#or something like that. just to make sure you really got it in case you missed that whole fucking section of the fucking story

[clown-bimbo]

Sugar Daddy Leona

Definitely a gender neutral reader because he is rood in this and we already know Leona is canonically more respectful to women, so you are yuugender in this

You’re down on your luck and need cash. Maybe you’re even in debt to azul, who knows. But you need money.

Fortunately for you, a certain royal lion who throws money at problems he’s too lazy to deal with (which is most of them) currently has a problem that you can solve.

Leona needs a date.

Some stupid ball thing he has to attend. And for most of his life he’s been able to get away going alone, but this year his family is really pestering him to bring someone. He doesn’t think much of it, he’ll just find someone not too annoying to drag along with him. He’ll even pay them for their time. Win win. (He ends up offering you a stupid amount of money but you take the Ruggie route and just accept it from him)

And that’s how the transactional relationship between you and Leona starts. Innocent enough, right?

but then you and Leona get tipsy. Then you and Leona get handsy. And then you and Leona get in bed.

You wake up the next morning with the usual headache, but also a sleepy lion clinging onto you like a pillow.

Also you’re both naked.

And bruised.

And DAMN did you fuck up Leona’s back—

Tho it was probably deserved, especially now that you can really process how fucking sore you are down there.

Leona stirs, complaining about his headache. If he's surprised to see you in bed with him, you'll never know, because his face remains passive. He mumbles something about upping your pay, then falls back to sleep.

You don't even know where your underwear is.

You eventually do find it, you clean up and get dressed. At some point Leona finally gets up, pulling his boxers on but nothing else. His tail waves lazily behind him.

You try to bring up last night, but he starts digging through his pile of clothes and tosses a wallet at you.

"There'd be trouble if word got out, so I'm counting you to keep your mouth shut, got it, Herbivore?"

You just nod and try to leave as subtly as possible.

Below the cut is 18+ content. Tread with caution.

For my afab readers out there, the extra money is also for you to find last minute contraceptives. He wouldn't know the first thing about buying them himself, but figures you should, right? All he knows is that he came in you. A lot. And he definitely can't afford the consequences, and he doesn't want you to either.

You both expect to brush it all off, put it all behind you.

But uh

Leona finds him thinking about you more. Specifically when he's horny. And it's fucking annoying. So, once again, he decides to go about his tried and true method of throwing money at someone to deal with it.

He contacts you again and says (in the blunt Leona way) that he will pay you to keep going to events with him and also fuck him.

So now you've got the lil sugar daddy transaction going on. You join him to socials and events with his family, then he takes you to bed and fucks all his frustrations out on you.

Typically has you on all fours or bouncing on his cock. Man's has two modes: pillow princess or beast mode. Typically one followed by the other.

He'll be lounging on bed while you ride him. You'll get yourself off on his cock. And while your panting, he's shifting to grab you. He'll whisper in your ear I'm not done yet, herbivore, and suddenly he's pounding into you like a jackhammer.

Or it'll be a session of relentless pounding, but one of you wants more, so he'll lay back and have you ride him.

There are times where you'll both be exhausted (or in his case, where he doesn't want to exert as much effort) but he still insists that you keep going. Really, he just likes being inside you. Don't be surprised when you wake up sleeping on his chest, dick still inside you.

And he refuses to use condoms, he wants to cum inside you, and he fucking will. And he fucking does. A lot.

And if you're afab he absolutely makes sure you're on the best contraceptive plan possible.

He may tear any condoms he sees to pieces, but he still tries to be a safe sex king. Just don't make him wear the fucking rubber, unless you really wanna get fUCKED up that night. They make him so irrationally angry.

Or maybe there is some rationality to it. Maybe it's an instinct thing.

Over the course of the transactional relationship you really become his herbivore. He actively seeks you out for company. Like to the point Ruggie has not only noticed it, but become accustomed to it. Which also means he has teased Leona about it, though not often and a lot, because Leona seems oddly touchy about it...

Speaking of touchy, mans is so handsy with you, always has to be holding you in some way. Later on in the relationship, he started getting cheeky with it, and there have been a few times where you'd swat him and he'd just shoot you that wry smile. He will always move his hand, though, when you express discomfort or discontent. He only does it because he can tell you don't really hate it. You're mostly just embarrassed. And he likes the way you blush.

Will prob do a part 2 because I have more ideas but they're not nsfw and I want to make them available. Sooooooo... yeah.

[revelboo]

U h, so like, I may or may not have gotten absolutely hooked on your blog 👉👈 I absolutely adore your fics with the Seeker Trine, I don’t see much of them out there so when I stumbled upon your little series, it got me good. I am super invested in each of the stories and I really, really like the way you right!! Looking forward to more :3

Thank you!

True Romance Pt 5

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Wings flaring out tiredly to stretch out the kinks, Starscream pauses in the door to the communal habsuite he shares with his trine before closing the door behind him, sprawled on his back with his head hanging off the edge of his berth Skywarp glances at him, jaw clenching, then his attention is back on the human laying against his chassis, his servos sliding along your back. Across the room, Thundercracker is fiddling with the communication screen, so engrossed in his project that he’s not even noticed his entrance. “What is this?”

• Startling, Thundercracker offers Starscream a sheepish smile. “Movie night? I’ve been watching some of their media and it’s pretty interesting,” he says, inclining his head toward you sleeping on Skywarp. And he waits for Starscream to tell him he’s too busy, because he always does that. Knows his brother is the SIC and stays buried under reports and requests, but he just wants them all together like it had been before the war. Before the Decepticons. At least for a little bit. The ‘no’ doesn’t come though as Starscream drifts closer to Skywarp, attention on you.

• “They were cold again,” Skywarp growls, annoyed at being caught tending to you when he shouldn’t care less. But he likes the warmth of you there against him, the softness that should be off putting to him. Your little cheek is against him, knuckles against his canopy. Trusting him enough to rest under his watch and he’s not sure what to make of that or why it spreads warm through his spark.

• “Always,” Starscream vents softly, reaching to pick you up. Noting the way Skywarp tenses, but doesn’t try to stop him even when you make a pitiful sleepy sound of protest until he cradles you to him. Head lifting to look up at him, seeing who has you, and immediately relaxing again. And he can’t understand this trust of yours. That you just accept this and them instead of raging to be freed.

• Feeling that thrum in your bones when Starscream cups you to him, you know you should be trying to escape. But there’s almost always at least one of them watching over you. They’re not your friends by any means, but as he runs a servo against you, you’re not sure they’re your enemies either. Know it’s just Stockholm’s ringing your bell, because they’re always fussing over you, bringing you things, food, whatever they think you might like. Trying to keep you happy when they don’t have to. You’re still a prisoner, but it’s harder and harder to see the bars of your cage every day, they just keep blurring with every gentle touch. They’ll get bored of you eventually and let you go. And you’re not sure how you feel about that. “Everything okay?”

• Sitting on his berth, Starscream looks down at you. Seeing you watching him in return. Always asking them about their day. Trying to collect intel on them to pass along to your government in case you manage to escape? That must be it, but he still finds himself telling you. And you just lay your cheek on his servo and listen, asking questions and agreeing with him. Like you might really care. Hating that he wants to believe that, because something is very wrong with him.

Previous

[kurishiri]

01 ┊ The final promise, a mother's death

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— jude⌛'s past records, record #1.

— cw: domestic child abuse (physical), death of a family member, mentions of alcoholism and family neglect.

The amount of happiness a person is given in their lifetime is decided, and it is split equally for everyone.

Such was written in a book somewhere.

Just as there was no abundance of good things, neither was there an abundance of bad. Everything was made to be equal.

——If that was the case, then just what did this bloody wretched life of mine ever amount to?

Since I was born, I had never gotten a taste of that feeling called ‘happiness.’

My father was an immigrant from Ireland, who worked at the seaport.

The place was filled with violent people, making both public order and the working environment in poor condition, but not working would be the same as death.

And what was tragic about the job was the fact that you could be laid off at any point.

Jude’s father: Blast it all! I went outta my way to show up n’ they went and kicked me out!

Jude’s older brother: Was a fool’s errand from the start!

In the cramped house, the scent of liquor and tobacco pervaded the room,

and perhaps because of continuous exposure to that, my younger sister and I had weak lungs, and were often prone to asthma attacks.

Jude’s younger sister: *cough* *cough*...

Jude: Quit it already.

Jude’s father: ...Hah?

Jude: If ya continue smokin’ that stuff, ain’t no way we’re gettin’ any better.

J: If you’re gonna smoke go n’ do it outsi——gh!

All of a sudden, he hit my cheeks, and the moment I collapsed on the floor, he grabbed my hair.

Jude’s father: I dare ya to try sayin’ that again.

Jude: Hah, did ya drink so much booze your ears gone bad? I’ll say it however much I gotta.

J: I’m sayin’ ya don’t even got a penny in your pocket and yet ya go off smokin’ that stuff——guah!

This time, he hit my other cheek without holding back.

Jude’s father: Jude. How old are ya?

Jude: ...Five.

Jude’s father: Which is the age ya can go n’ work a job. And yet here ya are not doin’ that ‘cause you’re coughin’ a lung up.

Jude’s father: Who do ya think ya are, complainin’ when you’re a useless piece o’ trash, huh!?

Grasping at my hair, he tried to drag me around, when——

Jude’s mother: Stop this at once...!

Jude: Mum...

Jude’s mother: I’ll give him a talk and make him listen. Okay?

Mother took some money, and the two left the house for a drink.

(That cash... went and sold off clothes again, innit.)

She was a woman who could use perfect Queen’s English, and she was originally a well-to-do lady, or so I heard.

But, she pulled the short end of the stick, getting together with a good-for-nothing.

She sold the little jewels and clothes she had brought until she had nothing left to her name, and her health deteriorated.

—— Time skip (I think) ——

Jude’s mother: Jude, come here a bit.

Mother took me out to the garden, and there she took a stick and started writing something on the ground.

Jude: Mum, what’s this?

Jude’s mother: These are letters. They represent the words we speak... let’s see... it’s much like a ‘sign,’ so to speak.

Jude’s mother: See, this is how you write your name. J, U, D, E.

I copied Mother’s letters, writing them on the ground.

Jude: Wow, I could really get behind this. Hey, how do ya write Jazza——

Just then, Mother pulled me into an embrace.

Jude: Mum...?

Jude’s mother: In the times to come, even when your body is weak, and your money scarce, as long as you have wisdom, you can live on with that.

Jude’s mother: Jude, you are intelligent. I am sure knowledge will be your guardian.

Jude: Hey, mum, if ya hug me so tight it’s gonna hurt.

Jude’s mother: Hehe, you’re a big brother, aren’t you? You can handle this much at least.

Not too long after, Mother’s body grew weak, and she passed away.

The only thing left behind was the cold bed which she no longer occupied.

(She probably knew things would turn out this way.)

Running my hand along the cold surface of the bed, I recalled the final conversation we shared.

—— Flashback ——

Jude’s mother: Jude... I’m sorry.

Jude: What’re ya apologizin’ for? There’s a mountain of people other than ya who gotta apologize.

Father and my older brother drowned in alcohol, and even on death’s door, they didn’t bother even showing their faces.

Jude’s mother: ...I’m sorry, I’m sorry...

Jude: ...N’ like I said, don’t apologize.

Jude’s mother: ...Please...take care of your sister...Jude.

—— End flashback ——

That became the final conversation.

And, after that, my life stumbled even more down to the pits of hell.

to be continued…

first next →

masterlist🌙 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[der-schweizer]

This is a little idea about the post of @proneterror204 make sure to hit them up for the og post.

Danny was somewhere between bored, tired (which he almost always was) and generally not okay. How his parents had managed to draw the attention of Wayne Enterprise and get invited to a Gala that Bruce Wayne himself was hosting, was beyond him.

Granted he hadn't even known about it until about three days ago. Honestly he should be used to getting utterly blindsided by his parents ‘Come on, Danny. We are going to drive for the next three days. It's going to be fun’-type of surprises.

They had just left him enough time to lock down the portal, something his dad should have done, grab his suit that Vlad had gifted him. (As much as he dislikes the Froot Loop, Danny wasn’t stupid enough to throw out a multi-thousand Dollar suit.) And then they were off.

He managed to sneak in a few texts to Sam and Tucker on the ride. So now he was here, halfway bored out of his head. He had already been talked to multiple times, and each time got mistaken for one of the Wayne kids.

Danny could see it honestly. Blue eyes, Black hair, decent build body and an air of exhaustion that hung around most of them like a cloak. It was probably the reason why they kept coming to him. Thankfully he managed to shake them off rather quickly.

He had finally found a quiet corner where he could lurk and eat some of the finger food that was laid out on the buffet. Going for thirds was tempting as everything was very tasty but sadly not very filling.

“Man, I could go for a burger.”

A snort came from next to him, which nearly startled him. The girl that had been in the corner before was putting a hand over her mouth in clear embarrassment.

“Uhm. Hi?” Danny gave an awkward wave, not knowing how he should talk to her. In turn she said a quiet “Hello” whilst also signing it. Danny of course immediately picked up on it.

“Sorry to ask but are you…” he gestured towards his ears, signing himself in case she was deaf. The girl looked at him with surprise before smiling softly. “No, I don't like talking.”

“Ah, perfectly understandable. I do know ASL, one of my friends is almost deaf but she got those fancy implants that let her hear everything.”

In lieu of the answer all he got was an “Mhh.” He went quiet after, having no fucking idea what to talk about. Danny quietly wondered what the fuck he could even talk about, the weather? Either rain or fog. The city? Rockbottom in every poll except for crime. Thinking about it gave him an idea.

“Say, who is your favorite Vigilante?”

The question got her attention, making her think for a moment before quietly saying. “Like Wing. Yours?” Danny mused for a second, humming loudly.

“Hmm, I think it's Orphan. I mean, have you seen her move? Just pure grace and elegance. I bet she is an immortal Vampire that simply got bored and decided to fight crime.”

He didn’t see how she blushed, “No.”

Danny just scoffed, “Are you kidding me? She moves with far too much elegance and grace to be mortal. Credit to the other bats but they move like mortals. She dances around both rogues and vigilantes!”

She turned away for a moment, trying to hide that she was blushing but it didn't really work. “Orphan. Is. good. What about others?”

“Oh, hmm.” Danny looked up whilst tapping a finger against his chin. “Well there’s Red Hood and Stabby Robin. Both are top tier, which should be a no brainer.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Why?”

“Well. Stabby robin practices the art of the sword, a forgotten art in modern times. And Red Hood shoots pedophiles! Who doesn't like that?” Danny set his empty plate aside, looking around for a waiter with drinks.

Her answer drew his full attention back to her. “Batman.”

Danny scoffed at the name. “Yeah, of course he doesn't like that. I mean have you looked at the costume of the very first Robin? Doesn't take much imagination why he dislikes Hood offing pedos.”

A crackle in her ear drew Cass’s attention away from him. “Red Robin here, Lantern and Superman are moving in to arrest his parents. Can you keep him distracted for a while longer?”

“Mmm. You still want burger?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah? Do you know a good place?” The question itself caught him absolutely off guard.

“Yes, take me out?” She tilted her head, giving him a cute look. Danny just shrugged, “Sure, my parents are going to take hours to explain everything anyway and they keep getting sidetracked whilst doing so. I fully expect to still be here tomorrow. Might as well spend the time with a cute girl.”

She blushed visibly, then stuck out her hand. “Cass, we date now.” He grabbed her hand, flushing a bit as well. “I’m Danny.”

“No, not Danny. You boyfriend.” She hooked her arm with his and pulled him along. Danny quickly went along with it, not saying no to it.

In Cass’s ear Red Robin spoke again. “Uh Cass? That wasn't the plan. You don't have to date him. Cass? Please don't make me explain this to B.” A click was heard as another com went to the same line. Batman growled out a simple. “Follow. Them.” before it went off.

Cassandra just put a bit more pep into her step as she pulled her new boyfriend towards her personal favorite Bat burger.

Nightwing clicked his comm on, “Found them. They are in the parking lot at main and fifth street.”

He spent a moment taking a picture of them. It showed them sitting on a concert divider, with Danny pointing up with his left whilst holding a half eaten burger in his right. Cass was sitting next to him,a bunch of fries sticking out of her mouth whilst she was grabbing a bunch more. She is also starring right at the camera. Her look perfectly said ‘if you ruin this date, i will end you’.

Batman's voice echoed in his ear, “Keep your eyes on Danny. He might have the same ideology as his parents. Oa and the lanterns are already moving in on the Ghostly Investigation Ward. We might have to take him into custody if things turn bad.”

Dick was just about to answer when Cass abruptly stood up, dranging Danny up and then away.

“Hold on, they just started moving again.” Nightwing got up from his perch and followed them quickly.

Tim worked on cutting through the strange rope, “Okay. Just to make sure I got everything right. Danny and Cass went to Batburger and had some takeout, then went for a walk in the park whilst you followed them, right?”

Dick who was trying not to wiggle, nodded. "Yeah."

“Then some weird ass shadow creature jumped you, tied you up and hung you from this tree, right?”

“You are forgetting the part where I described it as a lady from the eighteen sixties, and the part where she said to leave ‘the king of kings��� in peace. Other than that you got it spot on.”

“You know, I would make fun of you for that but considering that there is no knot in this rope and its tough as hell I will believe you.”

“Great. Do we know where they went after I lost them?”

Tim looked him right in the eyes. “Steph found them, and considering how red she was when she came back, it's best to wait until morning.”

Dick opened his mouth to ask why before it clicked in his head. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Danny woke up groggy, his eyes were crusted over and his limbs felt heavy. For a moment he just laid there, then did a full body stretch, stretching from toes to fingertips.

After it he laid there for a moment listening to noises in the room. He could hear cars and their horns. Some shouting down the hall and the shower in the bathroom.

That prompted the memories of last night which caused the ‘i got laid’ grin. He let out a satisfied noise, before crossing his arms behind his head.

After a moment Danny wondered if Cass would be up to ‘share’ the shower only for him to freeze at the sight of the Batman in the room.

“Uuuhhh.”

“Daniel James Fenton.” Batman growled out. “You are hereby placed under investigation by the Justice League for potential violation of interdimensional rights. Your parents have already been arrested and are awaiting their trial. Do you have anything to say to that?”

[joonlover1207]

stubble ~ knj // drabble.

pairing : husband!knj × wife!reader

genre : established relationship, fluff, kisses, short case enthusiast, teeth sickening fluff and stubble duh....

summary : reader is obsessed with her husband aka kim namjoon. everything about him makes her swoon over him, especially his new look that includes his fit, bulky body and oh his delicious yummy stubble!

a/n : hiee lovies! ana this side 🥰 I am so sorry if I have made any mistakes, as some of you might know or not this is my first time writing! I am actually so nervous and so excited at the same time hehe. anyways stubble with namjoon is soooo addictive I can't stop thinking about him ughhhh. I hope whatever little imaginary drabble I wrote does justice and gives his stubble a lot of love lol. Spare me for any mistakes and reblog ?!

admiring my husband from afar, absorbing his new look, long hair, buffed body, thunder thighs, cute dimples and yes that fcking stubble... not a full beard but something...

just....

enough.

he's always so handsome, I feel really lucky that I've got him wrapped around my little finger and I get to call him my man.

imagining all of these things got me smiling like a fool making him notice and come my way, giving me that million dollar smile with those adorable dimples.

wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me closer to his body, lifting my chin with his fingers and asking me

"what's going inside your cute little brain?"

looking in his eyes I said "nothing, just this new look suits you. you look quite handsome."

him giggling at that sentence makes him even more cuter which makes my heart do a flip.

placing my hands on his cheeks but wincing and pulling away "oh owwww"

he takes my hand in his for inspection and asks "what's wrong my baby?"

pouting my lips I said " it's your stubble, it's prickly" making a sad face.

"oh really? thought you liked my new look?!" his smirk fully evident

"hey! don't twist my words, I love your look it's just.... how am I supposed to kiss you without it hurting?" I asked in a low voice

"guess it will have to go then, can't live without your kisses" touching his stubble and smiling softly down at me

"or you could give me a demo?" looking up in his eyes, batting my eyelashes at him

"but you said it's gonna hurt?" he says confused.

yeah for a person with 148 iq, he sure was dumb. but he was my dumb baby.

grabbing his chin between my fingers and sealing my lips to his " oh come here you big idiot"

as we kissed in a promise of forever.

[peterm4rker]

ten. the girl in the green beetle (written)

🕸🕷✮⋆˙ wc. 1.5k w. curse words! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

as you walked towards the place you and spiderman had agreed to meat for your first ever interview, you wondered how the fuck you ended up there. 

just a couple days ago you had been struggling to think about something to write about, your mind too occupied with thoughts of a certain biochem major that was too hot and nice for your well being. but now you were on your way to meet with a literal superhero because he had been nice enough to be your new source of entertainment for the school body, and even more importantly, the newspaper editor.

to say you had changed your outfit five times was the understatement of the century. you wanted to look cute, but also professional. not too professional to make you look stupid, but not too cute to make you look superficial, in chanhee’s words. it is unneeded to clarify he had not been of any help in the choosing of the outfit.

you got to the park where you had agreed to meet, finding your way behind the giant statue where no one ever went and setting down the cloth you had brought for the occasion. you got your computer started and your phone ready to record in case you missed anything, and waited.

★🕸️⋆｡ °⋆

mark hadn’t slept all night knowing that he was going to have to spend time with you without giving away his identity.

he kicked himself over and over for even thinking it was a good idea to accept your interview, much less offer to have multiple of them. of course, he knew that he could retract at any minute and you would understand and send him off with a smile, because you were that type of person. considerate, understanding, nice, beautiful… he could keep going with that list forever. but he wasn’t the type of person to simply back away from things he got himself into, he wouldn’t break a deal that hadn’t even started, not when it came to you.

with that conclusion settling in his brain, he was finally able to rest. but the world was unfair, and someone out there (most likely jeno) was praying for his downfall, which caused him to be in his current debacle. he swung around the city like he was being chased by a monstrous, villainized version of the flash, trying to get to the arranged location before you got too tired of waiting and left there, storyless and disappointed. he sort of wished he was being chased by a monster, that would be a better excuse for his tardy than “i fell asleep and woke up about half an hour ago.”

with his mastered speed and guilt fueling every movement he made, he got to the park twenty minutes after the time you two had arranged. he looked for you frantically until he spotted you, sitting on a blanket behind the statue, eyes focused on your screen. you didn’t look mad or annoyed, and he really hoped you weren’t. he approached you slowly and carefully, taking advantage of the fact that you hadn’t seen him to take his time to admire you. your hair laid perfectly on your shoulders, the clothes you wore highlighting every beautiful feature. and mark was breathless, utterly entranced by your beauty when your eyes lifted to meet his, making him thank the gods above that you couldn’t see his blushing face through the mask.

“you’re here” you spoke, surprise coating your voice as you looked up to his standing form.

“i’m so sorry im late” he began, trying to find a way not to sound completely pathetic as he looked for an excuse.

“don’t worry about it, i’m sure you have better things to do than be interviewed by a college reporter” you chuckled lightly and mark’s heart pounded on his chest.

“not at the moment, i just fell asleep” he spoke before he even realized, eliciting a laugh to escape past your lips.

“that’s okay, you deserve to rest” you smiled reassuringly “and i also had time to finish up an assignment, so it worked out for the both of us”

mark smiled and took a seat in front of you, having to remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to act the way he normally did around you. you weren’t there for him, you were there for spiderman, so he would give you spiderman.

“what were you thinking for the article?” he asked as he ripped some grass off the ground, playing with the leaves to keep his hands busy and attempt to hide his embarrassment from you.

“well, obviously i won’t ask for any of your personal information. so i thought that we could do kind of a series of stories that you would like to tell, like your battles through your eyes, what you think, feel, things like that.” you spoke, a slight smile on your lips as you noticed the nervous habit.

“that sounds really fun, i normally don’t get to share my perspective of fights” he nodded, remembering that you couldn’t see the way he was smiling at you.

“let’s start off by telling me your favorite one of your stories” you said as you opened a fresh document on your computer, ready to listen to whatever he said “i’ll start the recording now, if that’s okay”

mark nodded and took a few seconds to think of what story he could share with you, mind scanning through the hundreds of silly stories he could tell for one that would entertain you.

“okay, i got one” he spoke once he had it, looking at how you started the recording “this was not so long ago, actually. this guy decided it was a good idea to attack in the middle of the day, when everyone is outside and extremely conscious of what is going on around them…”

and he continued to speak, telling you about the guy with the weird laugh and the awful plans. he had a way of telling stories that made them a million times more entertaining than when they were talked about in newscasts. his expressions and body language had you audibly laughing, getting an inside scoop into the superhero’s very unserious mind and what went through it in times of battle.

“and so i’m chasing him through the bridge and cars are stopping everywhere, everyone is honking and this man is sliding around with whatever goo was oozing from his body, which i had the pleasure to touch later by the way, not a very pleasant experience” he shuddered exaggeratedly at the memory, making a chuckle fall from your lips “and out of nowhere this random girl opened her car door and he slammed right into it. she got off and started yelling at him in very angry sounding spanish and the man looked terrified, like i’m sure he was way more scared of her than he could have ever been of me. she stalled him enough for me to get to him and take him away, though, so that was nice… i remember it so well because every time i see a green beetle i know it's her and it makes me laugh every time because i can just tell that she’s one hell of an entertaining person to be around” he finished as he settled down on his seat again.

if there was one thing you had noticed throughout the exchange it was that he could not stand still for the life of him. he was always moving, fidgeting with something, bouncing his leg, something. and it made you think of mark without even realizing.

you had spiderman right in front of you and you still managed to think of mark.

“no way…” you laughed softly, typing some things in your computer as you laughed at the end of his story. “so in reality you’re not even the hero of this story, the girl on the green beetle is” you teased.

“oh, yeah, a hundred percent” he laughed as he watched your pretty smile decorate your face, and just then he realized that he hadn’t been tracking the time he had been there “sorry, what time is it?” “oh, its 11:37” you spoke after checking the time.

shit. he had a report due at one and he wasn’t nowhere near finished.

“i’m so sorry to cut this short, but i need to get going, you know, super hero stuff” he muttered a bit nervously, feeling guilty that he had to leave you just like that.

“its okay… i’ll see you here at the same time next month?” you asked, and he noticed how unsure your voice sounded. he liked this side of you, the shy side that mark didn’t get to normally see.

“of course, i’ll be here on time next time” he smiled as he watched you smile, nodding your head. you waved at him and he waved back before taking the first web to a lamppost, that way swinging away from you.

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

★ blue's corner ;; first spideyn interaction hehehe.... i wrote this at night and its not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !! ★ tag list ;; @winwintea @neozon3nha @kittydollzz @sleepyvic @injunnie-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @n0hyuck @julsinglee @leejenoenthusiast @morkiee @taroddori @mrsjohnnysuh @sunghoonsgfreal @dr3amersdiary @grlscrushing @flaminghotyourmom @johnsuhsbanana @stqrgr7 @sibwol @synthwxve @222brainrot @jeonghansshitester @gomdoleemyson @ninahorikoshifr @chriscentric @flamingi @ldh0000 @clean-soap @haechology @hyuckies18 @yutasloverr @kukkurookkoo ★ back to the main masterlist ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any content !!

© peterm4rker, 2024

[a-dragons-journal]

i don’t think my words hold much value to people like you, and i don’t think you would be willing to listen or take it to heart, but it’s still worth trying. i would like you to realise that you are human in every way. you are not an animal, you are not a dragon. (you probably already know this. maybe you’re in denial. i don’t know) either way, none of you would actually be willing to give it even a second of thought because you’re insecure about yourself, and you’re insecure because you know you’re human. i assure you that you will not reach full personal contentment until you live out your life without pretending to be a mythical creature. wtv have a good day

Ooh, I haven’t gotten one of these asks in a few years.

So I ask this, and every other question I will follow up with, completely genuinely, and if you’re willing to really get into the weeds discussing it I’d love to do so (though I’ll probably reblog any follow-ups to my other blog): why do you think you know me and my experiences better than I do?

Why do you think you can armchair diagnose me with insecurity? What evidence do you actually have for that, besides the fact that I’m nonhuman? What evidence do you have that I’m not already content and fulfilled in my life?

Is it possible that identifying as nonhuman is unrelated to those things entirely, and you’re making a false assumption?

I get it. It looks crazy, when you’re completely new to the concept. It’s weird - it is! But pause and listen to us when we talk about our experiences for a moment.

For many of us, myself included, finding nonhumanity is a moment of suddenly understanding - of pieces falling into place, of my life experiences suddenly making sense. Awakening is something that made me more content and fulfilled, not less - there’s a sadness in it sometimes, yes, but so too is there the comfort of understanding yourself in a new way, of realizing, oh. I’m not just weird. There’s not something wrong with me. There are other people like me.

(If this sounds a lot like the experience of figuring out you’re queer, there’s a reason for that.)

To use myself as an example of the flaws in your hypothesis: there’s… honestly not much dissatisfaction with my life right now. I’ve got a stable job with decent income. I’d like to be able to cut back my hours a bit, but that will come in time. I’ve got enough free time as it is to do my art and play my tabletop games with friends in my off time. I’ve got family and friends around me. Sure, I miss my wings, but I’m hoping to pick up powered paragliding in the near future and hoping that’ll scratch that itch at least somewhat. I’m doing pretty well, honestly. This isn’t the case for all otherkin, but it’s not the case for all orthohumans (people who aren’t alterhuman in any way) either. What it does indicate, however, is that your hypothesis that being otherkin inherently means you’re insecure and unhappy with your life is false, or at minimum flawed - if it were true, I wouldn’t exist.

So, I ask again: why do you think you understand my own experiences better than I do? And moreover, why does it bother you so much that I am the way I am?

The name for the thing you’re doing here, intentionally or not, is concern trolling - trying to push me out of an identity by professing concern for problems that don’t exist. Why? Why are you going out of your way to tell other people they’re wrong about their own identity? Why is your reaction, when you see an identity you don’t understand, to decide it’s unhealthy, or just make-believe, or whatever, and then to make that the problem of the people who identify that way? What exactly makes you think this is inherently unhealthy?

Would it not be better to devote that energy to trying to understand us, instead of trying to change us?

You don’t have to answer these questions to me, obviously, but I do encourage you to answer them to yourself at least. Pick apart your worldview for a minute and see if it actually holds up under scrutiny - it’s good for you, and mental enrichment to boot! If you are willing to really get into the weeds of this discussion with me, again, I’d love to do that - I love having discussions like this, and it’s good for me to have my worldview challenged every so often too! Please, genuinely, pick at the flaws in my logic if you see them - if it can be pulled apart under scrutiny, it needs to be pulled apart and rebuilt. No one on the internet is obligated to let a stranger do that, obviously, but personally I enjoy it - it’s a meat pumpkin for me - so let’s talk, if you’re up for it. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve gotten a good interesting antikin to debate with.

[wordsinhaled]

Hello everyone! I am so excited to finally be able to add something to this AU again! I have a few other installments I have been mulling over for a while that will hopefully see the light of day at some point in the future, but for now, here is a little bit of pining Charles :) This is set some relatively short time after @qwanderer's sickfic and will make the most sense if you've already read that bit <3

-

It is a bloody privilege, Charles thinks contentedly, to wake up on a weekend morning buried in a cocoon of blankets on Edwin Payne’s familiar sofa. Of course, Edwin is already awake by the time Charles blearily untangles himself and manages to get upright. The first thing he notices is that the flat smells incredible.

The second thing— Oh, god. He’s going to be late for farmer’s market. Mum is going to kill him. Especially if she finds out he overslept at Edwin’s and still hasn’t even kissed him yet. “Are you making breakfast?” Charles mumbles through a yawn, making his way through the maze of camera equipment into the kitchen to find Edwin in the middle of a neat pivot away from the fridge with a carton of whipping cream in hand. “Wait—why’re you making breakfast? Isn’t mum going to kill us? S’market day, innit?” “I took the liberty of asking Aadhya if we could help at next Sunday’s farmer’s market, instead. She very graciously said yes.” Charles raises his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s some excuse you must’ve had.” Edwin smiles, his cheeks dimpling, and Charles feels his heart do a slow, devoted flip in his chest at the sight of it. “Not at all. She simply agreed, and said she would find someone to cover for us. Your mother is really unduly kind to me, you know, Charles.” “So… you… asked for time off? For both of us?” Charles grins, incredulous. “You all right, mate? Not coming down with something again?” “I am fine, I assure you. It is just…” Edwin coughs delicately. He stares down at the wire whisk he has just got out of the drawer. “We have not had much time to spend together, lately, have we, what with the show, and our…” Charles could swear Edwin’s blushing, or are his eyes playing tricks? “My very silly misunderstanding putting us at such unnecessary odds. I suppose I simply… missed you? And wanted to make it up.” He puts down the whisk, which he had started fidgeting with, and sets to the task of measuring cream out into a mixing bowl. Right, Charles thinks. Edwin’s misunderstanding. The one where he’d thought Charles had a blooming boyfriend, when everyone and his mother, everyone but Edwin, knows that Edwin’s the only one Charles’s been able to think of in ages. He'd got all maudlin and sad-eyed about it, too—but that was the fever talking, Charles reminds himself—and so relieved when Charles'd disproved the whole thing… Charles has to wonder… well. He has to wonder, doesn't he? Still wonders, sometimes, if he’s totally lost it. Still wonders, when it’s been a long evening, and several hours since his last text from Edwin, if Edwin is texting Monty instead. But then Edwin had him round for Monopoly and takeaway. Edwin trounced him soundly, and Charles laughed harder than he has in weeks. When he admitted defeat he considered upending the game board in a flurry of paper money, in a moment of really awful sportsmanship, but he'd shaken Edwin’s hand instead. Edwin’s grip was firm and sure and... Charles had let himself linger. God, he shouldn't have, but he had. The cool press of Edwin’s palm was heady and perfect, fizzed through Charles’ blood and buoyed him for the rest of the night. They fell asleep tipped close together on the sofa, Edwin’s hair tickling Charles’ chin, Charles’ arm hooked about his shoulders in case Edwin had a nightmare like he does sometimes. And Charles woke up this morning to the smell of caramelized bananas and masala chai, and the ghost of Edwin’s cologne in his nose.

Edwin is making him breakfast, because he'd missed Charles too. Edwin missed him. And nothing’s changed between them, has it, nothing at all; except maybe Charles is even more in love with Edwin than before.

-

*Edwin is making Charles Bananas Foster French toast with homemade whipped cream <3

3/? - Restaurant owner / chef Charles / Food critic Edwin AU - continued!

Hello, lovely folks - the restaurant AU continues and has outgrown its last thread, which is amazing! Here's a new reblog chain to reblog from and continue the journey <3 I'll also be updating the masterpost to add this one!

You can read the AU from the beginning here!

The masterpost for the AU is here!

[hannahssimblr]

We surface eventually, and clamber down the back stairs and out into sharp morning light, squinting against the sun. I feel like a vampire. My friends’ faces are gaunt and drawn, eyes still black. They look like they’ve been dead for a week. 

Except Jen, sober Jen, who smiles sleepily and stretches her arms, breath condensing in the cold air. “God, that was mad,�� she says. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I say. Being out in the daylight like this is always weird, with families walking around, people going to work, while we are like creatures who have dug our way out of the earth, lurching toward home amongst the living. My mouth is so dry, and my jaw hurts. I foresee an afternoon spent throwing up, head in the toilet bowl, groaning as Jonas hammers on the door, appealing to my sense of humanity by reminding me there’s only one bathroom in the apartment.   

“Oh, well, I should probably pack my bags and stuff.” Jen says.

I rub my eyes. “Oh, your flight.”

“Oh, Jen,” Dalia says with a big sad face, “I wish you could stay,” they hug, and rock each other side to side. “Please, come back and visit. This was so fun.”

“I swear!” Jen says. “I love you guys. Come see me in Dublin!”

“Don’t make them go there,” I say, to which she laughs. “Actually, yeah. Never mind. I’ll come back here! And for longer!”

“Please!” Elias and Dalia cry in unison, and then we leave, trudging toward the train station. 

She snoozes on my shoulder on the U-Bahn, while Jonas and I, wired, wide awake, stare at our reflections in the window all the way back to Kreutzberg. 

I lie on my bed, eyes on the cracks on the ceiling, while Jen shoves things into her suitcase. She’s cleaned off all her makeup, leaving black smudged wiped crumpled on the surrounding floor. 

“This was so fun,” she’s saying. “I had such a good time. I mean, last night was amazing. Did you see I kissed that girl with the fan?”

“The fan?”

“Yeah, she was carrying this weird, lacy fan. Anyway, she was dead pretty. I wish I’d gotten her number.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I tried, but she didn’t speak English. There was no point.”

“So you didn’t speak before you starting kissing her.”

“No, we didn’t need to. I just met her eyes across the dancefloor and we both knew.”

“Ah, nice.”

The mattress shifts under her weight, and her face slides into my vision, pink cheeked, with eyeliner still smudged in the spaces between her lashes. “You’re coming down.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Judie. Rough day ahead.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be a few days. A week, even.”

“Oof. Do you do this a lot?”

“Too much, probably.”

“Oh well,” she plonks back down to the rug and continues shoving things into her case. “At least I know you’re having fun over here. I’d be worried you’re suffering.”

“Do you worry about that?”

“Kind of.”

I laugh gently. “No, Jenny. I’m not suffering. Things are good.”

She struggles with the zip, and it rasps lowly against the bulk. “I was worried I wouldn’t like your friends, you know. I’m glad I met them, because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish they were my friends. Jonas is adorable. Elias too, so fun, and Dalia is probably the coolest girl I ever met in my life. I never got to ask her what part of America she comes from.”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I dunno where that is.”

“Nowhere close to where I grew up.”

“You sound different when you talk to her.”

Turning my head is an effort, and the room lurches a little. Later, I’ll probably be so dizzy that standing up feels like getting off the waltzers. “How so?”

“Your accent gets more American. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, it does. I suppose when you’re talking to someone from the states you kind of copy what they’re doing, or something. It’s just funny, because you weren’t like that at home.”

“With dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not like I really talk to him, is it?”

She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve heard you say ‘okay’ to him a few times.”

“Hm,” I say. “Well, maybe I’ll lose my Irish accent while I’m here.”

“Would you like to?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

I shut my eyes in the hopes it will stave off the wave of dizziness that comes over me. My temples throb gently with the onset of a headache. I half listen as Jen goes on about how great my friends are, Jonas, Elias, Dalia. Perhaps she’s hoping I won’t notice who she has left out, but she is wrong. 

“What did you think of Astrid?” I say, and she pauses, just for a beat, before answering with enormous enthusiasm. 

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You were right. Even better in person than in the pictures.”

“Yeah.” I roll on my side. “She’s incredible looking, I know, but… like, did you like her?”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so nice.”

I hesitate. Astrid isn’t that nice. At least it’s not a word I would use to describe her ahead of something like intelligent, confident, shrewd. Out of all the traits she has that I admire, I couldn’t say her niceness is something that sticks out. It’s not important to me, and I require it from her. Nice isn’t untrue, exactly, but it's not a real answer.

“Your opinion is really important to me,” I say, and she busies herself in her backpack, double checking for her phone charger and passport. 

“No, I mean it,” she says distractedly. “She seems to care a lot about you, and that’s the main thing, you know what I mean?”

On my elbow now, I look at her, pulling things out of her bag and shoving them back in, and my anxiety rises. I wanted our dinner to go a little better, sure, and they could have hit it off more than they did, but Astrid is Astrid. She’s a tough nut to crack at the first meeting. It takes a while for her to warm up, to get comfortable. She takes some getting used to. 

“I know things were a bit awkward there, when we were talking about school, and she didn’t have anything to say and all that.”

She waves this off. ‘No, it’s fine. She didn’t have to say anything. I was more worried about whether we were annoying her by talking about it so much.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s alright, like, she doesn’t need to have the same humour as me.”

I frown. “Well, you and I have the same humour. In fact, we’re so alike that I thought you’d get along with her.”

“We got along.”

“But you weren’t bowled over.”

She sighs, “Jude, don’t make me talk myself into an awkward position.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m just wondering what you thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not accepting my answer.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“I have. I said she’s nice.”

“Yeah, but like, ‘nice’ is a non-answer.”

“She’s not what I expected, right? But there’s nothing wrong with that. I just always thought you’d prefer to go out with a girl that laughed at the same things as you, or was silly and goofy, or, I don’t know, less… severe. I’ll meet Astrid again, and I’m sure I’ll be bowled over. We just didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. It was only a few hours, and, I dunno, Jonas was there too, and I was talking to him, mostly.”

“I–” I decide to ignore the first part about the girls I supposedly like. “Well, I hope so. I’d be pretty sad if my girlfriend and my best friend didn’t get along.”

“Everyone is friendly here.”

“Right.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

I sigh reluctantly, and fall back onto the bed. My headache makes my brain slosh against the inside of my skull. “Jenny, I do. I believe you,” I say. “And I’m glad you like her. It’d be really fucking shit for me if you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

“Good.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Dune: Prophecy episode 2 thoughts:

[SPOILERS]

NOW WE ARE COOKING WITH GAS

Everyone continues to speak in Exposition Dump; I have accepted that the dialogue will just be Like This and have made my peace with it

I knew that Lila was gonna turn out to be Raquella's descendent!

TULA MOTHERFUCKING HARKONNEN your sister is underestimating you. Tula was kind of a nothingburger in episode 1 but goddamn, that conversation she has with Lila where she convinces her to undertake the Agony was so manipulative and creepy. And you just know at least some of what she is saying is lies even if you don't know quite which parts yet.

Everything with Lila was completely harrowing. She looks so small and young in the white robe in the lab. The fact that everyone at the school is watching from the gallery, fucking yikes. Chloe Lea who plays Lila did a fantastic job. Olivia Williams is terrifying. That whole sequence was by far the most riveting part of the episode.

Love how much they're doing with the Other Memory, which the films don't really have time to get into. Love that they're highlighting the idea that the ancestors aren't just passive conduits of information; they have agendas and can influence you. You can see the call-forward to Alia's storyline in Children of Dune.

The ancestral plane or whatever you wanna call it looked creepy as fuck, good job. Also love how the shrouded gray figures look a little bit like the silver-plate icon of Raquella that's perpetually looming over all of them.

LILA KNOWS THAT VALYA KILLED DOROTEA. Oh that's great. Especially since I am pretty sure that Lila is only mostly dead. That Chekov's gun is gonna go off at some point.

Dorotea says Lila's mother is "not here." I sort of thought the Other Memory included all your ancestors whether they were alive or dead but maybe not? In any case I assume the implication is that Lila's mother is alive.

Actually love that Tula got genuinely upset at the thought that she might have killed Lila. Love a fucked-up surrogate mother-daughter relationship.

Unsurprisingly I am becoming a bit of a Jen stan. You question that propaganda girl!

Continually getting jumpscared by the GoT rejected plotline/early 2000s Syfy miniseries/CW show based on a popular YA franchise vibes of the younger Corrino generation. Could've done without the sexposition. Ynez and Squareface Atreides continue to be so so so boring.

Squareface Atreides talking about the "rebellion" of what seems like Houses Minor/less powerful elements of the Landsraad as if it's some kind of popular revolt was great actually. I don't know how much this was intended, but classic Atreides bullshit of always thinking they're the Good Guys.

Desmond in floaty jail. Sorry I just could not take it seriously. I laughed every time they floated him around.

The fact that Desmond can resist the Voice makes me think he is not fully human, or not human at all. I was originally thinking he's just got a fucked up Tleilaxu robot eye that can fry people, but now I wonder if he's something else entirely.

Oh I am fully on board now and ready for more!

[joetavis]

2012 Avengers Tower AU:

Tony and Steve just got into a heated argument about who is the most American (both insist that it's definitely not them):

Tony: 4th of July.

Steve: Actually, the Army made that up.

Tony: You are called Captain AMERICA.

Steve: And yet I'm not even fully American. I'm also Irish.

Tony: I am actually- like actually, a quarter Italian and at least I know the language.

Steve: You are a genius, You knowing something doesn't make you less American.

Tony: Actually, the American education system begs to differ.

______

Steve: Your favourite food is Cheeseburgers.

Tony: YOUR favourite food is Cheeseburgers!

Steve: True. Lunch?

Tony: Sure.

*fast food break*

______

Steve: You worked for the American government.

Tony: You were born of the American government.

Steve: Personality wise, though, I'm not American at all.

Tony: Bullshit- You are all freedom, self-righteousness, honour.

Steve: Nothing honourable about America no more.

Tony: You are an American Soldier. Is there anything else that America's better known for than their military?

Steve: You've funded and supplied the military.

Tony: I stopped, you didn't. Also pretty sure you've known more presidents than I did.

Steve: I knew 6 total, you?

Tony. Hm- 8. But I bet you have more of their phone numbers.

Steve: As if you don't have any?

Tony: I delete their numbers immediately after they give them too me.

Steve: Huh, me too actually.

Tony: Anyway, You're blond with blue eyes.

Steve: Which is more of an Irish trait.

Tony: It's really not.

Steve: And you are rich, hence you achieved the American dream.

Tony: Also bullshit! The American Dream is from rags to riches, and I was always rich, so no Dream came true over here, baby! You on the other hand, didn't you grow up poor?

Steve: Yes, but I'm not rich.

Tony: You live in a penthouse.

Steve: Your penthouse!

Tony: I do feel like marrying rich is part of the American Dream and hence- you achieved it buddy.

Steve: We aren't married.

Tony: Ah, details.

______

Tony: You're still more American than me- You are all: Freedom, Freedom, Freedom.

Steve: And you aren't? Financial Freedom, Sexual Freedom, you are very free spirit.

Tony: Oh, I could teach you the ways of sexual freedom, too, darling ;)

Steve: See, you're shameless, American.

Tony: Oh, I'll show you how shameless I am-

*sex break*

______

Tony: The public loves you. You are literally Americas Sweetheart.

Steve: What? If anyone you are America's Sweetheart. Everyone knows Tony Stark, you are in the press all the time?

Tony: And they don't know Cap? There are like 10 movies about you.

Steve: Cap is just an alias, Steve Rogers is just a boy from Brooklyn.

Tony: My point! Brooklyn.

Steve: What Point? Malibu. AND New York!

______

Tony: Nah- You're definitely more American! You're colours are red white and blue. Which by the way- pretty self obsessed. And is there something more American than being obsessed with yourself?

Steve: ...

Tony: Ok. I see how that might have lost me the argument. I still think you're more American though.

*They turn to the other avengers in the room*

Steve: Only one way to settle this: Nat? Who of us is more American?

Nat: The fact that you are even arguing about this makes both of you way too American for me to deal with this. But since I'm russian, I will say the one of you that annoys me more is American, sorry Tony.

Tony: This is ludicrous. Captain America?

Nat: Well you are obsessed with Captain America, nothing more American than that.

Clint: He has a crush on him, too.

Steve: See? I win.

Tony: huh? So you are saying that I'm the most American because I like a very American thing?

The Avengers: Yes!

Tony smiles: Well, then. Since Steve likes me, and I'm the most American thing in the world, I guess that makes him the most American. Case closed. I win.

Steve: Doesn't work like that. We could turn that argument for ever.

Tony: And I will, I'm petty like that, I'll wear you out, Rogers.

Steve: My stamina is endless and so is my will to be right.

Nat: I changed my mind, that was obnoxiously American, Steve wins.

Tony: Ha! See? I'm the best.

Bruce: Arrogance is also pretty American. I vote for Tony.

Clint: Captain America got my vote- hello?

Nat: Technically i'm not American, so not allowed to vote.

Tony: You're lame, I could have won, Nat.

Steve: Well, that settles it. I am way too American, if I'm almost lost to you.

______

Tony: Hm. You know, now that we talked about voting- I may be more American, but if we both ever run for president, you'd definitely win.

Steve: That's crazy. You would definitely win! I couldn't even pay for the campaign.

Tony: Well, actually-

*Camera zooms out on the rest of the Avengers slowly leaving the room, shaking their heads in exasperation*

[orangez3st]

What actually happened to Rex's batchmates?

Here's my take on this, because atm I'm writing a fanfic about Cadet!Rex as well so I'm appealing for his fanon cadet fate.

I respect both "Rex's batchmates are all decommissioned because the whole batch is defective but Cody and the others saved him so now he's got PTSD from child ab**e" and "Rex got bullied because of his mutated blond hair" fanons (uh hey where did this begin? Had those been widely accepted headcanon that it became fanon eventually? I'm revisiting this fandom and am just stepping my foot into the fanon so maybe safe to say I'm kinda-but-not-really new) but... Hear me out.

(Future me, approx 2 hours after starting this post: okay this post turns out to be so long you might wanna sit down)

Disclaimer again; I don't hate those fanons but it's kinda bothersome to me (so cruel omg idek if he'd been really strong for, what, just 10 years haunted by child ab**e trauma, based on majority fic depiction? and said trauma lasted into the clone wars even? uh, really? more in 10) that I've pieced the puzzle myself on how one may approach this matter from another angle.

Facts i (we) know about clones

As far as we know, they have batchmates and squadmates.

Not only are they genetically engineered with accelerated physical stamina, they are also capable of withholding more stress than the average natborn. This is due to the fact that war soldiers generally suffer PTSD and the Kaminoans wanted to create Tupperware clone army. Thus, to a certain extent, genetically, clones prove to be more emotionally stable – mind you, that doesn't mean they're not immune to PTSD and other related traumas. There were clones who defected from the army just because they couldn't handle it anymore. As cruel as this might sound, yeah; there's something wrong with their programming.

There are 3 known mass-produced clone types: CT (Clone Trooper), CC (Clone Commando), and RC (Republic Commando). Each type is made? cloned? bred? separately. Obviously.

Clones are engineered to be obedient and submissive to order and structure. CT has the most extreme levels of this alteration, meanwhile CC has less, due to their supposed strategic position in command they have to adjust to every possible scenario thrown at them, eventually concocting tactically effective battle plans.

Mutations and defective traits are different. Mutations are uniquely positive and genetically induced or by experiment, while defective traits pop up due to poor maintenance or accidents. Kaminoan scientists are willing enough to tolerate mutations as long as it causes no further problems (like Blue Eyes), while they deem the ones with defective traits totally unfit for combat (like 99).

So, to stress and/or narrow them down:

Clones, regardless of type, are capable of handling more stress and adapting to situations quickly.

#GodlikeKaminoanEngineering (or so they say): Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't suffer trauma and/or related disorders. (Idk if this hypothetically would apply irl. If there's any legit research about this particularly, point me to the journal article lol I'd love to check it out tho I'm not a huge bio fan. Intriguing all the same.)

Nothing wrong with programming = wouldn't defect. Clone Force 99 is a special case, though. (This point is completely unrelated to Rex but I think still worth mentioning)

CT's aren't that much capable of putting all hands on deck in strategy talks (that's what the CC's are for). All they know is to wait for orders from command and follow them thoroughly and make sure the job's done. However, they may or may not develop those traits themselves and finally take initiative basically becoming a kriffin badass CC intern, like Rex.

Genetic mutations, as we know or may assume, consist of change in physical appearance. This could mean lighter skin tone, not-Jango-Fett eye color, or not-so-Jango-Fett hair color. This is due to recessive genes. Jango's sister Arla has natural blond hair, you guys.

Therefore, from my perspective, Rex is in possession of genetic mutations and definitely not defective traits.

Combined with his standard CT emotional intelligence, excellent combat skill, his (pre-Skywalker) undying love for order and structure, and if not little acts of valor that undeniably has to show during his cadet years (I mean it would carry on into his ARC training and first months of the Clone Wars that he's given jaig eyes), I see no reason why he would be bullied and shunned by the rest of his batch.

If any, they regard him with so much respect because he shines – gloriously – throughout his training and essentially be the local pride. He's their brother, after all! Their vod! That's how he would've caught Cody and the other's attention too.

☝🏼🤓 I do accept the fanon that he's a batch behind them. I can't think of a reason. Might as well be freeform. And it's cute.

So.

That's the baseline, for clones.

Now we move on to the man himself.

(on gif above) That is so Cody-coded, Rex.

(1) Decommissioned batchmates

Tbh not sure what being decommissioned means, but given the generally grim and threatening implication that it strikes enough terror and neck-breaking amount of trauma to Rex of this fanon, it's gotta mean being terminated(?). Correct me if I'm wrong, but for now I'm rolling with that.

Rex exhibits excellent capabilities on field during his training that it easily captures his trainer's attention. A transfer to the CC command training sounds possible, I think, since y'know, Ponds is a CT as well and I'd like to think he's above Rex that the rank Commander is permissible for him (yes yes Rex is given the Commander promotion but he turned it down because he favors fighting up in the front with his men I am a firm believer of this as well). So he just gets separated from his batchmates and situated himself in the new brotherhood.

Also here's my baseless debunking because I just don't know any of those biology-related stuff.

I just don't think every single of his batchmates are so defective that the Kaminoans pulled the genoc**e card. It's just... Not possible. Math and probability, anyone? Hello?

Assuming the only reason for being decommissioned is for possessing defective traits so bad that it's worse than 99, the Kaminoans have no excuse to pull the genoc**e card just because a clone gets blond hair instead of Jango's black hair. As much as I support them being the most ultimate of assholes, I don't think they'd waste resources just like that.

So, in conclusion of this one; I think not. Rex's batchmates are very much alive and well and kicking droid ass during campaigns :)

(2) Traumatized Rex

Fanon: Rex with child ab**e trauma and, in conjunction, PTSD because he witnessed his batchmates get decommissioned.

I shall assume he carries this trauma even to the Clone Wars period.

Oh hang on, okay, he's defective because he's traumatized? Or is it the other way around; he gets traumatized that it somehow affects his already-defected emotional intelligence? What about his coping mechanism, is it defected as well? If the decommissioning of his brothers affects him so much he couldn't cope and carries with him the trauma, I don't think he'd be fit to go further since the start, or even earn those jaig eyes.

One thing about Rex is that he's brave. Since we're working with existing materials to create this headcanon, and that the jaig eyes itself is important, the jaig eyes still gotta be there. He earns it because he commits acts of valor in the battlefield – because he is a man of honor. Rex is very much aware of his emotional state, aware of the proper time and place; when to break down and when to put on a strong façade, because he's that selfless. He puts his men first. He cares about his men. He regards every single troop as his brother. First in, last out. An inspirational figure with strong will, always trying his best being the prime example and morale to his men.

Aside from the genetic stress inhibitor traits, Rex is a strong man, physically and mentally. In line with my previous point about how implausible and improbable it is that every single of his batchmates gets decommissioned, with this fanon scenario, I don't think Rex would be some guy who easily succumbs to trauma. He'd push on through and survive, and lo and behold. Canon-wise, he does. Still does.

(3) Why is he bullied 😭

My poor little meow meow of a heart can't take it. I don't know what this version of Rex is supposed to be bullied for? But if it's because of his blond hair IT'S NOT DEFECTIVE TRAIT it's genetic mutation. Even the majority of the clones sport black hair and brown eyes Jango style and only some of them sport brown hair or lighter, and even fewer of blond hair. And the Kaminoans allow it, as seen in 302.

Look at him he's precious. Some may think he's overrated, but he's just being him. No wonder he's majority's favorite. So with all that said, I rest my case.

Sorry that took so long and much of your time, but for my part, I'm glad I got those out of me. I might write my Rex and the other's headcanon in the future. Mentioned I'm writing a Cadet!Rex fic, so there's the link, if you're interested.

And don't get me started with the natural vs dyed blond thing. I'm a firm believer that Rex is a natural blond, and I've written the reason somewhere above.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. You may use this headcanon in your adaptations if you'd like. Cheers!

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m not sure where I fit…

It may be because of the time of year I’ve now entered, but recently the thing that’s brought me joy is now bringing me stress and worry.

For that reason, I’ve decided that I’m going to post the remaining anon requests as they are with maybe a few story points added to them. If any other writer would like to take a swing at them, they’re more than welcome to ( @novashelby I know we spoke months ago about that possibility - it still stands if you like any of them).

@justrainandcoffee , @thomashelbyswife , and @alimosblog I’m going to keep your requests in case/hopes that maybe I’ll get a bit of inspiration….I feel like I still owe it to y’all to write something since you requested off of anon.

Other than the chance of that, I can’t see myself posting any writing soon. I think I lost my love for it and that’s what made my inspiration/motivation take a hit. So I need to go find it again.

I’ve got an idea for a series in my back of my mind, but I don’t think I’ll share it until I get a few parts written because I want to make sure it’ll actually go somewhere.

I’m also sorry my dedication to reading other stories has also taken a hit … I really don’t know what’s happened over these last few months.

I’ll still be here, if you’ll still have me … I’ve just been kinda feeling like I don’t have a place anymore.

Much Love K 💛

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

As the anonymous author of the famed (75 notes) What I Think Would Fix the Fates Royals asks, I now present to you:

Fates Royals Ranked by How Much Gender They Have (and also this time I include Azura)*:

Elise: You would think she's just a girl but she hides at least 15 genders under her bed alongside her contraband sweets. Nobody knows where she's getting all these..it's alarming

Xander: Xander has one solid gender. No one is quite sure what it is but he's definitely got a total of one. As you can see from his being so high on the list with only one gender, this family isn't very high on them.

Hinoka: She has like 89.5% of a gender and that gender is lesbian.

Ryoma: His gender is part Hoshidan, part his beautiful, illustrious hair when it's not in that weird headpiece. That is to say, one part is very deeply instilled in his personality, the rest is left to the imagination, you never see it but you know it exists. His gender would be sort of enigmatic if it wasn't SO in your face…known but unknowable, y'known?

Camilla: Has about 75% of a gender that can very loosely be described as being a woman. It's close enough that she doesn't bother explaining it beyond that but like there's 25% something else that she doesn't really touch.

Sakura: Whatever gender she has she does not think she's doing it very well. She's actually doing the best out of anyone because she's sweetiepie :)

Takumi: Takumi has got like half a gender. He had to move the rest of it out to make room for his crushing inferiority complex. Actually no, I think his gender IS having an inferiority complex.

Leo: Taking note of Takumi having only half of gender, decided he must become even less gender. This failed, he has the same thing going on now just in the opposite direction. Put them together and you now have every form of gender angst imaginable.

Corrin: No matter which Corrin you select at the start of Fates they both have just the vaguest hint of gender, dedicated to whatever meshes best with their siblings at the moment. Their gender is loving their family and having fun and also the inexplicable horror of existing in a nonhuman body and the alienation they feel because of it. Also autism.

Azura: They have so little gender that I consistently forget that they're supposed to be canonically a woman. You're telling me that if you could just sit by bodies of water and sing a little song and do cool shit all day you'd care about gender?? Yeah right.

*Ranking is NOT on gender they are, as they are all gender in some way. It’s about how much gender is in their gender. Also none of this is that serious because I could literally reverse the list and still make a case because they're my sillies :)

.

[shiningxfates]

Even without him being around, his contracts would know he wasn't dead. That much they could reassure the other residents if asked. With Lucifer already informing Charlie that he'd be gone, that shouldn't be too much of the case. Knowing Charlie was worried did bring him a little comfort. He didn't particularly like being worried about or being seen as weak. This instance was circumstantial. Defending the hotel and taking on Adam is what got him into this mess. The failure ate at him, more than anyone would know. Lucifer had made sure that he'd never forget this failure, even if it wasn't intentional.

This was Hell. Having to take time to recover wasn't very favorable. His eyes did turn up at the little line. He supposed no one was immune to this feeling. The interest was there. He did want to know. Any sinner who had half a braincell would be interested in the individual that held the actual lore of Hell. This was something he knew better than to inquire about. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he also decided to focus on the food in front of him.

"With all due respect, I don't particular like to eat with company around." It wasn't that he was messy. In fact he was quite proper when eating at the table. It was more a habit he had developed from not really wanting to be around other sinners. Then again, he wasn't at the liberty to be making such requests. Lucifer had been kind enough to bring him something to eat. The least he could do is eat a little while he was there. Retracting his earlier statement, he slowly removed the lid, letting it rest to the side of the bed. The dish was simple, a little stew but with the raw pieces laying on top instead of cooked in. It brought a genuine smile to his lips. Even if it was for show, he appreciated the gesture.

Alastor took a couple small bites before setting the utensils back down. "It's acceptable." He shook his head, giving a little laugh. "More than acceptable." If he was being honest, he didn't trust most of the hotel staff and guests to cook anything for him without a little guidance. Another thing he was used to doing on his own, and a hobby that transitioned from his previous life to now. This was just a situation that couldn't be helped. And as much as it did warm him, there was the constant reminder that this wasn't because Lucifer wanted to.

"I'm sure you're quite busy with the hotel. Please don't let me keep you." The sooner Lucifer left, the sooner he could go back despising this whole existence. He continued to be the fool here. Mistaking Lucifer's obligation to the deal for anything positive towards him would be his downfall.

The devil's lips quirked up in a small smile at the other's answer about not feeling quite like death. The pain was expected, he may have healed a majority of the wound but it would still feel tender. At least once they got through the second session of healing, the sinner would feel as good as new. It was good that it didn't feel like he was one wrong move from reopening the wound, though if Lucifer hadn't healed the internal damage, it would've been more like one wrong move from falling apart. Literally.

The fallen angel listens to the way Alastor admits that he doesn't have the energy to do his daily routine around the hotel brings little joy to him at the moment. Normally, he would absolutely relish it. But this wasn't something stupid that had knocked the Radio Demon on his ass, this was angelic power. He's more impressed that the other was able to bounce back so quickly and had lasted as long as he has. Not that Lucifer was going to say that out loud.

          "Char Char is worried about you," Lucifer answered after a moment of staring at those fluffy ears that were laying flat before moving his gaze back to Alastor's face. "I didn't tell her why you're out of commission. I don't precisely like lying, especially to her. I just told her that from my understanding, you needed to deal with a personal matter for the better part of the next week and a half or so. That you were cagey and didn't give me an exact estimate."

He shrugs a shoulder.

          "Besides, taking time to rest for recovery isn't something to be ashamed of. Everyone goes through it. Me included," He continued quietly and then averted his gaze from the sinner's to look at the still covered plate before pointing at it. "Eat. I was told you like raw venison. Which seems kind of cannibalistic in a way given the attributes you have. So I made you something with that in mind. I've seen nastier stuff eaten in front of me, deer boy."

Better to focus on the food instead of focusing on the bit of himself he told Alastor. He has had to recover from his own injuries. His Fall was not gentle. It had been violent and traumatizing, the night terrors still got to him and his wings would ache from just thinking about it. So, yes, better to focus on the food.

[waywardstation]

WIP FRIDAY

I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.

BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!

I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.

The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.

Enjoy!!

—————

“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.

“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”

Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.

Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”

Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.

“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”

“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.

“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.

Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.

“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.

It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.

“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”

The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.

“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.