#it would be such a cool edit! someone (not me) should do it for real pleaseee

[heartoftheserpent]

Awake in the middle of the night thinking about Harry and Sirius and for once I’m not complaining about the writing I genuinely think this is one of the best and most striking and poignantly written relationships in the whole series

- neither of them have any real reason to immediately trust each other as they do

- Harry doesn’t have a good relationship history with parents; the Dursleys were awful, obviously, but his other interactions with parent figures have very much colored inside your lines, so to speak.

- Dumbledore cares, but at this point (book 3) he and Harry aren’t really closer than a typical Headmaster and student.

- Molly and Arthur care, but they very much stay in their lanes; even after knowing Harry’s guardians starve and confine him, yes they write to Dumbledore and ask if he can stay more, but when they are told no, they don’t go out of their way to check up on him or even owl him during the summer.

- Hagrid is closer, but he mostly seems to trust that Harry can take care of himself. In fact, most of the time, their relationship is Harry helping him, not the other way around, and Hagrid doesn’t seem to find that strange.

- even the first night they truly meet, Harry immediately agrees to live with Sirius despite having had one (1) intense conversation with him where Sirius was very much on the teetering edge of sanity, unclean, vicious, mysterious, and broken

- to the point that THAT VERY NIGHT, going to live with Sirius is a strong enough thought to summon a Patronus for him

- This instinctive and immutable trust and liking goes both ways - in a series that can often be mean spirited, I’m often struck by just how much these two LIKE each other

- Sirius’s devotion to Harry is something I see as weirdly overlooked by a lot of characters; the man not only spent twelve years in Azkaban, but broke out, and spends the rest of his life wholly devoted to Harry’s well-being. Living on rats, starving in a cave for a year, just to be close if Harry MIGHT need help

- this isn’t just how godfather/godchild relationships are written in these books, either. We have two other examples (Snape-Draco [EDIT: I forgot this was fanon lol] and Harry-Teddy) and while both seem affectionate, neither seem like “tear down the world and rip myself apart to keep you from harm.” Heck, Teddy doesn’t even live with Harry, and his parents are dead.

- this is what’s really getting to me today:

- all the characters involved seem to see the Harry-Sirius relationship through their own perspectives so strongly that they miss important features of it (again, this is a writing element I really like, and haven’t seen mentioned much if at all)

- Hermione sees Sirius as well-meaning but perhaps not to be listened to…. Which is how she treats her own parents tbh, fine with not only ignoring their authority but also their autonomy if she thinks it’s necessary

- Ron seems to think of him as a fun/cool older brother. He’s the only one who comments on Sirius being so dedicated as to live in a cave and eat rats, but his astute comment is, “he must really like you, Harry.”

- Remus (in my opinion) seems to view their relationship as the same as his own with Harry - I.e. “friend of your parents who cares but in a normal way with normal boundaries”

- Molly famously does not think highly of this relationship, and I do think that says a lot about how she thinks you should treat Someone Else’s Child.

- except Sirius doesn’t treat Harry like he’s someone else’s responsibility, he’s the most involved parent we see in the series, up to and including the Malfoys

- This is more striking when you pair it with the insouciant playboy vibes he had as a young man!!!

- I honestly wonder whether even James and Lily would have been surprised at the level of devotion he shows. Would they have expected that from him? Would even they be impressed? Would they have joked about making Sirius the godfather when he was the reckless, feckless, fun-loving one, and have marveled at the way he stepped up to the plate?

- the trust, respect, liking, and devotion goes both ways!!!!

- Harry never doubts that Sirius has his well-being in mind (we’re going to set aside a couple of hate crime writing moments in ootp)

- in GoF, when his scar hurts, he remembers that he can write to Sirius and he’s thrilled. He trusts Sirius’s advice completely even after meeting him once. And when that letter results in Sirius coming back to England, he immediately lies and tries to send him away for his own good. And Sirius’s response? “Nice try.”

- They already instinctively know and trust each other, they’re already both acting out of care, no one has ever stepped up like Sirius and Harry RESPONDS to that so beautifully

- this continues in ootp with Harry not hesitating to risk his life to save Sirius; Hermione points out (accurately) that Sirius wouldn’t want him to. It doesn’t matter. This is the only person who has ever loved him fully and unselfishly.

- And of course, that winds up in the opposite, with Sirius sacrificing himself for Harry instead, and Harry having to watch

- This is easily the most traumatic moment in the whole series for Harry, culminating in his meltdown in Dumbledore’s office and severe depression and malaise at the beginning of HBP

- idk i just can’t stop thinking about them

- About how it’s the closest, most fiercely loving parent/child relationship in the whole series and all the other characters fail to see that based on their own biases

[lovesitcomsandgaystuffs]

ever since the release of APT i have been plagued with visions of an edit of chapter 112 with this part of the song so i'm putting the curse on someone else

[breathinlove]

band!ellie 2 headcanons and smau

read this

sinopse: ellie williams is the lead singer in a band (+some texts with her).

cw: nsfw after the texts with warning! swearing, explicit, reader works in a record store and ellie's a simp, not explicit if reader is fem or masc.

part 1

band!ellie who made it unbelievable for dina and jesse to believe she found her girl, but then they met you.

“this shit's cringe as fuck, but you two are sweet…” jesse starts and dina immediately agrees. “yeah, she's perfect for you, el.” “i knowwwww, i need her.” jumping like a teenage girl fr...

band!ellie who sometimes thinks her bandmates like you way too much.

“invite y/n to the next rehearsal too for real.” jesse says after you leave a rehearsal you went to. “okay man i get it, she's amazing.” with an annoyed expression. “so… invite her.” dina chuckles. “no, i don't want any of you jumping on my girl.” but she does invite you anyway.

band!ellie who's so stupid tbh, she's gonna sign girls’ tits after concerts and act all oblivious when you swerve her kisses.

and swerving her is so fun istg, she's gonna try like 4 times before she's upset. UPSET! (she will go non verbal).

band!ellie who's the type to perform and glance at you like you're about to have sex right that instant (u will, after the concert tho!).

band!ellie who's a singer herself but turns on the tv and pretends to be the weeknd for you.

band!ellie who wishes she could rap… actually, no. she thinks she can.

"that was... something." you smirk and she scoffs, throwing herself on the couch she was standing on, mic in hand. "i'm literally in my rapper era but whatever, you'll see." and you're full on laughing. "don't laugh." and you come hug her and say she's so so special.

band!ellie who makes it so you can't open x (twitter) without seeing girls mourning your girlfriend… she's alive not single tho!

band!ellie who's always late for everything, but she tries her best istg. you and the band are TIREDDD.

band!ellie who's nervous about pda… but she likes it, showing everyone you're hers and she's yours.

band!ellie who made a slideshow about how you should move into her apartment… that was kinda like:

“REASONS FRRRR 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯

ALL OF THEM 🤣

we're literally soulmates so we gotta be roommates too???

countless sleepovers omg i'm crying!

i'll never be late again (kinda😬)

we can get a pet tg 😯

i'll get to listen to u sing in the shower more and you know i like hearing you and singing with you while im in the toilet or even outside the bathroom

passionate lesbian sex before sleeping, after eating, doing the dishes, the laundry ALL THE TIME

i love you the most and i want you close all the time

you love me back (i hope) so you gotta want me close too

i want you as my wife asap

think about it, thanks and please my love ❤️”

you moved in… weak mf but can anyone blame you??

band!ellie who loves cooking with you for friends and family when they come over. just loves being with you in general but even house chores are better with you??

band!ellie who comes to disturb see you at your job, your bosses hate her and said they were gonna stop selling their album 😒 (they actually love her).

band!ellie who switches from your serious cool rockstar girlfriend to your silly baby girlfriend in a second.

band!ellie who reposts them and comments under edits fans make of you, even more than her own edits.

“that's my baby so stop gawking.(jk)” “whats her @” “id repost but my gf would be jealous, shes hot asf 🤤🤤” “THAT'S MY GIRL” “creamed💔” "straight to the y/n folder" someone said “ellie cant handle allat” and she replied fr “true, she the one handling me 💯💢” SHE HAS NO CHILL...

band!ellie who pays the same attention to potential hate you'd get, she will block them… don't talk about her girl.

nsfw (cw: cunnilingus [e and r!receiving], fingering [e and r!receiving]. switch!ellie!!!!).

band!ellie who treats you like a star

you were supposed to be in the shower but ellie saw you stripping out of your clothes and she has to ask to kiss your clit, dropping to her knees. her fingers bruising your thighs and shes eating you out as if she'd been starving. you cum but she's not satisfied yet, she pulls you down on the bedroom carpet with her "give me another one, please." hands roaming your skin ever so softly, sending shivers down your body. she asks what you want, the position, how many fingers, she just needs to please you. and now she's on top of you, pounding you with her fingers and pressing down your lower stomach because she just wants you to cum again.

band!ellie who loves sleepy sex

she's gonna be in bed with you, almost asleep asking you for kisses, then for some touches... and you end up between her legs, sloppy nasty head and some slow fingering. your lips around her clit and kissing her pussy lips and slit and your fingers in and out her pussy. she's whining and squealing, playing with her own tits and caressing ur face. you're humming against her pussy and she's clenches "let go for me, ellie..." you coo and she squirts on your mouth and fingers. soft pants leaving her lips, soon stopping with her caresses on your face as you lick her cum. you look up, hair messy against the pillow and eyes closed. "i love you..." she mutters after you clean her and lay next to her "i love you." you spoon her.

a/n: this is kinda shitty but it's for who asked for more! @kyleeservopoulos @sameenatruther @harrysslutsstuff

[avelera]

(Writing Advice) Tips for Writing Dialogue

I would never, ever give unsolicited critique on a fic and I would never, ever out a fic I'm reading as being the one I want to critique.

But it gets so much harder when the edits I want to offer are really simple ones. Like, when I know where the author stands in their growth and I can see so clearly what their next step would be and I just aoiruoairoiariowaurwouARGH want to point out one little concept that will elevate their story by lightyears but since I do not know this person I don't dare because you never know what advice is going to be absolutely crushing to someone and entirely unwanted.

SO, before I explode, I want to give the advice I would offer.

This is specifically for people who find themselves writing really long paragraphs of dialogue between two characters that feel sort of unnatural when read aloud. Dialogue that is very "on the nose" ie, characters say what they mean and they say EVERYTHING they mean in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. It's open, clear communication to a fault and sounds very unnatural as a result.

The thing is, I don't want to tell people not to do that. Actually, writing out EVERYTHING the character could say is a GREAT first step! But the second draft should involve whittling down all of that into the most powerful or gripping parts of that paragraph. And I want to discuss how:

(Note, sometimes that is the pleasure of the genre that the author is going for! Sometimes in fic, the canon characters are so bad at communicating that it can be pleasurable just to write them fucking talking to each other for once.)

But, if your goal is to eventually write more naturalistic dialogue and also dialogue with a bit more tension and momentum to it that really pulls the reader along and makes them feel immersed in the world, you should keep in mind that most people don't say everything they mean in conversation. Even when people are being carefully, deliberately, perhaps even drunkenly entirely open with each other, they often speak in fragments or need to backtrack to clarify a point.

However, most people don't say everything they're thinking, especially if it's very vulnerable, because of things like fear of rejection, or pride, or even because they have their own goals that might be disrupted if the other person knew everything. Sometimes, there just isn't time for a big sit-down where all the feelings come out!

However, this isn't about small-talk, which is a bit more self-evident that it shouldn't be paragraphs long for every exchange. Fiction tends to thrive in momentous moments, moments that tend to be a bit rare in real life but that stick out in our minds forever.

For example, fiction revolves around couples realizing their feelings for each other far more often than any one person would experience that moment in their life. So in fiction we heighten and elevate these really powerful moments and we love exploring them as readers.

SO, when I'm stuck on ALLL the things characters could say to each other in a really charged moment, but I'm not sure what the best thing would be, I don't hold myself back. I just let it all out. I open a pair of brackets and say:

Bill says, [I love you. I don't know how to say it because I'm 20 years old and scared and I've never been in a relationship before, but I do. You've been my best friend my whole life. I think you're the most beautiful and amazing person I've ever met. If you reject me, it would destroy me. But losing you as a friend would destroy me even worse. So I feel like I have to play it cool for a variety of societal pressure reasons but also to protect my heart and my pride. I want to open the door a bit, I want to hint that I like you, but I don't want to risk it if I overstep. I'm not ready to take the leap yet if there's even the slightest chance it won't work. Maybe we could try getting coffee?]

Then I'll go back through and bold the lines that are most powerful to me, the ones I really want to keep, as seen above. Then I mull over that for a bit and try to put it into more naturalistic speech. Something like,

Bill says, "Yeah, well... you're pretty cool too, I guess. Maybe we could grab coffee sometime. Try that new place that just opened."

^^^ Obviously this isn't award winning dialogue but what I would hope to capture with it is a young, insecure person who is leaving a lot of openings for plausible deniability, who isn't overcommitting to a love confession that could get their heart stomped on but is tentatively advancing a compliment and a desire to spend more time together at a plausible location for either a date or just friends hanging out.

The rest of what's deleted from the paragraph is now a secret that they're trying to hide. And secrets tend to be very powerful in fiction and performance. It makes the audience mentally engage with what they think is hidden behind those words. It leaves space too for more conversations between the characters.

Maybe over coffee a bit more of that entire paragraph comes out, which pulls the reader along through the story. Maybe each time they hang out, a little more comes out after that, because most people don't give their love confessions in one huge block the minute they realize they have feelings. And the anticipation of getting to the moment where the whole hidden paragraph is revealed also pulls the reader along and makes them excited (hopefully) for that moment. It makes them keep reading your story to reach that moment.

Anyway, TL;DR: writing out a whole paragraph of everything your character is thinking for each line of dialogue, everything they could possibly say, is GREAT for the first draft! You don't want to lose a potentially juicy and powerful line just because you edited yourself too soon.

But in the SECOND draft, before you publish, dialogue gets a lot more powerful and compelling if you whittle it down to be more naturalistic, to hold a bit back, to allow a bit of mystery, especially with big emotions and confessions that would be hard or scary for a person to reveal, that might encompass the actual plot or subplot of your story (for example, getting to a love confession could be the plot or subplot of a slowburn romance, so you want to sort of piece that build-up out and not just dump a whole confession on the first page, unless that IS your goal!).

Trimming down a huge paragraph to one line of dialogue also makes for snappier, more dynamic dialogue overall, even if the content isn't as emotionally charged as a one-in-a-lifetime love confession.

[ynbabe]

Do you think you could write a smau with Yuki or Daniel with a male reader who is like 6'-6'4 and they kinda have a gay panic moment and reader is just subtly flirting with them through captions and comments...

If not than that's ok, have a great day/night

ahhhhh this is such a cute idea, I went with Danny ric for this one cause the yuki to 6'4 reader height difference would be too mean 😭

y/nfsnweek

y/nfsnweek new shoot coming out @/alphatauri

y/nfsnweek excited to meet all the cool guys at @/vcarbf1team

vcarbf1team we're excited to meet you!! username YOU'RE MEETING DANIEL AND YUKI?? y/nfsnweek perks of the job 🤷‍♂️

username HELLO??? father what do you mean you're modelling for an f1 team??

username girl they were a fashion brand first 😭

username omg does this mean Y/n's going to a race? He has to right?

username every time I find out abt this man's height I need to log off cause WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS CUTIE IS FUCKING 6'4???

username tall king

username imagine him next to Yuki 😂

username they wouldn't even fit in the camera screen together 💀

vcarbf1team

vcarbf1team our drivers through the eyes of @/y/nfsnweek

y/nfsnweek need a pass for every race pls

vcarbf1team we got you king 💪

yukitsunoda no comments, no one talk to me, deleting all social media

username omg yuki 😭 bbg it's not your fault y/n is just freakishly tall

danielricciardo finally someone I had to look up to talk to 😂

yukitsunoda Daniel you're blocked first

username daniel looks at y/n like he wants to eat him, Yuki looks at y/n like he's planning to steal his height

username Danny something you'd like to share with the class???k

Daniel was trying to be normal but there were only very few people he had to look up to talk too and even fewer people who looked like that.

He had accepted he was gay a long time ago but refused to be in a relationship due to the media and his job but there was no way he could ignore the way his heart began racing when he looked into your eyes. The worst part of it was he didn’t even know if you were interested in him, or guys.

One wrong move and his career would be down the drain… again and he couldn’t risk that but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you either. This was driving him insane. You were driving him insane and you hadn’t even spoken to him over 10 minutes.

He could always count on Max right? He had never told anyone about Daniel’s secret even when they had been fighting and he was his best friend obviously he was going to cry about this to him.

Why had Max sent him one of Y/n’s Instagram posts? Daniel was not in the mood to stalk his crush only to see him with women all over him.

y/nfsnweek

y/nfsnweek If you know what I did last summer pls let me know

Oh, okay, he liked guys, but did he want Daniel? Y/n was a model, he worked around gorgeous men 24/7 why would he want to be with Daniel?

Daniel couldn't do much more, he could pine and yearn like he had for years before or he could get on with his job and move on like he is used to.

danielricciardo

danielricciardo Enchanté orange edition 🍊

landonorris Papaya edition?

danielricciardo no comments

y/nfsnweek my favourite fruit 🤭

username bro??? username your favourite what 🤨 username oh?

maxverstappen doubles as MV1 merch

danielricciardo @/Landonorris defend your colour

danielricciardo

danielricciardo austingp my home away from home

ynfsnweek suddenly I'm very interested in America

maxverstappen 🤨🤨 ynfsnweek yee haw 😫

username that hat 😮‍💨

username max?? y/n??

username y/n being the first comment on this post is giving

username giving broke back mo-

daniel.jpg

daniel.jpg photo creds to @/lando.jpg

y/nfsnweek Lando needs a raise

lando.jpg it's all him y/nfsnweek fr mans fine asf

username Y/N????

username HELLO???

username if Daniel doesn't respond to y/n rn its going to get real embarrassing real quick

Daniels's head was reeling, what did Lando mean you were flirting with him under his posts? Weren't all those comments PR? Should he text you? but what if you didn't like him? But what if you did? Fuck.

Daniel texted you, why had he texted you? Did he not like you? Did your comments make him uncomfortable? You were not above crying till the sun rose and the tears were already ready.

But first you had to yell at the little gremlin that probably caused this, cause you may die of a broken heart and embarrassment but you weren't going alone.

Now back to Daniel, who was probably going to block and you were going to get your contract cut and-

Oh? oh? And where had that sudden burst of confidence come from?

On the other end, Daniel was losing his mind.

Oh

Oh...

HE LIKES ME?? HE LIKES ME!! He couldn't believe he was acting like a teenager right now but he was kicking his feet and giggling. You were the literal man of his dreams and you liked him back!

Daniel was going to die but at least it'd be from happiness this time and you? You were screaming into your pillow, stalking the man's Instagram, blushing thinking about the date.

[holylulusworld]

House hunting

Summary: Steve wants to have a place on his own.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bestfriend!Reader

Warnings: a little angst, fluff, best friends to lovers, haunted mansion trope, mentions of death/accidents/murder

Square filled for @fandom-free-bingo "Gingerbread Edition": Haunted Mansion AU

“House hunting is boring, Steve,” you whine. “Why can’t we buy a Christmas tree for the communal room instead or Christmas presents?”

“You promised to spend the day with me,” Steve points out. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives you a stern look. “Promises are meant to be kept.”

You sigh, deep and long. “Yes, Captain,” you mutter under your breath. If only you’d have known that Steve wants to look for a place to get away from you and the others and not have some good old-fashioned Christmas fun. “Let me get my coat and boots.”

“You don’t look very excited,” he chides because you promised to be there for him today. “If you don’t want to come with me, it’s fine.”

“No, no!” You are quick to reply. Steve is right. You promised to go with him. Letting him down only because he wants to do something you don’t like would be wrong. “I’d like to spend the day with you. It’s just… I’ll miss you here if you move out.”

“I’ll miss our late-night conversations and movie nights, too,” he shyly admits. “But you can visit me anytime.”

“Yeah,” you don’t sound very convincing. “It won’t be the same, though.” You push the sadness away and force a smile on your face. “But I can come over for a sleepover if I’m not on missions.”

“Anytime,” he replies, returning your smile. Steve’s smile is not fake like yours, and it makes you feel even sadder. “You’re my friend.”

“Yup,” you pop the “p” and point at your coat. “Let’s go before someone snatches the house you want out of your hands.”

“You’re such a cute couple,” the real estate agent coos. Your heart flutters, but you know she only tries to sell the house to Steve. Complimenting you is simply another sales pitch. “Do you want to have children? This house is perfect for a family.”

“Uh—we’re not together,” you hastily say to stop her from embarrassing you in front of Steve. It’s not that you never daydreamed of having a family with Steve, or at least becoming more than a friend to him. He doesn’t see you that way. “We’re friends, and Steve asked me to come with him.”

“Oh,” she chuckles. “There’s always hope, right?” She elbows you, and you roll your eyes. Great, now Steve looks at you like you’re some stray kitten.

“How many bathrooms does it have?” Steve tries to save you and him from the awkward conversation. This is not the time or place to discuss how you feel about each other. “What about the kitchen? Is it brand-new or used?”

While the real estate agent talks to Steve about the house, you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. Somehow, it felt like someone put their hand on your shoulder.

“Make him yours before it’s too late,” a voice whispers in your ear, and you believe you lost your damn mind. “Don’t let him go. Never...never..never.” The voice chants, and you want to scream.

You shake the invisible hand off and hurriedly follow Steve and the real estate agent. You’d rather not stay alone in one of the rooms. The house is nice, but it gives creepy vibes.

“Uh—stupid question,” you clear your throat to get the real estate agent’s attention. “Did someone die in this house, or did anything happen in here?”

She blinks a few times and swallows thickly. Ah, there is the catch. You know something was off with the house and the price. “Well,” she tries to play it cool, but you can see the panic in her eyes, “the owner fell down the stairs and died, unfortunately. She was only twenty-four.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Steve nods thoughtfully. You watch him rub his arms as goosebumps erupt over his skin. He must’ve felt it too. You’re not crazy. “Anything else I should know?”

“Her fiancé found her,” she admits under Steve’s intense gaze. “The police weren’t sure it was an accident, but they never… arrested him.”

“Fuck, that’s a murder house, Steve!” You grab Steve’s wrist, harshly tugging at it to make him follow you out of the house. He laughs it off and shakes his head.

“Doll, there’s no such thing as a murder house. It’s a good price, and the house is huge. Let’s have a look around.”

You whine and shake your head. “No. It’s haunted. They talked to me…”

Steve and the real estate agent look at you with amusement. They don’t believe you.

“How about I hold your hand?” Steve offers. He takes your hand and holds it gently. “For me. Let’s take a look.”

“Fine,” you grumble. “If I end up dead, I’ll haunt you in this house.” He smirks and wraps his arm around your shoulders to make you feel safe. You relax, hoping ghosts are scared shitless, knowing a super-soldier is here to protect you.

“Let’s head upstairs to take a look at the master bedroom,” the real estate agent goes ahead. You bite your lower lip, chewing on it when the stairs creak loudly. It sounds like they cry anytime she climbs up another step.

“Steve, I’m telling you something is wrong with the house,” you whisper as he guides you upstairs. You shudder because the house suddenly feels so much colder. “Please, let’s leave.”

“Ghosts are not real, doll,” Steve assures you. He pecks your temple. “After we are done here, I’ll invite you for dinner.”

“If I’m still alive,” you whisper, making him chuckle. “I mean it, Steve. If I die here, it’s your fault.”

The staircase seems to be endless, and you’re tired and out of breath when you reach the top. Even the fucking stairs must be haunted.

“Please follow me,” the real estate agent says and waves you closer. “If you go to your left, you’ll find the master bedroom.”

You stop in your tracks watching a vase drop to the ground. No one was even close to it, but it just fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. You scream and hide your face in Steve’s chest.

“Stevie! Let’s get out of here! Please!”

“Marry her! Marry her!” A creepy voice chants, and your blood runs cold.

You grab Steve by his upper arms and shake him. “What else do you need to hear and witness? That’s a haunted mansion, and we are going to die here if we stay!”

Steve looks at the broken vase. He shrugs while ignoring the voice coming from the bedroom and guides you closer to the door.

“MARRY HER! SHE’S YOURS!” The voice screams louder, and Steve stops in his tracks. He furrows his brows as the voice screams your name.

“Okay, I’m out of this for good,” you cry, and grab Steve’s wrist. “The ghost knows my name!”

“Uh—I think we should leave,” Steve hastily says. Before you can agree, he grabs you by your waist, throws you over his shoulder, and runs down the stairs—never looking back.

“Mission accomplished,” Tony says as Bucky, Clint, Bruce, and Peter join him to watch you and Steve feed each other with strawberries.

On your way out of the house, and toward freedom, you and Steve finally admitted your feelings for each other. Promising to be together in another life if you don’t make it out of the mansion. Facing a haunted mansion and ghosts made you see there’s more to fear than ruining your friendship.

“What if Steve ever finds out we tricked them?” The fake real estate agent asks. She smirks and takes off the mask she wore. “Next time, I want a real mission, Stark. Not some rom-com shit.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Belova,” Tony snaps at Yelena. “Now let me enjoy watching my real life performance rom-com. I had to buy a fucking mansion to get these idiots together…”

[captain-pheonix]

Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.

Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.

If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!

A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)

Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)

(Platonic or romantic!)

Pauling:

- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you

- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction

- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it

- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs

- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help

- reminds you to take your meds

Scout:

- absolutely clueless

- buys into stereotypes

- “the voices” type shit

- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time

- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too

- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs

- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations

- words of affirmation 10/10

- expect a lot of words…

- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)

Soldier:

- clueless prick

- thinks you’re some spy or something

- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help

- might also buy into the stereotypes

- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)

Medic:

- #1 meds administer

- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it

- (fw researching you heavy)

- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it

- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit

- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)

- will look into techniques to help you

Demo:

- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract

- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work

- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well

- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)

- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap

- might wanna just scootch in there

Heavy:

- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)

- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do

- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded

Pyro:

- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper

- also schizophrenic 😭

- huge empathy from them

- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”

- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)

- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable

Sniper:

- probably feels bad for you

- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside

- comforts you when you think you see or hear something

Spy:

- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door

- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room

- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with

- offers lots of gentle comfort

- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was

- now he just wants to offer help

Engie:

- probably pities you a bit

- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better

- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible

- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier

————————

Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!

[polysucks]

What do you think: which asoiaf house deserve better?

It’s too easy to say the Manderlys or the Tarbecks deserved better.

I am a true hater to my core. If there is one thing about me everyone should know is that I will find something to complain about. Periodt.

So, let’s talk about which house deserved worse.

House Bracken

If any house deserved worse, it’s these perpetual, scheming, backstabbing opportunists. The Brackens are like that stupid fuckin coworker who keeps getting their corporate cock sucked despite being objectively terrible at everything. Their entire existence revolves around making bad decisions, siding with the stupidest decision makers in Westerosi history, and somehow still managing to stick the landing. The only reason they’re still around is bc the chad Blackwoods would be considered kinslayers if they finally followed through with ganking the virgin Brackens because they WONT STOP FUCKING THEM. AND BREEDING.

“Waahhh fuck the Blackwoods, they suck, I should burn their houses down!” Sir, that’s your AUNT. Y’all are literally all First Men.

Those horsefuckers have been “feuding” (it’s literally hearsay) with House Blackwood for thousands of years, and they still can’t get a single W. Go ahead, go check in on them, take a shot whenever they are either betraying someone, sucking the cock of whoever’s in “power” this week, or trying to steal land that they will inevitably lose again. You’ll get alcohol poisoning. They backed Aegon the Dork in the Dance (woof), they backed the Blackfyres in the rebellion (really?), and in ASOIAF, they’re STILL making terrible choices, switching sides between the Starks and Lannisters like a bad wifi signal

And let’s be real—their entire personality is just hating the Blackwoods. That’s it. You ask a Bracken what they care about, and it’s not power, wealth, or horses (the Rills did horses better get a new gimmick)—it’s screwing over the Blackwoods at every possible turn. Get a fucking hobby. Touch GRASS. Suck CLIT.

Meanwhile, the Blackwoods are over here with their REAL weirwood tree, ancient legacy, and genuinely interesting history and baller fucking seat (Raventree Hall??? HELLO????? METAL AS FUCK. Stone Hedge is so LAME!) , while the Brackens are just flailing around going, “What if we betrayed our allies again? That worked so well last time!” 🤦‍♀️

Honestly, the only reason they still exist is sheer fuckin’ luck at this point.

First off, House Bracken is basically the Riverlands equivalent of Elon Musk. Hollow threats. Zero rizz. Fake as fuck. Total LOSER. Weak ass bark, zero bite. They act like they’re a major power, but they’re not. They think they deserve what they have!!!! Every time they make a move, it backfires spectacularly, and yet they just keep doing it. They fail upward!!!! They fucking learn nothing. They are medically incapable of making a good decision. I’d say it’s in their genes but the family tree of the Brackens and the Blackwoods is a wreath, and the Blackwoods don’t fail this fuckin hard.

Greatest Hits:

• “We Were Kings, We Prommy!” – The Brackens love to tell people that they used to be kings in the Riverlands. Oh, you were kings? Cool. So were the Blackwoods by your standards, and guess what? They didn’t get demoted to second-rate nobility because they were bad at being kings. That was time. That was just a natural change in power dynamics. Eso es solo economía basica. (Also, their kingdom lasted longer but like. Whose counting?) (me. I’m counting.)

• The Dance of the dumbasses – During the Dance the Brackens backed Aegy (imagine being that wrong) while the Blackwoods supported Rhaenyra the Perfect and Did Nothing Wrong. But here’s the kicker: not only did they lose, but they also got their castle burned to the ground by the very same side they supported. Imagine baking ur neighbor a pie and they still burn ur house down. Embarrassing. Whack. Sad. Take a lap.

• Blackfyre Rebellion: Worst Bets Edition – When the Blackfyre bastards popped up, the Brackens were like, “Hell yeah, bad decision 2: electric boogaloo!” Meanwhile, the Blackwoods, once again, stayed loyal to the crown. Because it was in their best interest. Guess who won? I’ll give you a hint: not who the Brackens backed. And guess who got punished for backing them?

• Their Weirwood Crimes – This one’s just sad. The Chad Blackwoods, like proper First Men, still worship the Old Gods and have a massive weirwood tree. The virgin Brackens, meanwhile, chopped theirs down centuries ago, probably just to be spiteful. The internalized racism is coming from inside the house. And where did they build their new godswood? On top of the stump like a bunch of insecure toddlers. It’s like they knew the Old Gods weren’t on their side and tried to cover it up. Lady Bracken (geodndndge please what is her name please reply to my emails) is correct when she says the gods are punishing them. Y’all deserve it. Stupid horse fuckers.

• The Award for Most Inconsistent Allegiances – Every major conflict, the Brackens flip-flop faster than an American politician on Twitter. Like we call Walder Frey the Late bc he’s opportunistic— man what the fuck about the Brackens? They backed the Tullys, then turned on them. They supported the Lannisters, then tried to hedge their bets when things got rough. Go fuckin cry about it. Pound sand. Die mad. They switched sides between the Starks and Lannisters during the War of the Five Kings like they were speed-dating for survival.

It’s already bad that the Brackens are losers (imagine being born a bracken. I would simply. choose not to. Be. Born.), but the fact that they’ve spent thousands of years being consistently outclassed by the Blackwoods just adds insult to injury. The Blackwoods have a richer history, cooler symbolism, and an actual legacy—while the Brackens have…horses? They fuck horses? The Rills got horses, too, man. Pick a better personality. And a track record of failure? It’s like watching a rivalry between a college professor and a loser who gets kicked out of bars for trying to fight the furniture.

Honestly, House Bracken only still exists because somehow they keep getting pardoned after every betrayal. Westeros has wiped out noble houses for way less (RIP House Darklyn and Tarbeck gone but not 5gottem).

They’re like fucking cockroaches. They just keep crawling back. House Bracken should’ve gone extinct centuries ago, they refuse to die.

Fucking clown shit for real.

This message has been proudly brought to you by the Official Council for Blackwood Riverlands Supremacy—preserving history, honoring the Old Gods, and reminding you that Brackens have been taking L’s since the Dawn of Days.

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOTES — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.

warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!

pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3

———

“I finished it.”

If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.

But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.

Not that you could complain.

You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.

You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.

“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”

He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.

Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”

You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”

“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”

Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”

“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”

He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”

You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”

“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.

“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.

“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”

He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”

“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.

You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”

His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.

“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”

His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.

He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”

“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”

With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.

You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.

You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.

You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.

You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.

Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.

You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”

Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”

You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.

You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.

When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.

“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”

He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”

You loved this.

You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.

Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.

You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.

And he loved you.

And you loved him.

You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.

“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”

“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.

You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.

“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.

You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”

“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”

“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.

When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”

“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”

He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”

“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.

“Just you wait and see.”

———

ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.

thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3

[winchesterwild78]

Austin Nights

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Steve Carlson-mentioned, Radio Company Band mentioned.

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sexual contact, (cover it up), oral sex

A/N: The wonderful, amazing, beautiful, sweaty photos of Jensen at the Radio Company concerts gave me this idea. This is just pure SMUT and FANTASY! Sorry not sorry, but that man makes me FERAL! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find a man dripping with sweat so attractive my common sense flies out the window and I’d be willing to lick him dry. 🤭 Sorry, so yeah, this story does not depict real life. (Much to my dismay. 😀) Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. Do not copy or take my work.

Minors DNI 18+

The lights dimmed, casting long, dancing shadows across the intimate venue. The crowd roared as Radio Company took the stage, but for Jensen, he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who stood in the front row surrounded by her group of friends. 

He’d seen you laughing and dancing when Louden Swain was on stage, and he was instantly drawn to you. Backstage before Jensen and Steve took to the stage, Steve asked Jensen what had him so mesmerized. Jensen smiled and nodded his head towards you. 

He couldn’t tell what color eyes you had, but he knew they sparkled when you laughed. Finally the moment you had been waiting for, Radio Company was on about to play. You’d been a fan of Jensen’s for years, and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see him in such an intimate setting. 

Your friends and you were able to snag tickets before they sold out, and you were waiting at the front row with baited breath. 

Steve and Jensen came on stage and introduced everyone in the band. You watched every move Jensen made and when the two of you locked eyes on each other, your breath hitched. Jensen would flash that killer smile, you’d blush and look away. Your friends were laughing when they saw you turn red. 

“I think Jensen’s checking you out, Y/N.” Your friend squealed. You laughed, “Yeah right, you’re dreaming.” 

As the night wore on the venue was getting hot and sweat was running down your body. Jensen was just as sweaty. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his damped hair, sweat trickling down his neck and dipping below the collar of his shirt. 

Jensen ran his fingers through his wet hair and the wet strands fell around the curves of his face. As he continued singing, goosebumps erupted on your skin and you could feel the arousal settling in your core. 

Jensen’s voice was magnetic and every note his sang pulled you closer to him. The two of you would lock eyes and you’d bite your lip. When Jensen sang “Ain’t No Telling” he stared at you the whole time. 

His body moved with perfect rhythm to each song and all you could think of was how his body would feel above or under yours. You clenched your thighs together, feeling your growing arousal. 

When Jensen started gyrating the room went wild. He moved his hips and body back and forth like he was taking you in the best possible way. You licked your lips and your breath quickened. 

As the concert came to an end you needed to find a way to cool off. You told your friends you’d meet them outside, and you went to the restroom. Standing at the sink, you splashed water on your face and chest. Your shirt was soaked from sweat and water, and you could clearly see your blue lace bra through the wet material. 

Walking out of the bathroom you ran into something solid, well, someone. It was Jensen. He grabbed your arms to prevent you from falling, and his touch sent electricity and goosebumps through your body. 

His smell was intoxicating, it was a mixture of his cologne, sweat, beer and mint gum. Your walls quivered with anticipation. “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” He flashed his smile at you. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.” You shook his hand. “I’m sorry I ran into you. I should have been paying attention.” He smiled, “It’s okay darling. So did you enjoy the show tonight?” 

“Oh yes, very much. It was unbelievable. You sounded incredible.” You smiled softly at Jensen as he stepped closer to you. He cupped your face and leaned in closer. He was looking between your lips and your eyes. You licked your lips and leaned closer.

Jensen’s lips pressed softly against yours, his hands finding your hair, and your hands sliding behind his neck and your fingers running through his damp hair. He deepened the kiss by swiping his tongue over your lip, you parted your mouth allowing him entrance. 

As the kiss heated up, you moaned into his mouth. He backed you into a room, kicking the door shut with his foot and he locked it. Once inside The two of you started shedding clothes like they were on fire. Jensen pressed your naked body against the cold wall and a shiver went down your body. 

Jensen’s fingers were trailing down your body and his lips kissed down your neck to your breasts. His tongue flicked each nipple, causing it to harden. You could feel your arousal running down your thighs. 

Your head tilted back as Jensen’s fingers found your folds and slipped between them. “Oh Jensen,” You whispered. Jensen’s finger slipped inside you and you moaned. He began moving his thick digit in and out, hooking it up and hitting your g-spot. You moved your hips in time with his movements, chasing your release.

Jensen slipped in another finger, causing you to gasp. His movement became faster as he felt your walls tighten. “Oh God, yes!” He moaned. “Tell me what you want sweetheart.” “You, please I want you to fill me up.” “Mmm, not yet baby girl, cum for me first. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers.”

You panted as Jensen hooked his fingers inside you and with each thrust he pushed you closer to your release. Jensen leaned into your ear “Cum for me baby, let go.” You came hard and he kept pumping, causing you to scream out in ecstasy.

Jensen kissed your lips with a smirk on his face, “That’s it baby, let it all go.” You felt yourself cum again and your legs started to tremble. 

Your body responded to his touch like no other man. You opened your eyes and took in his gorgeous toned body and saw his hardened length. You licked your lips with anticipation. The need to feel him inside you was growing with every second, but you really wanted to taste him too. 

You dropped to your knees, taking his length in your hand, you licked the pink tip of his engorged cock. He sucked in air and instinctively grabbed your head when you started sucking him down your throat. He started fucking your mouth fast, causing tears to well in your eyes. 

“Fuck, that feels so good!” Jensen moaned. You took him deep down your throat, using your tongue to lick and swirl around his shaft. As you pulled his cock out you let it pop a bit. A little string of spit and precum formed between your mouth and his cock. 

You looked up at him and his eyes were dark with lust. Jensen helped you up and pushed you back towards the couch. As your legs hit the couch, you fell down. You giggled and Jensen laughed. You laid back on the couch and Jensen climbed between your legs. 

He positioned his cock to your entrance and pushed in. Both of you gasped, your hands gripped his shoulders, and his head fell to the crook of your neck. “Damn sweetheart, you feel so incredible.” 

“Please, Jensen.” You begged. “Please what?” “I need you to move, I want to feel every inch of you, please.” “Mmm I like you begging.” He smirked. Jensen bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled out and pushed back in, pushing you further into the cushion. Your legs wrapped around him as he pushed deeper inside you. Every thrust, every inch pushing in and hitting that spot again. 

Jensen pulled you up with him and your legs were on either side of his thighs. You steadied yourself on his length by holding onto his broad shoulders. You started bouncing up and down, taking every inch of his cock deep inside. Each bounce you could feel Jensen’s cock hitting your cervix. Your breasts were bouncing and Jensen’s hands were gripping your hips tightly. You knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. His mouth sucked on your nipples as you threw your head back grinding your body into him. 

Jensen flipped you back over onto your back. Your body and his body were glistening with sweat. You could feel your release building again. The sound of panting and moans mingled in the air with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. “Oh fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. Your pussy stretching around me and taking every inch of me.” You felt your release close, “Jensen, I’m gonna cum.” “Me too, fuck! Cum with me.” With one final thrust, Jensen came as your release hit. Your walls clenching around his length, milking his hot seed out, as he coated your walls.

As Jensen began to soften, he pulled out. Spilling some of his seed out onto the couch. He grabbed some towels and cleaned you up, then him. He wiped the couch up and threw the towel to the side. 

“You were amazing, Y/N. Damn that felt good.” Your face was blushed with redness from heat and sex, “You weren’t half bad yourself, Ackles.” You grinned at him. 

“Oh, not half bad? Okay, I guess we’re gonna have to go another round then.” He smiled as he kissed your lips. You grinned, “I think I can handle that, but let’s go home first. I’d rather be in our bed.”

The two of you got dressed and before Jensen unlocked the door he kissed you again, “The kids are staying at Jared and Gen’s house tonight, so I’ve got you all to myself, Mrs. Ackles.” “Good, because I’m not finished with you yet, Mr. Ackles.” 

He laughed and kissed your forehead, grabbing your hand and walking with you towards the car. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jens.”

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[julik0vatay]

Look who escaped into the real world!!!

A Menace that plagued my mind for past month — The Beheaded!!!

Sir, are you aware that you're a Menace?

Rude!!!

He ended up slightly taller than I intended bc I kept playing around with proportions but I'm not gonna go back on that and change it now.

He has alt heads bc ofc he would — blank, star and round eye, plus two sizes of flame. Initially I tried to make eyes fully interchangeable separates but failed to make it reliable bc of small scale. So I opted out to stick them on with scotch, and make alt designs with eye added directly on the head (another alternative — googly eye >.>)

My color choices are in reference to that cool figure, Poisoned one (and obv bc I have only so many filament colors). Not 100% sure with some of them buuut whatever, its done!

About outfit: some of my choices were made specifically with real pants in mind, that's why I didn't bother searching for more realistic leg alternatives. Also obviously the fact that I used fabric means that there's less range of motion where it gets in the way, mainly knees. But I consider this a fair trade bc it looks cool AF! Also tying all those wraps was NOT EASY!! (they became abit loose after handling so I had to redo them several times x_x)

Mods I made: -flame was edited to be solid, added neck cutout, added eye variants -changed shape of arm a little, original was even more buff (if someone would want him to be absolutely ripped, that would be the choice, haha) -changed proportions of chest armor to balance out arm bulk -made abdomen frame longer for better joint mobility (honestly, my solution isn't perfect, there are couple of places that would benefit from sanding but at least its done and working) -made legs longer to balance out longer torso and arms -edited feet to match new proportions -made pauldron from scratch -made Balanced Blade from scratch -edited Dagger -edited Frantic Sword

I will put this mod up later too!

…That said I have my concerns about the fact that I used fabric for pants. Unlike with Drifter, this one required alot more sewing in a very small scale. Should I like.. include pants pattern with this mod... Would that be Weird for printing site… And Im not really interested in writing sewing instructions as for me personally most of it can be summarized in "keep your stitches small, its all very fiddly". But I do have experience in miniature sewing and some random person online probably wouldn't?????

[captish]

Lessons from 1000 Captions In

Friends, I recently eclipsed the milestone of creating my 1000th caption and it's left me considering some things I've learned along the way. 1) Practice Makes Perfect It's seems a bit trite, but just making more and more captions has vastly improved my ability with it. For reference, here's one of my first captions ever:

And here's one of my most recent:

I've gotten so much better at understanding composition, theme, legibility, and how to edit/adjust the image itself, and it has largely come from just doing it over and over again. 2) Human Sexuality Is Complex and Wonderful I've discovered both in myself and from interacting with others, there is wide swath of what is arousing. From physical features, to power dynamics, to finding different means of mutual play, there's a lot of cool stuff out there to enjoy. Thanks to all that have interacted with me so far and enjoyed my work. I appreciate it very much!

3) I Prefer to be Polite I realize that online spaces are often a place where our desires and personas can be a bit more exaggerated in how they are portrayed. There's a freedom to indulge and push things a bit further than we would with a real life partner or interaction. That said, whether a situation calls for me to be more submissive or more dominant with someone else, the use of manners and having respect for them is how I go about my business. Getting messages that presume that I owe you something or that I should do something for you come up from time to time and I just don't get the entitlement of it all. I know my value; I'm highly creative and skilled in making captions and as such, I should be afforded the proper respect for it. I've discovered I'm generally more dominant than I initially thought I was. But even in that, I don't need to demean or denigrate someone else in order to assert my power over them. A quiet, self-assured, and polite demeanor can be just as dominating as a brash and over-the-top persona.

4) There's Still More to Learn As with much of life, the more you learn, the more you realize you don't know. I'm sure as time goes by, there will be a lot more for me to experience and grow from. But I look forward to journey. Thanks again to those who enjoy and interact with my stuff. May your Tumblr experience be as fulfilling as mine has been so far and let's keep the good times rolling! -Capt. Ish

[layniapetrovnaaa]

Rick Sanchez x Reader

I really want to make this a series but we all know how I do with those so for now it will remain a single fic sadly. also I need to stop making edits when I’m high cause I’m making inconsistencies lmaooo lemme just sit on my hands fr

Warnings: muchhh older man/younger woman, language, drugs, alcohol, underage substance abuse, flirting? Idk if I missed any lmk

Word count: 2.2k

***

It had been a warm fall day when the sun was shining earlier. The kind of day that makes you dread the start of school and appreciate the beauty of summer transforming into autumn. Only a few short hours later, as the sun was already starting to set much sooner, the stars had come out and the warm day turned into a brisk night. The cool and zipping breeze was just a little too much for your bare arms and legs as you cruised casually down the bumpy street on your bike. Headphones in, off in outer space, the street lights flashing over your head along with the beat. It lulls you further into your daydreams and anxieties until you reach your destination: Summer Smith's end-of-summer house party. Should be a blast. You couldn't say the party scene wasn't your thing– cause it definitely is– but you weren't one to go dancing on tables and taking your top off (at least not at this sorta thing). Parties like these were for you to sell and do free drugs, maybe occasionally getting some head. The latter had not been the case lately and for the past month you had been celibate, a bit unlike you. Not one to give up the cookie too easily, you liked to have your partner work for it. Rather nothing than let some dumb teenage boy try to have his way with you.

You fix your hair up a little from the wind and take out your headphones after you dismount the red bicycle and hide it as best you can in the bushes on the side of the house. You would have heard the music bumping two doors down had you not been in the moment with your own playlist. To your pleasant surprise, the music booming from the house wasn't terrible. It gave you a little hope this party wouldn't be as shitty as you thought. If the music's good it's difficult for you to have a bad time. Mix it with a lot of vodka, a lot of weed, and something to snort– that's a party.

The front door is already open when you make your way over so you head to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink.

You hear someone call your name and turn to see Morty pushing his way over to you.

“H-hey! How’s uhh how’s it goin?” he finally gets out and smiles sincerely at you. It was no secret that Morty had a small crush on you, but it was also no secret that he felt that way about all of Summer's friends, so it didn't phase you.

“Heyyy. What's up, Morty?” you lazily smile back, your muscles relaxed from the weed. You had eaten a few edibles earlier in the night and they hadn't started to kick in until you were riding over.

“O-oh, you know, j-just tryna enjoy the party…I guess.” he chuckles nervously and rubs his neck.

“Whattt? You're not having fun?”

“What?! NO– I mean yeah of course I'm having fun, I just, I don't know. Parties make me nervous sometimes I guess.” He chuckles awkwardly again.

“Go smoke a joint and feel better, man.” you pat his shoulder and walk away. Normally you liked chatting with Morty but he was kinda bummin you out and you just got there. Maybe later he could cry on your shoulder. You did feel a little bad brushing him off like that but the kid needed to learn to live a little.

After two drinks you decide it's time to roll up and while you are, someone offers you a line, which you gladly take.

“You wanna do some real shit?” Summer leans in and whispers to you, and you can't help but return the shit-eating grin she has on her face.

She leads you to the garage and the thumping music softens only to be replaced by the sound of summer rummaging through cabinets and storage bins and a victorious “AH-HA” once she finds whatever it is she's looking for. She holds the two radiant fuchsia crystals up to you and you give her a suspicious look. Your brow not falling until she proclaims with a smirk.

“Alien drugs, bitch. It's called k-lax and it's gonna rock your world.”

“At least I hope it does.” She adds dubiously and begins turning the crystals into powder.

“How did you even get alien drugs anyways?” you ask as she starts forming two lines of the brightly colored powder. Your eyes scan the garage and notice it's filled with what looks like more alien stuff and different gadgets. Maybe that was a dumb question.

“My grampas like-” she does her line and sniffs a little. “-like a biggg space nerd or whatever with crazyyy substance issues.”

You nod and switch spots with her, your turn, and damn did that shit burn. This better be worth it, you rub your nose a few times.

You had seen Summers' grandpa a few times when you were back in school. He'd come to pick them up multiple times in the very way he was currently entering the room. Crazy things had happened in the last few years, you'd quickly made your piece with otherworldly shit long ago, a green blob was nothing. That's not to say when it did just loudly and brightly appear behind you that you weren't a little startled.

“Oh shit.” Summer states flatly as a result of her drunkenness.

“Is that my fuckin k-lax, Summer?!” he roars, both feet not even past the green. You feel your body start to get tingly and you're almost certain it's the crystal at work. The portal that let in the old man begins to swirl around him, seeming to permeate the air and turn into a fog. The high was taking over and everything else became void. You reach out to touch the gas and as you do it starts to change color. The two others in the room were forgotten. An argument (if you could call it that) is raging next to you and poor summer is barely hanging on. Her high ruined by that spikey-haired asshole. Fuuuck I need to paint this briefly flashed in your brain but the sensation was too overwhelming. Each spot you touched was a new color and each color felt different.

The tingling sensation had heightened and felt like a nicotine buzz on steroids. To be quite frank it was close to orgasmic. But the colorsss. Did they each smell different? Taste different? You had to know. You had to be in it. You could somehow feel your soul in those colors. So incredibly lost in the way they twisted and turned and blended into each other. The fog was almost more smokey now. You take a deep breath in and it smells almost sweet but earthy, not floral. It's an odd mix, completely unfamiliar but not unlikeable. You feel the tingles start to leave with your breath as you exhale. Rapidly declining with each breath you take. The smoke– or fog disappearing with it.

“God, I neeed to do that again.” you slowly turn to look at summer. Your head, eyes, arms, and backpack all felt so heavy.

“It’s Rick, actually, and that’ll be at leeeast 50 flurbos.”

Were you still high? You blink a few times and look up at your friend's grandpa.

The old man eyes you up and down, lingering around your chest. Normally, you would have some quick-witted response to his somewhat pervy gaze and dick-ish response but the combination of substances was mixing just as you had planned. Everything had become deliciously fuzzy. “Shut up!” you blurt out. It seemed that a glance and your dimwitted response were all he needed.

“Get this bitch out of my garage. Now, Summer!” He growls the last part and goes over to the workbench, plopping himself down on the chair and swiping a finger over the crystal residue. His eyes close and he hums quietly when he brings the finger to his tongue. “Good shit.” He says under his breath but quickly after swiveling the chair around to look at Summer.

“You OWE me.” he shoots and swivels back, immediately tinkering with something on the desk.

You finally stop staring at the older man (which you didn't even realize you were doing) and turn to Summer silently asking if you two were going to listen to him. She groans loudly and starts to exit the garage back into the teen-infested kitchen. Taking one last look back into the garage, you follow her and slam the door behind you– which you really didn't mean to do– but you also couldn't be paid to care.

Your night carries on. You take a few more shots, hit your pen a few times, and soon enough your body is taking control and letting your brain take the back seat. You danced around a little, drank some more, and made out with a black-haired beauty. Before you knew it you had crashed and fell asleep on the small and kind of uncomfortable patio furniture outside.

When you awoke it was with a chill, the temperatures had dropped to the low 50s that night and all you had on was a hoodie you stole from summer's room. The cold was not what had woken you up, however, and it was the second time you had been started by the green portal. You sit up, keeping an eye on the portal and the man who is now coming through it while also feeling around the bench for your pack of cigarettes and your lighter. His eyes set on you.

“Are you the bitch that stole my k-lax with Summer last night?” You perk up and focus your attention on just the old man who is now right in front of you, partially only because you had already found the cigarettes.

“Yeah and stop calling me a bitch.”

“Well, when you're worthy of another title I'll change it.”

You roll your eyes and ignore him, telling him your name and he gives his back.

“I thought it was god?” you say in a mock tone, still searching for your lighter.

"Surprised you can even remember that."

He fishes in his pocket and pulls one out for you as he sits next to you on the bench, sliding his thumb over the spark wheel to ignite the flame and holding it to the end of your cig. Mumbling a thank you, you offer him one and he takes it and lights it. The bit of tension that you felt between the two of you had dissipated, at least on your end. I mean you were the one with the real transgression, but something tells you that the scientist wouldn't have accepted the smoke if he was that upset with you and/or his granddaughter. You can feel him watching you as you both take a drag and you want to turn to him and ask what about you is so fascinating to him but you don't. You keep staring straight ahead and it's silent and awkward for a minute but then he speaks up.

“How old are you?” he flicks the butt of the cig to make the ashes fall, sniffles a little, and looks back at you. You take another drag before doing the same.

“I’m 19. My birthday was last week.”

You see something in his eyes change as you turn to look at him and say your age. It's almost an icky feeling but more so it makes you curious and so of course you quickly turn away to look back at the grass.

“The fuck you doin' at a high school party then? Shouldn't you be in college?”

“It’s still summer.” You defend.

“Fair enough.” He takes a drag.

“I but I dunno. I started late I guess? I just graduated this past June.” You shrug. “These kinda things aren't really my usual gig I’ll admit that but these kids are dumb and will buy pot for way too much money.” You take a final hit from the cigarette and drop it on the pavement, squishing it under your sneaker.

“These kids? You just graduated.” He deadpans and you can't help but chuckle a little, understanding how that probably does sound kind of ridiculous coming from your mouth.

“I just mean I come to these things to stay caught up, maybe distract myself a little but mostly to take advantage of rich kids.”

“Sounds kinda shady.” He burps and pulls a flask from his jacket pocket, taking a sip, but keeping the metal container in his hand he starts again. “I mean no judgment, I do the same thing just, you know, higher scale.” He offers you the flask and you take it.

“Well shit, I'd love to go with you sometime.” you take a sip from the flask and you weren't entirely sure what you were expecting but it wasn't that. You cough and sputter and try to regain some composure so as to not make a fool of yourself but it seems it's too late.

“Oh my god, what was that?! Everclear?!” you continue to wheeze and Rick looks too amused. You start to finally get yourself together and he stands.

“Maybe don't get too ahead of yourself, sweetcheeks.” Your ears perk up at the new nickname.

“What happened to bitch?” you smirk.

“I can easily change it back, don't get used to it.”

He walks towards the sliding doors and pulls it open, heading inside and leaving you out there again. Alone.

[spa-ghett0]

Are there any other interesting tidbits/changes in the Sonic movie novelization?

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the first book lol I was really only interested in whether the writers had given Tails more of a backstory (which they did… kinda), so that’s why I read the second. However! I did read reviews online that said the first developed Tom & Sonic’s relationship more than in the movie.

Notable mentions in the 2nd book:

•Sonic 2 takes place 8 months after Sonic 1

• Tails spent many months seemingly looking for Sonic… He built those weapons Maddie & Rachel used at the wedding to account for the “natural disasters, dangerous adversaries, and booby traps” he encountered. (I mean!! That’s a whole tv show in itself!!)

• He also built a gun that atomizes things and he’s afraid of it, but he keeps it in his arsenal as a last resort. The text says that he isn’t sure it should be used, which is so interesting to me.

• I think he originally set out to look for the Master Emerald, but the Miles Electric (not what it's called in this universe but that’s what it is) kept picking up its energy across different planets... and somehow he knew that energy belonged to Sonic?

• Earth is the planet the rest of the galaxy is warned about lol

• Knuckles calls Sonic a Child of Mobius. Tails says that's "the traditional home of our kind".

• Tails is looking to find Sonic before “their enemies” do (weird that they have common enemies when they’ve never met?? WHO has Tails pissed off?????? Paramount!! I need to know!!)

• He was ready and willing to prepare Wade's garage for a siege attack (in exchange for stealing the police cruiser and driving it off a cliff). So, again—who has Tails pissed off?

• Instead of "The Master Emerald? That's just a bedtime story!" "Well, he believes it's real," it's "That's just a bedtime story!" "No, it's real. I should know. I think I’m one of the few still looking for it.” (What if one of his ‘enemies’ is Rouge? 👀)

• Tails runs the red light, and Sonic takes the wheel. Meanwhile, Tails climbs in the backseat of the cruiser to build speed boosters mid-chase 'cause Sonic was complaining they were going too slow xD. (This is where the "Promise? Promise you won't go anywhere?" happens :'))

• Tradition among the echidnas was to do an organ swap to make an alliance. Knuckles just breaks Eggman's hand instead, but that's… a part of the lore now. (edit: this is in my Top 5 favorite things from this book. I can imagine someone pitching this idea & the writer’s room going “what the fuck this is a kids movie” lmao)

• Tails offered to help Sonic in Siberia. No "I'm not a field guy!" protests here!

• Short Tails vs Eggman on the mountain (with very Sonic Raised Tails vibes 🥹; the text even says "Tails mocked the villain, almost like Sonic would have")

• Sonic doesn't believe he can fight Eggman and Knuckles alone after the wedding. Tom actually gives him a pep talk.

• Eggman's full name is Ivo Gerald Robotnik (Is that canon in other sonic medias?? I tried looking it up, but I don't see his name like that anywhere, yet I swear I already knew before I read it… *Is his full name canon, I mean. Ivo Gerald Robotnik.)

• Book Sonic reminds me of Modern Sonic more than his movie counterpart sometimes tbh

• There are multiple holograms of Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails at the start of the robot fight instead of just Tails.

• Maddie and Tom literally run through fire to reach Sonic

• Tails names Super Sonic!

• Instead of summoning a chili dog to prove he's not been corrupted by the Emerald, Sonic makes a fart noise with his armpit that has the "decibel of a bomb blast"

• Sonic recreates the Master Emerald, not Knuckles

• "Gotta go fast!" (when Sonic is running across the ocean to meet Eggman and Knuckles at the temple) and "Way past cool!" (post-battle when Tails introduces Knuckles to the power bump)

[heroesriseandfall]

Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990

Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)

Transcription below the cut/readmore.

INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL

Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.

He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.

Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.

It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—

I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.

We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.

The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.

Dennis O’Neil

April 1990

[ezekiel13]

Very important real talk.

How many of the Fallout companions can I transgender? (I will refer to them with the games pronouns for them you chose what flavour of transgender they are. Or I will maybe also.)

- Danse. I mean. He finds out he isn’t who everyone thought he was and is kicked out of his family? Transgender.

- Curie. Your quest for her is to find her a new body so she can live her life to the fullest? Trans.

- MacCready. Im a transmasc. So he is too. That’s all. Also idk he has the vibe?? He’s trans to me no one can take that away

- Preston. I want him to be trans. Because I’m trans. He’s my husband. T4T (well I mean. It’s more T4T4T4T4T etc…)

- Deacon. He was canonically a woman for a period of time. Not cis. For sure.

- Piper. I think she should be trans because she’s cool. So. Trans!! Also. Her name is the kinda thing that she would chose after already making a newspaper. Like “hmmm… changing my name? Piper Wright!! Because I write on paper.”

- X6-88. I feel like he’s not cis. He sees himself as not human so like. Xenogender? Maybe.

- Cait. I don’t know very much about her but she’s super iconic and she seems to have deep rooted issues with her physical form (I may be wrong here i only met her like twice. She doesn’t like helping settlements so I’m kinda stuck on befriending her) So i say she’s trans.

- Hancock. He took a drug which got him exiled from his family and home. I mean. Do I have to say more???

- Strong. Technically super mutants are genderless (they become physically asexual with FEV) and Strong chooses to be he/him’ed so. That’s not very cis.

- Nick Valentine (who I totally didn’t forget about and totally am not editing in). He���s the older trans guy who uses different terms for it but is super important to everyone. Especially that he’s still around.

- Codsworth. Yeah idk anything about him but he’s like kinda British and I know a lot of transgender brits so. Someone who knows stuff about Codsworth please reblog with information about him!!

- Dogmeat. He’s a dog. I think he’d bite transphobes. He’s very small I love him.

- Porter Gage & Old Longfellow (if that’s his name??) I don’t own either DLC so I can’t comment. Someone please tell me why they’re trans