#they’re dangerous. but one of them literally lives next door

[watchingyoufromthestars]

Something I haven’t seen anyone bring up before from Link’s hunger strike teen fact is — even though it was kind of an off handed joke from Freddie — Link and Taylor probably live super close to each other. Like possibly neighbors close.

[buckyshoneybunny]

The White Wolf (Part 1)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader  

W.C.- 2111 

Summary- Upon exploring the mysterious forest, you come across something you thought only existed in books. 

Warnings- None really. 

A/N- After a lot of contemplating I decided to turn this into a series. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to get another part out until the end of next week, hopefully 🤞. I haven’t decided how many parts yet tho. Anyway, thank you so much for the response on my last post, I could literally cry. I’m going to try and work on doing a masterlist, if anyone has any requests or story ideas I’d gladly take them. I hope you enjoy! Will be a slow burn.

Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Masterlist Series Masterlist

They say, that if anyone could marry an animal, that you’d be the first person to do it. That’s the only way to describe your love for animals. You loved animals with everything in you, you loved volunteering at animal hospitals and shelters, helping injured animals, but most of all, you loved capturing the beauty of animals with nature. Not necessarily studying them, but observing. Watching wildlife, and capturing the beauty of nature paired with the animals you loved, that was what you lived for. 

Which is how you ended up here. New York City seemed to have lost its touch with nature and the animals around, so you decided to adventure out in the few forests they have left to capture the beautiful world of nature and prove to everyone that it’s worth salvaging what’s left. There was one forest in particular that caught your attention, thick trees with no way to get through but the path that led through them, the morning dew that settled over the trees, it screamed mysterious and begged to be explored.  

When you told some of the locals your plan, they warned you not to go there, said dangerous creature lurked in that forest. They said that lots of tourist would go walking there, but few returned. That only fueled your determination to explore the mysterious forest.  

So, bright and early Saturday morning you packed up your camera and some supplies, threw on a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top, a winter coat over top that to strive off the cold fall air. Shoved on your combat boots and grabbed a knife your dad gave you for protection and headed out the door.  

You were a little bummed when, a mile in, nothing had changed, thick trees and brush surrounded you. But you keep going, determined to find something. Your determination paid off. 

About another half a mile, give or take, you came across the most beautiful scene you had ever seen. It was a clearing in the trees, the land was flat with a big gorgeous clear blue lake. The early morning sun shone through the trees, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The soft, green grass covered in a layer of moister, flowers littered throughout the field. But what caught your attention was the somewhat big, beautifully white wolf lent over lapping at the sparkling water.  

I thought all wolves were extirpated from New York? You quickly and quietly hide behind a tree and whipped out your camera. You snap a couple of pictures of the wolf, you put the camera away and look for a way around the field, not wanting to alert the wolf of your presence. As you back away from the tree, you step on a twig, the sound reverberates through the forest. 

The wolf’s head snaps up, gaze locking on your figure. You freeze in fear and captivity from its sparkling steel blue eyes. The wolf slowly stands up, revealing he’s bigger than what you first thought. He sniffs the air and growls. 

Now, throughout your life, your father always told you to remain still and calm when presented in a situation like this. He said animals can sense fear, chances are though that they’re more afraid of you. Don’t let them sense you’re afraid, if they can sense you aren’t a threat they’ll most likely leave and you can get the hell out of there. When have you ever listened to his advice? That’s the only explanation as to why you ran. 

You spin around and take off, willing your feet to run faster once you hear his howl and rustling behind you. Logistically you knew you didn’t stand a chance out running a wolf, but you hoped to god he’d lose interest quickly and leave you to run away in fear. You’d never like hurting animals but when the sounds of heavy paws hitting the ground got closer you grabbed the knife that was strapped to your side. 

The wolf quickly catches up and knocks you to the ground, growling. Before he can rip your head off, you cut down the side of his back leg, not to kill him but to get him to back off. The wolf yelps and scurries off of you. You take off running again but trip over a root, you fall to the ground, hitting your head on another root, knocking yourself out. 

When you come too, you’re lying on the floor of what looks like a small cabin. The main area, where you are, is a small neat kitchen and a living room joined together. There’s a table in the corner by the kitchen, a couch, rug, and small coffee table in front of a fireplace that’s currently burning with wood. You lay between the table and fireplace on the rug, a fleece throw covering you. Your bag is, what looks like tossed on the couch. You quickly crawl over to it, sighing in relief to find your camera undamaged.  

Your head is pounding, you reach back to scratch your back to find teeth holes in your shirt. Your ass and backs of your legs brown with dirt, looking like you were dragged. You freeze when you hear a whine. You look over to see small hallway that what looks like it leads to a bathroom on the right, and a small bedroom across from it, there's a door at the very end, looks like a linen closet.  

You slowly and quietly stand up, you carefully toe off your boots, hoping your sock covered feet won’t make much noise. You grab the fireplace poker as a weapon and follow the noise. When you reach the bedroom, the door cracked, you find the wolf curled on a large dog bed in the corner, furiously licking the wound on his leg, the one you gave it. 

You take a deep breath and push the door open. The wolf growls as soon as he sees you, he tries to stand up but whines and falls back down. You gently set your makeshift weapon down and turn to the bathroom. You rummage through the cabinets and drawers to find what you’re looking for. 

Walking back into the bedroom, you slowly make your way to the wolf, he growls and buries himself more in the corner. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “I just want to help.” You gesture to his leg, you set the supplies down and cautiously stick your hand out for him to sniff.  

Once he assures you aren’t here to hurt him, but to help him, he lays his head down and watches you from the corner of his eye. Once settled beside him, you dip a washcloth in warm water and gently clean his wound. He whines and jerks his leg. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Let me fix what I caused,” you say softly. Once you finish cleaning the wound, you wrap it in gauze.  

“There, all better,” you cautiously reach out to pet his fur. He lets you; you reach up to scratch behind his ears, he closes his eyes and nuzzles your hand. 

You giggle. “You aren’t so bad, huh?” He just lays his head in your lap. You look over at the nightstand to see a picture of two tall, muscular men. One with shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes, and a metal arm. Huh. You think as you look at the metal arm, the other guy has blonde hair, blue eyes- not a sparkly as the other guy’s is- he doesn’t have a metal arm like his friend. 

You pick up the picture. “Is one of these your... owner? Did they find me?” You question the wolf, knowing he probably doesn’t even understand you much less can answer your question. The wolf opens his eyes, he looks to the picture then back to you, giving you almost a deadpanned look.  

Just then the sound of the front door opening and closing, and the sound of feet padding through the cabin, fill the silence. 

“Hey, Buck! I just wanted to check in and se-what the hell?” The blonde man from the picture stops short when he sees you, his eyes widened.  

“Uh, hi,” you give him a shy smile. 

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in here?” He asks, almost harshly.  

“I’m Y/N. I was exploring the forest when I... I had seen him. Needless to say, he chases me, I cut his back leg, I fell and hit my head. I woke up here and helped patch up his wound. That’s the short version. I’m guessing the other man lives here? Is this his... pet?” You gesture to the picture on the nightstand. 

The man snorts. “Yes, the other man lives here, I’m Steve and the other man is James but everyone calls him Bucky.” 

“How do you get Bucky from James?” 

“His middle name is Buchanan” 

You hum in understanding. “Will this Bucky be back soon? I’d like to apologize for hurting his wolf” 

Steve grins in amusement. “You’re petting him right now.” 

“Huh?” You look down at the wolf still nuzzling your hand.  

Steve snickers and leans down next to you; he reaches over to pet Bucky but he growls in warning. Steve puts his hands up in surrender and chuckles. “The towns people didn’t tell you about our kind?” 

“Your kind?” You look at him, confused. 

“We are a wolf/human kind, we shift to our wolf form during full moon. Bucky here is the alpha.”  

“What?! Are you jok-this is a joke, right?” You ask in disbelief. You go to stand up but Bucky whines and puts his front half on you, nuzzling into your stomach. 

Steve chuckles. “Somebody likes you.”  

“So, you’re telling me that the whole, alpha, omega, beta crap exists?” He nods, you go quiet, not knowing what to say. 

Steve spends the next couple of hours explaining everything to you. From the pack, to why he isn’t in his wolf form, once you have a mate you can shift whenever you like but they still have ruts/heats after the full moon. Steve left with the request of watching over Bucky, you agreed, and that he’d be back in a few days. He also said to be careful, once full moon is over and Bucky shifts back, he’d go into rut. 

You stay on the floor for a while, Bucky still half on you and asleep. When he does wake up, he sits up and start to rip the bandage off.  

“Bucky wait-it's not done healing,” you go to stop him but he gets it fully off, showing that the wound is healed. “What the..?” You whisper, tracing the area the wound was at.  

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” You giggle. He sticks his tongue out and pulls his lips back, almost like a smile. 

He pauses and sniffs the air, he tilts his head, you giggle. He leans towards you, sniffing. He all but shoves his cold, wet nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. You yelp and giggle, trying and failing to push him away.  

“Bucky!” You laugh. He licks up your neck and you laugh harder. He nuzzles his head into your chest.  

“You’re a goofball. Listen, I have to go out and grab my stuff from my hotel if I’m gonna stay here for the next couple of days, okay?” His head pops up, ears flat and whines. “Awe,” you coo and scratch behind his ears. “I’ll be back, I promise. Wanna walk me to the edge of the woods?” He jumps up and runs to the door.  

You leave the bag you brought and head out, once off the mini porch Bucky stops, he motions to his back.  

“You want me to get on your back?” You ask in a slight condescending tone. He was huge, on all four legs he was just past your waist, but you weren’t skinny and you’d worry you might hurt him.  

He nods. “Won’t I crush you?” He rolls his eyes and waits. You sigh, giving in you straddle his back, legs wrapped around him just in front of his back legs, arms around his neck. Once you’re settled, he takes off, your grip tightens.  

Once you get almost to the edge of the woods he stops and lets you off.  

“You’ll wait for me?” He nods and lays in the brush out of sight.  

You head off to your hotel, grabbing your stuff and checking out. You get back to the woods, “Bucky!” You call out. Nothing. You walk a little further, where he had been laying was a pool of blood. 

Bucky!  

[writers-potion]

Suggestions for a body swap story? They seem harder to write

Body-Swapping Stories: I Understand You In A Particular Way

The high-concept of a body swap story is versatile, with endless possibilities. The main factors of a body-swapping plot would typically be comprised of:

Two people whose souls are being interchanged (the catalyst)

Awkward/funny/dangerous things they encounter by living the life of the other person (main premise of the story) 

A resolution brought about through insight gained by the protagonist about the other person’s perspective/secrets, with a promise to act differently once they’re returned to their original body. (the moral of the story)

Why are body-swapping stories appealing? Among many reasons, the central premise of such a story is to address the theme of: how much do we really know about others? 

As souls living in one body only, we encounter problems due to our lack of understanding about others around us, including external conflict, jealousy, misunderstanding, etc. It is a universal human experience to be curious about what’s in another person’s head and want to be somebody else sometimes.

By forcing the protagonist to experience “thinking inside another person’s shoes” in the literal sense, body-swapping stories tend to be versions of the characters growing up by breaking out of their old worldview to widen their intellectual horizons. 

Here is a list of common story components and patterns for a body-swapping story.

A Body Swapping Mechanism 

The body swap happens out of the blue as a one-time occurrence: a lightning strike, electric shock, supermoon, weird potion, etc. In this case, not much justification is required as there is no magical system or follow-up about why this happens.

A higher power conducts the body swap: a fairy, a disgruntled God trying to teach a lesson, a reputable couple therapist, etc. The rationale here is that this higher power is trying to redeem/punish the protagonists. 

One character actively wishes to have their body swapped: the school nerd who envies the prom queen, a daughter who wants to be a grown-up, a poor man wanting to be the rich man next door, etc. 

A character has the ability to “infiltrate” other people’s bodies. They use this ability in an attempt to solve a mystery, espionage, disguise a murder, etc. 

Only “destined pairs” can swap bodies. In this case, a bit of justification/worldbuilding would be good to convince the readers how these people are paired (bloodline, soulmates?).

Body swaps are conducted through a specific ritual or potion. This can be a candles-and-pentagon type, a magical notebook, a specific dance, etc. 

Body swaps are common in the story world, and everybody (with certification/practice/of age) can use this ability. 

The character(s) do something wrong which sets the swap in motion.

The Relationship Between Two (or more) People Getting Swapped

Relationships with long-standing misunderstanding: busy parent & unhappen child; couples on the brink of breakup; siblings with beef; strict teacher & irresponsible student, etc. 

In a romantic arc, a potential couple who are now going to fall in love as a result of this body swap

A human and an animal/supernatural creature 

Enemy relationships: the head of rival companies; a murderer and his victim, etc. 

If you have a magic system, your choice of people would depend on what the magic system dictates. Ask the question: is this someone my protagonist must learn about? 

Things to Explore

Protagonist(s) exploring each other’s bodies

Them arguing over how the other person should/shouldn’t use their bodies

Them trying to keep secrets from each other.

Them teaching the other person about how they should/shouldn’t act so that the body swap goes unnoticed by others around them. 

Them snooping around each other’s lives and secrets without the other knowing.

Them trying crazy stuff they’ve always wanted to do but couldn’t due to physical constraints.

The Purpose of the Body Swap

Providing the entrance into a new (fantasy) world. Ex) Human swapping bodies with a witch, forcing them to learn about the secret society of magicians.

Teaching the protagonist a hard-earned lesson. Ex) An ungrateful child gets to live a day in the life of her mother which humbles her. 

To resolve a long-standing (romantic) conflict. 

To provide a tool for crime, with unexpected consequences. 

Interesting Ideas

Writing these here just because I can. 

The Living Realm and the Dead Realm are like parallel universes. When someone meets an untimely death, their body gets swapped with their doppelganger in the parallel universe.

The protagonists are living in two separate story worlds. The author who’s in charge of writing stories for them is highly indecisive and keeps switching protagonists mid-story. 

The protagonist and her friend swapped bodies to cheat in an exam. But the protagonist’s friend dies – in the protagonist’s body. 

A magical agency offering to swap bodies for trans people who wish to have the body of the opposite sex. But their services come with a huge price tag…

Hope this helps <3 Let me know if you guys have more questions/ other ideas/ helpful resources below in the comments!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[saintzweig]

I HAVE AN IDEAAAAAAA AHHH pls enjoy

okay, so imagine this—reader is this sweet, quiet girl, the type who always sits in the front row of every class, takes perfect notes, hands in her homework days before it’s due. the kind of girl everyone expects to follow the rules. like always smiling politely, always organized, always perfect? she’s never the one to stir the pot or do anything unpredictable. she’s at the top of her class, the kind of girl who’s probably gonna go on to do amazing things, right?

and naturally, everyone assumes she’s gonna end up with a guy like art. because art, well, he’s kind of her male counterpart. he’s "sweet" in that classic, put-together way. everyone loves art. he’s the guy who says all the right things, holds doors open, probably has straight a’s without trying too hard, and everyone just assumes that, of course, she’s gonna date him because they’re so alike. they fit the mold perfectly. they’re what people expect.

but then, out of nowhere, she starts dating patrick. and patrick is literally the opposite of art. like, he’s rough around the edges, never follows the rules. they just know him as arts crazy friend because he doesn’t even go to stanford! he’s the guy who’s always late, always pushing buttons, always ready with a snarky comment. no one sees it coming. patrick’s the type of guy people just assume would never be on her radar. he’s got this edge, this intensity, like he’s always in trouble or on the verge of doing something reckless.

so when she shows up one day, and it’s patrick she’s holding hands with, not art, everyone’s confused. they don’t get that maybe she’s drawn to that chaos, that intensity. maybe she’s tired of living in a box and patrick, with all his unpredictability, is exactly what she needs. and patrick? despite the fact that he’s rough and a little dangerous, he looks at her like she’s the only person in the world who truly matters. and he’s so soft with her. so sweet and caring. and maybe he’s a bad influence in all the right ways ❤️❤️❤️

PLEASEEE this is the absolute cutest :") i love this so much and you've said it all perfectly. i'm not sure what more i can add but hopefully this is okay!!

i imagine them to start dating right before college so no one except art knows about their relationship. patrick knows how hard she can be on herself and pressures herself on her academic performance which gets him really worried, so he made art promise he'd watch over her since they're going to the same university.

that's why people think she and art would end up dating, because they'd always be around each other– eating lunch and studying together. they're just too similar to each other and that's just not what she needs.

until patrick finally gets a break from his tour and comes to visit her on campus, she'd bring him around to show him the campus. she's wearing this pink top and white skirt that makes her look tiny and frail next to a 6'1" patrick who's wearing his white shirt that show off his arms and his worn out jeans, they walk together hand in hand looking absolutely infatuated with each other. and everyone's confused because isn't she with art? is she cheating with his best friend, or did they break up and she's using patrick to get back at him? or maybe they're a throuple, no one knows.

the day after she get bombarded with questions and had to clarify to them that she's indeed dating patrick, and they ask why? he's bad influence, he's not good for you.

but really the two balance each other out. she needs a little risk in her life and patrick helps her loosen up a bit, while patrick needs someone to keep him grounded and she keep him from doing anything reckless. she has never enjoyed herself more and patrick has never played tennis better. and art is just happy to be there.

she would even encouraged him to reconcile with his parents and they've seen that for the first time in his life, patrick has something that he's absolutely scared to lose.

[ab4eva]

‘Ain’t That Loving You Baby’

Summary: Reader is out of sorts all day - grumpy, petulant, rude and just plain bitchy. Elvis takes it upon himself to set her straight.

Warnings: NFSW 18+, spanking, non-con spanking, established relationship, time period related ideas about marriage/relationships, copious use of pet names, use of the term “daddy”, fingering, aftercare, fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note: Y’all, sometimes inspiration for a fic strikes in the most unexpected of ways, as with this one. I know this isn’t everyone’s cuppa, so if I’ve tagged you and you aren’t into it, apologies and please just keep right on scrolling. Now please enjoy one of my top Elvis fantasies that I will write in as many different ways as humanly possible until the day I die.

Word count: 3.6k

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You couldn’t quite put your finger on it - why you were so out of sorts today. One minute you were close to tears, feeling sensitive and tender if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way or seemed the least bit careless with you. The next minute you were blowing up at some poor member of the Memphis Mafia, Vernon or even Elvis himself. You were grumpy, combative, and just generally in a very bad mood. It was as if a black cloud were hanging over your head, following your every step, raining on your own personal parade just to piss you off. The worst part was you knew you were being a brat but you were powerless to stop it. You felt itchy and irritated, on edge from the moment you stepped out the front doors of Graceland that morning to run your errands.

It didn’t help that when you returned, Elvis and the boys were lounging in the living room, making a right mess of things - beer bottles littering every surface, ash trays full to the brim with cigar ash, dirty plates covering the floor - it looked like a literal bomb had gone off. You’d just cleaned the entire house yesterday from top to bottom. Elvis had begged you to hire a housekeeper after you’d gotten married, but you were old fashioned, you saw it as the wife’s job to keep a clean house. And so you did…until all of these beastly men came and messed it up again. You surveyed the mess, a look of displeasure coloring your pretty face, your hands clenched into tight fists. Your heart pounded as you dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm and tried very hard not to scream.

“Oh hey Y/N,” Red said lazily, the first of them to notice you standing in the doorway. “These cookies are damn delicious.” Your eyes zeroed in on his hand and you saw he held one of your freshly baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, the ones you’d painstakingly made dozens of last night. They were meant for the cookie exchange your book club was having tomorrow. Your eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the men in the living room, all of them perched here and there on the furniture or the floor… and all of them with cookies in their hands. The big platter heaped with cookies you had carefully placed on top of the fridge now sat almost empty in the middle of the coffee table. Your eyes found Elvis’s as you inhaled sharply and gave him a look that could kill. He had the good grace to look abashed as he quickly dropped the cookie he was holding, standing up slowly from where he sat on the couch as he moved towards you, holding both hands in front of him in a gesture meant to placate you but it only enraged you further.

“Now baby, we didn’t mean to eat all these here cookies, but you know they’re my favorite and I-I-I couldn’t resist. And I had to share with the guys, otherwise what kind of host would I be?” His blue eyes were sparkling with something close to amusement and his voice dripped honey, soft and low, soothing. He knew the look you were giving him, knew he had to tread carefully.

“Elvis…baby,” you said in a dangerous and mocking whisper, “those cookies were for my book club.” You spat the words out through gritted teeth, barely containing your rage. The thing is, you were usually so easygoing, so even-keeled, the very definition of hospitable to guests in your home. Normally, this wouldn’t even phase you. But today? It made you so angry you could barely speak. Poor Jerry had the unfortunate thought at that moment to try and smooth the situation over by offering to clean up the mess they’d made only to have you snap at him (“Don’t bother! None of you had the bright idea to even think before turning my living room into a pigsty!”) as you stomped out of the room.

Things didn’t end there as your rampage continued for the rest of the day, cutting down anyone and anything daring to cross your path. Vernon made the mistake of asking you about a shopping bill for some new dresses you purchased last week, innocently wanting to know the total so he could add it to the monthly expense account. You almost wrung his neck - the sheer audacity of the man! The Colonel came sweeping in cheerily in the late afternoon, trying to pull one of his old carney tricks on you, thinking it would lighten your mood. It had the opposite effect and you told him off so completely that even Elvis had to chuckle at it with a bemused smile. But the final straw came that evening, as you and Elvis sat peacefully (for his part, at least) in the living room, quietly reading after a rather tense dinner. You made some snide, off the cuff remark aimed at the way your husband’s business was being run and in an instant, you knew you’d stepped over the line, pushed Elvis past the limit of what he’s willing to take.

As soon as the words fly out of your mouth you wish you could pull them back in, gather the broken pieces of them and keep them inside. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying to his face, realizing your mistake too late, realizing your bad mood has landed you here, in uncharted territory. Only once before had you taken things too far - two weeks after your wedding - Elvis had stormed out of the house in a barely suppressed rage only to return the next morning, acting as if nothing had even happened. You see his body still and his blue eyes widen in surprise before they darken, anger and annoyance flashing across his face before being replaced with a look of willful determination. You know that look, it’s the one he gets when he has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, won’t let go until he gets what he wants. Your heart speeds up in your chest, pounding almost painfully, you feel a little lightheaded and your mouth goes dry. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth to apologize, to take back the words you’ve already said, anything at all to stop this train from hurtling off the cliff. “Elvis, I-,” the words start to tumble from your mouth in a rush before he cuts you off angrily.

“That’s enough!” he yells, his voice booming loud and firm, your ears ringing with the force of it. “Now listen here, girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but that’s. Enough.” His voice is now dangerously low as he punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in your direction, his gold rings glittering wildly in the soft light of the room. He stands abruptly and strides towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you there. You struggle against him, beating his solid chest with your closed fists like a child, not wanting to be held.

“Lemme go…let me go!” you practically scream in his face. Something inside you refuses to be comforted in this moment, you feel as if he’s suffocating you. You don’t want him to touch you, don’t want him near you. And yet, it’s all you want, to be here, in his arms. His deliciously musky scent fills your nostrils as he presses your head into his shirt in an attempt to calm you. His chest is heaving with restrained emotion and his wiry chest hairs tickle your nose through his unbuttoned collar. Confusion swirls in your brain, you’re too upset to sort through the emotions that have been tormenting you all day as you thrash against him. His lip curls up in an annoyed smirk as he grabs your flailing fists, pinning them to your side as his jaw clenches, his strong arms vise-like as he clutches you tightly to his chest.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me why ya got a bee in your britches, darlin. Why ya been a goddamn brat all goddamn day… or I’m gonna make ya tell me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. His eyes search yours and his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to keep you in check as you still struggle against him. You can see the vein in his neck, the one that drives you wild, popping out - which means he’s excited or angry - or both.

“I’d like to see you try,” you spit at him scornfully, your bright eyes challenging him, your lip turning up into a slight sneer as you wriggle some more.

“Don’t test me, little one. I think someone needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the one to give it to ya.” He squeezes you tighter in his arms as you squirm, still trying to break free, and suddenly you’re having a little trouble breathing. You stop moving for a moment and his grip loosens just a little as you gulp in a breath of air. “As your husband, it’s my job to set you right when you’re misbehaving. So I’m gonna ask ya again, darlin - why are ya so outta sorts today?”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s just a bad day. You remember waking up and feeling fine, maybe a little tired. Elvis was already gone, his side of the bed cold and empty. He’d been distracted with contract negotiations when you found him in the kitchen, already eating breakfast. Without you. You had wanted to tell him a story about something that happened yesterday that made you think of him. But just as you were about to he was up and out for a meeting, without ever kissing you good morning. Or goodbye. All of these little things, you suddenly realize, subconsciously added up to you feeling neglected and uncared for by him. They had curled inside your belly without you knowing, sending sad thoughts to your brain all day long. You bite your lip as it all comes rushing in and you feel yourself close to tears.

You can’t tell him these things. They’re all too silly, too small, too insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. You just stare at him, your chest heaving, your eyes silently pleading with him to understand as a tear slips down your cheek unbidden. He softens for a moment, a dozen different thoughts flashing across his readable face. He gently wipes your tear with his thumb and presses a kiss to your cheek where it fell. Then he nods once, as if making up his mind about something. He releases you, grabbing your wrist again, practically dragging you over to the big, comfy chair at the edge of the living room. You go rather willingly, unsure of what his plan is. His other hand settles on the back of your neck, gently, as he starts to push you down over the back of the chair. You suddenly understand that something you have no control over is about to happen and you start to fight him again. But he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist as he keeps pushing your head down until you are bent almost in two over the back of the chair. If his iron grip on you didn’t entirely prevent you from moving, his strong, lean body standing behind you and pressing you into the chair does.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you down.” His voice in your ear is breathy, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Don’t think I won’t, honey. You’ve been ornery all day and you don’t get a say in what happens now, ya hear me? Just remember, this is for your own good. And I love you.” You stop moving, knowing he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to see this through. He releases his grip on you and steps to the side, his left arm settling heavily across your back to hold you down as he rucks your short dress up around your hips. You feel him run a hand across your round ass, cupping it and squeezing softly. You hear what can only be described as a delighted breath escaping his lips behind you, the soft huff of a chuckle, his ribcage expanding against your arm as he breathes deeply. The pressure as he grips your ass gets harder and harder before he suddenly stops and his cool fingers toy with the edge of your panties around your waist before he unceremoniously yanks them down to your ankles.

“Last chance, baby,” he says through gritted teeth, his tone stern as he pins you to the chair. You start to squirm again, panic rising in your chest. He’s about to spank you. He…he’s never done that before. Not even for fun. Your body starts to tremble and you shake your head, refusing to speak. You feel him raise his right hand and a ghost of a breeze whispers across your bare bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, your heart banging painfully in your chest, preparing as best you know how. You haven’t been spanked since you were a little girl and there’s something wrong, and slightly exciting, about it.

He delivers the first slap to your bottom with a firm, open palm, the impact of it echoing throughout the living room, the only other noise that can be heard is the ticking of a clock, your gasp and Elvis’s heavy breathing. You inhale sharply at the sting of it, but it isn’t as terrible as you were expecting and it dissipates quickly. You let out the breath you’d been holding, if this is all it is you can handle it. All is quiet and still behind you, and you wonder if that’s it…until you feel him lean down to speak in your ear again.

“That was just a warm up, little girl, ain’t gonna go that easy on ya for the rest of ‘em,” he murmurs, and you hear the love in his stern voice as you try and process what he’s saying. The rest of them? That was going easy? You start to wiggle, trying to break free once again and realize the whimpering noise filling the room is coming from your mouth. Before you can get too worked up he swats you again, twice in quick succession, a little harder than before.

“Ow!” you yell, incensed by your situation, kicking your feet a little. “That hurt!” You spit out through gritted teeth, angry now. “Elvis Aaron Presley, you let me go this instant!” Your demands are met with an amused laugh, and you let out a frustrated growl, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp.

“I see I haven’t sorted you out yet, honey. Still got some of that brattiness left in ya that needs to be broken. Your choice, little girl.” Elvis lets a small laugh slip, his eyes on your body as he slowly and deliberately brings his hand down on your ass again. It’s strong and forceful, but not cruel. It leaves you breathless, speechless. Finally the stinging has permeated your skin and refuses to leave. It’s starting to be uncomfortable and you can tell that if he doesn’t quit soon you’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.

“You’ve been petulant, rude, acting like a damn child all day. And that’s not the woman I know and love, the woman I married. No wife of mine is gonna act that like that and get away with it - not to my friends, not to my father, and especially not to me. Do you understand?” His hand gently cups you as he lectures, rubbing softly over what must be your quickly reddening ass. You hiss and grip the the pillow in front of you. “Answer me, girl. Do you understand?”

You’re not done pouting…if he thinks he can break you, sort you out, punish you - let him try. You stay willfully silent, refusing to speak. You hear him sigh as he removes his hand from you and you brace yourself for another round.

“Have it your way, darlin’…I’m gonna give you six more and if you’re still in a state, then we’re gonna have to have a serious talk, you and me," Elvis says, suddenly quiet and solemn and your heart drops in your chest. Maybe this isn’t some game he’s playing? You didn’t realize it was as important as he’s now letting on. You know you were a total bitch today and you do regret your words and actions… You cry out as he spanks you again without warning, his palm landing with more force than he’s given you so far. He continues and the spanking is relentless, but there's also something almost hypnotic about it. It feels like his hand is on your skin forever, but before you know it, it's almost over. And unexpectedly you realize the last couple of swats have sent lightening straight to your core, your nipples are tight buds rubbing deliciously against the coarse fabric of the chair through your thin dress and you’re surprised to feel slickness gathering on your thighs. You don’t know when your cries turned to breathy moans but he stops abruptly as he hears you, still two spankings left to give.

You’re breathing heavily, still clutching the decorative pillow adorning the chair as you clench around nothing, surprising yourself and Elvis as an obscene squelching noise echoes across the now quiet living room. You let out a breathless laugh, flushing a deep red, thankful he can’t see the embarrassment written across your face. You feel Elvis laughing silently as well, quiet little snorts as he tries and fails to keep from giggling.

“Well now, this is a development I wasn’t expecting,” he murmurs in your ear, leaning over you, his warm breath floating across your cheek. You turn your face towards his, your glassy eyes trying to focus on him as you blink slowly. “Now that it seems I’ve sorted you out, what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t also take care of my baby?” His right hand squeezes your bottom lightly as his left arm finally releases you and his hand slips underneath your hips, his long, cool fingers gently sliding up your soaking folds. Your breath hitches at his touch, letting out a whimper as he reaches your aching clit, circling it deftly with calloused fingers, once, twice, before dipping two of them into your wet heat.

“Goddamn, mama, so needy for me? Maybe I oughta spank ya more often,” he says breathlessly, his voice taut with desire. You know your husband well - it’s the way he sounds when his cock is hard and straining against his pants, aching to be set free. He’s probably already starting to leak, you think dimly, and the thought has you fluttering around him.

“Oh…” you manage to breathe out as he starts to pump his fingers into you agonizingly slow, his thumb finding your clit and applying light pressure. You rock your hips, already so close to the edge you can almost taste it. His right hand smacks your ass hard and you jolt forward, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his punishing hand on your backside has you starting to whine, unable to stop. He speeds up the movement of his hand, curling his digits just so into that sensitive and spongy part of you just as he delivers the final slap to your ass that has you clenching tightly around his fingers nestled inside you, coming harder than you have in a while, your high-pitched whine turning silent as you stop breathing for a moment. He groans above you and you feel him shaking slightly as he bends over your body - you know it’s taking everything in him to hold it together. After a few moments, he slowly releases you, helping you stand and your legs immediately buckle underneath you. Elvis grabs you under your arms to try and keep you from falling but you’re both so weak with spent energy and desire - yours fulfilled, his aching - that you both tumble to the ground in a heap.

"There. All sorted out, sweetheart?" Elvis smiles down at you as your head rests against his shoulder, his arm encircling your waist. His voice is rough but tender as he smoothes the hair back from your face. "How did daddy do?" he asks, a smirk pulling his lush lips up into a lopsided grin. You blink dazedly, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Daddy?” you finally say, rolling the unfamiliar word around on your tongue. “Hmm, I could get used to that, I think.” You smile softly as your hand reaches up to cup his face, your thumb brushing the scratchy stubble across his jaw as your eyes turn serious. “I am sorry, Elvis. For all of it,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“Shh, little one, I know,” he says, kissing your forehead softly and pulling you closer into himself, cradling you on his chest as your hand nestles in his chest hair, right above his heart that beats only for you.

And at book club the next day, when you’re settled on a mountain of pillows, no one even bats an eye.

-

Tags - I don’t have a general tag list so I’m just tagging some lovies who have enjoyed my previous fics: @jelliedonut @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @butlersxbirdy @missmaywemeetagain @headfullofpresley @powerofelvis @notstefaniepresley @amydarcimarie @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @sillybookmarks @melancholicbutterflies @thatbanditqueen @eliseinmemphis @godlypresley @ccab @richardslady121 @rjmartin11 @claire-elvisgirl @literally-just-elvis-fics

[suppose-i-was-worm]

I Put A Spell On You

Fake Dating (Part 1)

**I know, it's not the one that I started writing and was really funny, I'm having a lot of trouble with that one. Enjoy this one instead!**

“I need your help.”

Damian frowned, stashing away the knife he’d hidden beneath his pillow. Danny was crouched on the sill of the window he’d come in through, looking at him with wide blue eyes.

“Tt. What do you need? It is well past midnight.”

“I need you to fake date me.”

“What?”

Danny flinched, and Damian realized how sharp his question had been.

“My apologies. Please explain to me what is going on so that I can best assist you.”

Coming fully into the room, Danny started to explain.

“So, you know my parents and holidays, right? They- they’ve started hounding me about bringing home a significant other since Jazz got married.”

Damian nodded- he was familiar with Danny’s parents’ personality, even having never met them.

“Anyways, for Thanksgiving, they’re threatening to invite Paulina over and make me sit next to her. Paulina, Dames! I wouldn’t survive. So I told them I had a boyfriend who lived here in Gotham, and now they’re insisting on coming here to visit. If they find out I lied, I’ll be dead! My grades are too good for an early death.”

“So you came to me.”

“You’re the only person I know well enough to pull this off, Damian.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from his father.

“And you did not think to tell them about-“

Cutting him off, Danny grabbed Damian’s face and looked directly into his eyes, a serious look on his face.

“Damian, I assure you it would be a fate worse than death if they found out how we met.”

Damian pulled himself away from Danny, glad for the dim light of his bedroom hiding the blush heating up his cheeks. The other man had never been that close to his face, and Damian would probably say that Danny’s eyes were more dangerous for him than the entire League of Assassins.

“Please, Dames? It’s Paulina we’re talking about.”

Closing his eyes, Damian thought things through. Fake dating Danny would be- a blessing and a curse at the same time. A blessing, as it would require him to be close to the other man for extended periods. A curse, because he knew it would end as soon as Danny’s parents left Gotham. For Damian, who had been struck by Danny’s beauty from the first moment he’d seen the other, the brief benefits might just outweigh the pain of them ending. At least he’d have the memory of being close to Danny.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was holding his hands in a mock praying position, looking up at Damian through his lashes.

“Tt. Fine.”

Danny lit up, literally, and then darted forward, planting a kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“You’re the best! They’re coming in to town tomorrow- drop by mine when you can!”

The other man slid back out of the window and flew off before Damian recovered from the kiss enough to protest the short notice.

~~~

The next day found Damian waiting outside Danny’s apartment, flowers in hand. He had done some investigation as to what he ought to bring with him to meet a significant other’s parents, so he was also armed with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.

The door opened soon enough after his knock, revealing an older woman he had never seen before. He could see where Danny got his frame, though, as well as his delicate features.

“You must be Damian! Come in! Danny’s elbow deep in the microwave with Jack. I’m Maddie- we’ve heard so much about you!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He stepped inside the apartment, handing Maddie the wine and chocolates after she closed the door.

“Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? Danny!”

Danny poked his head out of the kitchen, and Damian almost swooned at the look Danny gave him.

“Hey Dames! Glad you could make it!”

He emerged, wiping what looked like grease off his hands, and took the flowers that Damian handed him.

“For you, Beloved.”

More importantly, he also took the short kiss Damian gave him over the bouquet.

When Damian pulled away, he was delighted to see that Danny was flushed.

“Uh- thank you! They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, you two are so cute! How long have you been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Not long.”

Danny and Damian spoke at the same time, and then Damian smiled smoothly, determined to fix his mistake.

“Perhaps I feel like our time together until now has been too short. Every time I see you, you are as beautiful as the day we met.”

He was rewarded with Danny flushing an even brighter red.

Maddie turned to her son, hands on her hips.

“You’ve been dating this polite young man for so long and hadn’t told us?”

Danny shuffled his feet, looking bashful.

“I didn’t want to scare him away. I really like him, mom.”

A large man came out of the kitchen, laughing a booming laugh.

“We can tell, Danno. It’s not like you haven’t been talking about him for the last few years.”

Damian looked over at Danny, doing his best not to let his expression show. Danny had been talking about him to his parents? For years?

Danny laughed nervously and then herded everyone into the dining room.

If he were being honest, Damian had pulled out all of his acting skills to charm the Drs. Fenton throughout the evening. He did not need acting skills for his interactions with Danny. He kept close to the other, wrapping an arm around his shoulder when he could and dropping light kisses into the shorter man’s hair when the opportunity presented itself.

It was heaven.

Danny walked him out to his car after dinner, and didn’t let go of Damian’s hand the entire way.

“Thank you for tonight, Dames.”

Damian smiled down at the love of his life.

“Of course, Beloved. Anything for my husband.”

With a scoff, Danny let go of Damian’s hand and stepped back.

“Sure, Damian. Drive safe.”

~~~

Danny Fenton knew when he was screwed. His parents had been in Gotham for a week, and Damian was still dropping by to see him on a semi regular basis. He’d even been touchy, and Danny knew that of all people, Damian Wayne wasn’t ever physically affectionate.

It partly gave him hope, and partly made him think this gambit was hopeless. He was aware of Damian’s extra-curriculars, after all, and knew the entire family were good actors.

And yet-

Damian’s parting kiss to him had been long and clinging the evening before his parents left, and he seemed reluctant to leave Danny standing in his own doorway. His hand lingered on Danny’s wrist, and his eyes were the last to tear away.

So, yeah. Danny was fifty percent sure that Damian might possibly reciprocate his feelings, but he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

He hadn’t had the courage to ask much of Damian since they met, even though he’d been half in love with the other man the moment they laid eyes on each other.

It had been a routine summoning- He’d tasted the blood in his mouth, and while it did not necessarily taste like the blood of an innocent (he always went to bat for the victim in those cases), it piqued his curiosity enough to check things out.

He rose from the summoning circle, crown of fire wreathing his head as he showed off his less human appearance.

The cultists fell away from him, scrambling to bow and prostrate themselves in front of him.

“Oh great Ghost King! Please accept this sacrifice in order to take your rightful place as the lord of all worlds!”

Danny looked down to see a handsome young man in a well fitted suit glaring up at him, blood drying from a wound on his head.

When their eyes met, something changed. The summoning circle flared from Danny’s own ice blue to a sharp neon green, and something lit up under the chair the ‘sacrifice’ was tied to.

With noises of surprise, the cultists started to rise to investigate, but Danny snapped his fingers and caught them all in ice.

Landing, Danny inspected both the runes in the summoning circle and the one beneath the sacrifice, and then floated out of the circle to find the book the cultists had been using to summon him.

When he found it, he had the urge to finish these idiots off himself. They had somehow botched the ritual so much that they had turned it into something of a wedding, and now he was ghost married to a human civilian.

Turning back to said human civilian, he found the other on his feet on the opposite side of the room, holding an improvised weapon.

“Oh cool, you got free. Good news, you’re not going to die.”

The civilian stiffened even more, arching an eyebrow.

“Tt. What is the bad news?”

Danny shrugged.

“Oh, not much. We’re just kinda… Married now? I’ll find a way to dissolve it, or something, and you’re not obligated to have anything to do with me, but… Yeah. Supernaturally married. Is a thing. That we are.”

Civilian’s shoulders slumped, and he stalked out of the warehouse (why was it always warehouses?). Danny followed behind.

“Oh, hey, we’re in Gotham!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Close to my apartment.”

The man turned to him incredulously.

“The ghost king has an apartment in Gotham?”

Danny let his transformation wash over him.

“Well, Danny Fenton does, and I’m him most of the time.”

“Damian Wayne. A pleasure.”

Damian held out his hand, and Danny shook it carefully.

“Totally! I’m gonna- go. I guess. And look into the ghost married thing.”

“No rush. It might be advantageous to be married to an interdimensional king.”

With a laugh, Danny lifted into the air.

“Sure. I’m cool with being friends, if you want. Maybe we can work together.”

“I can do friends.”

[lillie98]

How to Save the World—Stranger Things 5

I’ve had some time to sleep on the episode titles and think about them, read theories, etc. and I now believe they might be real.

Hear me out: Stranger Things is all about cycles, parallels, tropes happening over and over again. The Duffers love taking a moment and repeating it in slightly different ways to prove a point. The story started with “The Vanishing of Will Byers” because we needed to place a small, innocent child in the center of our story, something to bring our character together and drive them to action. Well, that child is no longer in danger and our team is ripping apart at the seams. It’s almost like we need something similar to reunite everyone and drive them to action again.

Remember: The Duffers love parallels. Will’s disappearance brought his deeply fractured family together, uniting them for a common cause. It also brought Nancy and Jon together when their families needed them most. Now, the Byers are a united front, ready to tackle any monster that comes their way. They are the glorification of the avant-gard family. Now which family is struggling? The Wheelers. The perfect, All-American Nuclear Family: Mom, Dad, 3 kids, and a picket fence. They look perfect to the outside world, but behind closed doors, they are deeply struggling. They don’t communicate, the parents have no idea what’s happening in their children’s lives, and if they’re not careful, if they don’t come together and form a united front—they’re going to lose everything, potentially causing the end of the world. (Why? I haven’t gotten that far yet!)

Now, how do we inspire them to action? Maybe by taking the child who was born to save their crumbling marriage—the one has seen everything but, up until this point, been too young to contribute. Now, she’ll be the same age Will was when he disappeared and Mike and Will are the same age as Jon and Nancy. The Duffers are trying to illustrate the idea of “The Next Generation.” This evil, this Upside Down dimension is NEVER going to stop until someone from the Wheeler and Byers families breaks the cycle. Children will continue to vanish, the world will continue to crumble, until someone steps up and says ENOUGH. The Wheelers and Byers (parents and children) must step up and face their pasts in order to move forward.

The “Stranger Things” are not only LGBTQ+ matters, they are the skeletons we hide in the closet that literally eat us alive. They are the dark, festering parts of ourselves we don’t let anyone else see. The invisible cancers that slowly and silently kill us. Until we face them head on, until we bring them to the light, they will NEVER die. Stranger Things is about owning your past, facing your fears, and finding the light again.

So yes, Stranger Things will end with Will Byers making it home from Mike Wheeler’s house on November 6, 1983, but not in a time traveling way, in a finally letting go of that scared, pained little boy who thought the world was better off without him. It’s Mike accepting his sexuality and place in his family. His role as a leader. It’s Joyce accepting love from Hopper, who must accept that he is not actually cursed, but that sometimes, bad things happen to good people, even when they think they’re doing the right thing (Vietnam). it’s Karen and Ted falling in love again and fighting to save their family. It’s Eleven discovering that love, not anger, should fuel her powers. It’s mourning your stolen childhood while stepping into the version of yourself that child never got to be. It’s stopping the cycle and creating a better world for the Will Byers and Mike Wheelers and Jane Hoppers of tomorrow. THAT’S how you become a Hero.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

I'm snickering at the idea of 141 meeting a real sweetheart right? But sweet heart is so chaotic and actually dangerous. "We need a distraction..." and next thing you know a miniature bomb goes off and sweetheart just has this little evil grin

𝒜 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

Task Force 141 + gn! Reader

Literally love this Idea. I can imagine the confused face they’re gonna have on their face after seeing you doing THAT. I hope you love this 💘

CALLSIGN FOR RADER: Witch

»»————-　☠　————-««

You are the newest member of the Task Force 141, had always been known as the "Witch" of the team. Your gentle demeanor and kind-hearted nature often contrasted sharply with the misunderstood people and nature.

One day, as your team gathered for a critical mission briefing, Captain Price addressed the group. "We've got a delicate operation ahead, lads and lass. We need to infiltrate an enemy compound, and the key is to create a diversion that'll allow us to slip in undetected."

The room fell silent as everyone considered their options. That's when you, with your ever-present sweet smile, chimed in, "Well, Captain, we need a distraction, right?"

Price looked at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "That's right, witch. A distraction."

You had a mischievous twinkle in your eye, and suddenly, an idea sparked. "I've got just the thing. How about a little surprise for our foes?" With a wink, you reached into your bag and pulled out a miniature, bomb, meant for "jokes". You always had a thing for things blowing up. In high school you blew up a trash bin and now you’re helping them to build one for a little distraction.

The rest of the team exchanged glances. They knew that behind your sweet exterior was a streak of devious creativity. "Alright, Witch, show us what you've got," Ghost said, curiosity piqued.

With everyone's attention on you, you tossed the tiny bomb onto the table. They didn’t believe you until they actually saw that in Action.

That was until today. You’re all in the West, fighting the enemy as you remember your bomb being in your side pocket. It was the only way to distract the enemy and win enough time for you to get into the car, where the team is already waiting for you.

Without thinking twice, you throw your bomb far away from you and it creates a loud boom and a lot of smoke. Without waisting time, you ran to the car and immediately closed the door. "Go, go, go!" you yell at gaz as you relax into your seat. You could feel your heart basically beating out of your chest.

The team burst into laughter, unable to contain their unexpected diversion. Even Price couldn't help but chuckle. "Well done, soldier. You never fail to surprise us."

As you wipe away the sweat on your forehead, you couldn't help but smile at your teammates. "You see, a little chaos can go a long way."

With your distraction in place, the team moved forward with the mission.

Later, as you all successfully completed the mission, the team couldn't help but appreciate the unique blend of chaos and sweetness that you brought to their lives. They had learned that you might be a sweetheart, but you were also a formidable and resourceful operator who could turn any situation to your advantage.

As you all gathered back at base, Ghost chuckled and said, "Witch, you may be a real sweetheart, but you're also dangerously unpredictable. That's what makes you one of a kind."

You flashed your ever-present sweet smile and replied, "Well, what can I say? It keeps things interesting."

And indeed, it did. The boys knew that with you on their side, their missions would always have an unexpected and entertaining twist, thanks to the chaotic, yet lovable, Witch of the team.

[iamvegorott]

Magicians Don't Need Superheros Pt31

First: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

----------

Marvin sat in what was now his usual chair in the library, legs crossed and watching the door. If Jackie’s assumption about Mad were true, then he’d be walking into the room any second. He had asked Jackie about other abilities Mad possessed, seeing what he knew about those ‘empathetic powers’ and he learned something very interesting. 

“Oh! Hi, Marvin.” Mad greeted when he opened the door and found Marvin looking at him. “Are we studying together again? The books, not you.” He said the last part quickly. 

“You can remove emotions?” Marvin asked bluntly. 

“I…well…yeah?” Mad wasn’t expecting this to be the first conversation with Marvin today. “I can increase and decrease emotions when they’re presenting. Regardless of how much of it is there. Just a fraction is enough for me to hold and adjust the dial.” 

“So when you said you could help Jackie with his fear?”

“I could literally turn it off.” 

“I can see why Mare told you to not use that ability.” Marvin sighed. 

“Yep.” Mad awkwardly popped the p. 

“Have you used that ability before?”

“Couple of times. When I was in danger and to myself after I first appeared.” 

“You can do it to yourself?” Marvin watched as Mad hummed and sat himself in the other chair.

“When I first appeared, I didn’t have any control over my abilities. I could feel every emotion of every single living being within a thousand miles. It was a lot. Joy, sorrow, fear, love, lust, everything that anything could feel, I felt. When I say I’m empathetic, I mean it to its fullest definition. If someone is sad around me, I become sad. So I was experiencing the most severe emotional whiplash that no other being could ever have and I turned them off so I could breathe.” Mad seemed so casual while talking about something most would see as severely traumatic. Marvin noticed how Mad’s eyes had turned to a dark purple while he spoke. “I couldn’t only handle that emptiness for a day and had to slowly bring my emotions back. But I’ve gotten a lot more control over the past year. There’s still always a mild buzzing of other emotions but I’ve narrowed it down to only within the same building and I don’t fully read emotions unless I’m focused.” 

“That sounds so overwhelming to deal with.” Marvin chewed the inside of his cheek. 

“It can be, but, like I said, I’m getting better,” Mad said with a proud smile, the purple in his eyes brightening. 

“Now I feel a little bad wanting to ask you for a favor after all that.” Marvin weakly chuckled.

“Don’t feel bad. It doesn’t bother me that much to talk about that time, I’ve done my work to understand the pain and now it’s just a part of my story. I’m happy now with the chaotic family that I have and that’s what matters.” Mad’s eyes shifted into a soft yellow, almost cat-like in hue.

“With that chipper attitude, you sound like you’re related to Jackie.” Marvin’s chuckle was stronger this time, relaxing when Mad showed no sign of being upset. 

“If I was related to a Septiceye, most would say it’d be Anti.” Mad laughed. 

“Oh God, I hope not. One of him is enough to deal with.”

“Anti’s not that bad. He’s really fun and nice once you get to know him.”

“I’m good.” 

“You’ll get it eventually.” Mad shrugged when Marvin only hummed at him. “What did you want, by the way? You mentioned needing a favor from me?” 

“Do you have a library at your place?” Marvin was happy to change the subject.

“Yes. Sadly, it’s not as large as yours or the Iplier’s, but it is a nice one.”

“And Mare and Phantom use chaos magic?”

“Yep!”

“Does this library of yours have books about chaos magic like my magic books?”

“Yes, it does.” 

“What would I need to do to be allowed to look at those books?” 

“You’re letting me look at your books, it’s only fair you can look at mine.” Mad stood up and pulled his phone out. 

“That was easier than I thought it’d be,” Marvin admitted out loud. 

“Hello?” Mare’s voice came out of Mad’s phone, a glance at the screen showed that it was on speakerphone and the contact photo was of Mare sticking his tongue out. 

“Can you send me and Marvin to the house?” Mad asked.

“You and Marvin? What does he want to do here?” 

“I want to show him the library.” There was a pause. “I’ll make you one of my fancy coffees~” Mad sang his promise and he grinned when Mare sighed.

“Fine. Just don’t let him destroy anything.” 

“I take offense to that,” Marvin said and blinked at the purple smoke bellowing out of the phone.

The smoke wrapped around their feet, legs, and stomachs, going further and further up their bodies until they were fully engulfed. Marvin was unsure if he should breathe, so he held the air in his lungs until he blinked again and found himself in a brand-new room. A quick look around gave away that it was the living room with the pictures of Mad, Mare, Phantom, and Blank hanging on the walls. 

“Hi!” Blank greeted from the couch, a Switch in his lap and music coming from the console. “What are you doing here?” 

“He’s checking out the library,” Mad answered as he went out of the room. 

“Yeah. Library.” Marvin spoke with his hands before clapping, popping his lips, and escaping by following Mad. He really needed to work on not being so awkward around children and still found himself wishing Robbie and Blank stayed at older ages more often than not. 

“Just the library, right?” Mare asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“Yes, just the library.” Mad went straight to the fridge and started pulling out sugary syrups and coffee creamers. “Do you want a coffee?” He asked Marvin. 

“If you don’t mind.” Marvin smiled and stood at the other side of the room. He did prefer tea, but seeing everything that Mad was getting out had him curious about his take on it. 

“You’re back already?” Phantom said as he came into the kitchen and then noticed Marvin. “Sup?”

“Mad’s showing me the library but he’s making some coffee first,” Marvin explained. 

“Mare’s letting you make another coffee? You had three this morning.” Phantom laughed, going into the fridge and pulling out a packet of cheese, putting himself next to Marvin. 

“You had three?” Mare looked at Mad.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him that,” Mad said to Phantom through gritted teeth.

“Whoops.” Phantom opened the cheese and started eating the shredded bits like popcorn. 

“You’re not having more coffee, you’re not going to sleep tonight at this rate.” Mare picked up one of the creamers.

“The pot is already brewing, it’d be a waste of coffee.” Mad snatched the creamer back.

“We can afford it.” Mare had the creamer again. 

“I’m making it for Marvin, we can’t be rude to our guest.” Mad grabbed the creamer but didn’t get it out of Mare’s hand, the two now holding the bottle together. 

“You don’t need more coffee.”

“I’ve only had three cups.”

“Your cups are massive mugs, it’s more like six.”

“Don’t use math against me.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this,” Marvin said.

“This is how they flirt,” Phantom stated, holding the bag of cheese toward Marvin. 

“We’re not flirting!” Mare and Mad both snapped.

“Arguing is how Chase and Henrik got together.” Marvin grabbed himself a handful of the cheese. 

“Chase and Henrik finally got together? That explains the emotional shift between them. It’ll be nice to have some less denial in the room the next time we’re all together.” Mad said. 

“Less denial?” Marvin asked. 

“Like Mare’s-ow!” Phantom’s comment was cut short by a shot of what looked like purple sparks hitting him. “The hell, Mare!?” 

“I know what you’re going to say and you’re not going to say it.” Mare threatened. 

“What? That you totally want to fu-damn it!” Phantom cursed when he was shocked again. “Cut it out!”

“You cut it first!” 

“Those two are definitely brothers,” Marvin muttered, pouring his handful of cheese into his mouth while Mad just casually made the coffee drinks while Mare and Phantom continued their bickering. 

[snailvibes]

SPLATOON 3 DLC DIRECT SPOILERS AS WELL AS A FULL ANALYSIS OF MY THOUGHTS AND PREDICTION FOR THE STORY AHEAD/// READ WITH CAUTION AND SCROLL FAST IM NOT PUTTING THIS UNDER A CUT

OK SO AAAUGHRHFHHWHDH SPLATOON ORDER DLC ANALYSIS HERE WR GO MY THOUGHTS IM SO HYPED AND SHAKING AND HAVE A VERY BIG PREDICTION

First and foremost I wanna point out that the area the octoling was in looks a LOT like the square, all the buildings and the shape of the area. But unlike the square there’s a very weird building? The door kinda looks like the door in that one picture shown but I doubt it’s the same thing. The picture of pearl looks like it could be for an opening cutscene, which if so means the whole square being white might not be just for show/some weird dream sequence. I think this is actually what the square looks like right now.

The MOST important thing I want to point out is this weird stuff we’ve been seeing everywhere. The white coral the weird plants and ooze and vines and tentacles. It’s all kinda fungal like, and it seems that wherever we are square or not it’s SPREADING, like a LOT. And whatever it is seems very alive if so.

It’s all also coral looking but still very fungus like with the way it looks like it’s spreading, almost like some kinda of parasite. Going with the coral theme the brain shown is reminiscent of both an actual brain and brain coral. There’s no way a brain would’ve been shown among all this if it wasn’t an ACTUAL brain for this weird new parasite like thing literally taking over everywhere.

I’m very convinced the main story will center around clearing this, kinda like the fuzzy ooze. Both like a parasite they spread, pulse like they’re alive, and possibly both take control of things. Unlike the fuzzy ooze though this fungal stuff spreads FAST if it’s already taken over the square entirely, and we also don’t know who’s made it.

Speaking of paralleling the splat3 storymode, we also have this as a glimpse into the past, only unlike alterna, far FAR into the past. My friend @solsticesailor (you can follow them here, Instagram, and Twitter so pls do) who, who used to study dinosaurs a lot and was there for my live stream reaction, pointed out it seems like the bone structure of an aquatic dinosaur. If true that fits with splatoon, but makes me curious why it of all things was shown. Judd was shown in the first hero mode trailer because he was a mammal, which correlated with the story. Maybe dinosaurs tie in somehow?

Along with paralleling past storymodes this one seems very octo expansion like. A lot of the images do tbh. Wires, abandoned buildings with floating structures (Octarian tech), it’s all very Tartar ish.

I’ve seen some people already jump the gun and say something bad happened to marina but this could easily be maybe a cutscene where she’s just pointing out danger I heavily doubt anything actually bad happened to her tbh, though the glitch in the image has me concerned it’s shown in other pause screens too. Also along with that octoling we keep seeing, there’s someone else standing there.

It’s possible that “someone else” is one of the many other octolings we keep seeing, but that leads me to my next point

I think we’re gonna have two protagonists. This octolings photo was pretty much as clearly shown as Pearl’s and Marina’s in terms of quality, making them suspect to being important. The other octoling also shown in clear pictures looks a LOT like eight, so I think we might be having two protagonists. Agent 8, and someone new who’s also an octoling. Maybe who we saw at the start isn’t eight, as they share more resemblance with the one on the left. Black tentacles instead of eight’s signature red.

with the little info we have so far my storymode predictions are that something is SPREADING. Maybe made by Tartar back in octo expansion, but it’s something alive and dangerous spreading, and it’s up to agent 8 and pearlina to stop it. It kinda seems like we break into a facility of some sort? Could be where it’s being created? They showed clips of the rocket area in the first storymode trailer, it’s not far fetched we’d be seeing the end game point of the lab it was all created at too.

ALSO AUDHEHFHWHD @acid-hues POINTED THIS ONE OUT BUT FOUR??( MAYBE??? DONT WANNA GET MY HOPES UP BUT COULD BE AUEHHHWHXHWH

[moonlightdancer26]

On the Twins’s sense of humor being more “Funny” than James Potter’s, it isn’t actually. They have endangered lives as a joke on more than one occasion.

Like locking Percy up in Pyramid. Percy might’ve died or at least been seriously injured. (Remember Bill wasn’t in Egypt for a vacation, He was there because the Pyramids had curses). Later, in Book 5, The Twins nearly got Montague killed by locking him in the vanishing cabinet.

Not sure if this is true but I heard that in some book, Ron implied that Fred or George killed a pet he used to have.

Good job comprehending what I said, you definitely didn’t state something that I was already aware of. You’re right, anon. I said the twins’ sense of humour is funnier than James. Funnier. I don’t recall saying “all those moments of them endangering other people’s lives and being shitty is actually 100% hilarious and they deserve no criticism whatsoever!!” anywhere on my post.

Yeah, the twins obviously endangered people’s lives and went too far a lot of the times; I, of all people, know how cruel the twins can be. I’ve literally made countless posts defending Perce and bashing the twins for their actions. But the point of my post was that the Marauders comparison is inaccurate (for many reasons), one of the reasons was that at least the twins were still funny characters. They still made and pulled actually-humorous comments and pranks (“What are Fred and I, next door neighbours?” “Gred and Feorge” “Roonil Wazlib” etc). Even if someone didn’t like them, they could at least appreciate their wit. My point is that they were funnier than James and Sirius, because there was pretty much no room for enjoyment when we look at the things the Marauders did, the Marauders themselves seemed to be the only people who think they’re funny. None of their “jokes” on page were actually chuckle-worthy to me, unlike the twins. And remember that humour is subjective, Nonnie. For example, some people might find the nickname “Snivellus” funny while some people (including myself) don’t, so saying “actually you’re wrong! these people aren’t funny!!” isn’t exactly a strong argument. Despite being critical of the dangerous things they’ve pulled, I can still appreciate the twins’ sense of humour while you can’t, that’s okay. Some people find certain comedians funny while others can’t, that’s okay too.

Anyway, I’ve had a good but tiring day and I need a nap soon, I’m sorry if this might’ve sounded a bit harsh, anon.

[forrestfanfics]

So This is Love || Age of Ultron 1: “Prematurely Powerless”

“So This is Love” Masterlist

Important Notes  || Next Chapter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Most of Stark Industries' employees would take one look at me and think I was living the best life.

Having Tony Stark as a dad, residing at the top of Avengers Tower, living in the lap of luxury, and having a guaranteed plan to graduate College by the age of seventeen…

But none of them knew that the one main con of having all that is the dread that engulfed me whenever the Avengers were out on a mission.

There was only one thing worse than having to sit patiently while the Avengers were out risking their lives for our safety.

That was knowing my father was out there with them.

What's even worse was the anxiety I felt every time he said goodbye, hugging me like it would be the last time he ever did. It triggered the dread I felt of not knowing whether he was coming home to me.

It started when I was ten, sitting through my dad's disappearance before he returned with a battery for a heart with the excuse of being half robot sent me spiralling.

And after what happened three years ago with Loki, things have only got more dangerous for the team. Meaning that I've grown more protective of my father.

So when he told me they'd be looking for the location of Loki's old staff, I didn't hesitate to grab hold of his legs and cling to him until he agreed to stay behind and let the rest of the team raid the Hydra base to get themselves killed… Presumably.

But it was to no avail, as he easily dragged his foot along the helipad, shaking me off with a single thrust of his foot into the air each time.

This led me to where I was, pacing around the tower for hours, pulling on the roots of my hair and cursing at my inability to help.

Being literally powerless was the most inconvenient thing about being Iron Man's kid.

I couldn't wait any longer. How long had it been?

Did they say they'd be back soon?

What did they mean by soon?

A few hours?

The next day?

A month?

It was too much…

Luckily, before I could scratch the skin off my scalp, the sound of Jarvis' voice echoed from my computer to my earpiece.

"Miss Stark, they're landing soon."

"How soon?" I asked, not realising the obvious panic in my voice.

"Circling the tower as we speak."

I was out of that room without a second thought.

My bare feet leapt across the floors, hastily rushing through various hallways and staircases.

Greetings from the agents flew over my head as I focused on the open entryway ahead of me.

I could feel my heartbeat pick up just as the Quinjet hovered down on the landing. The tip of its wings curled in on itself as the wheels made contact with the helipad.

"Whoa there!" An arm flew out before me. My feet stopped abruptly, and I stumbled into the outstretched arm of Maria Hill. "Relax, Y/N."

I couldn't.

I watched as the ship's door opened so agonizingly slowly.

I was silently praying that he would step off the ship in one uninjured piece.

And when people rushed to the ship and pulled out Barton on a stretcher, my heart dropped.

I looked up at Maria, who gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's not who you think it is."

What was that supposed to mean?

She pursed her lips at the sight of my frantic face, sighing before lowering her arm.

I dashed away the moment she did. My eyes eagerly scanned the heads that popped out of the ship, searching like a hawk hunting its prey.

An erratic-looking Hawk with wide, constricted eyes and a severe lack of footwear.

Maria had already caught up, putting a hand on my back and leading me into the ship. A small smile had been sent my way from the passing God of Thunder.

A part of me was excited as I had never been allowed inside before.

But another part of me was afraid I'd get in trouble because I had never been allowed inside before.

But all worry was thrown out the window when the familiar fluff of brown hair peeked out from above the captain's chair.

"Dad!" I smiled so wide I could feel the sting in my cheeks. Maria patted me on the back, giving me the go, and I ran over to him.

The chair spun around, and my father had his arms open wide, catching me as I fell into his embrace.

My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he did around my back.

Just like that, I was at ease. Happy that he was alive and okay.

"Hey, Neoma. What did I tell ya?" He chuckled, using the nickname he gave me when I was a kid.

"You came back," I spoke quietly, savouring the embrace.

I felt his hand move up to my head, running it through the strands of my hair soothingly. "I always do, sweetheart. Like I'd leave the company in the hands of my fifteen-year-old daughter," he teased.

"I think I could do a better job running this place." The words rolled off my tongue smugly as I pulled away to cross my arms over my chest freely.

He tsk'd at me. "I'll remember that when I'm handing Stark Industries over to Pepper."

I tsk'd at him.

From across the ship, Maria cleared her throat. "Lab's all set up, boss."

"Oh actually, he's the boss," my father pointed a finger at Steve who peeked over his shoulder, crouched by some equipment. "I just pay for everything and design everything and make everyone look cooler." He grunted, getting up from his seat.

"Right…" I rolled my eyes and spun on my heels to leave. "I'll be in my room now that I know you're okay- oof!" I gasped when my body was crushed against my father's torso, face first with his arm.

Steve ignored the witticism and pushed himself up off the ground. "What's the word on Strucker?"

"NATO's got him," answered Maria.

"The two enhanced?" Asked Steve.

"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins," Maria showed him via the tablet in her hands.

I huffed against the rough material of my father's maroon shirt, hitting the sides of my fist against his back as I struggled to breathe.

He only held me tighter. "Hey- hey! Come on. What? Just cuz you know I'm safe, you can go scurrying of? I missed my daughter too, y'know?"

I tried to speak-… Curse at him. Although, all that came out was a collection of incoherent sounds and grunts.

He pushed me off of him, giving me enough space to gasp for air. His hands were still planted on my shoulders. "I beg your pardon?"

"Said I couldn't breathe," I scrunched my nose at him.

"That was way more than 'I couldn't breathe.'" He scoffed before letting me go with a pat on my head. "Stay right here, won't ya?"

He turned away only when I gave a firm nod. He went to fiddle with a bunch of the jet's instruments while I plopped into the captain's chair, watching Maria and Steve exit the craft.

"How's school?" My father suddenly asked, not taking his eyes off the panel for a second.

"Really?" I grumbled, sinking into the uncomfortably hard seat.

"I want to make sure my daughter is as smart as I am if I want her graduating from University at the age of seventeen," he shrugged.

"It's a bit too late for that, pops. I'm already fifteen and still in my supposed senior year of high school," I chuckled. "And I meant 'really' as in like... I'm being homeschooled by a sentient woman who can't teach me Calc for shit," I shrugged.

"Don't swear… And you know risky it is to send you to a normal school," He finally finished whatever he was fiddling with and motioned for me to follow him out.

I hopped out of the chair and tailed behind as we stepped off the ship. "And who's fault is that, Mr. I am Iron Man," I mocked, speaking his name in a low dopey voice accompanied by jazz hands and an eye roll.

"I never sent you to school before that." My feet stopped in their tracks as my dad did the same, turning around to look at me.

"Though, now you've got me thinking that I should've. I can't hand Stark Industries over to someone who doesn't even know what the word 'Sentient' means," he booped my nose with the tip of his index finger before spinning back around and trudging on.

The annoyance had been wiped from my face when my brain processed what he had just told me. "Wait... It doesn't mean extremely old?" I called out.

He simply waved the back of his hand at me. "That's 'Ancient' you're looking for, Nugget!"

I pressed a hand against my forehead and let out a cry. "And to think, that the fate of the world would eventually fall into my hands…"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

[dolphin1812]

I’m very interested in Mme. Magloire’s words to the bishop in this chapter:

“ “Yes, Monseigneur. That is how it is. There will be some sort of catastrophe in this town to-night. Every one says so. And withal, the police is so badly regulated” (a useful repetition). “The idea of living in a mountainous country, and not even having lights in the streets at night! One goes out. Black as ovens, indeed! And I say, Monseigneur, and Mademoiselle there says with me—””

The mention of the lights, on the one hand, comments on Digne’s status (as a small town, it either does not have the funds to light the streets at night, lacks the political organization for that, or both) and suggests a contrast between the dark outside world (unknown, mysterious, intimidating - like the outsider we saw in the last chapter) and the safe, familiar world inside the lighted home. Of course, we know that Jean Valjean is outside right now, stuck in that darkness. When he enters the bishop’s home at the end of this chapter/the beginning of the next one (we can presume he was the one who knocked and who will enter now that the bishop has given permission to do so), he’ll literally and metaphorically step into the light: the light of the home, where he has so far only been seen as an unwelcome intrusion and a threat, and the light of the bishop’s presence.

Another aspect of political organization in this town that Mme Magloire points out is the police, who she portrays as “badly regulated” (unfortunately, their poor regulation did not extend to letting Jean Valjean use the prison to sleep in the last chapter). We can suspect, then, that while the townspeople will listen to warnings from the police out of fear for their safety (it’s likely that the reason people are so suspicious of Valjean is that there was some sort of announcement about him), they don’t actually trust them. They’re seen as disorganized, corrupt, or both. As Mme Magloire herself says, it’s another reason to rely on locked doors at night: if you’re suspicious of your neighbors and hostile to outsiders, but can’t expect the police (the law) to protect you, then isn’t it easier and better to keep out all possible threats?

Of course, we know her attitude is wrong because the bishop has consistently been framed as correct on most matters (with the exception of politics). But the combination of faith in the word of the authorities (that Valjean is dangerous) and distrust of them as an organization (the police are “badly regulated”) is intriguing.

Spoilers below:

It’s also important to recognize that “badly regulated” is how Mme Magloire characterizes the police as a whole, demonstrating that townspeople really didn’t have confidence in them to function well. Javert, then, is not unusual for the conflicts we witness between him as a representative of the law and those who are not privileged in society (say, Fantine). He’s unusual in that he is well-regulated, albeit by himself. We see this when he turns himself in to Valjean [the mayor] for denouncing him as an ex-convict - he believes that his accusation was wrong and that he has harmed someone he was supposed to serve, so he demands to be punished. Javert isn’t exceptionally cruel, then. He’s exceptional in that he does his job well. He’s cruel because the system is.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Scars(16)

Chapter 16: Balcony 

"so, what did you do while I was gone?"

The Avengers returned without a problem this mission going well. And no one suspected a thing. Alice went back to her room sulking by herself all alone and Loki his silent, sarcastic, rude self. Making everyone hate him a little more everyday. The only one who knew anything was Bruce. And man was he good at keeping secrets ....as long as you didn't directly ask him anything.

“books, movies, room."

“Did you read or watch anything interesting,” Tony asked trying to get to talk to him more. It seemed like in recent times she had been speaking to him less and less. They were sitting in silence more often than not. 

Alice was off and he noticed it, more so now than before he left. Something was different and he didn’t know what it was. 

“Are you okay?”

“Fine dad” Alice said as she continued to flip through the Tv channels.

“are you sure?” he asked as he ran a hand through her haid forcing her to give him her full attention.

“I want to go outside” Tony sighed, this wasn’t her first time asking to go outside nor would be her last. Every once and a while she’d ask to go outside or to go somewhere else the answer will always be no. It seemed that her asking had become less frequent she had learned not to waste her breath with him. 

But today was different. Tony stood up and took his daughter’s hand and lead her to the elevator, she was confused but followed. The elevator stopped on his floor and he pulled her along until they made it to the balcony. 

He opened the door and turned to her. She looked at him but didn’t step forward instead waiting for it, waiting for the ‘but’ for the other foot to drop. The thorn to this rose, the blood in this jewel, the bad in this good. 

But it never came. 

Instead he offered his hand she was hesitant but she took it. 

Maybe it would come afterwards if that was the case she’d have to wait and take what little freedom she had. 

Stepping out on to the Balcony she closed her eyes as she felt the high winds against her skin and in her hair. It whipped wildly all over the place. The air didn’t smell nice like the beach not cold or salty or fresh. But she wasn’t going to tell her dad that. In the books she read this was expected of the city.

“One day ... you could go further-maybe. But today this is all I can give, Please be patient with me,” Tony said as he stood next to her looking up at the sky while she looked down at the city. Both looking where they wanted to be. 

“You’re a mutant” Tony say suddenly she looks at him confused “ mutants are people with the x gene, a mutated gene in their DNA. They can have or gain abilities due to this genetic mutation which they are born with.” he continues “They’re different...You are a mutant, born the way you are. And that is why you’re up here instead of down there. Down there is dangerous for you. up here is safe.”

“Up here is dangerous too” Alice whispered. 

“what?”

“Safety is guaranteed no where. Down there is dangerous  robbers, killer, diseases. Up here is dangerous too. A lab full of dangerous weapons and chemicals, A building with literal glowing target for your many enemies both human and super. If anything being up here is more dangerous than being down there.” Alice looked to his father and found him look at her with an unknowing expression one she could not name. 

Turning away from him she looked back down at the city. They stayed like that in silence for a little longer both lost in their own thoughts yet unable to voice them in any way. Tony thinking of the many dangerous she spoke of and how he could and couldn’t protect her from them. Wondering how he was supposed to save her. And Alice wondering if this was the life she was meant to live, if this tower was all she would know, dreading, would she be stuck here forever? with no one but her father. What of Loki? would he wait for her?

Such thought came to a halt as Alice started coughing first small and short then heavily and deep and nonstop she eventually left the balcony. Tony followed offering her water and patting her on the back to help. 

“You can come up here. You can come up here whenever you want some fresh air. You don’t even have to ask just tell Jarvis.” He didn’t know what else to say nor did Alice instead she gave a nod and excused herself to her room. 

Tony didn't know what else to say to say. He wasn't that good at giving stuff or advice like this. He just now getting the hang of parenting and she was 17 years old. He should have gotten a manual.

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[fragileizywriting]

dog i cannot explain to you what this is. at all. this night was a blur and somehow i ended up writing a little drabble for this idea we came up with in the ot3 server, and it's not done enough for me to put on ao3 but i want to go to bed and i still want to send it to them so here it is.

cw: mommy kink, next-door-neighbor and milf marinette, university students luka / adrien living off campus, ot3

“You two know I don’t mind homosexuality— oh, Christ, I sound like a grandmother. Please, no, let me explain”—it’s not as if they exactly have a choice, not with the way she raises a single finger to shush them both as if they were about to leap for her throats for the potentially upsetting comment—“I adore you both. I am very much pro-sex underneath our roofs, I’m a—”

“—Ally?” Adrien offers.

“God, no. A bisexual,” she continues, cool as a cucumber, “and I’ve always been ever since I was young enough to figure out that fingering girls in the bathroom at school was like heaven. I have nothing against gay sex and I never have, and I do not ever want my boys to think they’re not allowed to fuck.” 

The silence settles again. Luka tries not to look at her fingers, and tries not to wonder how many times they’ve been in someone. He’s doing a shit job. His cock is far too interested to stop.

“But I just can’t let you two fuck without condoms,” she sighs at the two of them, putting her hands on her thick hips. The two of them shrink in their spots, shying away at being chided. “I want my boys healthy.”

“Marinette—”

“Healthy,” she reiterates, almost begging.

They’re on their lovingly used— he refuses to call it old— couch, each trying to keep modest with a single couch pillow over their crotch and a haphazard, itchy throw blanket over them both. Luka knows that the pillow wouldn’t have been enough for Adrien, who seems to move and itch and scratch the fabric all over in an attempt to have a reason to take it off and deliver some bullshit line about how Marinette deserves to see him naked.

Perhaps she’ll see me and think I’m delectable, Adrien always attempts to reason with him. Look at me. Who could resist?

That blanket is necessary. For his sanity and for Marinette’s… eyes. Adrien is a handful, though Marinette’s never not been able to handle him, but this is uncharted territory. Spare glances to one another and sexual tension aside.

She’s twenty years older than us, Luka keeps telling his boyfriend.

To which Adrien always answers back: Come on. Live a little. What other twenty-two year olds can claim they scored their next door neighbor who’s also a literal MILF?

God, how he wants to agree. He’s got it just as bad, though he reasons he’s doing a much better job at hiding it; meanwhile if Marinette wants Adrien to help her with chores around her apartment, Adrien’s at the door already scrabbling for the door handle in order to cross the hall and get into her space. If she calls him Kitty-cat, he’s purring for her.

Adrien is a lost cause when it comes to her. At least Luka hides his mommy kink, but his boyfriend is impossible to reason with when it comes to tits. Marinette’s tits.

Maybe Luka can somehow convince her to turn away. Maybe Luka can convince her to go back into the kitchen where she was mere minutes ago while he’d had Adrien at the bathroom counter— they hadn’t heard her walk into their own apartment, thinking that they didn’t have any guests— fruitlessly calling out their names in an attempt to get their attention. A left-alone Marinette is a dangerous one, and while him and Adrien have always known, they’ve both definitely learned their lesson tonight. The poor woman was just looking to tell them she’d made them dinner and was dropping it off…

Maybe he can stage an emergency.

He was checking my dick, Luka’s mind first comes up with. Or, rather, we just needed to make sure that his ass was in order. He’d complained that he’d lost feeling…

Not working. But it’s better than just staring at her in the same way puppies or kittens do when they’re completely unsure on how to navigate the room. Even sweat drying against the nape of his neck, with his balls aching and begging to be soothed and a dick that is harder than granite while staring at her cleavage, the most uncomfortable thing is how her eyes glitter at them both. He imagines a paddle in her hand, or at least a firm scolding with a lot of ass slapping, scolding them for misbehaving. Maybe Adrien’s imagining it too, though more… sexually… because Adrien’s breath hitches.

They’re screwed.

The more she purses her lips— even bothers to pull on a single lock of hair that she has in that high ponytail fitting for a mother who’s been in the kitchen all night— it makes more and more sense why Adrien’s fingers are moving quicker and quicker on the fabric. Thank god for this blanket.

She breaks the silence. “Also, you’ll fart come bubbles out of your ass if you don’t use a condom.”

Luka does his best not to get whiplash. “Huh?”

“Come bubbles?” she narrows his eyes when he refuses to recognize what she’s saying. She sits herself down on their ottoman, and Luka does his absolute best not to watch that poor little stool flatten and warp underneath such an ass. “You’ve never had come leak out of your ass? It’s so uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

Luka is so brave. He’s the bravest man in the world.

“I remember when I had my first orgy back when I was younger and it happened to me the first time. I was so miserable on that toilet, come dripping out of me like a damp rag.”

“How younger?” Adrien blurts out.

“Good question. I can’t remember where my kid was left with, if I’d left him at his grandma’s, or…” She’s prone to doing this a lot. She seems to misplace her kid everywhere, this poor man. Luka’s never met him, but feels sympathy. There’s a bit of an airyness to Marinette. Something ditzy. It goes with her personality and the way she expresses herself: lots of pink, and elegant little jewelry, like this set she’s wearing now. A simple v-neck dress that gathers and flows at her ankles in an attempt to be summery even though nights in their city dip into chilly weather, and a dazzling little gold necklace with her favorite bead that has a stick figure of a little boy. No shoes on as she digs her feet into their rug, anklets jingling as she bounces all of her weight on her toes, because even though they don’t have that shoe rule in their apartment, she does it anyway.

“Oh, I remember! I didn’t have a baby at the time, because it was my first true sex experience. Everything else was… nothing compared to this.”

Luka does the quickest math he’s ever been able to do. “Oh. Nineteen… eighty seven?”

“Not sure. I don’t think it was even eighty five, though. It certainly felt younger.”

He blanches. That’s. That’s not even legal. “You went to an orgy without being of age?” he asks. It’s a pathetic little squeak, really. He’s still dealing with his hard-on.

“Well, it was the eighties,” she lobbies. Side-eyeing him when she realizes he knows her birth year. “Seventeen and all. Anyway. Where was I?” Finding her point again, she trudges forward. “Ah, right! Come bubbles.”

Adrien squirms. “Marinette, I would really love to have this conversation, I would, I of all people know the importance of sex education, but we—”

“—I really can’t have you two fucking without a condom.” She waves Adrien off. “You know what come bubbles are, don’t you, baby?”

He has the audacity to narrow his eyes. “Why are you asking me and not Luka?”

“Well, I… it’s—”

“Do you think I’m always getting fucked?” Adrien asks honestly, a smile sliding onto his face. “Because I assure you, I like fucking people.”

“Uhm.” Marinette pinks. She has freckles along with age lines on her face, and it’s a symphony of beauty as she blushes. It’s hard to find her doing it, somehow always keeping her cool even when she makes it as far as coming across them fucking each other silly in their private bathroom in their private apartment, but now the reality seems to be dawning on her.

There are two young naked men staring at her under a scratchy blanket.

She found them fucking. 

She’d brought them dinner as usual, only to find them like this. Distantly, he wonders if the dinner is actually an offering of peace after she’d woken them up the previous week during finals with her Nutribullet and devastatingly thin walls that had Adrien knocking on her door and begging for reprieve. They’d sent their valiant soldier. She’d been adamant about him trying her new spinach-kale delight. Adrien had promptly come back home and decided that perhaps god was in fact found in morning smoothies, something starstruck and horny on his face. Mumbling something about being ordered to drink from her favorite glass straw, Adrien had only been able to relay the bare bones about how apologetic she was, before burying his face in Luka’s chest, talking about how even at six in the morning Marinette wears lipstick.

Adrien adores her lipstick. Just as much as he adores getting his ass railed in the bathroom, which was what Luka was attempting to do before this divine intervention.

“Well I’m sure you do, Kitty-cat,” she murmurs. “But you’re the one I found bottoming, baby. Without a condom. Were you going to come inside?”

“He usually does.”

“How do you deal with the come afterwards?”

Luka wants to die as Adrien answers: “Felching.”

“Oh,” Marinette answers. Wisely. Smartly. Wide lips made smaller. “I guess you can’t get come bubbles like that, huh?”

And here’s where Luka has to nip Adrien’s next sentence in the bud before it takes root. He knows that face. “Would you like me to prove how effective it is in—”

“—Marinette, we really don’t need the condoms,” Luka tries.

“Shoot,” she sighs, as if she hasn’t heard them. Biting a corner of her nail as she looks the two of them over like she’s trying to tell them apart. “I’d give you mine if I had any, but ever since I got my tubes tied, I haven’t needed them.”

Luka’s hand goes flying onto Adrien’s chest before he tries jumping off the sofa and pulling away the blanket from his dick.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

AO3 Fics Masterlist

All the hues of blue - FalseDevotion calum/ashton E, 172k

Summary: “My favourite is Blue Christmas.” Calum said quietly, eyes trained on the box, apparently fascinated by the array of Christmas decorations inside it. “Isn’t that song kind of sad?” “Isn’t 'kind of sad’ the definition of Christmas?”

Or

Sometimes a casual encounter can help you see everything in a different colour.

A Ticket to Another World (ao3) - lovealways1990 luke/ashton M, 29k

Summary: When a car crash erases Luke’s memories, he wakes up in the year 2014. Only problem..his last memory - testing a new drummer for the band’s first gig - is from 2011. Now, he’s forced to rely on second-hand accounts and flashbacks to retrieve his memories. Not to mention the new drummer Ashton is making everything incredibly unsettling.

Boys Only Want Love If It's Torture (ao3) - aalexandravictoriaa michael/luke, ashton/calum M, 57k

Summary: Luke and Michael meet at college and getting to know Michael is the best and worst thing Luke has ever done.

Butterfly (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 29k

Summary: Luke is depressed and Ashton makes him feel loved (and maybe Luke returns the favour too).

floating then drowning (ao3) - lovelymuke michael/luke T, 9k

Summary: As Luke stands over the bathroom sink and swallows one of the pills, he knows that this is it. There's no turning back after this. As long as he can make the bottles of pills he has stashed in the bottom of his suitcase last until the end of the promo run he’ll be fine. So he doesn’t worry. Instead, he just knocks back the second pill and walks out of the bathroom to his waiting boyfriend. He’s going to prove that he’s still worthy of being in the band, that he can hold himself together.

If he needs medication to do that, no one needs to know.

flowers in your hair (boys can't be pretty) (ao3) - prettyluke (parting_ways) luke/ashton, michael/calum N/R, 71k

Summary: Ashton has been in love with the pretty boy next door since he was seven. Luke has called Ashton home since he was five. They grew up with the daisy field behind their houses, but nobody told them that they couldn't love anywhere else.

for real (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 63k

Summary: There’s an order to things in LA. An established code of conduct between celebrity and mere mortal, wherein the mere mortal does not engage with the celebrity unless it is an approved event, like a red carpet or a meet & greet. It’s a symbiotic relationship that allows the celebrities to live their lives in relative peace and allows the mere mortals to look upon their beauty in the wild.

Lucky Charm (ao3) - jbhmalum michael/ashton E, 28k

Summary: during the european leg of the rowyso tour, michael is pining after ashton, and he finds himself on an interesting journey with luck

Magnet Souls (ao3) - jbhmalum calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 42k

Summary: Ashton loves sex a whole lot, Calum hates the thought of it. They’re soulmates. Alternatively, a story about self-respect and compromise in the name of love.

Mixology (ao3) - dafeedil luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 23k

Summary: In which Michael is reeling from a recent breakup, Calum has just flunked a semester of university, Luke has never taken a risk in his life, and Ashton has taken too many.

One night, four boys, one Los Angeles bar. A recipe for…well, quite possibly, not disaster.

(or, they all meet at a bar and fall hopelessly in love for the night. Only, it’s actually a lot more than that.)

Oil and Water (ao3) - dafeedil michael/calum E, 25k

Summary: Calum’s heart sinks a little bit, and he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s allowed himself to fall victim to Michael’s seduction yet again, or maybe it’s because he’s disappointed in himself for being so willing to try something that could so easily be dangerous. Or maybe, the most likely of all, it’s because he can hear Mali’s voice in his head telling him how stupid he’s been to have found himself—quite literally—backed against the wall like this, with a boy he barely knows whispering dirty promises into his ear when he doesn’t even know the first thing about real relationships.

Or, Calum spends a night with the boy that smells like smoke, and as it always is with bad addictions, he keeps getting sucked right back in.

rebound feelin' like a rerun (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton T, 33k

Summary: “Alright what the fuck?” Michael shouts, dropping himself down in the open corner of the couch. “What the fuck?” he says again, leaning forward on his knees, staring at Ashton across the room.

Ashton just shrugs. “He left me.”

The lack of emotion in his voice is concerning, completely free of the bubbling laughter and attitude filled charm that normally coats his words. It’s just empty, sort of bitter but mostly void of feeling, like he’s detached himself from the situation completely.

“But why?” Luke finds himself saying.

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

The Best Thing (the way it's supposed to be) (ao3) - gravityinglass michael/calum M, 87k

Summary: Or, the story of how 5 Seconds of Summer became a band (starting from the beginning) and how Michael Clifford realized he’d always been in love with Calum Hood (not starting from the beginning, not even close), and how taking on the world turned out to be less daunting than it seemed.

the hues of me and you (ao3) - Calumthoodshands (tndart) luke/calum T, 25k

Summary: “And you’re not… doing this to get a date after all?” he asked after a moment, chewing on his lower lip. If he didn’t make sure of it now, he never would, and if there was one thing he most definitely didn’t need, it was his own love life interfering with his bachelor’s. No, thank you. Luke exhaled almost unnoticeably, but he smiled at Calum, a little lopsided, a little mischievous. “No, I’m not. You know, if you want, we’ll just make a pact. No falling for the other allowed, as long as we’re working on the project. No feelings and no dates. Nothing’s gonna happen, and we can both move on, and you’ll get your bachelor’s and we can live happily ever after. How’s that sound?”

The Sun Is Burning Down Los Angeles (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 40k

Summary: Calum probably signed a form saying he wouldn’t fall in love with the lead singer of the band. And he really doesn’t want to. What a cliché. It’s just…people get famous for a reason. This guy got famous for all the reasons.

***

Calum moves to LA to work for 5SOS.

Tongue-Tied And White Lie Addicted (ao3) - fourdrunksluts michael/ashton, luke/calum E, 50k

Summary: Michael’s just finished his undergrad and is ready to stop messing around with strangers and get more serious about his studies as he prepares for his dream job. No relationships, no sex. Which is harder than it sounds when Ashton Irwin comes into his life.

Too Young, Too Dumb (ao3) - orphan_account luke/calum N/R, 15k

Summary: Calum has to find a way to pull his band back together or jump ship himself before he drowns along with Luke.

walmart sonata (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum M, 33k

Summary: Luke shakes his head. He doesn’t really understand Calum. What is this beautiful man doing being sweet and kind to him in the Walmart he works at several times a week? Luke’s life doesn’t include things like this. He just smiles at Calum slightly disbelievingly, it’s not like Calum will ever really see him perform. He’s just a hot stranger from his grocery store.

Where You Go, I'll Follow (ao3) -  fourdrunksluts, reversecow calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 211k

Summary: Longsos,  / lŏng·saws /

Noun

A documentation of 5 Seconds of Summer from the very beginning.

*

This story follows Calum, Michael, Luke, and Ashton on their journey to self-discovery. Through first loves, heartbreaks, and friendship, this is the behind the scenes of what the cameras didn't show through the years.

you've got stars, they're in your eyes (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: “You know I love you, yeah? Please never forget that,” Calum finally says, turning his head so his watery eyes meet Luke’s. Luke frowns, running his thumb under one of Calum’s eyes, catching the tiniest bit of liquid on his finger.

“Of course, I love you too,” Luke promises and Calum can feel his heartbeat steadily thumping below his ear. He can feel the warmth of Luke’s skin, the faint puffs of breath coming from his open lips. Calum wants to savor the moment, never to forget again, knowing that after tomorrow he may very well never see Luke again.

Or, Calum leaves 5 Seconds of Summer.