smell of rot and age and things long-ago dead. The walls drew inwards, shrinking, corralling them like herding animals. The ground, like cold jelly.

Hannah had forgotten her rosary beads in her evening bag, currently rattling inside her husband's back pocket along with her gloves. She wished she had them with her. The beads.

Much of what humans knew about angels and demons and the paranormal remained a mystery, but not all. For instance, you could not differentiate between an angel and a demon just by looking at them. They lacked physical bodies and could alter their appearance at will and had perfect knowledge. The Italian mystic Padre Pio talked of demons taking the guise of the Blessed Virgin in order to trick and deceive, while Scripture spoke of angels appearing as monstrous beasts with four faces, four wings, and hooves. That’s why you were advised to “test the spirits” either by spraying holy water, showing a holy image, or invoking the name of God. Pio also wrote that the number of demons far exceeded that of human beings, that “if they were capable of assuming a form as tiny as a grain of sand, they would block out the sun.” Hannah remembered listening to these accounts as a child before the visions became too great. At night she would lie awake in her bed clutching a crucifix and rosary, praying, invoking the name of God, afraid a demon would emerge from the shadows and possess her. However, fallen angels were restricted in their malice. They could only possess, tempt, harass, and frighten. They were not granted permission to kill or maim you. And holy angels did not go around possessing people.

Curses on the one hand were separate from demons and angels, and very much could kill you. Nor could they be cast out using traditional methods like holy images and prayer. So what were they? Why did they exist? Where did they come from? Ah, these were questions. Early theologians speculated that curses were manifestations of the Wicked One, but these theories were swiftly debunked. Satan could not “create” anything, only destroy. A better explanation came from Thomas Aquinas’ secret writings on the invisible and demonic, saying that curses were likely of human origin; the consequence for mankind’s fallen status and the existence of sin. Opposing faiths more or less concurred with Aquinas’ theory, some of whom were centuries ahead of the Dominican friar. The Great Master Kūkai went so far as to suggest that curses were perhaps, in some strange-demented way “more human than not.” What that meant exactly remained a mystery.

Still, no one faith or school of thought could conjure a sufficient answer as to why curses wandered the earth, and why Japan in particular spawned such a disproportionate number. What they could agree on were the solutions: Jujutsu. Sorcerery. Cursed energy. Exorcism.

But Hannah was not a sorcerer. She could not manipulate curse energy. She did not know how to fight something more powerful than herself. Heal, maybe. Fight, no. Helpless as a hostage locked in the boot of a burning car falling over a cliff. She was merely human. A human that could do nothing except get on her knees and pray.

Because they were not alone in the tunnel anymore. Something was out there. It sent her heart racing, that sudden, paranoid feeling they were being followed. Hannah’s grip on Hiro tightened, clinging to him as though he’d be lost forever if she let go. She walked faster. Hiro could sense it too. His eyes couldn’t help but jerk to a spot behind them.

Then they heard a noise.

It seemed at first far away, then very close; distant and then rushing ominously toward them all at once. Their eyes caught it. Something large and pale dropped to the ground with a silent whump, slowly creeping forward. A bone white face like a kabuki mask with yellow eyes rabid as disease shone from the shadows. It had been crawling on the walls like a beetle. They saw its mouth cleave into a hyper-stretched grin. The tiniest hint of acid tickled its throat as the thing spoke.

“RUN.”

Hannah did just that. She yanked Hiro by the arm with all her might and high-tailed him in the opposite direction. Her lungs, which had felt short of oxygen, seemed to give way to new breath, heart galloping in her chest. Sharp, cutting objects stoked her feet, pins and needles, slicing right through flesh and bone. She winced, but did not falter. The burning adrenaline flowing through her body nullified most of the pain. Hiro felt weightless. Her 5’1, hundred-twenty pound ass was literally dragging him down the tunnel. He was wailing and screaming, calling out for his mother. And only then did Hannah come to understand that the curse wasn’t trailing behind them, hot on their heels. It had waited. The evil thing had given them a head start because it wanted to chase. It wanted to hunt.

“RUN! RUN!!! RUN!!!!”

A hideous, ululating laugh echoed throughout the void as it shouted this, rising and falling in hysteric yips. Loud. Splintering. She could hear its long thundering gate stampeding down the grimy tunnel like the Minotaur from Daedalus’ labyrinth. Gaining on them, faster and faster. Hannah thought she felt a claw graze her cheek, missing by a hair, almost taking a swipe at Kenta, who was still knocked unconscious on her back, had she not moved her head.

They kept running. Hannah’s heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Her breaths heaved like sobs. She had no idea where they were going. She looked left and right, saw an opening and swerved hard on her heels, thinking it would take them somewhere.

Except it didn’t.

They had reached a dead end.

Hannah spun around. 

The curse was there, crouched on all fours, stalking menacingly towards them. Hiro let out a boyish scream, cowering behind Hannah. The curse laughed and in two short steps was right on top of them. She watched it raise a gangrenous hand.

“I’LL FEAST ON YOUR BONES!!”

Hannah shut her eyes and braced for the end, doing her best to shield Hiro and Kenta from being struck. The scream she’d been holding stayed in her mouth, until...

“Hey, ugly.”

Everyone, curse and human, stopped. Hannah’s heart leapt. She knew that voice. Her eyes cracked just a sliver to see Satoru illuminated in a scarlet haze. An orb of cursed energy swirled on the tip of his finger.

“Feast on this.”

He flicked the red orb at the curse like a yo-yo, watching it spin, obliterating the whole right half of the spirits’ face upon making contact. It’s skull busted open like a gourd, shards of broken cranium splitting outward and purple mist spraying. The curse howled, taking four shambling steps back.

Hannah did not waver. She hooked an arm around Hiro’s small torso, and with her other hand tightly gripped Kenta’s arms dangling around her neck, and ran like hell. The curse was too stunned by the blast to prevent her from joining the Six Eyes wielder on the other side

“Oi, kid,” Satoru said, stopping them. “Mind if I borrow that for a sec?”

He was gesturing to Stinging Nettle, still wedged in Hiro’s fist. By some miracle, he hadn’t dropped it. Hannah set the boy down. He looked warily at her for permission.

“It’s alright,” she said, nodding her head encouragingly. “This is my…friend I was talking to you about.”

Satoru gave her a confounded look. Friend? But kept quiet. No one noticed.

The boy turned around and gazed up at the Six Eyes wielder, mouth agape, like he was staring up at a great monument, and wordlessly held out the knife. Satoru smirked and casually took it from him. He liked it when kids looked at him that way; Totally awestruck. Gotta be the height.

He then motioned with his finger for Hannah to come over he whipped out her belongings from his pockets.

“Here.”

She took the jewelry and gloves and observed him placing the knife in his pocket, blade facing up so the steel poked out the back. He then snapped off his silver cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves and only then did she recall the conversation they had before becoming separated, how she had verbally lambasted him like a child. How trivial and immature it seemed then. Her eyes flitted back to the writhing curse and anxiously bit her lip.

“So, I’m guessing you have a plan?”

He glanced at her.

“Plan? There ain’t no plan."

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“I know. So am I.”

The mixture of guilt and gladness was too great for her to withstand.

“Then is it too soon to offer an apology?”

“An apology?” he asked. “What for?”

“For how I behaved earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have gotten — ”

Satoru stepped forward and gently cupped her cheek. “We can talk about it later, alright?”

“But…” She was going to argue, but with the look he was giving her she quickly conceded, leaning her cupped cheek into his palm. The action felt natural. “Alright, later then.”

“Cool.” He smiled and flitted his eyes at the little boy, asleep, hanging from Hannah’s shoulder like a baby orangutan. “By the way, those are some cute kids. Good job looking after them.”

She snorted a dry laugh. “Thanks.”

“Try not to disappear again.”

“I won’t,” she said. “Be careful.”

Satoru gave her a gratuitous smirk. “Always.” And turned around to finish the fight.

If this were a movie, the soundtrack would begin playing some epic Hans-Zimmer-style music; Neo fighting Agent Smith in the rain, or Luke Skywalker dueling Darth Vader for the last time. Usually there would be a bit of dialogue stippled in where the hero makes the villain aware of why they must die, and the villain laughs and explains why the hero is blindsighted by their sense of justice. If the script is written well, perhaps you’ll be made to sympathize with the villain. Gain a better understanding of their motives and why they chose to become evil in the first place, while still rooting for the hero to win. Maybe the villain sees the error of their ways and is given a chance to redeem themselves. Or perhaps in the heat of battle, the hero decides they’ve got it all wrong and the villain is right. Whatever happens, it always goes the same: Conflict. Climax. Resolution. They all lived happily ever after (for the most part). The end.

But curses didn’t come with Happy Ever Afters. They could not be reasoned with. They could not be redeemed. A curse only had the worst of intentions; one dimensional characters at their finest. For that, there could be no sympathy. Made them easier to kill. There was never any guilt associated when excorcizing a curse.

The curse in question was still reeling from the hit. Satoru rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

“What’s the matter, big guy? That all ya got?”

The curse narrowed its uninjured eyes at the sorcerer, snorting challengingly like a bull. Enraged, it began to quickly heal itself. The pulverized side of its face started to bubble and grow, metastasizing into new skeletal flesh, until the injuries were gone. The curse grinned triumphantly at being made whole again and was on Satoru in a flash, taking a swipe at him with its long, hooked claws. Satoru dodged. The curse swiped again. Once more, Satoru evaded the attack. “Come now. Surely you can do better than that?” he taunted, further prompting the curse to assail the sorcerer in a windmilled frenzy of swipes and jabs.

Satoru sidestepped them like they were aimed to miss, like it was all fun and games, going so far as to openly laugh and hurl insult after insult, dancing endless circles around his aggressor. He didn’t have to show off this much, of course. He’d been itching all night to pull the trigger, to throttle something. He could deliver the finishing blow at any time. But where’s the satisfaction in that? he thought. Patience was a skill like anything else. Let the curse have its moment. Let it stay ignorant of the fact it was nothing more than a puny, nonvenomous snake in the thralls of a mongoose.

Tired of slashing through air, the curse backed away and stretched out its bone-white hand. A swarm of glowing cursed energy gathered around it, but Satoru anticipated this move and smooshed his palms together in a hand sign, thus teleporting in front of the curse. He grabbed its stretched out wrist, bending it back only slightly, and said in a low voice.

“My turn.”

He leaned on the balls of his feet and yanked the curse's wrist all the way back, hearing the metacarpals fracture and break like tiny chicken bones. Pop, pop, pop. The spirit roiled. Satoru shifted on his back foot and swung it upwards in a roundhouse kick. The curse was sent flying. Sparks of blackened energy flashed and flickered, though it couldn’t be seen amidst the dark.

The curse slammed into the wall, but the fleshy tissue coating the tunnel absorbed most of the impact. If the surface were harder, it would’ve crushed the creature’s bones into silt powder and ruptured all its vital organs, to the extent it had any, leaving behind a huge crater. Perhaps that was by design; the Domain was meant to prohibit its prey’s movement like sticky insect tape and function as insulation when taking significant damage. The curse managed to pull itself up, and with wolverine agility lunged for Satoru, joining its clawed fingers together to form a spade and began slashing in a scythe-swinging motion. Satoru kept his hands in his pockets and whistled a carefree tune as the curse kept missing, coming up short like a drunk yokel playing a round of whack-a-mole. New dog. Same old stupid tricks.

“You’re not very bright, are you?” he mocked, looking unbothered. His dress shirt was still tucked and his pants were holeless and his shoes weren’t scuffed. This fight was a breeze. “Do something else. I’m getting bored.”

The curse snarled at the jujutsu sorcerer, low and feral, yellow eyes shining with immense hatred. Instead of taking another swipe at the sorcerer, it got on its hind legs and lunged, mouth wide open, incisors and canines serrated like daggers, going right for Satoru’s neck, but this time the sorcerer did not move. He stood his ground, hooking his index finger over his middle. He waited until the curse’s mouth was inches above his jugular before letting loose, and watched with great satisfaction as the curse’s teeth shattered into a million tiny pieces, falling out and splintering. Gouts of dark purple blood sprayed in every direction. Satoru’s Infinity had created an impenetrable shield, preventing the curse’s teeth from breaking through; no different than chomping into a slab of paved cement.

The cursed spirit cried, full-throated and agonized, stumbling backwards, clutching its newly broken jaw. Satoru seized its neck and forced it to the ground. He took Stinging Nettle from his back pocket and with hunting precision, plunged the blade directly into the middle of the curse’s wrist like a floorboard nail. Its high pitched shriek was nauseating. He then started throwing punch after swinging punch with inbred rapidity. Overhand. Uppercut. Left hook. Right hook. Not giving the curse the opportunity to fight back. Its face jerked forward and down and side to side. Using Infinity as a bludgeon, Satoru’s fist never made contact with the curse. His knuckles commenced beating and smashing. Then he hatched an idea.

“Let's count together, shall we?”

Keeping the curse pinned, Satoru stopped punching and jammed his three fingers straight into one of its four eye sockets, digging all the way through till he found the optic nerve connecting the eye to the brain. He pinched the nerves between his fingers and thumb and pulled. The curse thrashed and struggled, screaming absolute bloody murder, high and inarticulate. With enough persistence the eyeball came popping out, still latched to the optic nerve like an umbilical cord.

“That’s one,” Satoru declared. “How about two?”

The curse writhed and squirmed, trying all it could to break free. Satoru held on and once again burrowed his fingers into a second eye, feeling for the nerve fibers. The tantō lodged to the curse’s wrist would not give, leaving blisters and corroded skin; Stinging Nettle’s hidden ability. Living up to its name, whenever the blade came into contact with a cursed spirit, it would inflame and agitate the flesh like a nest of African killer bees. “NO, NO, NO,” the curse cried. It was becoming desperate. It couldn’t heal itself and fend off the sorcerer simultaneously. That expelled too much energy, so it did the next plausible thing. A wild animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape danger. With all its might, the curse jerked and tugged. Tendons and ligaments tore and dismembered like thin denim. The curse sacrificed its own hand as the steel sliced cleanly through the marrow. Satoru allowed the wraith to slide out from under him.

The curse was slower to get up than before, now missing all its front teeth, skull bashed empty. A smooshed eye dangled from its socket like a pendulum and its right hand was reduced to a stub of purple fodder, giving it a zombie-ish appearance. It attempted to regenerate the mangled hand, but Stinging Nettle’s venom blocked receptors from communicating with each other and the eye wouldn’t heal, nor the hand. That left it with no choice. The curse lifted its remaining hand and aimed it at the Six Eyes wielder. A vortex of dark, swirling purple charged inside its palm and released a pulsating jet of raw cursed energy. Satoru hooked his front fingers again and radiated Infinity for as far as it could go, blocking the tunnel. The beam hit in a miasma of heavy smoke and scorching heat. With no ventilation, the fumes waded and feted.

Silence hung in the air.

The whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

Then in a great heaping wind, the smoke transfigured from an ominous grey, to orange, to finally a violent scarlett hue, surging outwards in every direction. The air cleared. Like the eye of a hurricane, Satoru stood in the center, a black-red ball of energy spun on the tip of his finger, turning the scenery around them a clarion color. The only emotion reflected in his blue eyes was one of pure, unadulterated rage. This had gone on for long enough.

“Jutsushiki Hanten, Aka,” he said boldly, widening into a smirk. Sayonara, asshole.

The red ball of swirling positive energy became a harsh white light and then launched from the sorcerer’s finger like a speeding bullet, crackling, rippling, and in a great burst exited right through the curse’s chest, causing its whole upper body to rupture in a horrid explosion of blood and innards. The curse fell to the ground like a test dummy, gurgling and squelching. Obliterated. No more.

Satoru approached the excorcized spirit. He squatted down and began pilfering through the remains that were sizzling and evaporating into nonbeing, ignoring the smell. And after some more deliberation, he at last withdrew a puce colored finger from the corpse.

The long night was over.

The battle had been won.

[underthe-redhood]

Are there any particular songs/quotes/scenes/stories that remind you of Our Last Chance or that you thought of when writing it? Similarly, are there any characters you think of when writing for the batsis? Personally I think of Tulip from Infinity Train (if you don't know she's a child of divorce who runs away from home BC she can't handle the changes and blames herself for them)

Particularly the quote/scene; "I know what it's like to think i-if you had just been better things would have been different. That you're responsible for fixing things that are beyond your control! Just know I speak from experience when I say this is not your fault. And I still wanna help you - if you'll let me."

And an episode where (in relation to the time travel of the story) Tulip revisits her memories in order to learn a lesson and is stuck commentating on what she wishes she had said but left unheard

"are you... Okay?"

Past tulip: yeah. Why wouldn't I be?

Present tulip: you're not.

Another character is Princess Bubblegum from Adventure time - less her tendency to need control and more about how she puts a lot on her shoulders and ends up pushing others away in her efforts. Plus the contingency plans

"I have to be "always so prepared". We can't all just wing it!I didn't have to always worry about so many things, you know? The Candy Kingdom used to be so small, so manageable. But then it kept growing and growing, and there was always some new disaster to prepare against."

"I tried. I really, really tried. I just... I thought that if I shut everything out and just focused on work, it would all be okay, but look where that landed me. All I managed to do was push everyone away. I pushed you away. I'm sorry, Marceline. I've been a real dinger to you."

And last that I can think of is Amethyst from Steven Universe but specifically the one episode where she has to face where she came from (that everyone else seems so eager to avoid bc it's bad history for them but it hurts her feelings that she can't be proud of where she's from)

"Admit it! I'm just an embarrassment to you... I'm not going to stand there and let you remind me of everything I hate about myself! I didn't ask for it to be this way... I never asked to be made!"

"this is like- my whole life! You wanna pretend that none of this ever happened. You think I'm just a big mistake!" "No, you're not the mistake - You're just the byproduct of a... Big mistake... That's not what I meant. I just never saw this as you, you didn't build this place. I- I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me. You're the one good thing that came out of this mess. I always thought you were proud of that."

But I may have gone too heavy handed on the angst lol. These are just a few I thought of in relation to the story and I don't know the character as well as you do so what are your thoughts?

- 🐌

first off, sorry i’m replying kinda slow it’s finals week for me lol

your quotes are so perfect omg, i haven’t seen Infinity Train but that quote is so relatable to what batsis is feeling!!

as for the princess bubblegum one, i really like the quote and i actually was partially inspired by marceline’s storyline with the ice king because it was just another disaster where a kid lost a protective figure that really mattered to them!

the last two quotes are also really good! the struggle they mention isn’t necessarily about the plot but it definitely is how i imagine batsis to be and how i’d continue to write her if i ever use this same batsis in another future story!

honestly, the main way i came up with this plot was like a year ago i was reading about all the awful things batman has done to the robins (specifically dick) and i found the alternative universe comic where he slept with barbara and actually looked into the plot of ‘the killing joke’ and i saw this one scene of batman beyond (i think??) where barbara vaguely mentioned that dick left and was never seen again and i was so heartbroken for him and was thinking “if only someone had changed the past like wally or something” and then BAM inspiration hit!

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 248

Beyond the Mat/The Girl Who Died

“Beyond the Mat”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean take a break to attend a wrestling match. But the fun ends when a man is found dead at the venue, with an ancient mark carved into his chest

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: would I be in these very specific circumstances? No. Probably not

This match is like “The WWE We Have At Home”

Geez…I haven’t seen a grown man be treated like an actual dog….well, actually since the last time I watched sk8 the infinity but the answer SHOULD have been ever. Anyway, it’s real weird hearing Lucifer refer to Crowley as “little puppy.��

I ADORE fanboy Dean

Aw man….not the dad who brought his son and reminded the boys of a John doing that with themmmm

You can tell Dean has wanted to play around on that stage for a LONG time

Oh thank god the demons are finally starting to turn on Lucifer, having to watch Crowley clean the floor with his tongue was a step too fat

Dean trading scar and injury stories with this older wrestler 💖

YEAHHH!!! Crowley’s out of hell!!

What. Is. Happening. Why’s the older wrestler trying to get this guy to sell his soul to a demon???

Ummm…so, it’s sell your soul or die?! Sorry, Crowley would never let that happen under his watch

Noooooooooo, why’d Lucifer have to show up RIGHT when they got to Crowley’s hand of god?? OH!! The demon I thought was working WITH Crowley was still working FOR Lucifer

Ok but like…the “I invented the double-cross”/“I perfected the double-cross” was really good. I won’t lie

Don’t meet your heroes, Dean ☹️

Oooo, been a while since we encountered some hellhounds

What a strange episode. It’s like they couldn’t figure out what to do with their literal main characters while a couple MAJOR side ones got to further the plot

“The Girl Who Died”

Plot Description: the Doctor and Clara help to protect a Viking village from space warriors from the future

I’m so glad someone finally snapped those stupid sunglasses. Thank you, random Viking man

That just seems dangerous to do. Maybe don’t pretend to be Odin, Doctor

Oh the new fake Odin took Clara to his fake Valhalla

Poor Maisie, she’s so so scared but still willing to fight. Way to go, not-Arya…except that way to go is a little sarcastic because they were so close to leaving and so were the aliens, but she had to go and declare war on them

Why are babies in dw so poetic? I mean…the translation the Doctor gives of what he can understand from their cries

The way he’s always worried about Clara dying 😭 no one tell me, but ARE we still hurtling towards the worse timeline for her? Where she becomes a Dalek?

Poor might-as-well-be-Arya feels out of place in her village for being too like a boy for the girls and too actually a girl for the boys

They’re gonna won with EELS??

ARE THEY GONNA KILL ARYA STARK???

Wait…is it only called the girl…….no, they did actually kill Arya

OH FINALLY. We got to the point where they explain why Peter Capaldi was both a dude in Pompeii and now the Doctor. He chose that face to remind himself, to hold himself to the promise to save people, to just save SOMEONE as Donna once begged him to

So of course he saved Arya, buy may have put upon her the curse of immortality. I’d love to see her come back….and it seems to be in an eternal youth way

OMG NOT ANOTHER TWO PARTER. Stop this, it’s madness

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Okay your turn! What're your top 5 desert island albums? (yes you can include honourable mentions because I did lmao)

aahhh!!! despite me asking you that question, this was so hard for me!! not because i have too many to choose from, more like the opposite lmao. so i’m fudging my answer here a bit but bear with me

Montgomery Ricky by Ricky Montgomery. this is a no-brainer. ricky’s my favorite singer ever and this is his only album hahaha. he has some other singles and an EP or two from his previous band, love those songs too, but all i truly need is this one <3 my beloved <3

Revolver by The Beatles. i’m a beatles fan too !!! i smiled when i saw abbey road in your honorable mentions :”) revolver is my faaave, rubber soul is a close second but gosh this one just slaps. and it has one of my favorite adam/belle songs, Here, There, and Everywhere <3

Future by Jordan Feliz. i don’t really listen to him all that much anymore, but i love these songs a lot and i do think i’d miss him if i went to a desert island without one of his albums. and i definitely connected with this album the most, of his three.

okkaaayyy here’s where i’m just. uhhh. beyond those artists i really don’t zero in on anyone else enough to Know And Love their specific albums. SO, honorable mentions in the form of artists that i also appreciate and have a lot of their stuff in playlists but from no albums in particular:

Journey

Queen

Aerosmith

Elton John

Led Zeppelin

Lynyrd Skynyrd

REO Speedwagon

(so, basically the dad music lover in me <3)

if you’re forcing my hand and i have to pick two more albums, let’s go with News of the World by Queen and Infinity by Journey I GUESS. but i don’t know every one of those songs so it would be a tosser for how they’d actually make me feel as albums. i would be in good hands though. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John would be fun too !!

[cursedfortune]

fallesto​:

He really wished to know, was it so bad to ask a friend about such things, curious little scamp, wasn’t he? “What if I place it nowhere in this temple, or in the forest, what if I place it somewhere, no one can reach unless they are allowed?” As he did wonder for a moment if she could pull something from that place, that would be interesting and a little bit concerning as he had quite a lot of stuff that was there, what? Did she think, this was .. it? That this was everything he had of his long-life helping humans.

It made him wish to giggle.

All of this was just, some of it, his entire collection was somewhere else, and truly thankful he was for his master in crafting him a space within the infinity fortress to horde all the remains of the humans he had helped be guided onto paradise. “You know, if you behave a little bit more, I’ll take you to my other temple?” There we go.

He was trying to make amends with her.

Because all of this was nothing more than a misunderstanding. “Ah, well that is true, plenty of hard work went into this.” As he slapped himself on the stomach several times, with his regal clothing being nothing more than endless layers to hide himself, for what he truly was hidden away, as you don’t slaughter your way from all the lower moons, right up to the upper moons to take the second strongest title and not train yourself to be strong, fast, to be able to adapt, fight and especially kill. Fighting humans and slayers was easy, fighting demons, was truly an enjoyable challenge, as he has gotten really good.

At murdering his own kind.

As she looked at him and he turned his head around to look over his shoulder.

What on earth was she looking at the poor thing.

So filthy as well, so very filthy as he would use his fan and flutter it up and down, a nice sprinkle of snow blown her way to try and clean the little mess of her, how on earth could someone get so bloody and filthy, so quickly when all they where doing with one another, was toying around and playing some games with one another.

“I cannot play around with my followers like this, they break easily?”

If he squeezes them to tightly he would break their spines. If he slapped them joyful on the back, he would sent them flying and watch them paint his walls with bright and new shiny colours. If he played with there hair and forget to untangle the threads, he would pull there heads off and not even notice what he had done, humans truly did break easily, but the most joyful thing has happened, she could take his playing around.

“Oh blood ..” If she expected him to be down on hands and knees and licking it up, she could rest easy, you don’t get this strong, and not being able to control your nature and the hunger within, to snap and lose control and become a mindless animal wishing for blood and flesh, he has seen so many demons, make those mistakes, a gentle pace was needed, concern as well, it was always better to just, take things at a slow pace and see the bigger picture at the end.

“Your blood does look quite .. tempting I have to admit, but worry not, spill as much as you wish, I’ll have it cleaned.”

Her lips quirked, the subject itself humorous because experienced getting to know the answers already. “You could place it somewhere like that. It’ll still come back to me if I will it. Though I’d still prefer you didn’t.”

But that was an inconvenience she was sure would come up later so she let it go. Especially since he mentioned something so interesting. There was no denying the little spark in her eyes that came about as she briefly looked around the room they were in. It made sense he’d have a space mortals couldn’t hope to get to, right? She liked that. Especially if it was tied to being beyond this world.

“Aha, that’s cute. Telling a witch to behave is asking for trouble.” She wouldn’t verbally give him any satisfaction her interest may provide. How could that not be obvious? Douma had her on her knees mere minutes ago, prepared to rip off her head, and she would not yield to his demands. She would not behave when ordered to. He hadn’t earned her being willing to call him her anything, let alone her lord in some manner - he didn’t deserve her being willing to take a knee like that.

But he was formidable enough to try. As he patted his stomach she was curious, just how many could she count in there if given the time? How many had he consumed without keeping the souls of, just to nourish himself on meat and blood? These hands of hers were so curious to feel the layers of death within him. Alas, they were bloody and she had no strong interest in doing so at this time.

Oh. The bit of snow was nice, especially since it was helping to clean her off. For a moment she basked a little in it until the chill hit. She always felt it more easily, the cold - a little tremble running through her before she gently waved her hand for him to cease. A warm bath was more ideal than this.

“Mm. Well, if you wish to tussle in the future - I’m not opposed. You’re the first being I’ve met in a very long time that hasn’t died from some minor energy manipulation.” It made sense, she was meant to challenge others and therefore had to be up to snuff to do so. So many just... died. So easily. Like cutting butter with a dull blade. So the interest to play was genuine. Tonight had been different. He could laugh it off if he wanted but she couldn’t, she felt it was more personal. And as she said before, witches were not known to behave on command. What honesty she saw of him with his anger made this not just playing around. So perhaps next time it could just be for the fun of it and not emotionally charged. And next time she would be far more prepared to mingle with his energy, and all of the souls within.

“You’re rather fun at times. I look forward to experiencing what else you can do to this body.” The witch smiled more genuinely then - for testing herself, adapting to others was a thing she very much enjoyed doing. Luckily (for her) it would seem, even with her empathy, she wasn’t so inclined to become emotionally attached. She knew better than to think there was the potential for something real forming between them. But it was better this way, wasn’t it? To not get comfortable with someone she’d outlive anyway. With a soft hum she looked over her hand and sighed a little, “Alright. I should try and find where the bathhouse is again.” She was so good with mazes when they were a forest but... well, it would just take time to learn this place. “Have lovely night, Douma. Until, ah, whenever next, I suppose.” Mortem gave a little wave of her fingers before she headed towards the door-- no, wait. That door. Her footing changed course as she wandered off after a second of looking between the exits. Perhaps she would dedicate some time tomorrow to memorizing this place better...