#lots of that money is going to be spent on fancy military shit

[pumpkinspice-prouvaire]

Les Miserables- Victor Hugo// The Mirror, March 2023//The Guardian, October 2022//Les Miserables- Victor Hugo

I'm a few days late but I have some Thoughts about 2.2.3

[kaxenart]

Honestly the hardest part of deciding how Special Little Guy Status is achieved is who the fuck pays for it.

Though since the war is 100% over corporate interests, maybe soldiers get a little something extra if the ruling caste thinks they're cute, like dogs at the animal rescues that let you sponsor specific animals instead of general donations. And you never know what the person willing to drop $100/month on dogs they haven't even met like.

Like all of these soldiers can't possibly be equally stupid guys going into debt for Cool Shit (albeit, a good gun will also raise one's chances of Not Dying).

….then again, I am reminded of the Napoleonic era trooper who went into debt because he wanted to be a fancy horse boy (spent more money on kit and getting fined for misbehavior than he got paid over the same amount of time) and that this was not an abnormal problem to have.

This is a corpo sci-fi future, but also I will slam the entire Napoleonic era in there, I guess!!! Space Prussians are a tried and true visual trope anyhow xD

The government invites you to Sponsor-A-Soldier™! Your generous support unlocks customization options, give you unencrypted access to their personal communications, and allows you to to place bets on them in our Military Futures Market!

Mech combat might also be popular because it's a lot more appealing to watch on video, compared to a normal grunt getting turned into gibblets.

Also my friend tells me cosmetics are useful in real life casualty calculations, so I am gonna go Cosmetics Are Useful Actually™

That and a specialized mech is easier to spot in the fog of war, so it probably appeals to people watching for fun.

Being the Specialest Little Guy like.... you're both a target and intimidating AF, so good luck on having the skill set to deal with that.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader Hate At First Sight

Summary: after hearing about you getting into a fight with some Military Police, Erwin and Levi go to try and enlist you as a scout, much to Levi’s dismay. Though, after some months spent there, you found yourself to be disliked by many scouts.

(a/n: look at my baby his side profile he’s so beautiful. also i do not hate petra it’s just for the sake of the fic so please don’t @ me lmao)

You gripped your knees, your back hunched while your chest rose and sank as you tried to catch your breath. The reason you were running was that moments ago, some men tried to molest you. Though you were able to beat them down, you obviously didn't want to stay around that area of filthy MPs. Yes, they were everywhere, but that particular place isn't somewhere where you should be late in the evening. Only whores would walk around there. And you definitely aren't one of them. You may have the face and figure of one, but you would never stoop to that level just to get money and to pleasure foul men who treat women as objects. It's good that you're poor because then you have loose clothes that don't make your curvaceous body show. Walking at a slower pace, you made your way to your 'home' which was just a place behind a store, which had sacks piled on top of each other, making it comfortable enough to sleep there rather than the gelid ground. And to be able to get the owner to let you stay there, you had a massive dispute that caused you to get attention to yourself and you were on the verge of pulling out the blade you keep in your boot. But now, you are on good terms with him.

A lot of the friends you had didn't remain with you because of your temper. Or they would have been caught by the Military Police. Either way, you don't have any of your past friends. Hey, it's not your fault you would go out of control at any time, sometimes for no reason. Well, it is your fault but you didn't make yourself this way, so tell that to whatever god is up there.

You plopped down onto the stack of sacks, staring up at the midnight blanket, where stars sparkled in and the gleaming moon gazed down at you. As you rested your head on your arm and your other arm laid across your torso, your stomach slightly grumbled from being deprived of food. Sighing, you jumped up, heading inside the shop you laid behind. Thankfully, it was a small restaurant. As you walked in, the owner glanced at you with a frown. "(Y/N), it's closing time. Why are you coming in now?" You put a hand to your stomach. "Don't tell me. It's my hollow stomach." "Here." He chucked you a whole loaf of bread and an apple. "Now, leave. I've got to clean up." "Thanks.” Sitting back down, you threw the apple up in the air and caught it in your left hand as you ate the bread. After finishing the food, you relaxed and closed your eyes, so you could escape from the life you have and dream about living somewhere else, somewhere cosy, somewhere warm and more home-like. And maybe even someone you could spend your life with without them leaving you because of your fierceness or dying. ~/~ "Corporal Levi?" "What?" aforementioned person replied with an exasperated sigh. "Commander Erwin said he needs to talk to you." "Tch. Okay." He walked away with profanities soaring through his mind, wanting to just go to his office and avoid people that were getting on his nerves. Stepping into the Commander's office, he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall after shutting the door. "What do you want?" The Commander gestured to a chair in front of him so the other male could sit down and he could inform him of the situation. "A while ago, in Wall Sina, there was a woman who got in a fight with a few Military Police and took off with ODM gear. She isn’t a soldier or anything, so she most likely hadn't handled gear before, but she was able to use it with ease, meaning she's someone skilled." "So?" "We need to go get her to enlist as a scout." "Tch. Why? She already sounds shitty and bratty." "We're going tonight, Levi." He stood up and left the office, clicking his tongue. All he wanted was to avoid people and now, he has to go get some bitch who probably doesn't even know how to wipe their ass. An hour, or so, ago... A group of four Military Police surrounded you, all of them having smug expressions that made you want to punch them in their faces... and then their balls. You wouldn't let them get away with only a punch to the face. Who do they think you are? A princess? You steal some gear thingy, that looked intriguing to you, from one of them and suddenly you're the bad guy? These idiots think they can beat you as well. You could just laugh. "Do you really think you can beat me?" you chuckled. You did just laugh. "We don't want to hurt you, darlin'. Just give us back the gear." "Who said you can call me darlin'?" you snarled and fly kicked one of them. He ended up slamming against the building behind him, sliding down the wall, knocked out. You charged at another, kicking their crotch and punching the top of his head as he dropped onto the ground with a thud.

Two more left... One of them came towards you with their fist drawn back to punch you with a force meant to harm you but you caught their fist and twisted their arm, pushing it towards their chest as they let out a cry of pain. You thrust your foot at his abdomen as he held his arm, groaning.

"Are you really going to try and beat me?" The last one only smirked, approaching you, so you pulled out the blades from the equipment you took from him and pressed it to his neck. He froze on the spot and gulped, cold sweat appeared on his flesh and dropped with a patter on the ground. "I'm going to give you five seconds to take your comrades and get your asses out of here." You put the blade back into its place and watched the panicking man pick up the other dirty humans and hurry away, not wanting to wait to see what you would do after five seconds. Ignoring the people gawking at you, you dusted your clothes before figuring out how to use the gear to head to your favourite shop, wanting something to drink. You were able to do it with ease, flying through the doors and swiftly landing on your feet. The bell rang to notify people that someone came in.

You sat on your table. Yes, it was your table and all the regulars knew that after seeing you pound a man for taking your table. Ever since then, no one has sat at that table apart from the drunk idiots who want your attention or people that haven't been to this place yet. It was near the window and it had the sofa seat so you would lean your back against the window, stretching your legs across the seat. You placed the equipment you took on the table.

"Oi, Luis," you called to the owner, and he looked at you from where he was at the counter. "The usual." He nodded at you and proceeded to make you your black tea with no sugar. After about five minutes, he placed the cup of tea in front of you as you handed him some money you were able to 'earn', paying him for the food he gave you the last few days as well. But you always got a discount so it wasn't too much of a problem for you to stea-- earn a bit of dough. "Hi, (Y/N)~" Yay, another drunken fool trying to hit on you. You rolled your eyes, disregarding his presence that sat opposite you as you drank your tea. He was saying shit you weren't listening to. But, seriously, who gets drunk during the day? He's probably just another jerk whose wife ran away from and took most of his money or something like that. All these snobby, egotistic people, who live within Wall Sina, piss you off to the extent that you want to make sure that their pained screams reach Wall Rose, so that those citizens would know what would happen if they pissed you off. "Hey, idiot, I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of my sight," you growled. All he did was smirk and lean over the table, trying to get closer to you. You punched him the middle of his face, but it didn't look like he could feel it. You stood up and dragged him off the seat, kicking him over and over as he laid on the sparkling, marble floor. "Hey, hey, hey!!" Luis jogged up to you. "(Y/N), you need to stop beating up my customers! Soon, you'll be my only customer." "Tell this bastard to get the fuck out and leave me alone, then." "I can't kick someone out for you." "Tch." You trudged out of the shop, wandering around the streets, hiding from any MPs that walked past, so you could evade another fight since you weren't in the mood for any action. "Hey, (Y/N)!" "Moritz," you greeted as he came up to you. "I haven't seen you in a while." "Just trying to stay away from any bastards. So, get away from me," you joked to which he chuckled softly. "My offer still stands... I'd like a daughter like you." "Sorry, Moritz. Leon isn't my type." "My son is in love with you. He's a kind and soft lad and if I'm being fair, he's handsome." "Exactly. That isn't my type. I want someone strong, feisty and someone able to handle my temper and maybe get into heated arguments with me. But of course, I want someone attractive." Several hours later... "Levi, are you ready?" "Yes." The stoic man let out a heavy breath and proceeded to leave his office, following the tall blonde. They both got their gear before leaving the building and entering a carriage waiting for them. "Why is this brat special? There are so many cadets that can use ODM gear." "As I said before, she isn’t a soldier and was able to use it without practice." "What's her name?" "(Y/N) (L/N)." The rest of the journey was quiet, only a few words of what they were going to do and the occasional click of the tongue because of how long the trip was. Finally, they arrived in front of a classy restaurant and it was filled with people due it being the evening when couples go there. You shimmied past the couples all dressed up in fancy clothes and you were able to make it out of it. Looking back over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes before frowning when you saw two men standing in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and arched an eyebrow. "Look, I took your friend's gear hours ago. Why are you still chasing after me? It's not that big of a deal." "Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" the taller male asked. "... Yes. What do you want?" "May I see the gear you were talking about?" "Are you going to take it?" "No." "Okay. Follow me." You walked to your pile of sacks, expecting them to be behind you but they were in their place. "You coming or what?" They slowly approached you, wary of their surroundings. "What is this place?" the stoic male questioned, clearly disgusted. "Welcome to my humble abode." You ignored his criticism. You looked about for the gear but you couldn't find it, that's when you realised that you had left it in the restaurant. You hoped that no one took it. You sighed and looked into the restaurant, telling the two males where you left it, so they dismissed you, allowing you to get it and they followed you but waited outside. You opened the door, pushing people out of the way. "Move out the way, you fucking arrogant idiots," you muttered. You looked around your table where a couple sat but you didn't care since you weren't going to sit there and there wasn't any other space. You frowned when you didn't see it. Who the fuck took it? ... Oh, they did. There were two men and a woman on a table with the gear in front of them as they all put their nasty hands on it. The woman was drunk and holding a wine glass filled with a red liquid, one of the men was smoking and the other had a beer. You barged through the crowd, striding to their table. "Excuse me. This is mine." You tried taking it, but the man closest to you stopped you from doing that as he stood up, coming closer to you so you backed away. You could smell the cigarettes emitting from him as you held your breath at the foul smell. "Now, why would I let you take this without anything in return?" "Tch. Give it before I prevent you from having kids." "I wouldn't mind having a baby with a gal like you." "Get your breath out of my face. And give it to me. I swear, I'll knock you down so you won't be able to get up ever again," you grumbled. "I like my women feisty." You punched his left cheek and he stumbled back into his seat as you picked up the gear, turning around to face the entrance but all you saw was more people entering. Okay, you didn't care anymore. You swiped a man and stepped on him to get closer to the door but a woman came in your way, her boobs blocking your way. You slid through what little space there was and jumped over a short person, enabling you to exit and go back to the two men outside. The one with blue eyes looked surprised as you passed him the material. "That was impressive." "What?" "How you got past all those people." "Eh, it was nothing." "Anyway, are you able to use this properly?" "Yes. It isn't that hard." "Can you show me your skills with it?" "Why? Wait... how do you even know my name? Who are you people?" you inquired after realisation hit you. "I'm Commander Erwin Smith and this is Corporal Levi Ackerman. We're from the Scout Regiment and we heard that you got into a fight with some MPs and you were able to easily use this so I wanted to see your skills and see if you're worthy of becoming a scout." "Why would I want to join you? All of you are stupid to leave the walls to fight titans. I don't want to become like you. And there are a lot who don't even know how to fight and I don't want to fight with morons,” you responded. "Yes, I don't have a great life but it's better than risking it to go do something stupid. I don't care if you're the Commander and he's Humanity's Strongest Soldier, I'm not becoming a scout." "Tch. We don't do something stupid, we fight for humanity. You only fight to get away from trouble. I don't know why we have to save the likes of you but we do and we don't do it because we want to, we do it because we have to. And they may be idiots, but they're damn good soldiers who shouldn't be ill spoken about by someone like you," Levi growled lowly, venom laced in his words. 'Someone like you', who does this fucking midget think he is? You were probably around his height but women are generally shorter than men. You narrowed your eyes and proceeded to thrust your fist at his face but he dodged it before headbutting you. He punched your nose, causing it to bleed and he struck your gut straight after. He threw punches at you, one after another, until you had enough, bringing your leg up to kick the side of his head. He put his hand there, weakening the blow, and grabbed your ankle, slamming you down onto the stone ground. You felt slightly dizzy but you shook it off, standing up immediately, ramming your knuckles into his face and you tried to trip him over but he kept his balance. After punches being thrown and both of you being beaten up, to finish the fight off, he slid behind you and twisted your arm behind your back, stepping on your foot as his other hand held your wrist by your side. You tried shaking him off, but it was futile. He twisted your arm more, getting a quiet hiss of pain from you. "You may be able to beat up some useless MPs but we, at the Scout Regiment, are nothing like them. You better think twice before you try to fight with me." "Thank you, Le--" Erwin started but was cut off. "(Y/N)?" a gentle voice uttered, and you turned your head towards it. "What are you doing here, Leon?" "I-I came here to see you..." he shyly said, his ginger hair hiding his emerald eyes as he gazed at the ground where blood trailed. "What's happening? Who are these men?" He looked back up with concern pooling in his orbs. "It's nothing. Do you want to talk about something?" "It can wait. It looks like you have to deal with something." "Oi, get off of me. I won't try to put up a fight, or run away." "I don't trust you." You clicked your tongue and lifted your foot up to kick his groin but he wrapped his leg around yours so you weren't able to strike him. "Can I not talk to him?" you snapped. "Levi, let her go." "Idiot," you murmured loud enough so he was able to hear but he didn't say anything. You walked up to the boy. "Leon, I don't think you should tell me anything important because I don't know if I'm going to be able to see you after today. They're from the Survey Corps and they want to enlist me. I don't want to go, but it looks like they're going to force me." "But--" You could see the tears welling up in his pretty eyes. "I love you, (Y/N)." "I know. But that's how it is. Sorry." You didn't sound sorry at all, your tone was your usual dull, yet harsh one, but you genuinely did feel a bit of compassion for him. After two years of trying to get you to be his wife, you're going to leave his life without leaving any feelings for him. He was a gentleman and you liked him, however, not as a lover or whatever, he was just delightful to have around. You didn't want to leave him like this so you embraced him, gently rubbing his back and whispering a few words. "Will you ever come back?" "I don't know. It's a high possibility that I won't." "If you do, will you marry me then?" "We'll have to see," you smiled; it was the first smile you ever let break out onto your lips since you were around ten. "Tch. Why did I come to see this?" "Shut up, Levi. Just be glad that you'll have a valuable soldier on your side." A scowl replaced your smile. He scoffed. "We've got plenty of useful soldiers, including myself." "I might see you later, Leon. Bye." "Bye, (Y/N)." He took your hand and softly kissed it. And with that, you left the boy in heartbreak and started a new life as a scout after showing them your skills, which Levi scoffed at so you backhanded him. On the way to headquarters, you and Levi sat opposite each other and argued as Erwin silently sat there, wishing for the ride to be over. Since the journey was long and it was around midnight, you had fallen asleep after some time, allowing peace to settle into the carriage. Once you reached HQ, Erwin stepped out and stood by the carriage, waiting for you and Levi to get off. "Oi, brat, get up." Levi tried to awake you. "Brat, wake up." "Who you calling brat?" you asked tiredly, failing to convey your irritation. "You. Now, shut up and get out." "Tch. Don't go telling me what to do, Ackerman," you muttered angrily, too tired to put up a fight. All three of you entered the building and coincidentally, you were walking next to Levi, starting another argument so Erwin walked in between the both of you, leading you to his office, while Levi went to his.

"Take a seat, (Y/N),” he told you. "This is the key to your room. We'll fill out the paperwork and do everything tomorrow. For now, just go sleep and I'll tell you all you need to know tomorrow." "Whatever." You left his office after he told you the directions to your room and you went there, finding a single bed with a bedside table that had a lit lantern. The first thing you wanted to do was have a shower since you felt sweaty from all the action you had today. Once you showered, you went straight to bed, snuggling into the blanket, able to have a good night's sleep for once in ages. ~/~ After changing into your uniform, you looked at your reflection. It fit you very well but you didn't want it to. You don't like showing your curves, but it's not that you feel insecure with people looking, you just don't like it. You don't want your body to be the thing that attracts people and you don't want people coming after you because of your alluring figure. With no hesitation, you would punch anyone that tries to touch you. As you were told to, you went to Erwin's office before breakfast started, ignoring the gazes that were focused on your form. You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his office, slamming the door behind you. "Gosh, these idiots don't know how to keep their eyes in their sockets." You turned your head to the door, not noticing Erwin's cerulean eyes on you. He blinked to break himself out of his daze and cleared his throat as he gestured to the seat in front of him. You sat down casually, not caring about being formal. "Sit up, (Y/N)." "Tch." "Sit up," he repeated. "You shouldn't disobey your superiors." You sighed and did as he said. "Happy?" "I've got these papers for you to sign," he told you as he handed a few sheets. "And these papers have information that you'll need to know but I'm going to go through it with you. I'm going to put you in Hanji's command..." After about half an hour, you were able to leave his office and make it for breakfast. You entered the mess hall with him and grabbed some food, sitting down on an empty table since you have yet to get to know these people and you thought that people would come up to you first. "Who is she?" "Mmm~ Look at that ass." "Look at those boobs." "You lot are pervs." "You only say that because you have Krista." "Yeah, and she's better than whoever that woman is." "I think she's pretty." "She's certainly not ugly." "Eren?" "Mikasa, do you not say anything else?" "Eren?" "What?" "Stop ogling her." "I-I wasn't." "Yeah, right, Jaeger. Wipe the drool from your mouth." "I'm the one drooling? You look like you have rabies." "You want to take this outside?" "Both of you, stop being children." You glanced at the table making the most noise and saw that all ten of them were looking in your way. Some averted their eyes as others smiled at you, however, you gave a cold stare in return before looking back at your food. It wasn’t exactly intentional to look at them like that, it's basically just your usual expression. "Did you see that?" "She may be pretty, but she's rude." "Who does she think she is? Looking at us like that." "I didn't see what happened." "Of course you didn't. You were too busy stuffing your face with food." "I think we should go talk to her." "Yeah, teach her a lesson." "Guys, sit down. You can't do that do a new person." "Yeah, guys, what's wrong with you?... Wait like a week, then you can teach her a lesson." "Jean! Don't encourage them!" "Oi, you lot?" You stood at their table, their heads turning your way as they had just noticed that you were there. "If you try to beat me up, you'll be s-- What the hell are you doing?!" you yelled at the person on your left who just touched your ass. "Feeling your ass," he stated nonchalantly. "You people are pervs. I agree with whoever that it is." "Whoever that it is, is Ymir," said girl inserted. They all introduced themselves to you but you couldn't be any less interested. "Okay, whatever. I don't give a shit about who you are. I came here to tell you that if you, Eren, Ymir, Jean and Reiner, try to beat me up, you'll be sorry. And I don't understand, do you want to grope my ass or beat it, Reiner?" "Who said I can't do both?" he smirked as you rolled your eyes, about to go back to your table. "Wait, (Y/N). Why don't you sit with us?" "So I can get harassed? No, thanks." "Just sit with us. We promise we won’t do anything," Jean told you. With slight reluctance, you got your plate from the other table and sat on the end of the table next to Armin, everyone focused on you as you spoke about your life before you came here.

At times, you would notice brown eyes belonging to a strawberry-blonde girl and grey eyes belonging to a raven man flutter towards you, but every time you looked up, they pretended as if they weren't staring at you. You could feel their glares burn into you. And you knew Levi's stare was of anger, but what was that girl's problem? ~/~ You wore a vest top and shorts, training with Reiner who volunteered to, probably just so he could see you with fewer clothes on. It's been going on for the past few weeks. You were a bit distracted during training because you felt as if someone was watching you and they were giving off a dark aura. You looked around but couldn't find anyone. "(Y/N), are you okay?" "Yeah. Come on." You waited for him to attack you and he did but you were able to knock him down before you saw the cause of the dark aura in the distance. "Hey, you!" you shouted, going towards them. "Do you have something to say to me?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "No. Nothing at all." She clenched her jaw. "You're Petra, right?" "Yeah. Actually, I do want to tell you something, you stay away from Corporal Levi," she growled, scrunching your vest in her fist. "Woah, Petra! What are you doing to (Y/N)?" Reiner jogged up to the two of you. Damn, now you can't beat the crap out of her. She let go of you and put on a bright smile, facing Reiner who knew that that smile was fake. "Nothing. I was just giving her some advice about making friends." "We need to train so leave us alone," Reiner took your arm protectively and dragged you away, but you protested. "Wait. I'll train with Petra today," you smirked devilishly. "No." "Oi, Petra! How about you spar with me?" "... Why?" "Just." You shrugged. "Sure," she agreed when she saw Levi come outside of the building, taking the chance to get his attention. You knew she wasn't strong enough for her to beat you, so this wouldn't end well for her. You both got into a fighting stance, before you threw your fist forward at her face, but you stopped just before you hit her so she dodged the potential blow and wasn't able to elude the kick you gave at her side. She was about to topple over but she caught herself, not letting you be victorious just yet. She attempted to punch your gut but you blocked it by making a cross over yourself. A crowd formed around you two, including the Corporal that Petra seemed obsessed about. But, of course, with his short stature, he wasn't able to see who exactly was fighting, so he pushed people out of the way, able to reach the front and see you and Petra. She tried to trip you over but that failed miserably and she fell flat on her face. A few from the huddle snickered quietly as others applauded even though it wasn't a real win. You crouched down and whispered, "Good luck in impressing that stubborn idiot." You got back up, grabbed your uniform and walked off, ignoring Levi who called for you. "Hanji!" you called to get her attention as she strolled through the castle. "Yes?" "Does Petra like Levi or something?" "I think so, yes. Why are you asking?" "During my training, she was watching me and she said to stay away from him. We got into a small fight which quickly ended because of her stupidity. I'm guessing the only reason this happened is that she's jealous. But she's moronic if she thinks that I would try to move to Levi." "Who's moronic?" a familiar voice spoke from behind you. You turned around. "Petra. Why the fuck would she think that I like you? You're bothersome, you're stubborn, you're irritating, you're an ass, you annoy the hell out of me and you're a bastard." "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "The same can be said about you." "Tch. Shut it, Ackerman." "You know, you have a temper problem. And you shouldn't talk to me like that." "This is who I am. I can talk to you in any way I like." "You might not be able to talk after I knock your teeth out," he threatened with a glare. "I'm not scared of you." "We'll see about that," he muttered before walking away. "And put some clothes on." "What did you do to Shorty to make him so angry with you?" "I called soldiers stupid. Got in a fight with him. We've argued a lot of times." "Oof. I would have advised you to stay on his good side." "Too late." You shrugged. "It won't last long. He'll soften up after some time." "I don't think he will. Whatever, I need to go 'put some clothes on'." "Okay. Can I borrow you after for help with experiments?" Hanji asked slowly, hoping you wouldn't yell at her like last time, saying how you didn't give a sh*t about it. "No," you bluntly said as you left her, going to your room but was stopped by an annoying figure who you rolled your eyes at. "Looking good, (Y/N)." "Shut up." "You look a little dirty, want to have a shower with me?" You grabbed Jean's collar and brought your face close to his, a glare etched on your visage as you saw his Adam's apple move down and then back into its place as he gulped. "Shut the hell up and I'll let this one time slide." He nodded and scurried off once you let you go of him, entering your room and locking the door behind you. You decided to shower since you were covered in sweat and you felt nasty. ~/~ "Eurgh, look who it is," a voice whispered a little too loud as you entered the mess hall for breakfast, striding to your usual table with a few of people that you don't mind being around and the few that aren't annoying you or bothering you in any way. "She doesn't belong here." "You know, I heard that before she came here she worked in a brothel." "Everyday, she wears her vest top and short shorts, acting like a slut." "The other day, she was being a bitch to me. She laughed at my figure when I was looking in my reflection. Then, she said that no one would love me when I have a body like this." "I've heard that she's flirted with every man she's had contact with." This has been going on for at least three months: people making fun of you, talking about you, pushing you about, calling you names and such. You haven't taken any of it to heart, but you wondered what happened to make nearly everyone despise you. Everyone but superiors and the ten scouts you had befriended first, and even though Levi dislikes you, he doesn't contribute to the crowd that is being cruel to you. He already hated you from the start. "They're still going at it?" "Forget about them," Erwin told you. "How can I when they're practically saying it to me? All of what they're saying isn't even true. And they shouldn't try to start a fight with me because I'll beat the sh*t out of them." "Well, you are a bitch, so that's true," Levi murmured. "Ackerman, I suggest you shut up before I beat the shit out of you." You rammed your heel into his foot under the table since you were opposite him. "Tch. You should be happy that some of us aren't part of those dumb brats." "Dumb?" you repeated. "So, you're saying that they're dumb for saying all that stuff about me?" "... No... They're stupid in general." "Mhm." "What was that?" He frowned. "What?" "That 'mhm'." "Nothing." After staring at each other questioningly, you both went quiet as the other superiors on your table carried on their own conversations. Halfway through breakfast, you felt something cold and wet being poured onto your head, soaking your shirt and falling down your shirt which sent a shiver through you. You stood up and turned around to the laughing bastards, kicking the boy in the nuts and slapping the girl which shut them up. "What the fuck is your problem?! What did I do to you?!" "Someone decided to go braless today," the girl whispered to the other. You looked down and felt your cheeks growing red, out of rage and embarrassment. Something landed on your head and hung over your chest. You realised that it was a cape that Levi threw at you, which you wrapped around yourself before heading to your room to change out of the drenched clothes that you had just changed into. "Why the hell are you doing this? Yeah, she can be a brat, but all of you are, so I don't know why you lot are acting like this towards her when she didn't do anything. Both of you have kitchen duty for two months. If I see you one of you two do anything to her, you won't see the end of it." "Yes, sir." "Now, get the hell out of my face," Levi ordered as he sat back down in his seat, the others on the table looking at him with surprise. Who knew he would stand up for you like that? "What are you looking at?" "How come you stood up for (Y/N) like that?" Miche asked. "I didn't stand up for her. I was scolding them for acting like that towards a cadet." "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say," Hanji said quietly with a smirk. "You shut up, Shitty Glasses." "I'm just saying that I don't think you would have done that for any other scout." "... That may be true, but they're mistreating (Y/N) for no reason." "Getting close to her, are we?"

"Tch. Just shut up." "Shorty has a crush~" Hanji sang in a low voice near his ear as she sat next to him, her 'best friend'. "I've only known her for five damn months. How could I already like her?" "Why are you asking me? And five months isn't that short, it's quite long if you think about it." "I don't care. I don't like her." "Okay~ Whatever you say~" Levi shot daggers at her before going back to eating in silence, not interacting with any more annoying people who seem to have a habit of bothering him nearly every day. One day, they'll leave him and he can live in serenity. One day, when all the titans are rid of and he can leave this shithole. All he has to do wait for that damn day that's taking its time to arrive. Can't it be a little more considerate? "I have to agree with Hanji. You seem to be a little protective over (Y/N)," Erwin stated after some time. "I. Don't. Fucking. Like. That. Brat." "Calm down, Levi. It's not a bad thing to like (Y/N)," Moblit teased. "Tch." The raven stood up and left the mess hall as he could hear the others laughing at him in the background. He slammed the door shut and trudged to his office with a scowl. He found you standing outside his office, your hand reaching for the handle but you stopped when you saw him come your way. "What are you doing, brat?" "I was going to give you your cape back. Thanks," you muttered. "Shut up," he grumbled, snatching the material from your hands and stepping into his office, locking the door. "Oi! Why are you telling me to shut up when I said thanks?" you shouted. "Get away from my office!" he yelled back. You rolled your eyes and started to go back to the mess hall. "Last time I thank you, bastard," you mumbled to yourself. ~/~ Your door shut with a bang after you had stormed into it, and leaned your back against the wood, hiding your face in your hands as you cried. Your legs gave out so you dropped to the ground with your legs arched and your arms resting on your knees as you placed your head on your arms, feeling tears drop onto your lap, seeping through your clothes. Two minutes later, you heard laughing, yelling and then footsteps approach your room. Light knocks sounded from the door with the soft call of your name. You knew who it was, but didn't respond so they turned the handle, slowly pushing the door open, however, you prevented that from happening by sitting by the door. They slid through the small gap before closing the door again, crouching down to you. "(Y/N)." "Leave me alone!" you shouted, though it was muffled behind your sobs and your face was hidden. "No. You obviously need someone right now." "I hate you! I hate all of them! Just get the fuck out!!" you roared, tearing your face away from your arms and looking at Levi's gentle expression. He didn't seem startled at all. "... Why are they doing this to me?" you whispered and concealed your face again, not wanting Levi to see you in this state. "Ignore them." "You know, it's all that Petra's fault. The bitch is envious of me and just wants to break me down into nothing. All because she's in love with you and she thinks that I like you!" "Tch. I don't even like her. She can fuck off. And how is doing this going to make me fall for her? I was wondering why she was being more clingy than usual," he muttered, but it was more to himself before he turned his attention back to you. "Don't let her break you down. You're a strong woman, so don't let something petty like this ruin you." "What am I meant to do? You don't know how hard it is to overlook them. You don't know how hard it is to keep a straight face when I'm hurting inside. I don't care if Petra may be making them do this, I hate it!" Surprisingly, you felt arms loop around your cowered form and haul you onto Levi's lap which made you remove your head from your arms again, looking at the raven, who was now right in front of you and gazing at your bloodshot eyes. He gently wiped your tears away and brushed a few (H/C) tresses that stuck to your tear-stained face.

More tears escaped as you shoved your face into his chest, soaking his shirt with the salty moisture and snot. He cradled you in his arms until you stopped crying which was about under an hour. "Are you okay now?" "Yeah. Thank you," you murmured as you wiped your face with tissue that Levi got for you. "Don't mention it. Do you need to talk?" "What's there to talk about? Petra hates me so she got people to make my life hell and I broke down." "I don't know how you were able to put up with it for half a year." "Barely. I just put on a poker face." Levi gently grabbed your chin in between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head towards him as you saw a slight smile creep onto his lips. "Don't hide your feelings anymore," he whispered before tenderly kissing you, his eyes fluttering shut. You were taken aback before you were brought back to your senses, finding yourself kissing him back as you cupped his face with a single hand. One of his hands trailed up from your hips to your scalp, tangling his slender fingers in your tousled locks. He was the first to pull away with gleaming orbs gazing at you with affection, licking away the strand of saliva that connected his lips to yours. "I'll always be here for you. To protect you, to talk, to comfort you, or whatever else you want." "Thank you, Levi," you hummed, leaning your forehead against his, pecking his lips once more. "Come on. Let's go eat." "I don't want to go," you said with pleading eyes. "I told you that I'll be here for you. You have to eat something before you sleep." "Please, don't make me go." "Just sit with me. I'll make sure that no one does anything to you." "I can't." "You need to endure it to become stronger. I'll be right next to you, okay?."

Sighing shakily, you stood up with a nod. "Okay." "I like seeing this vulnerable side of you," Levi teased as he walked out of your room, you padding beside him. "Shut up. You aren't allowed to tell anyone about this." The Corporal only smirked as you rolled your eyes.

As you strolled through the corridors to get to the mess hall, a few people were lingering, standing on the side and snickering when you went past. You tried to ignore them, though, it was difficult. "I heard that she got Corporal Levi drunk to sleep with her." "I can't, Levi. I'm going back to my room." You proceeded to turn and walk away but he grabbed your forearm. "(Y/N)." He cupped your face with both of his hands, making you face him but you averted your eyes, feeling tears welling up. "Look at me." You reluctantly brought your eyes back to his. "She's a whore. She tried to make me have sex with her and my friend. She wanted a threesome!" "Levi, I'm going." You tried freeing yourself from his hold, but he didn't let you. "No. Look at me. Ignore them." "How am I meant to ignore them?!" "Look at me!" he commanded. "... You can ignore them if you put your mind to it. Don't let them cause you grief because then it pains me to see you hurt. I don't like seeing you in pain so don't get affected by them. Ignore them and keep your eyes on me." A tear rolled down your cheek so he embraced you tightly, stroking your back soothingly. He let out an inaudible huff, wishing he could relieve your pain. "I won't force you to go to the mess hall. Go to my office, I'll bring you food." You nodded and pulled away from his grip. When you made your way to his office, people would say or do things but you stayed strong, and you were kind of proud of yourself once you made it into his office. You sat down on his sofa, waiting for him to come back. About five minutes later, the raven appeared with a tray of two bowls, bread and two glasses of water. He settled it onto his desk after you helped him clear the surface. You both sat down and ate together, allowing him to see your smile that he was deprived of ever since people started to harass you. After years of dreaming of having a home, having someone to stay with you, they came true. You have someone strong, feisty and you're sure you'll have plenty more heated arguments to come. On top of it all, he was damn sexy.

[trashroyalty99]

Axton deserves more attention, so this one's for him. (Our bisexual king)

Domestic life headcanons for Axton.

-Axton loves to call you pet names. Most of them are military related. For example, Rookie, Private sweetie, Babe, etc.

-His favorite one is Rookie. And you call him lovingly Soldier. (Soldier of your heart.)

-He has a lot of free-time(he doesn't but he makes time for you.)

-You can usually find him at the shooting range, at the bar or in your shared room just chilling.

-He has a small collection of figurines in your room, which he takes very good care of while leaving rest of the room in complete disarray.

-He has a tendency to leave his stuff lying around, so you have to pick them up for him.

-Which leads him asking you where his stuff is.

"Babe, where's my rifle?

"Next to your collection of figurines."

"Thanks, babe. You're the best." Walks past you and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

-He loves it when you give him a massage after a long day. He's tight, so you have to give him an extra hard massage.

-This is usually followed by cuddles. He usually smells of sweat and gunpowder. An smell, you've grown to love.

-His turret may become slightly, jealous of you two, but you give it headpats to give her daily attention. (She likes it.)

-He loves showing off his body to you. In all of its glory. He knowingly takes off his shirt when he's about to start his workout. (He enjoys the gaze you get whenever you look at his muscles.)

-Axton snores. Loudly. It can be compared to an chainsaw going off and Torgue weapons firing at the same time.

-You've considered silencing him with a pillow few times but you usually nudge him to turn to his side, to stop him.

-He then cuddles with you in his sleep. He has the biggest smile on his face, when he does so.

-He's extremely warm during the nights. On most nights, you won't need an blanket as he works as a heat blanket.

-In the morning, if he wakes up before you he will cook you breakfast. In classical soldier fashion some beans and sausages. If, you don't like it he will cook you something else. (His heart will be broken though.)

-Absolutely wears the kiss the cook appron.

-Your dates are usually just driving around Pandora but sometimes you two manage to scrape enough money to go somewhere fancy to eat.

-He will wear his suit for the occasion. Funnily, enough he can't tie his tie.

-You have to help him do it and maybe steal an kiss in the process.

-It might turn into an slight make out session. Maya has had the displeasure of finding you two in middle of it.

"Not again guys. We've talked about this. Put a sign on the door, if you're gonna do this."

"Can't help it when, my boyfriend/girlfriend is this hot."

-He will compliment you how good you look no matter, if you spent preparing for five minutes or five hours. But he can recognise, if you've put a lot of work in it. Which will result in even more compliments.

-If, he gets drunk (Which he will, because he's a lightweight.) he will start boasting about how awesome and beautiful you are.

-You will try to stop him, but he will keep going and give you validations of his love while he's at it. (He will try to sing. Stop him for everyone's sake.)

-When he's hungover, you cuddle with him to make him stay at bed, since otherwise he will run out to do his workout.

-Axton will buy you sweets and flowers as a thank you for your help. And a gun to make sure you can protect yourself, if he's not with you.

-He will teach you how to use it properly, if you don't know already.

"Alright, babe. Put your finger on the trigger, aim and pull it. But, firstly have your hands always been this soft?"

-A lot of flirting will be involved in the training.

-Axton wants you to know, how much he loves you and will make it apparent. He will always tell he loves you and how beautiful/handsome you look no matter what.

-And if, you're going through hard time, he will listen to you. And/or possibly shoot the idiot who made you feel like shit in the first place.

So, yeah. Some domestic life headcanons for Axton. An extremely underrated character.

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Thanks // Jay Halstead x Reader // Pt 4

Description: Jay reaches out when he needs it

Warnings: Emotional Whump

Pairing: Jay x Reader (Eventual), Reader x Mouse!Platonic, Jay x Mouse!Platonic

Words: 1620

A/N: No worries, our favorite best friend will be back in the next part. I’m on a roll, the muse assisting to keep the creative juices flowing!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You checked in with the ED, knowing Jay got discharged later that day despite his doctors wanting him to at least stay the night for observation. He was stubborn, you were learning. Though, you’d be surprised if he wasn’t. You felt bad though, knowing he was going to be on desk duty for a while. It seemed as if he’d been through it before, knowing the routine pretty well. 

It took a couple days for your phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on the screen. You’d just gotten home from work, tossing your bag on the couch. Honestly, you’d just been looking forward to a bath, some TV, and a glass of wine before bed. 

“Y/N,” you told whoever was on the phone as you answered it. 

“Hey, hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Jay answered, a smile quickly forming on your face.

“No, I just got home. What’s up?” You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the bottle of wine out of the refrigerator. 

“I don’t want you to have to move your schedule around on my part to visit Mouse, so I’ll just tag along whenever you go.” There was something more to it, though. You could tell by the uneasiness in his voice, stopping yourself from opening the wine just yet. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. I usually go on Mondays and Thursdays. You okay, Jay?” you finally asked.

“Honestly.” You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ve been better. Just a little stir-crazy you know? On medical leave for a little bit, and I really don’t want to take a taxi anywhere.” He chuckled nervously. “And Hailey’s at work, which makes sense. And so is everybody else. And Will is still pissed off that I got shot. I know he just worries but…”

“You’re rambling, Jay. Do you want me to come over? We could order a pizza, watch a movie? Just until somebody gets off work,” you offered, knowing it was going to be a 50/50 shot that he’d take you up on the offer. 

“You sure? I’m not always the greatest company.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way. Just text me your address,” you assured him, putting the wine back in the refrigerator, glass in the cabinet. There went your plans for the night, but spending it with Jay seemed like a better option. 

You were at Jay’s apartment less than an hour later, pizza box in one hand, pack of beer in the other. You weren’t sure if he was on pain meds or not, but figured it wouldn’t be a long shot that he was more of a beer guy than a wine guy. Making quick work of the stairs, you knocked on the door. 

“It’s open!” you heard him call out, letting yourself in. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” you assured again, setting the pizza down on the coffee table in front of him. His lap was covered with a blanket, a pair of crutches right next to the couch. It was a well kept place, not overly fancy, but not a shit-hole either. Being a detective must have meant he made some pretty decent money. “You want one?” you then asked, holding up the six pack.

“Maybe later. The kitchen is right over there, if you could put it in the fridge. You’re more than welcome to have one though.” You followed the direction of his pointed finger, placing the pack in the fridge before going back into the living room. Quickly, you kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your jacket before joining him on the couch. 

He’d turned on a documentary, eyes fixed on the screen except when he reached out to grab a slice of pizza. You knew better than to push it, knowing there was something more just under the surface. There had to be a reason he’d called you and not somebody else. It reminded you of sitting with Mouse, though you knew Jay was more than capable of expressing whatever was on his mind. 

The documentary came to an end, Jay flipping through channels before settling on the hockey game. You’d propped your feet up on the table, leaning back onto the couch. 

“You gonna be okay?” you asked him softly, Jay looking at you finally. 

“Eventually,” he agreed with a nod. “I just...I don’t like being cooped up, you know? Gives me too much time to think.”

“I get it. But I’m here to listen if you want to talk. Not as a doctor, but as your friend,” you reminded him, Jay nodding again. 

“I’m going to get one of those beers. You want one?” he asked, uncovering himself and grabbing his crutches. You tried not to look, didn’t want to make it seem like all you were going to focus on was his leg -- or lack thereof. But you noticed the white bandaging on the remaining section, shorts covering most of it.

“Yeah. I’ll take one,” you agreed before he walked over to the fridge. He had it all down pat, how to get around and grab what he needed to. That’s what thirteen years of being an amputee would do to a person. He handed off the bottle before sitting back down and covering back up. 

He didn’t drink the beer though. He’d popped the top off, held onto it for a few minutes before discarding it on the table. 

“It’s the same every time,” he finally said, your brow furrowing as you tried to understand. The two of you looked at each other as he continued to talk. “The first time I got shot on the job was a through and through on my right shoulder. That’s what got me into the unit I’m in now. It’s a running joke. You get shot, you get to choose your unit. The second time was after my dad died. Grazed my side, but no lasting damage. The third time I almost died. Right shoulder again, hit an artery though. The doctor said I should have died. That it was a miracle. And it’s the same every time. The ‘pop’ of the gun, the searing pain.”

“I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like,” you reminded him.

“I know. It was different, though, in Afghanistan. Here, I know I could get shot. Over there, it was just a question of when. A few grazes, nothing major. I mean, there was a firefight every day. But here, it’s the same every time.” He was repeating himself, that was the first thing you noticed before the shift in body language, hands gripping the blanket a little tighter, the stiffness in his shoulders and jaw. 

“Jay.” You put on the psychiatrist voice, the soft and soothing voice. You didn’t move to touch him, staying firmly where you were. “You’re not there.”

“I know. I know. I just- God, what’s wrong with me?” he confirmed, shaking his head as if it was an etch-a-sketch trying to get rid of the picture. 

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Like I said the other day, trauma can bring things up that we try to push away. It’s completely normal, a natural response. But the only way to work through it is to talk about it. Not to push it away.”

“Now you’re sounding like my last therapist,” he joked with a small laugh, despite the tears brimming in his eyes, running a shaking hand over his face. 

“It is what I do for a living. But you do need to talk about it, Jay. To anybody, doesn’t have to be me. Doesn’t have to be a professional. A friend, a coworker, just someone.” This time, you reached out, letting your hand rest on his arm, rubbing circles on the flesh with your thumb. 

“Mouse and I didn’t get to come home together. He was still in a coma, clinging to life in Germany. I got to come back though, knowing most of our team was dead or dying. And I walked away like this. It took a while. Will was in New York partying. My dad never liked that I joined the military. And my mom...she was really sick. So, I suffered alone for a long time. I learned to compartmentalize, to deal with the nightmares and flashbacks. Not in the healthiest way at first, a lot of drinking. A lot of drinking.” He nodded. “And when Mouse did get to come home, I threw myself into making sure he was okay. He was what brought me back time and time again.”

“You have a support system now, Jay. Your brother cares about you, that much is obvious, though he may not always understand. Your team is there. You were talking about your partner Hailey. I’m sure she’d listen and support you. There’s always Mouse, though he may not give the clearest advice at times.” You both laughed at that. “And you have me. You’re not in this alone anymore, Jay.”

“Thanks for coming over. It means a lot. Can we talk about something a little less morbid than about how fucked up my head is?” 

The rest of the night was spent talking about his job, your job, how you grew up on military bases. It was the same type of conversations you would have with Mouse. It was normal, familiar. And that’s what he needed, letting him lead the conversation. As the night continued on, the sun long gone over the horizon and moon in the sky, there was one thing you became sure of. Whatever drew you to volunteer knew that you needed these two men in your life as much as they needed you. 

Tag List: @yzas-stuff @gemmafountainloves @ceiliesla @corebore123 @annaallicce @fullwattpadmusictree @bethii1 @thevelvetseries @mich-lynne3 @itmejado @music-is-my-escape71 @not-onlyedmlyrics @supergirl000983 @mandybug39 @okiegirl24 @haileymatthewss @httphiddlestan @capmanranger @ahhh0ahhh @bookgiver @daenerys-targaryes @galacticsmoon @beachfan412 @wearesodrica @danielacastellon @genericcaner @halsteadsway @theskytraveler @miranda0102 @amyarondottir @onechicago18 @lovecatystuff @doramstr @itsdesiree86 @raveenasblog

[pip-n-flinx]

yup, it all goes below the cut

So I’ve been seeing a resurgence of ME content following the trailers for ME4 and MELE, which makes sense. But I’m a salty m-fer and I honestly am sick and tired of Mass Effect getting shit on for things that other game studies (looking at you fromsoftware) get praised for. So we’re going to unload a little.

The underpinnings of the mass effect universe is this huge extinction cycle, designed and perpetuated by the Reapers. As sufficiently advanced civilizations reach a tipping point, not unlike the great filter theory of space travel, these AI come in and wipe anyone out. This sort of cyclical storytelling, with pieces of the previous cycles being dribbled in throughout the trilogy, seems pretty similar to progression of Dark Souls. At the end of the Mass Effect Trilogy, many fans were upset by the ending choices: Destroy, Control, and Synthesis.

What are your choices in Dark Souls? At the end of the first game, the cycle ends and you, the player, get to choose how the world enters the next era. Does they cycle of undeath continue, or do you shatter the world and hope something new rises from the ashes?

How, pray tell, is that really any different a decision? And why is it when fromsoftware does this its groundbreaking storytelling, but when bioware does it we decide collectively its ‘just a shitty recolor of the same ending?’

I agree, there are some flaws in how they chose to animate the climactic moments of ME3. For one, the fleet assembly and space combat with the reapers above Earth doesn’t change much no matter how many/which allies you bring to the final fight. And of course, the ‘garbage recolor’ ending. And I agree with the premise that more than the color should have changed. We should not have had to wait for the still flawed Extended Cut ending to be released to see how Shepard’s final choice changes the end of the game.

We can also comment on what the crucible actually does. If it is some incredible power-source in need of direction - the citadel - it is a strange choice of weapon to design for your battle against the reapers. We could speculate endlessly on why the writing team chose this, but the real issue here is that there is very little in game context for how this comes about. We get a few lines from Hackett and Liara explaining the Crucible, but that’s about it. Surely there could have been more discoverable codex entries about it, perhaps on Eden Prime with Javik?

To be clear, I don’t actually have a problem with the end of the Trilogy. Sure, it has its plot holes, but I’m not actually too fussed about it. It felt like a fitting end to the series to me. Graphically a little disappointing, to be fair, but otherwise a fine capstone to the story.

I’ve actually read some comments and posts explaining that they ‘won’t buy the legendary edition because they won’t fix the ending’ and I.... Do you even know what a remaster is? I’m not buying the remaster because I think many of the new lighting choices detract from the story, and a reskin won’t ensure the graphics stand the test of time any better than the old ones. I’m perfectly happy replaying the original trilogy without a fancy graphics package that adds nothing to the artistic vision nor sets out any distinctive art style. A few years will see even these HD 4k graphics obsolete/dated, and I’ve spent enough money on Mass Effect as it is.

Moreover, I really hate what speculation and rumor I’ve heard about Mass Effect 4. First, I hate that it will be a ME4 and not an MEA2. This will take some explaining so bear with me.

I’ve seen videos of the original graphics and animations that caught so much flak for Mass Effect Andromea. Unpopular opinion: I don’t think they were bad, and I certainly don’t think they were bad in the context of Mass Effect. None of the games prior had flawless rotoscoping or anchoring. Even watching stock sheploo in the original trilogy is painful if you’re hoping for realism. If y’all want to play this game we can start sharing clips but suffice to say I’m personally convinced we can go tit-for-tat on awkward animations.

Moreover, I think Mass Effect Andromeda is the best Mass Effect game. Best gameplay, by far. It has all the hallmarks of a great sci-fi: new aliens, new planets, new villains. And while I understand some people felt the switch from overcompetent supersoldier Shepard to young-kid-with-daddy-issues-and-more-than-a-few-bad-bosses Ryder was jarring, I absolutely loved playing a plucky hero who lost their mentor before they’d even properly started training. It gave the game an urgency I loved, and to me Ryder felt like a much more relatable protagonist than Shepard.

The story itself is a fucking masterstroke. Hear me out:

So in Mass Effect, the twin plot drivers are infighting with council/alliance/cerberus ‘allies’ while facing down the threat of and advanced AI wiping out all organic life to preserve diversity and make way for the next ascendant race. In Andromeda, we’re met by the same bickering and infighting amongst our own faction, and the Kett. The Kett, for whom nothing is cyclical. Everyone must assimilate. Who shun technology and seek to eliminate biodiversity by ensuring all civilizations end with Kett. And instead of a well trained military commander and a ship of soldiers, mercenaries, and specialists in the sciences who grow to be respected players on the galactic stage, we get Ryder. Ryder and their crew of misfit nostalgia-driven rock-licking rule-breaking cereal-smuggling culture-vulture heart-broken multiple-amputee nervous-doctor neophiles who meet one alien and have to save all their races from genocide by a rogue Kett Archon. And the Jaardan? the long gone artificial life-forms who had the technological capability to be reaper analogs? They’re the life-givers, the gods of the Andromeda galaxy, seeding species and hope into the galaxy for the player to find.

It’s such a perfect inversion of the original trilogy while still preserving the genre and the universe they had already built. It’s fucking brilliant. And I’ll never forgive them for abandoning it, nor will I forgive the fans whose vitriol stopped the project in its tracks, and killed any hope of a second trilogy.

Honestly, I don’t care if you agree about MEA, or the ME3 ending. I know this isn’t a common take among bioware fans. I just... I’m so fucking done with this franchise and this fandom. I’d like to think my mutuals and the other blogs I follow have level headed positions on this stuff (possibly more level headed than my own salty takes these days) but I honestly wonder why I’m even on this platform some days. It doesn’t spark much joy anymore. I hope no one takes this personally, I certainly don’t mean this as an attack or criticism of any of my followers but damn, I’ve got a lot of feelings tonight and almost all of them are negative...

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Uncover

A/N: So this is officially my longest work on this blog...over 2K words. I’m happy with how it turned out. Also a lot of asks I’ve completed or am in the process of writing, I just can’t post until a few more days :’( I’ll post them all together very soon.

~~~

“Ah, we’re here. Thank you, sir!” After greeting her driver, Izuki Mina gracefully stepped out of her car. Her silky dark hair was tied up into a tight chignon and her kimono was an elegant shade of orchid. Her heels clacked loudly upon the pavement and she extended a hand towards one of her companions. “Come on.”

6-year old Nako grumbled under her breath, taking it anyways. She looked absolutely precious in her pink dress and space buns, which Mina had accomplished after two hours of fighting her. “Can’t we just turn around now?” She whined. “I wanna go home. This is gonna be so boring.”

Before Mina could respond, Rise replied, “Now, sweetie, that’s not the right attitude to have. Be respectful, we were invited to this wedding.” The older woman, Nako’s mother and Mina’s elder sister, gracefully followed them. 

Mina still had a hard time accepting whose wedding this was. She honestly believed hell would freeze over before Karasuma Tadaomi married someone.

But nope, it was real and happening that very moment. His soon-to-be-wife was also unbelievable. She was a foreign beauty, apparently his co-worker too? Mina knew very little details… it had been a couple years since she’d spoken to Tadaomi. Their families were friends and they saw each other often, eventually becoming good friends as well. Then Tadaomi left for military training...and simply disappeared. Next thing she knows, he was a part of the whole moon exploding business, became a teacher, and was now getting married? Mina couldn’t wrap her head around it all.

The wedding was a very traditional one...unsurprising considering the Karasuma family. The venue was a beautiful Japanese garden, greenery everywhere and the soft pink of the Sakura trees. A faint babbling was heard as water ran in the stream, and a bridge stood over it. Guests were everywhere, chatting casually as more people trickled in along with them. Mina looked a bit further and saw tables filled with appetizers and small snacks to serve as refreshments. She quietly whistled to herself. Damn, this is amazing. It probably was crazy expensive too.

There was a large group of teenagers hanging out in one area of the event, a mixed group of boys and girls. Mina instantly placed them as Karasuma’s former students, from that year he apparently spent as a teacher.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mina spotted Tadaomi, standing with his family. She walked a bit faster, ignoring Nako’s “Where are you going?” 

“Tadaomi!” She called with a smile.

He looked up instantly, surprise splashing across his face. “Ah, Mina,” he greeted with a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”

His dark hair had been styled and gelled back, leaving his handsome facials open. He was dressed in very nice, classy traditional attire. Mina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling self-conscious for some reason. “You too! It’s been a long time.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering that sentence. “Yes, it has. How are you?”

Mina gave a light laugh. “How am I? How are you, Tadaomi? You’re about to get married! Holy shit!”

Tadaomi smiled amusedly. “I’m fine...just a bit eager to get through all this.” He glanced at everything, from the bridge overlooking the water to the bouquets that were everywhere. “It’s...so much.”

Mina sighed. He would always be the same: just his simple, straightforward self. “It’s your wedding, silly. It’s the one day of your life you can splurge and do everything, then go back to normal.”

She looked past him, searching. “By the way, where is the wifey?”

“Ah, she’s talking with our former students.”

Mina raised an eyebrow. Our? So they met on the teaching job...huh. She looked back at the cluster of teens, and lo and behold, the foreign beauty was there. She was gorgeous, with long light curly hair styled to perfection. Her eyes were a vivid blue and her makeup was perfectly applied. Mina couldn’t tell because of the elaborate bridal attire, but she was guessing the woman had a model-esque figure...she looked quite tall too.

How on earth had Tadaomi met this amazing woman?

“Karasuma!” A voice called, and Mina swiveled around to see two men in dark suits waving him over. Their greeting was casual but they had an air of professionalism surrounding them. Mina assumed they were his government co-workers or something.

Tadaomi saw them too and faintly grimaced. “Ah, I’m sorry, we’ll have to finish catching up sometime later today,” he apologized.

Mina shook her head, smiling. “No, it’s okay! I’ll be around...so whenever you wanna talk, it’s fine.”

He nodded and left to talk to his colleagues. Mina stood there for a moment before feeling a tug at her arm. “What-” Oh, it was just a very ire Nako, scowling. 

“Can we get food please?” She demanded. “Mom told me to ask you to go with me.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“Over there.” Nako gestured to her right, where Rize was talking to Tadaomi’s mother. Great. Mina would be stuck babysitting her very grumpy little niece.

“Okay, let’s go,” she sighed.

They made their way past the many guests and towards the tables lined with delicious-looking food. There were so many platters of colorful sushi...Mina had heard a guest mention in passing that it was because it was the bride’s (what was her name again...Ivanka?) favorite food. Mina glanced around, looking at all her options. Her stomach began to grumble in hunger.

Then she saw it. What in the world -

In the midst of all these elegant tables filled with dishes of tasty, delectable, presentable classy food...was a takoyaki street cart. It looked so incredibly out of place, Mina actually blinked. Once. Still there. Twice. Ok, nevermind, it was real.

“Oooh! I want takoyaki!” Nako exclaimed, already pulling Mina towards it.

“Hey, wait!”

They were at the end of a line now, in front of the cart. Mina could hear the guests in front of them murmuring about the oddity as well. “Wasn’t expecting this at all, but hey, I love takoyaki,” a young man said to the girl next to him.

“Yeah, same,” she replied in agreement.

Mina sighed, feeling her stomach grumble even more. All she wanted was to dig into the platters of sashimi on the fancy table, not wait in line for takoyaki of all things. She glanced down. At least Nako would stop complaining for a while.

“Oh, man, I can’t believe Okano started crying at that, of all things,” Mina heard from beside them, and a few of the teenagers from earlier were walking by them. There was a tall boy with dark hair, a shorter boy with orange hair that reminded her of mushrooms, a girl with straight purple hair, and the last girl was the shortest with dark curly hair. They were all dressed in appropriate formal attire.

“I know, right?” The purple girl laughed. “Ooh, let’s try the takoyaki from here!”

There was a short pause until the orange mushroom boy agreed. “Yeah!”

Now they were standing right behind Mina and Nako. She turned and politely smiled at them. Maybe they’d have an answer for this out-of-place food. “Hello!”

They jolted for a moment, before returning a bright grin. Well, the orange boy had a small, cute smile but the dark curly girl looked deadpan. “Hello!”

“Ah, you guys are Tadaomi’s old students, right?”

The tall boy smiled and nodded. “Yes, we are! I’m Sugino, and this is Fuwa, Mimura, and Hazama,” he listed them off, gesturing to each kid accordingly. Sugino definitely seemed like a chatterbox, a very friendly charming one too.

Fuwa rubbed her chin, giving Mina an odd look. “Hmm...you call Karasuma-sensei by his first name? How close are you?”

“Fuwa!” Mimura exclaimed in embarrassment. Fuwa struck Mina as someone who was usually unfiltered, judging by his reaction.

“You can’t just ask her that. It’s none of our business,” Hazama sighed, almost sounding apologetic.

“What? I’m just wondering...you guys are, too! Don’t deny it!” she protested. Yep, she definitely didn’t have a filter.

Mina laughed, slightly put off but more amused than anything. “It’s ok! No worries! I’m Mina, and this is my niece Nako. My family is friends with Tadaomi’s, we grew up together for a little bit when we were young,” she explained.

“Ooohh,” they chorused. “Nice to meet you both!” Mina laughed some more. Okay, that was kinda cute.

“Say, do you guys have any idea what this street cart is doing here?” she wondered, deciding to just go for it. She chuckled. “It’s just surprising to see since sushi from the finest place in Japan is sitting right over there.”

They all laughed. Sugino ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it is weird,” he agreed. “We were the ones who actually asked for it. Our class, I mean.”

Mina furrowed her brows. “Oh, really? Why?”

Fuwa smiled softly. “Our old teacher, he worked with Karasuma-sensei and Bi-” she paused, looking at Nako. “Jelavic-sensei. He, um, really liked...takoyaki.”

“Yeah, he loved octopi a lot,” Mimura chimed in. “One could say he was basically one himself.”

Mina was slightly lost now. “Like a spirit animal?”

Hazama shrugged. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh. Well, that’s cool.”

Hazama gave her a look. “It’s okay, it’s weird. We know.”

Mina wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Um, so tell me more about this teacher! He seems like an interesting guy.”

Sugino laughed. “Yeah, he was definitely interesting. He had a lot of weird habits. He loved junk food, for one. Always blew his teaching money on that.”

“He really liked po-” Mimura paused, glancing at Nako. “Um, magazines. He had a huge collection of them.”

“He used to fry tissues to eat sometimes, because he was so broke,” Fuwa added.

“That’s terrible!” Mina exclaimed.

Hazama waved her off. “Oh, don’t worry, he was okay.”

“He was obsessed with soap dramas,” Mimura continued. “Always used to try and ship us all together to try and emulate them.”

“Oh...that’s a bit odd,” Mina stated politely.

“Yeah, we hated it. We shot him with bb pellets whenever he was being too annoying.”

“Wow, that’s -”

“It’s fine! He encouraged it all the time!”

Fuwa sighed. “Even with all those irritating quirks, he was still the best teacher ever.” The atmosphere had shifted into a more somber, nostalgic one as all the kids looked down slightly.

Sugino nodded. “He always cared about us and looked out for our wellbeing all the time.”

“He was great at explaining concepts, and we even made personalized practice tests for every student,” Mimura added.

Hazama averted her gaze. “He made all of us feel welcome and like we belonged in that class,” she said softly. “Like we were all a piece of one big puzzle, meant to be there from the start.”

“He built a pool for us,” Fuwa sighed again.

Mina blinked. “Wow, he sounds like an amazing person!” She glanced around her. “Is he here? I’d love to meet him!”

The kids stiffened, and she instantly regretted her question. Stupid Mina! Obviously, something happened or they wouldn’t sound so sad! But she’d been distracted by all that they were saying, she’d forgotten.

She took a breath. “I’m sor-”

“No, he’s not here,” Sugino finally spoke. “He...passed away at the end of the year.”

Mina felt her stomach lurch. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Fuwa replied, shaking her head. “It’s okay.”

Mimura laughed slightly. “You know he would’ve freaking loved it if he were here.”

The other two laughed while Hazama smirked. “He’d be a bawling mess. Probably would badger those two constantly until he got kicked out.”

“He’d insist on personally handling Karasuma-sensei’s hair and styling,” Sugino continued. “But he’d go overboard and mess it up.”

“Seventy-percent of the food would already be devoured,” Fuwa added with a grin.

Hazama raised an eyebrow. “Only seventy-percent? That’s being generous,” she commented dryly, amusement in her tone.

“True!” They burst out laughing again. Mina smiled, relieved to see that they moved on from her little mishap and weren’t sad anymore.

“Oh, Ms Mina, it’s your turn,” Sugino pointed out, and she turned around to see the vendor waving at her.

“Oops, sorry!” She smiled at them once more before turning to place her order. Hard to believe that the answer to why this takoyaki cart was here was all thanks to an old teacher with odd quirks who liked octopi...and guided a lot of bright, good kids. She definitely would continue that conversation with those four and hopefully get to meet more of Tadaomi’s students.

[sheanam]

y’all are so nice!! just for kicks then here’s some long pointless typing-up of mass effect AU thoughts i did for my own amusement, because my thoughts always return to mass effect eventually and this year’s N7 day announcements got me real excited

no real plot outside of the ‘edmund has a big fancy spaceship/home/whatever that he hangs out in with all the various other characters he’s collected as friends’ trope that multiple of my for-fun AUs seem to default to, though i suppose it’d mostly take place on illium, with the occasional jaunt into space, and it’d be set during the me2/me3 era and then during the post-reaper war rebuilding phase

walt fully uses they/them pronouns here, they’re from a rich family from a vibrant colony who probably got exposed to eezo in utero during a parental business trip to some other planet, a very talented biotic who got amp implants and sent to the grissom academy for education and full biotic training and everything; they could probably be a very successful adept, except they don’t give a shit about the military or mercenary work or anything big like that, they shoved all that aside to lead as quiet a civilian life as they can manage, working in various restaurants and dreaming of opening one of their own with keeg

chary was born and raised in some podunk colony in the attican traverse and has spent time in various other colonies in that general area for education and work, ending up in one that was probably a little too close to the terminus systems ‘cos it got raided by pirates once and he got fucked up, chary’s doing okay tho ‘cos he’s got a cool scifi cybernetic arm and other implants to make up for it, he’s still a lawyer and specializes in helping sapient beings protect their personal rights, especially ones who tend to get screwed over a lot like quarians

hoshiko’s a cool tough turian of course, she did her time in the turian military and keeps in shape with exercise and weapon practice but now does more desk job-y stuff as a lawyer alongside chary, they’ve got their own little practice and everything, it’s hard going on a planet like illium but they do their best, once they get pulled into edmund’s orbit she probably switches to part-time and becomes head of security for him

keeg’s a huge and beefy but surprisingly friendly krogan, probably from clan jorgal or korten, much to his surprise and the envy of his peers he successfully managed to reproduce and has a kid back on tuchanka, he went off into space to do standard krogan mercenary and bodyguard work so he could send money back to support her and her mother, he got tired of it though and has way more of an interest in cooking, also slightly unusual for a krogan; he eventually winds up working for edmund as both cook and bodyguard, and has a weird but nice friendship with walt where they talk food and restaurant dreams

heck and jamie are from a shitty colony in the attican traverse as well, one with a lot of mining that resulted in a lot of eezo exposure to people there, so they were both born with biotic tendencies; heck’s powers were prominent enough for him to get forced into amp implants and some training by his father, but he’s not particularly powerful (outside of managing a big burst of something if he’s really ticked) and dropped out of the training pretty quickly, prefering to live life as a quiet civilian and wandering to other parts of the galaxy with jamie in tow to find something better

meanwhile jamie had his usual shit luck, in that technically he has biotic powers, but they’re so weak and sporadic that he wasn’t considered a viable recipient for amps, so he just has the rare little moment of weird slight accidental biotic activity, usually at stressed or sufficiently inappropriate moments, and chronic health issues that are the more common result of eezo exposure; he gets by though, he’s handy with electronics and is still a musician, who performs now and then in clubs with musician friends he made along the way

edmund’s still a clone of course; not entirely sure if edmund sr. would’ve been a part of cerberus or not, but ed’s ‘father’ was at the least definitely a very shady and powerful businessman who eked out a small empire on illium, and when he was old and dying he spared no expense in having a high quality clone of himself made to continue it; but as usual ed turned out to be his own person with his own mind and set of morals, so while he took over the business and has to play fast and loose a little to stay afloat on a world like illium and keep potentially dangerous rivals at bay, and while he still has a fondness for luxurious living, he’s doing his best to turn the business around into something more straight-laced and positive with a good future, bringing various new friends into his protective nest to help him do so, but also largely for the company because he’s a social lad who doesn’t like loneliness

[maryellencarter]

excessively detailed headcanon meme from camshaft22 about Wes

What does their bedroom look like? Lots and lots and lots of extremely colorful pillows and blankets. Not a hell of a lot else. And Kettch.

Do they have any daily rituals? Um. Not particularly, I think? He’s spent his entire adult life in the military, which pretty much defines what he has to do when.

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often? Yes. We know that Wes is fairly good at hand-to-hand combat. I figure he also does weight training and cardio. 

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy? Tricky question, as it often is for characters from military canons. But I’m thinking he’d either barge in and work around the other people using the kitchen, or if all the stoves/ovens/etc were busy, find a ration bar or something.

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.) We have pretty much nothing on this in canon. I tend to have his workspace covered in datacards and so forth, because he has that sort of ADHD vibe where your brain needs more than one screen to spread thoughts across. We do know that he has quite a good sense of smell, so he’s probably fairly cleanly in his personal life.

Eating habits and sample daily menu? Again: military. He eats what’s there to be eaten. Probably a fair amount of it, because all that muscle needs a lot of calories. I suspect during the Rebellion he helped supply the cooks by hunting for meat.

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time? Good question. He’s not as hyper as Shalla; there are a couple of points in the books where we see him lying down doing nothing when he has some free time. (Once toward the beginning of Iron Fist iirc, when the three ersatz Zsinjes are discussing plans, Wes is lying on a sofa with a glass of brandy while they talk, and then when Myn goes to find him for the “you can’t look dignified” talk he finds Wes lying down in bed though he has a chair in his quarters.) He’s probably always thinking about random shit and entertaining himself.

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging? I think it really depends on the context. On Adumar, we see him cutting loose and enjoying the fame and adulation, and also capes and swords. In the Wraith books, he’s more disciplined, because his quacklings need him to be, but he definitely enjoys pranks, and also setting up the sort of prank-like training methods he uses. I don’t think he really has any guilty pleasures as such, not that he would consider guilty.

Makeup? I kind of doubt he’s been in a context to encounter it much, other than Face’s stage makeup. In universes where he has, he definitely likes body glitter, and has probably experimented with using contouring techniques on his biceps.

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such? You can’t be a Wraith without neuroses. He sits on them pretty effectively, but he’s a mess around the whole business with Kell’s father, and he’s fairly fatalistic about his own prospects of survival. 

Intellectual pursuits? Good damn question. We know he’s smart, good at numbers, remembers obscure training protocols. We don’t know if he reads philosophy or writes poetry or... what exactly are “intellectual pursuits” anyway?

Favorite book genre? There are a lot of these questions that we don’t especially have answers to. I mean, I know this is a headcanon meme, but a lot of them I also haven’t pondered much. I don’t think we ever see Wes reading for fun, although I speculate he reads NR training manuals in order to figure out ways to mess with his students. I’ll have to ponder on this one.

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general? Wes is pansexual aromantic. He pretty much respects that everybody has different orientations, but finds romance confusing and occasionally distressing, especially when it interferes with his friendships.

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.) Um. Not really? The whole Star Wars bacta thing takes care of a lot of that. I have been messing around with a completely self-indulgent little sleep apnea headcanon, because you could just wear a specialized rebreather to sleep instead of a CPAP machine. I haven’t done anything with that, though.

Biggest and smallest short term goal? At what point in the story? That’s the trouble with a shared universe that spans 44 years at least.

Biggest and smallest long term goal? Ditto.

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress? Ahahahaha yeah. XD Wes is famous, or infamous, for his unique sense of style -- although apparently there are things even he doesn’t want to wear, because Wedge was able to threaten him with letting Hobbie choose his clothes on Adumar. He likes bright colors, capes, shiny things, weaponry, and glitter.

Favorite beverage? I have no headcanon about this. Star Wars foodstuffs are difficult. 

What do they think about before falling asleep at night? Probably ways to cause minor trouble and cheer people up. Or maybe he tells himself stories.

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them? Well, I decided the “Hesken’s fever” that kept him out of the first Death Star battle was space chicken pox, and that he had it as a kid but it didn’t take, because I had chicken pox twice as a kid myself.

Turn-ons? Turn-offs? Sexually, or what? I’m old enough in internet years that I’m never quite sure whether we’re using this in the sense of things that you generally like and don’t like. Also, for as much Wes smut as I’ve written (it is a lot), I don’t really feel that I can produce a list.

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? Paper airplanes, possibly decorated with dicks.

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life? Honestly, Wes is pretty damn organized when it comes to squadron stuff. I feel like this could go either way -- that he’s also super organized about his personal life, or that he’s completely and utterly disorganized outside the military structure.

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all? Wes Janson, Ace Statistician. XD Honestly, he could probably be good at most things, he’s a lot smarter than he acts sometimes.

How do they see themselves 5 years from today? Again, at what point in the story?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout? These are really difficult to answer without specifying a timeframe.

What is their biggest regret? Definitely the Doran Incident.

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy? Best friend is Hobbie. Worst enemy is probably whoever Wedge is currently pointing him at. Wes doesn’t really have a lot of personal enmities.

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?) Go extremely organized and make everything happen that needs to happen. 

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies) Sit on his feelings until they stop bothering him.

Most prized possession? Kettch.

Thoughts on material possessions in general? He really doesn’t need much. I tend to figure he likes comfy cozy cuddly things and fancy capes, and other than that he mostly does with what the Rebellion / New Republic gives him. Hobbie probably invests his money for him (Ralltiir is a banking planet), and Wes doesn’t pay much attention to it. By the time he gets out of the military at last, he probably has a pretty fair pile.

Concept of home and family? The Fab Four are his family. I forget why, but I also decided he has some attachment to Taanab and probably goes back there to live once he musters out. The air and gravity just feel more correct there.

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?) Wes gives the impression that there’s not a thought in his head that doesn’t come out his mouth, but at the same time he has secrets he doesn’t tell anybody until he has to. So, some of each? It’s a balancing act.

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time? Um. I’m not sure he has any. I mean, this is a guy who unabashedly bounces on his bed to make a point.

What makes them feel guilty? Not much. Except the Doran incident and things that remind him of it.

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making? Emotional, to the point that he’s made a principle out of it.

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality? I honestly don’t know what this means. *googles* Well, I have learned a lot about tobacco lobbyists in the 1980s... ;P If I’m understanding what these mean, though, Wes is definitely not a Type A personality, and therefore is by definition a Type B personality.

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained? Being around people. Having fun. Conversation. Cheering other people up.

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither? Probably neither. Sometimes he pretends to have a superiority complex as a form of goofing around, which is much more difficult to do when you actually have one of these complexes. (Compleces? Plurals are complicated.)

How misanthropic are they? Ahaha. Not very. Hobbie does all of that for him. XD

Hobbies? BEHOLD A PUNE *koff* Sorry. I don’t really know that Wes has any particular hobbies, although I suspect he can sew for purposes of making Kettch new outfits. Somebody had to make that gray Hawk-bats flightsuit.

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education? Well, he definitely left school on Taanab by the time he was about eighteen at the oldest. I feel like he was probably kind of self-conscious about being a Rimworlder for a while (all three of the others are Coreworlders), and that might mix into his feelings about having left school early, if he did.

Religion? When I write Wes, he’s kind of an agnostic. It so happens that he never refers to the Force at all in the X-wing books, in any way, so I’ve riffed on that to a view that, while he’s seen Luke do things with the Force and knows it exists, he ascribes it a lot less power than the Jedi do. He sees the Force basically as a nonsentient temporally-amorphous ocean of impressions, which Jedi can use to foresee things like blaster bolts (which is useful), but when Jedi get larger and vaguer impressions about the “will of the Force”, he’s pretty sure they’re projecting. This doesn’t do too much harm when Luke does it, because Luke is a ball of sunshine who just wants what’s best for everyone, but it means that Sith and other fucked-up people have their own really dangerous views on the Force’s will. ...I may have thought this out rather a lot.

Superstitions or views on the occult? He probably has them. I’m very fond of space superstitions but I don’t think I’ve written any myself. Wes seems like the sort of guy who would laugh over ghost stories and then accidentally scare himself in the middle of the night.

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds? Ummm I’m not quite sure what this means. *ponders* Nope, I’ve got nuthin’.

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal? That’s also a hell of a question. Like does it mean who would they fall in love with? Are we talking that Anne of Green Gables shit about only being able to fall in love with a tall dark stranger with a melting voice?

How do they express love? Snuggling. Also annoying you into cheering up.

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like? More or less a mixed martial arts thing. We see him use some wrestling moves and spinning kicks. I suspect Shalla gave him some lessons after she joined the Wraiths, because he seems a lot more confident about his hand-to-hand abilities on Adumar than in the first Wraith Squadron book.

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not? Nope. He knows he’s going to die very soon; he’s a soldier in a war with an extremely high rate of attrition. His goal is to have as much fun as possible before he goes.

[unikornu]

Lucy Feit - headcannons and overall presentation,

Lucy Feit - current occupation: Overboss of Nuka World and Gage’s “business” partner.

Pre-war: court defender - then gang member and personal agent/tool under the firm hand of her past boss and criminal figure - Harrison. 

Appearance:  Fairly small gal (5'3'' - 160cm)  with slim/agile body type at her 27th’s - still quite young. Pale skin but after wandering through wasteland a bit more rosy. Medium length bright blond straight hair, longer in the back, choppy looking since the wastelands best hairdresser is a knife or an old pair of scissors. Tends to tie her hair into two braids as well. Dark amber eyes covered with thick layer of black carbon powder all around to sharpen the softness of her face. Scar under her right eye caused by the knife she carries and got after a hassle with commonwealth raider. Three tattoos - an ace skull on the right upper side of her forehead, white waster skull next to her left eye and a dagger on the left side of her neck. Small thin nose, downward turned lips, her face expression most of the time bored or doubtful but as she starts drinking or having some fun it turns into a grin. She has a burn marks on top of her hands and softer ones at the palms, hidden most of the time under her gloves as she is ashamed of them. 

Character: Pretty calm but inpatient, snarky, sarcastic and careless most of the time. Tends to be impulsive and acts first before thinking of consequences which annoys Gage quite often. She isn’t the brilliant smart mind but is very intelligent due to her pre-war occupation (being smart vs intelligent are two different things). Compulsive liar and charmer, embed in her mind from pre-war but she is aware of that and tries to control it, using it as a way to get around some situations instead as a habit. Not a leader type but when shit needs to be done she will step up. Got stirred into believing she is psychopathic and sometimes acts as. Likes to drink and stir some fun around as alone and with no occupation on job she gets too bored. Does stupid shit and gets in troubles if left alone for too long. Highly depends on Gage’s directives and advices or other leaders if he is gone. Prefers not to talk about feelings and fears openly, would rather go with “just do it” approach. 

Fighting/combat: Mostly melee weapons -  very skilled with her medium sized disciples styled knife. Knows some basic hand to hand fighting/night bar style with a lot of dirty tricks. Sneaky, fast, silent and agile unless she wants some noise and action. High stamina but for short encounters, cheetah style. Uses grenades for bigger trouble, either as a distraction or to cause more mayhem. Will use a pistol only if there is no other way. Occasionally will take the broadsider if shit gets really serious and dangerous as a special card. Surprisingly strong if put under stress and pumped with adrenaline. High pain threshold but easy to break on mental level. Mixes light base gear with some heavier pieces on top to still be on a move but not to get broken like a stick in direct confrontation.

Factions: Joined raiders and took a position of the Overboss as their nature and goals fit her own. Doesn’t want to be a hero nor a part of anything bigger than a pure survival and getting what she wants. She hates the military style of BoS and their “yes sir” soldiering style around. Before becoming Overboss she worked as a mercenary for the Institute along with Kellogg (Father is not her son in my story and she didn’t kill Kellogg). She doesn’t believe in pure goodness and justice and thinks that every faction will get eventually corrupted and egoistic. Later on strikes a deal with Institute in Nuka World to provide data and plant their devices on the top in exchange for technology and supplies for her gangs. Believes it is a good deal as they stay underground while she operates on the top and the Institute doesn’t care if they kill people or do other shit. Just keeps an eye to not replace any of her people with synths. 

Other informations:  

-  Addicted to calmex as she was dozed secretly with it before the bombs, would use it in stressful situations or when her traumas are flashing back, Gage tries to help her stop taking it. Also likes drinking especially at the end of the day.

-When under effects of calmex and in strong doubt or hesitation the Harrison, shady posture of her pre-war boss might show up and talk to her or haunt her, before disappearing shortly. This might be a result of constant high stress and long drug usage causing some kind of brain damage before. This problem gets resolved as her pre-war boss comes back to life later on.

- Because she worked often as an agent in a night luxury club in pre-war she likes everything associated with it, dancing (oh she loves to swing around), neon lights, drinks, fancy stuff etc. Likes to spend free time at Parlor or Cappy Cafe. 

- Doesn’t feel guilt when killing people during raids but would not kill a helpless animal unless attacked. People have choice and if they choose to be stupid its their problem but animals are driven by pure survival so she wouldn’t butcher them unless necessary. If there were dogs in the raided settlement she would order the pack to take care of them and train. 

 - Can drive a car, quite well actually since she was in some risky and dangerous situations before the war. Also constantly tries to get some vehicles working along with Chip Morse and Lizzie but to no success yet. Wants to have better means of transport other than walking and fast way out in case of serious danger.  

- As the time between pre-war and current time happened pretty fast and she was used to have a lot of money and expensive stuff in her apartment later on as she was finishing jobs for her boss. She would always try to “ beautify “ and make herself comfortable even in poor or rough conditions. A little spoiled bitch. Even built herself a dressing table at Fizztop straight from the pre-war night club changing room she worked before. She would collect/steal everything shiny and golden as they travel and store it there. Doesn’t like to sleep outside away from Fizztop or any other safe-house. 

- Has a leech/bloodworm phobia due to the trauma after being tortured before the war by the corrupted court mobs. Sometimes has a feeling of her wounds in throat still being there even if they are long healed. Hates everything associated with worms and highly dislikes slimey food texture.  

- She doesn’t see a problem in having a little hand to hand fight (literally) and getting punched by a man (hell would even join a bar fight at cappy cafe) but heavily dislikes abusive approach during arguing. If Gage or anyone by any chance would act so or grab her by the neck she would panic and smash his head with literally anything that is in her reach just to be released. Result of her boss, Harrison abusive actions towards her to break and confuse her mentally. 

- Depends on Gage company and his experience as alone she is not always sure of rightness of her actions towards the plans for Nuka World and after all she was always under someone's thumb and orders as a sharp tool for the job. And as he is around 8 years older than her (i would give him 35 years tbh) and spent his life becoming a raider on the top of the mountain she takes his approach seriously. Eventually slowly falls in love with him as she notices the care he provides towards her no matter the fuckuperies that happen on the way. And the confidence that man has in his actions and looking like he does..definitely turns her on as time passes. Gage doesn’t believe at start that someone like her would be interested in him more than on just a job level but doesn’t mind later on at all to have a gal like her by his side at the lone evening/nights at Fizztop.

- She is not that bad of a person and refuses to trash talk traders (well maybe except Aaron) and convinces the operators after powering the plant to improve their conditions as it would also bring more caps and scare the “tourists” less. And she would not want their only doctor to be gone or worse, refuse to treat them.

- She considers Lizzie a friend and would visit her often to check on new equipment or further improvements with grenades. Doesn’t mind testing her new inventions along with an extra drink in her lab. 

- She is bad at cooking, especially the post-war one and would most probably choose a food from a box rather than poison Gage with her attempts on making food.

- Almost always wears her black fingerless gloves, might fall asleep in them too sometimes. Gage notices it and learns later on about the burn marks.

- Has a weird, almost romantic like relationship with her pre-war boss Harrison after he makes a sudden come back, surviving the bombs and joining her in  Nuka World.

[madphantom]

My PotP Headcanons

Archie

Has the amazing ability to sleep like a rock under any circumstances

Biggest fear are spiders or some shit

Can sprint ridiculously quickly if he panics

Can't get himself a girlfriend because he's just too childish

Doesn't have a car. According to him because bicycles are dope. But most probably because his driver's license was confiscated

Eats immense amounts of junk food but he doesn't get fat

Faints easily

Grew up in Cuba

Has a swimming pool with a waterslide because why the fuck not

Has deep platonic relationships with everyone

Secretly hates Swan

Life goal is to buy McDonald's

One time somebody broke into his house and he overpowered them with a frying pan

Prankster

Wears Emoji underwear

Spiderman fan

Screams like a little girl during horror movies

Ships Phoenix and Winslow

Should never be entrusted with cooking

Spends his money like a six year old would

Tries to give people life advice but it's always terrible

Would trade his soul for the wellbeing of baby animals

Beef

Biggest Phoenslow shipper ever

Christian

Disguises his Shakespeare volumes as porn because he has a bad name to maintain

Doesn't mess with supernatural forces

Flower person

Gay af

God knows how many drugs he takes

Goes to pride marches

Has three cats

Makes daisy chains

Likes musicals

Not as dumb as he pretends to be

Collects post stamps

Secretly enjoys drama

Sleep?

Surprisingly he's an amazing cook

Too environment friendly to have a car

Vegan, but misses meat real bad

Harold

Barely eats

Drives a purple Bentley

Everyone thinks he's a brutal satanist but he's actually a really sweet Jehovah's Witness who loves to talk about Jesus

Goth

Has a massive crush on Phoenix

Loves cheap science fiction novels

Reads horoscopes

Respects Winslow a lot

Scaredy cat

Scared of groupies

Wishes he'd been born in Victorian times

Always ready for a good nap but nobody lets him

Jeffrey

Atheistic because he lost all his faith in God

Constantly bored to death

Cooking is his hobby

Doesn't give a shit about girls

Done with everybody's shit

Hates junk food

Actually has a normal car!

Life's dream is becoming a Physics prof

Literally just joined the band because the others begged him to

Out of everyone at the Paradise he sleeps the most

Regrets his life decisions

Secretly has a crush on Phoenix

The mom friend

The most reasonable Fruit

The only thing he cares about are his potted plants

Writes books about gardening under an alias but nobody buys them

Philbin

Has a private limousine

Doesn't show it but he loves his boys

Everyone's adoptive dad

Doesn't care about God

Hates his job but loves yelling at people

Hates junk food but he doesn't have the time to eat anything else

Loathes everyone except the Fruits, Beef and Swan

Never had a girlfriend

Sleeps like an hour per week

Smokes like a chimney

Spent six years in prison

Wears ugly clothes because he's too stressed to buy something half decent

Phoenix

Collects fancy hats

Done with everyone's shit

Drives some immense military truck

Going through a late but mighty Punk phase

Good at cooking but terrible at remembering to turn off the stove once she's done

Has had loads of boyfriends

Likes rainy days because they're perfect for reading

Omnitheistic

Probably knows more about free love than all of the Beatles combined

Wears a shit ton of friendship armbands from people she can't even remember

Swan

Due to the fact that he sold his soul to Satan we can safely assume that he's not the typical Catholic Christian

He either eats the best and most glamourous menu or nothing. There is no inbetween

Sleeps way too little to be alive

If anyone notices his evil deeds he plays it off as a joke

Likes KFC

Stopped counting his girlfriends

Winslow

Believes in a God, but he's not sure in which one

Clumsy as fuck

Could break through a brick wall if he wanted to

Goth but can't afford Goth clothes

Just a total nerd

Perfectionist

So chaotic he forgets to eat sometimes

Forgot his own age

The fuck is a car?

What is sleep?

Would love to have a pet, but he's well aware he's way too irresponsible for that, so he has a cactus. He calls it Sid.

[ferritin4]

Titans Together part 2 (Gen Jon Kent/Damian Wayne)

A follow-up to This First Installment of my mildly absurd headcanon about aged-up Damian Wayne and Jon Kent, based off of the recent, and now ongoing, runs of Tomasi’s Super Sons. The first post got more interest than I expected -- the amount I expected was “none” honestly -- so I’m putting this up as well for you few who thought it was fun. It is fun. It’s a fun ship. This is set on the same visit, the next day.

—

“I have a meeting with my advisor,” Damian said, stepping over Jon to get to his desk. Jon pulled his blankets back onto the air mattress and rubbed his eyes.

“Cool,” Jon said. “Is the cafeteria open on Saturday mornings?”

—

The cafeteria was open.

Damian had demanded he go to some restaurant in town where Damian knew someone, but that didn’t matter. Jon hadn’t even intended to stay the night, but if he was here, he was here, and he wasn’t Damian. He could eat at a normal cafeteria like a normal person.

It was pretty sparse still, because Damian got up at like four thirty in the morning every day — Damian slept between zero and four hours a night most days, which still freaked Jon out a little bit, but if he was going to have a heart attack or a seizure or something he probably would have had it by now — so Jon was showered and dressed in his jeans and boots and one of Damian’s plain white t-shirts by five thirty. Damian didn’t just wear t-shirts around anymore, of course, and this was supposed to go under a dress shirt, but Jon wasn’t wearing one of Damian’s dress shirts. No way.

It was pretty warm for September, but he still needed something between a t-shirt and his jacket. Damian’s dorm or whatever was like, a whole studio apartment, with a closet that Jon probably could have slept in instead of next to the desk where Damian kicked him in the side by accident every time he wanted to get a new pen or something.

Damian probably would’ve kicked him in the side by accident even if Jon had slept in the closet. Jon had spent more than enough time in the Titans headquarters. He knew how Damian operated.

Damian had a couple of sweaters that didn’t look too fancy, for Damian. Jon had pulled a dark red one over his head and gotten his wallet and headed out.

The breakfast in the dining hall was eggs and bacon and stuff. Jon got like six pancakes at the pancake station; he was hungry.

“Hi,” he told the person at the cash register. “I gotta pay with money, like. I’m not a student. If that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” the cashier said, and then the person behind Jon said, “I — are you — um, Kent?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jon said to Ms. Braxton, who looked even smaller standing up. Her hair was in a very ineffective headband and she was wearing a hoodie, pajama pants, and house slippers.

“Wow,” she said.

Okay?

“Good morning,” Jon said.

“I can get your food,” she said suddenly, apparently recovering from whatever she’d been thinking, and shoved forward to give the cashier her ID card.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Jon said. “I can pay for my breakfast, Miss, uh, Braxton. For real,” he added when she blinked up at him.

“You remember my name?” she said. “And, no, I got it. It’s not even real money. It’s part of my tuition.”

Isn’t your tuition paid for with money? Jon thought, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know Damian. It wasn’t like he didn’t know a whole lot of people who ran billion-dollar companies and bought newspapers and banks and thought things like it’s not real money, if they even thought about it at all.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Jon said, following her to the condiments station. “Why wouldn’t I remember your name?”

“Because you were busy getting grilled by the devil himself?” she said. “I think I go into, like, a fugue state most of the time. Like my brain is trying to die while my body’s still alive.” She pumped a giant pool of ketchup onto her plate.

“Oh, yeah,” Jon said. He shrugged as well as he could with a tray in his hands. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I guess I don’t know if it ever did? But I get it.”

“Other profs don’t bother me,” she said, steering them toward a table. “I’m not, like, a wimp, but he’s like — he’ll fail you as soon as he’ll look at you, did you know that? And he’s, like, I don’t know. He’s so mean. You have no idea.”

“He can be pretty mean,” Jon conceded, tucking into his bacon. He wasn’t going to sit here and try to convince someone that Damian Wayne wasn’t an asshole.

“So,” she said.

“Mgnh?” Jon said. He swallowed. “Yeah? Oh, I didn’t really introduce myself.” He wiped his hand off on his napkin. “I’m Jon.”

“I’m Hafsah,” she said with a weird look on her face. “Mitchell said your name was Jon.”

“Mitchell?” Jon said. He took a sip of his coffee. It tasted okay, but it smelled kind of funny. Whatever, it only cost a dollar.

“Derek Mitchell? He was sitting next to you?” she said, and Jon bit his tongue so he didn’t say, oh, sure, Sweater Vest.

“Yes,” Jon said instead. “He didn’t tell me his name.”

“We don’t talk a lot in that class,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Usually. You did.”

Jon put half a pancake into his mouth and chewed it while he tried to figure out what she was getting at, but it didn’t really help.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said finally. He hadn’t. He had mostly planned to ask Damian about it after class, if he remembered or if Damian hadn’t explained it already by then.

“Do you work with him?” she said, out of nowhere. Jon frowned.

“No?” he said. “He works here?” It was kind of a lie, but like, he didn’t think she was acting weird and confused because she’d figured out the whole Teen Titans thing.

“Liam Kendry, who is a tool and stalks all his professors online like a creep,” she said, “says that he works for some defense contractor sometimes. And that he works for his dad’s company.”

“Well, okay, yeah, but he’s been doing that since he was like si— sssoo long ago,” Jon said. Damian would have had his ass for that. “He works here,” Jon added in an effort to distract her from the world’s lamest half-lie. “He goes to school here. And that’s not how I know him. I’m just here to hang out with him.”

“What?” she said. “You’re here to what?”

“Hang out?” Jon said. She stared at him, eyes nearly as big as Sweater Vest’s — Derek Mitchell’s — had been.

“Is that some kind of weird slang for like, a start-up tech company thing? Or, like, some kind of military exercise?” she asked.

“No,” Jon said a little more sharply than was polite, because he was getting tired of this. “He’s my best friend. We grew up together. We hang out! We watch movies! I made him go mudding on the farm last spring, he hated it,” he added, smiling.

Hafsah’s mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything. It stayed open.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

A small piece of potato fell out of her mouth and landed on the table between her plate and her lap.

“Oh my god, that was disgusting, I’m so sorry,” she said, snapping back to life and frantically attacking it with her napkin. “Okay gross, gross, sorry. Ew.”

“It’s okay,” Jon laughed. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” she said. “I don’t know. You seem so nice.”

That was a real non sequitur, but she seemed awfully sincere.

“Thank you,” Jon said, trying not blush. “I, uh. I try to be.”

“Wayne doesn’t,” she said decisively, and Jon didn’t even try to fight his smile.

“No,” he said, “no, he really doesn’t.” He forked the last of his pancakes into his mouth and took a drink of coffee. Something in his coffee still tasted a little off, or smelled weird. It was cafeteria coffee, so he didn’t want to be mean, but it was definitely getting worse.

“Did you really hug him at the end of class?” she asked, her eyes a little wild. Jon grinned.

“He hates that too,” he said. “But he had it com—”

That wasn’t his coffee. Shit.

“I gotta go,” he said, lurching out of his seat. “I’m sorry, I just — remembered something I forgot to do.”

“You what?” she said, but he was already gone, bolting out the doors and onto the quad.

Shit, shit, shit, where was it coming from? Where was his map? Something was burning, something chemical and strange, and Jon didn’t know where anything was, where were the science buildings — he punched CALL on his phone and started running toward the smell. Thank God it was still early. Nobody was out, nobody was there to see him and say, hey, man, are you —

“I am in a meeting,” Damian’s voice said, sharp and annoyed. “Which I know I told you.”

“Where are the labs, the science, like, the lab buildings?” Jon cut in. “Dami, something’s, I don’t know where, something’s on fire and it smells like nitrogen, or metal.”

“Four hundred yards southwest of Waterstone,” Damian said. “This meeting is over,” he said, not to Jon, “I will reschedule at my —” and Jon hung up.

He rounded in the corner, past Waterstone Hall, up a flight of weirdly broad stairs. There were two buildings, pretty much identical, looming up, and where was it — oh. Oh no, he could see the smoke in the windows of the third floor.

Nobody was coming. There was nobody anywhere, no sirens. Smoke was starting to trickle out one of the windows, but no one was helping.

Well, Jon thought as a dark shape landed on the roof. Not no one. Not anymore.

Nobody was out here, though, which meant Jon could fly up and kick in the emergency door on the third floor fire escape without anyone calling the cops or a TV station.

Damian ducked in through the break room window as Jon came down the hall, and oh, whoa. Shit had been the right word. Yikes.

Smoke was pouring out the open door to the lab at the end of the hallway, acrid and sour and foul. Jon’s eyes were burning; his mouth felt like he’d been chewing on pennies.

“Fuck,” Damian said, covering his mouth. “Even I could smell this from the dining hall.”

“Why isn’t the fire alarm going off?” Jon said. “This should be,” he stopped.

“What?” Damian said. He punched the plastic box of the fire alarm until it cracked, then ripped it off the wall. Wires fell out in a tangle. “There's a short in the system. Jon?”

“Somebody is in there,” Jon said in horror.

He could hear their heartbeat.

The fire alarm surged to life, suddenly screaming.

“Okay,” Jon said. “Okay.” He could barely see the door through the smoke, but they were in there and they were alive, and he could find them if he listened hard enough.

“The local fire department’s response time to this location is an average of eight minutes,” Damian said. Jon turned to look at him. “So stop just standing there, Kent.”

Jon smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The lab was a blinding, suffocating wall of smoke, and Jon shut his eyes against the sting and listened.

They were… to his left. Somewhere to his left. He tripped over something, a chair or a stool, but it wasn’t burning. Some of the furniture was on fire, but most of the flames were coming from a fume hood on the far side of the room, nowhere near him, near him or near them.

They were right under him before he was sure of it, but they were breathing. A woman, in jeans and a puffy vest that had half melted in the heat of the room. She was breathing, she wasn’t moving but she was breathing —

Something made a very ominous cracking noise behind him.

He felt it before it happened: a wet splash of liquid on the floor as a bench collapsed and a pipe burst, and then a thunderous shudder of bottles and jars tumbling and rolling toward the side of the room that was mostly flame, and then that awful, familiar inrush of air before an explosion.

He dropped to cover her just in time.

The windows blew out; one of the lab's doors ripped off and went crashing out into the hallway. A piece of a desk hit Jon’s back, hard, and the ceiling on the far side of the room let out a miserable, terrible groan and started to sag.

Jon grabbed her and ran.

Damian wasn’t in the hallway, and Jon spared a terrified thought that maybe the lab's door had hit him, and he was — no, of course not; he was in the break room, halfway down the hall.

“Put her here,” Damian told him. “Is she breathing?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “Hang on, hang on, I gotta,” he stripped the melted vest off her and threw it on the floor. Damian’s fingers were at her neck. He had a bottle of water from somewhere, and he was opening it as she began to cough.

“Oh, whew,” Jon said. “Wow.”

Damian looked over at him, his eyes sharp chips of green. Jon heard the heavy footsteps of the firefighters start up the stairs on the ground floor.

Damian’s gaze flickered down to Jon’s chest, then back up.

“Oh,” Jon said, looking down. Damian’s sweater was hanging off him in burnt strips, and the whole left shoulder of his t-shirt was missing. His jeans and shoes were okay — he’d kind of laid down next to her and curled up — but there was no way he looked like he should have all his limbs.

“I, uh, I think I need to leave,” Jon said.

“We need to leave,” Damian agreed. “The easiest roof access is just to the east of the window.”

“No, I need to leave,” Jon said. “You need to stay here and explain the fire alarm, and the getting her out of the lab and stuff.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Nobody asks why they didn’t die in a fire,” he said.

“Somebody was obviously here,” Jon said.

“And when they’re gone, no one will—”

“She didn’t crawl out here and onto a table and not —”

“People do all kinds of things in critical, life-threatening situations,” Damian snapped.

“Not like this,” Jon stalled.

“Jon,” Damian said suspiciously.

“In here!” Jon yelled as the firefighters burst through the hallway doors, and then he lunged for the window.

He caught Damian’s eyes as he scrambled up to the roof, and boy, was he doubly glad he was impervious to fire today.

[girlbookwrm]

Bah! Bah! Bah da-dah. Badabadabadadah bah dah dah! (<-- this is the iron man song)

THE MIGHTY ENDGAME REWATCH CONTINUES: PART THREE

(parts one and two are HERE)

The Gal Pal has joined us, so tonight we are three (@goteamwin is the Roommate and @pegasuschick is the Gal Pal.) This time we ALL pregamed with booze and cookies. 

Further note: It Has Been Years and I Still Miss The Old Marvel Logo

The Gal Pal: For a second I thought this was Lord of the Rings

THIS WAS A GAMBLE. I have to remind myself of this every time I watch this movie because this was a hhUUUUUGE gamble starring a recovering addict and directed by a nobody using technology that had been tested in Transformers, a franchise known for it’s kwality filmmaking (not u bumblebee i’m sure you’re g r e a t)

(the roommate would like it noted that they probably stipulated in RDJ’s contract that he wouldn’t be fully paid until he finished the movie because he’d flaked out on previous filming commitments for. you know. getting arrested and going to jail.)

This is a solid opening. A Super Solid Opening, in fact. Quality flashback. Actually TFA, take note. This is how you do a flashback, TFA

WELL THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

comedy moment with the stark missile here. 

Howard Stark Mark I. (of three. Never forget. that there are three howard starks)

Oh No it’s Wrong Rhodes. Rhong Wrodes? just Wrodes?

Obadiah Stane? Really?? who thought he was a good guy??? although I love how easily he does this “getting on the stand to accept an award for Tony” thing. like he’s done it a thousand times before. because of course he has.

GOD THEY'RE ALL SO YOUNG

no da Vinci his a fair comparison, actually, given that Da Vinci apparently designed loads and loads of Very Deadly Things. 

At this juncture, the Gal Points out:

Not to be super gay here, but I would observe that the later Iron Man movies get hotter lady extras. Just a note.

she is not wrong. 

You're better than this journalist lady.

actually wait is she only sleeping with tony for the purpose of snooping?

SHIT SHE TOTALLY IS.

on the one hand DAMN PEPPER I HOPE CHRISTINE GETS MEDICAL ATTENTION FOR THAT BURN but on the other hand BOO GIRL ON GIRL CRIME.

Tony your music is bad

why isn’t it the iron man song

what band is it that does the iron man song

black sabbath, said the Gal Pal and The Roommate in unison.

tony i thought you weren’t a painter how do you even know who pollack is

The perpetual question with this movie: Was the script That Good or is RDJ Just That Good?

Will We Ever Truly Know

WRONG RHODES HAS A POTATO FACE RIGHT RHODES HAS A GREMLIN FACE. YOU NEED CORRECT GREMLIN POTATO FACE PAIRING.

Things that Date This Movie:

Tony’s suits (the fabric ones)

The phones (ohhhhhhhhhh my god flip phones oh my gooooooooddddd)

the fact that the hero is a new york billionaire with his name on the side of a building and people actually like him

Wait is Obie fucking someone? NO DON'T MAKE ME THINK THAT

I hate this part NOSE NO THANK U. GROSS. GROSS. NO I DON’T LIKE IT. NO. i came here for an ACTION MOVIE not a BODY HORROR MOVIE HELP PLS

Yinsen is v well dressed. like. Yinsen is SO dapper wtf Tony looks like a bum by comparison. And his chemistry with Tony is Un. Paralleled (except by pepper.) He fucking NAILS THIS ROLE. Ho Yinsen, International treasure

sub note YINSEN’S FIRST NAME IS HO. YOU ARE ALL VERY WELCOME.

sub sub note: The Roommate spent like fifteen minutes calling him Jensen. This Seems Racist. She points out that I am being racist for thinking that. She may be right. 

the ten rings IT IS LOTR

“I don't watch Iron Man that often, it's always a surprise when I enjoy it” - The Roommate

I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T A PAINTER TONY. THOSE ARE VERY GOOD DOODLES FOR SOMEONE WITH NO ARTISTIC INCLINATIONS.

I love/hate that it’s like: Oh no this bad guy speaks English NOW WE'RE IN TROUBLE.

THAT. SEEMS. RACIST.

“Yes I would like a delivery date” says the roommate, someone very accustomed to working with clients that do not provide a coherent delivery date/schedule.

every time i see this scene i am reminded of that interview where Cevans is like: tthHHAT’S RDJ?? and then he licks his lips like the thirsty little bitch he may or may not be.

army recruitment - avengers - dick swinging contest - dumpster fire <-- this is literally the note i made for myself, i don’t know exactly how we got onto this particular sidetrack but look here’s the story:

the pentagon subsidized the early marvel movies, but then they stopped. that was a fun fact that I knew

the gal pal looked it up and it is Very Real. She was explaining to us that they STOPPED subsidizing marvel movies after the avengers because SHIELD. ‘Does the army answer to SHIELD or does SHIELD answer to the army?’

Me: SO ARE YOU TELLING ME. THAT THE ARMY. A REAL LIFE ORGANIZATION. STOPPED FUNDING MARVEL MOVIES. BECAUSE THEY GOT INTO A DICK MEASURING CONTEST WITH SHIELD AND MIGHT HAVE LOST????

yes

the answer to that question is yes

the military industrial complex is a dumpster fire.

32 minute mark and Tony has more time with yinsen than anyone else

I cannot believe it took them them THIS LONG TO FIGURE OUT SOMETHING WAS WRONG. No one thought to question that glowing thing in tony’s chest, just like: Nah that seems right. That’s part of the missile building process, right? They're working. this seems fine

It's still a horror movie but now Tony is the monster 

he was always the monster

YINSEN WE HARDLY KNEW YE

Tony Tedward Stark you're literally the only person in the world who didn't know Yinsen’s family was dead. “I’ll see them when I leave here?” THEY’RE DEAD TONY. THEY’VE ALWAYS BEEN DEAD.

also: YINSEN IS AN INTERNATIONAL TREASURE

Tony, at the end of this fight scene, is A) deaf from all the bullets pinging off his suit. B) very badly burned, and C) has broken every bone in his body.

All Jameses in the MCU come with an innate Bullshit Detection Sensor. “Steve’s in trouble” “What’s that explosion? probably Tony.” JAMES POWERS ACTIVATE.

40 minutes in and this is the first time I buy Wrodes as a pal. Maybe

Tony Stark: BRING ME BURGERS. YINSEN TOLD ME NOT TO WASTE MY LIFE

oh hey phil is here!

Tony you have PTSD ---- aaaand you also have a burger stashed in your sling? that’s the best thing. THAT’S THE BEST THING.

UGH GOD OBIE’S ON A SEGWAY GROSSSSS (as if we didn’t already know that he was evil just from his NAME)

The Gal Pal, re Tony vs his PTSD: of course he builds himself a suit of armor. we're lucky he didn't end up in a gimp suit.

me, internally: bold of you to assume he doesn’t.

I refuse to even imagine this movie with Tom Cruise it would be so Wrong. (For those who don’t know, the studio really wanted Tom Cruise  to play Tony, Jon Favreau really went to bat for RDJ against the studio, you know. on account of the whole. addiction getting arrested thing.)

TONY THIS IS A LABORATORY, WE WEAR OUR SHOES AND BUTTON OUR SHIRTS.

Mad money really dates this too. Add that to the list of things that date this.

Tony: Pepper you’ve got small hands, right? get down here.

 Now is the perfect time to remind you all that comics tony has canonically been pegged by Gamora.

You Are Welcome

A) pepper is great. B) Tony is definitely not really going into cardiac arrest. C) I’m remembering that they were my first Marvel OTP and I love them.

Re: Rhodey and the whole “Manned vs unmanned flight” and Tony coming in like “What about just the pilot with no plane” or whatever QUICK QUESTION ASKING FOR A FRIEND WHEN DOES THE FALCON PROGRAM HAPPEN

RDJ and his big sad brown cow eyes. 

The Roommate: I know I wasn’t into it at the time, because I was a youth and he’s like forty and I was like “No, he is Not For Me.”

Me: PAST YOU WAS A MORON.

The Roommate: Yeah i know that NOW.

Tony built his own keyboard that's so extra

Yikes generic ten rings bad guy you should put a bandage on that

ROBOT ABUSE, but also, can we talk about how much I love DUM-E, U, and also this entire sequence?

U is getting real fancy with the camera zooms

At this point we got into a discussion of whether the arc reactor gives Tony powers:

Me: Please. He’s a glorified normie. He’s the Batman of the Marvel Universe.

The Roommate: Yeah! He’s the Batman of marvel with out the...

Me: The what exactly? 

The Roommate: The dead... no his parents are... the car-- no he’s got lots of fancy-- The pearls. He’s the Batman of Marvel without the pearls.

now we have to wait until Civil War to see if Maria Stark is wearing pearls when she dies.

PIZZA. Obie is like the stepdad with that pizza. “I’m taking the pizza back. Nah go on take a slice.” G R O S S

Paul Bettany! You're better as a disembodied voice. 

The Roommate: I do not care for your purple robot form. I know Wanda does but--

Me: Listen. We’ve all made mistakes and bought an unreasonably large purple dildo

The Gal Pal: And we’ve all gotten attached to non-human characters. 

The Roommate: Like the fox from Robin Hood!

The Gal Pal: Exactly. And hey, maybe he just keeps going, you know? like the energizer Bunny.

Me, Upset: NONONONONONONO

The Roommate: now hang on a minute that’s interesting.

Tony, i feel like you didn't think though. But seriously, what is this scene? Why is there a Ferris wheel? Are those the director's kids?

YOU’RE DOING GREAT, DUM-E.

Tony, quick question, did you cut holes in all your tee-shirts? Why? There’s no need for it? It’s Literally? Just for the dramatic effect? Tony?? WHy??? ARe YoU LIke THiS????

they are literally titty windows

these shirts are probably very expensive

sToP

oooo the bad guy (side note, put on a bandaid my guy. get some neosporin or something) has the iron man 1.0 suit and waaaIT A SECOND ARE THERE BULLET HOLES IN THE CROTCH ARMOR??? DID THEY SHOOT TONY IN THE CROTCH?

First of all, Jarvis is a treasure, I’m sad they ever got rid of him, second of all I love that Tony can just show up unannounced at a Very Important Party and no one questions it, third of all:

Poooterrrrrr

Oh hey Phil is here!!

Oh Pep. You are so on top of things, you basically run SI, you know your fear about the deoderant is just paranoia. You applied twice and you have an extra one in your purse and you’re wearing perfume. You smell like roses and victory.

O! T! P!

Christine, why do you have these photos where have you been keeping them why don’t you just pull them up on your phoneOHHHH RIGHT THIS IS THE PAST THERE ARE NO SMART PHONES YET FFGHSSJJSJSDKDKD I FEEL OLD.

Tony is standing on a higher step than Obie for this. The Smolest Avenger.

This is the first full iron Man moment but all I can think is:

Toe socks Tony? really?

~Cool guys don't look at explosions~

SOMEONE REALLY NEEDS TO TELL MARVEL THAT MORE VILLAINS =/= BETTER VILLAINS.

Rhodes sees the boom on the screen and is like but… Tony is here. in the US. I know he's here. I'm 99% sure. 98%. (explosion #2) I’m 95% sure. (by explosion #5) I’m 42% sure that Tony is in the US.

Definitely the worse thing that Pepper saw was him cutting titty windows in his tee shirts

MARVEL! MORE VILLAINS ARE NOT BETTER VILLAINS!!

beeteedubs We All Hate the way Obie says “data” and “manufacturing.” Dah-tuh. Man-uh-fact-ering. U G H.

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND PEPPER I HAVE A NEW JOB NOW AND IT'S SAAAAVING THE PLANET

every movie ever: Is this hacking? Is this how hacking works?

Obie’s frankenstein vein and the way he slllluuuuurrrrps his whiskey. GROSS.

Oh Hey Phil Is Here!!!

What other applications?

WAIT WHAT OTHER APPLICATIONS ARE THERE FOR SHORT TERM PARALYSIS?

NO DON’T TELL ME I DON’T WANT TO KNOW

Hhhhhhow does Obie already have a specially designed arc reactor extractor?

TONY WHY DON’T YOU GET ON THE SCOOTER INSTEAD OF SHOVING IT AWAY? WOULDN’T YOU GO FASTER?

DUM-E IS A TREASURE

Re Pepper:

The Roommate: Pepper’s superpower is calling the right authorities and making sure the right people get arrested.

Me: so what I’m hearing is that Pepper’s superpower is being a responsible adult???

This Seems Accurate.

“Anything else I can do?” says Terrence Howard. “yeah, you can turn into don cheedle” say we all.

Where's the water in this creepy underground lair. Whyyyyyy are there water light effects? WHERE? IS? THE WATER???

OMG look at that cgi wowwwww he’s just coming up through the concrete and it is Definitely CGI.

dear obadiah stane: YOU DO NOT FIRE PEPPER POTS SHE IS ESSENTIAL. IF YOU FIRE PEPPER POTTS YOUR COMPANY COLLAPSES LITERALLY THE NEXT DAY.

Hey Obie. Did you put the Batman voice modulator in yourself orrrr... 

Holy Cow Digital Hand is Very Digital.

HANG ON ISN'T THIS EXACTLY WHAT ANT MAN DOES TO TONY IN CIVIL WAR???

Blow the reactor, he says. JUST DO IT, he says.

The Gal Pal: Shhhh you can hear Howard Stark rolling over in his grave

oh hey Zuul is coming

OH HEY PHIL IS HERE!!!!

The roommate: THAT'S NOT TRUE SMALL AIRCRAFT ARE VERY SAFE

WAIT WAS CAPTAIN MARVEL PHIL’S FIRST RODEO? *need to see Captain Marvel Intensifies*

“Girlfriend who worries about me” Tony says. It's Rhodes. Right? I mean. He already has a girlfriend who worries about him. It’s Colonel Rhodes. 

tony is so bad at lying

which is cute and all but FORREALS do you remember seeing this movie for the first time? whether you like Iron Man or not, whether you like MARVEL or not, this is fucking cinematic history happening here. this is the first franchise of its kind, it opened the door for so many others and it is so weird to remember that.

BAH! BAH! BAH DA-DUH. BADABADABADADAH! BAH DAH DAH!!

we have spent literally the entire movie waiting for this song to play

wow Jarvis u ok

THERE HE IS. Lookit him. with his eyepatch. he’s Seen Things. he’s Done Stuff. him and phil. geeze.

Me: I really wish I had just seen Captain Marvel 

The Gal Pal: I feel like that every morning

i mean i don’t want to harp on this given that we’ve already moved on from the incorrect hulk but WHY WOULD TONY STARK BE RECRUITING ROSS?????

[countessofbiscuit]

Dollface

For @celebrate-the-clone-wars’ Writing Wednesday Prompt “Your Reputation Precedes You”  Rating: M Words: 2414 Inspired by The Adventures of Doll Rex.

(If there isn’t a 69′s in a universe with a 79′s, I’m calling bs) 

Having spent themselves silly, the boys in blue who’d brought the house down were long gone, and 69’s grew dull again. The exhibitionism continued, sure, the dancing was always pleasing in a kind of mindless way, and when things got really boring, the massage droid in the break room had a lekku setting that induced comas—it was almost enough to make a showgirl consider marriage.

But the circus this wasn’t. There used to be wardrobe brawls and stampeding reeks and everything. The only adrenaline high to be had here was shaking up assholes who tried to stiff her colleagues until their credits and their shame fell out. A civilian crime, and a dwindling one. The soldiers never did that. Ursula fleeced them for admittance—the bigot—then got mad when the staff stretched the poor sods’ pocket change by giving them free drinks because they were polite and very, very pretty. Oh they made noise. Lots of it. But they viciously policed their own and didn’t put their hands where they shouldn’t. And not just because they thought they might get charged.

They were … “shiny.” And two meters of broad, blood-red Twi might scare the shit out of anybody whose first experience with boobs was two hours ago and three levels up, when they got squished against someone on the dance floor or got flashed by a waitress.

Hence the boredom of a somewhat self-conscious girl who doesn’t like working a room for tips.

“Lala, that’s for you,” chirps Diohn when Laa’let returns from the freshers.

She stops fidgeting with her bra and rebuilding circuses in the sky and glances at the Zabrak bartender. Diohn points at the counter, then returns to digging through the mixer chiller.

A doll is sitting on the end of the bar. 

It’s propped up around a bright red cocktail, looking stupidly drunk, resting its chin on the rim of a glass about as wide as its comical face. Laa’let narrows her eyes at the arrangement. A clone. She recognizes the little flared skirt and shoulder decoration—and the golden top of one of those boys in blue. She scans the club for any that fit the description, but it’s just a throbbing sea of maroon sweats and crumpled greys, with a shrinking handful of businessmen pressed against the edges of the room; the only troopers in plates are the wrong color, and most of them are sitting along the rack, where they’ve figured out that two shoulder wings promise some seriously advanced recon—a much more exciting and personal show than anything happening at the bar.

“Who?” asks Laa’let.

“Didn’t see,” Diohn shrugs from inside the chiller, “they just left credits. And a note.”

Laa’let slides up towards the drink, ignoring the vulgar garnish—a cherry shoved in between a split taffy stem. The script is very regular, but the napkin is torn on the angles, like they couldn’t get the pressure right:

For the Ruby Rancor ♥

She grates the sharp tips of her teeth together. “You said you wouldn’t make it a drink.”

“I didn’t! I swear!” Diohn takes her own dulled molars to the cap of a bottle and spits it in the trash. “But you should stop fighting it. It’s definitely caught on.”

“Then what’s with this,” Laa’let says. It’s not just the garnish that’s offensive. Diohn’s clearly chosen her most bulbous glass, and she must have some campari, premixed to the perfect shade, chilling in a jug somewhere.

“That’s just me doing my fucking job. Now you should do yours.”

Diohn won’t share her tips forever, but Laa’let has her limits. Maybe too many of them for this career. “It’s not my job to talk to dolls.”

“Talking to cute faces with nothing but stuffing between their ears? I’d say that’s definitely in your contract. Roll out some carnival tricks.”

Laa’let’s lekku stiffen. “Circus. And I was a fucking acrobat.”

“Whatever. There’s still an audience—and maybe they’ll tip.”

It’s not an audience if you didn’t invite it, she refrains from saying, it’s an embarrassment. Too much like real life. With a frown, Laa’let swipes the drink, and the doll flops face down onto the chromium counter. Pathetic.

“Hand me that,” she says, snapping her fingers at an open bubblezap bottle.

Diohn giggles and swiggs the dregs. “Awww, someone’s had one too many!”

Laa’let maneuvers the doll into a seated position against the bottle, mindful of the oversized head. Its eyes are fixed off to the side, as if deliberately avoiding her boobs. “I need to get on his level. Is this a double?” she asks, stirring the drink once with the garnish.

One of Diohn’s liberal shots cascades over her peach fingers as she preps a line of Fuzzy Yodas—frothy, green, and strong enough to make you talk backwards. “You’ll have a nice time. I promise.”

Laa’let pulls out one of the lethris barstools and drops onto it. She hates sitting on these chairs. They’re sticky and undersized, like everything else here—even the ceiling is too low to accommodate her best tricks on stage. It’s maddening to be reduced to pantomime, the feeling of holding herself by halves, but Diohn’s right. She’s still a consummate performer, she’s still on the clock, and she’s still fucking broke.

“So,” Laa’let begins, taking a long sip that melts her sinuses and makes her damn nipples hard, “I’m new to this job and don’t have a lot of conversation up my sleeve, so do you want tragic backstory or tragic backstory?”

The little soldier makes big eyes at the turquoise Togruta on stage, but doesn’t indicate a preference.

“Tragic backstory it is. You might think it all started when my parents sold me to some charlatan in a travelling circus. Or when my growth spurt went on two years too long and I couldn’t get health insurance—did you know organs over a meter long are considered a pre-existing condition?”

She’s got her lekku draped over her shoulders and she shakes the tip of one in the little soldier’s face.

“Speciesist, I know. Free Porn Taa is laughably small in every department, so it’s not a priority for him. And the Togs aren’t represented in the Senate—not that healthcare is a priority there either.”

“Ugh, Lala,” groans Diohn, loudly dumping an armful of bottles into the bin as she passes by. “Politics? At my bar? No wonder he’s bored.”

Laa’let makes a rude gesture at Diohn’s back. “Anyway,” she says to the disinterested doll, “things really didn’t go downhill for me until the fucking Zillo Beast.”

The rack around Tosha’s stage erupts in applause when she finishes her routine. Another charming clone thing. It’d never occurred to them not to clap.

“Did I see it? You bet your plastic ass I did. Three of its gnarly legs came crashing through the roof during my act.”

Just for something to do, Laa’let takes the garnish from her drink and starts to trace a wet rendering of the monster that ruined her life on the counter.

“Squashed half the audience. I fell into the netting, along with all the buttresses, and was buried with broken ribs for three damn days. And this is where having no health insurance, no transferable skills, and no tolerance for animal abuse lands you,” she says, gesturing at the room, humid and a hazy red in the house lights, like an oversized womb.

Laa’let follows the little soldier’s gaze again. Tosha’s now working the rack for tolls. She’s got her knees on either side of one trooper’s ears, gripping him by his red shoulder wings as he gently tucks some funny money into her panties, ruffled and pink like cotton candy.

“Look, I know she’s topless and I’m not, but you could at least pretend to pay attention.”

A trooper in purple plates, very much paying attention, suddenly materalizes next to the doll. Laa’let takes in his double wings and his skirt—has she been performing for a fancy ARC?—and then moves onto his hair. It’s shaved into a landing strip across his skull and down his chin, and she can’t help wonder if the landscaping extends below the belt, too.

“There you are, Rex!” he declares, smiling broadly like he’d be very happy to enlighten her. “Who’s your pretty friend?” He gives a wave with one of the doll’s stubby arms.

This part always makes Laa’let nervous. What seemed like a good idea when she was eighteen and angry now made her job—wooing credits out of beings already much smaller than herself—very difficult.

“Doesn’t your friend know it’s rude not to stare?” she says, as softly as she can over the synth-glimmik pumping from the speakers, shielding her fangs with full lips—the only gift her mother gave her.

“My apologies, ma’am,” answers the trooper while ogling her tits for both of them. “He said he knew you, but he was probably talking out of his shebs.”

“Nah, he’s just shy. He doesn’t know how to ask,” comes a rumble in her cone. Another trooper pokes his head over her shoulder and starts taking mental soundings down her cleavage. 

Mindful of the bulk of her lek, she turns to glance at his plates—also purple, also winged. “Ask what?” 

The second one tilts his pretty face up. His hair curls in a way Laa’let recognizes as attractive to humans, and thick black stripes on his cheeks somehow brighten his green eyes, which sparkle at her with all the optimism of someone about two drinks in. “How much to blow bubbles?”

Laa’let takes a moment to parse this phrasing. The soldiers have a funny way of talking, but blowing bubbles is a far cry from their usual slang, crude and derived from military words she doesn’t understand. But eyes speak a pretty universal language, and theirs are glued to her red rack. If anyone’s going to introduce face fapping to the clone lexicon, it won’t be her.

But Green is far too cute to be allowed to bury those sweet cheeks so soon. The cheroot smoking on his breath is making her heart flutter, and she downs the rest of her drink.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Jock, ma’am. And that fastidious fucker’s Muse.”

She struts her long fingers atop the bar towards the doll and starts to toy suggestively with his little skirt. “Well, Jock, boys in blue get things on the house,” Laa’let teases with a smile, not bothering about the fangs. If these two are going to spook, better get the disappointment over with.

Muse sits his ass straight down for the long haul, and Jock hovers even closer.

“And boys in other colors?” he mumbles, brushing the back of a finger down her shoulder, evidently still full of hope. That he doesn’t go straight for her plushy lek says he’s got manners, and Laa’let feels her bum go warm on the barstool.

“What makes purple boys special?” she asks, genuinely curious. She’s not encountered any troopers in this soft shade before, and 69’s does a good trade in color—every dancer’s got their favorites, but it’s considered good luck to get crisp tips off a new one. They think it means you’re a trooper’s first; Laa’let just suspects a counterfeit operation somewhere.

“We’ve got walkers and big, fuck-off tanks with psycho warfare tech” and “we’re an elite, hypermobile, armored reconnaissance unit” are the simultaneous answers.

Muse makes a disapproving face at his comrade and straightens up a little when he clarifies. “We’re the 113th Armored Infantry Battalion, ma’am.”

“And the color?” she asks, fingering the lining of Jock’s skirt. Maybe she could get him down to nothing but this, then bribe it off him? The lethris on these things is pretty lush, given it’s army issue.

“Commander’s orders,” says Jock, beaming. “Matches our Jedi’s sabers.”

“Who’s your Jedi?” Laa’let prods, wondering how much two elite soldiers will leak over big tits.

Jock squints at Muse. “I think that’s classified?”

“Definitely classified.”

“He’s sealed tight but … I’m working on it,” Jock assures her with a wink, mischievous and loaded. She can’t tell if he means his Jedi, Muse, or both, but his playfulness is certainly working on her. Even if Diohn hasn’t just made herself conspicuous, inquiring with gestures about the status of flimsi in fingers.

Laa’let smiles, plucks the doll from the counter, and dumps him headfirst into her cleavage.

“Steady on, Rex,” gasps Muse, wide-eyed, grinning stupidly between the doll and slack-jawed Jock.

“For you two,” she begins, giving the little head a very illustrative shake, “this is ten…”

Using the nubbed arms, Laa’let pushes the golden top of her dress down, popping out one ivory nipple, then the other, conscious that she’s already given away about fifteen credits. “Handsies is twenty...”

Flipping the little doll over by the arms, she lets him come to rest where creamy fabric melts into the divot between her hips. Her senses are alight with human! now that Jock’s knees have failed him and his head’s propped up on her shoulder. Her right lek tingles against his balmy cheek. She returns Muse’s puppet wave. “And anything more is subject to performance review.”

“We…” Muse begins, opening and closing his mouth like a blurrg on spice, “we’ve only got twenty between us.”

Laa’let bites her lip and bounces the doll in her broad lap, like she isn’t preparing to inflate more than just their manual scores. She’s flipped her glass and her tits are out. Diohn better be getting her a fucking room.

“Tell you what. Twenty plus this little trooper and you might find I’m big enough to share.”

. . . . .

[CT-61-6898] Are you seated

     [CT-27-5555]      in briefing w some top squares      knock me down my ombre hombre

[CT-61-6898] …  RIP Cpt Rex

     [CT-27-5555]      !      what did those dumbfucks do

     [CT-27-5555]      its only been 12 hrs      we r still in the system ffs

     [CT-27-5555]      facts tho he was ltd edition      not even rex actual has one

[CT-61-6898] unnamed.holo

     [CT-27-5555]      !      u perv       what did u fucking do to him

[CT-61-6898] Shit That wasn’t for you Wrong holo

     [CT-27-5555]      too late      ...rip smokecheck

     [CT-27-5555]      commdr tano likes ur paintjob

[CT-61-6898] You fucking wish (...but I’ll pass on the compliment) 

     [CT-27-5555]      so he didn’t get creampied      good 2 know      what happened 

[CT-61-6898] rexnruby.holo

     [CT-27-5555]      !

[CT-61-6898] Is he scuba qualified 

     [CT-27-5555]      !

[CT-61-6898] Muse is sorry not sorry Rex was sacrificed for the mission He did give me a datachip instead

     [CT-27-5555]      WORTH IT

Smokecheck belongs to tiend. The 113th bros and Miss Laa’let are mine. 

[david-lynch-ate-my-son]

kastle 1940s au idea

so...i have another au idea....but it’s going to involve a lot of research before i even start writing it.

this is the mass of confused, train-of-thought text i sent my friend/beta earlier today. stay with me here.

it's a period piece set in 1941-1945 new york. flashbacks to 1941 and the beginning of wwii, with the bulk of the story occurring immediately following the end of wwii.

 in my mind, 1941 karen was attending Hunter College to earn a degree in journalism when the war began. and much to the dismay of her parents (who spent all their money to send her to the fancy new york school), she drops out to become a “riveter” working in the brooklyn naval yard (i imagine she gets trained in welding for ship parts). she finds that she likes the work, and feels like she's doing something important in the yard. 

so shes been staying at a women's boardinghouse ever since moving to new york city. (with like trish and jess, maybe. i imagine trish was also a student at hunter, while jess worked some menail job. and they all take up at the naval yard after pearl harbor.) 

so a block of so away from the boardinghouse is where the liebermans live. sarah is married to david, and david has been denied military service because he is working for the government in codebreaking. he’s been gone since the start of the war in DC, working with the DoJ.

 but all of david's friends, including frank, are serving in the war. karen and sarah become friends. and all of the women in the boardinghouse join one of those women's groups that writes letters to neighborhood boys overseas to keep their spirits up.

so obviously david suggests one of sarah's friends writes to frank, and sarah suggests karen.

so i'm imagining that down the line, the war ends and frank comes home.he's struggling with ptsd. and karen is struggling with the fact that she's being relegated to a second class citizen again, post-war. because during the war she could work like a man, go out alone at night, order liquor at a bar alone. and now she's not even allowed on the naval yard without an escort and shit. and idk...that's all i have