#why must you be a dumbass

[mocha-gladiator]

smh

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #102

When Flash first overhears Peter talking about the "Stark Internship," he rolls his eyes and thinks, "Of course he'd go with that excuse at Midtown School of Science and Technology."

Whatever. Flash knows the truth. He's seen the car that Parker gets picked up in, seen the body guard / chauffeur and the absolutely insane amount of discrete safety tech he always has on. Flash is convinced that the whole orphan thing is just a cover story and Peter secretly has parents at least as rich and influential as Flash's own.

Maybe they're politicians or the mob or something, and that's why all the secrecy. Honestly, Flash is doing him a favor by bullying him all the time for being an unimportant orphan. It's the perfect cover. Maybe he'll even drop the ridiculous Stark Industries lie and come up with a more believable backstory soon.

Then, one day Flash and Peter end up in a kidnapping situation.

The kidnappers take Flash's watch, but they leave some of Peter's tech since it's better hidden. As soon as they're alone, Flash expects Peter to hit that panic button and get them the hell out of there.

Only... he doesn't? Did Peter learn nothing from K&R training? Flash reaches over and hits the secret panic button 3 times immediately, no hesitation. Peter is shocked. Flash is like, "Oh come on, I obviously know your secret."

He's kind of curious and excited now to see who Peter's secret parents are, once the cops get them out of there.

He is not at all prepared when Iron Man bursts through the door.

He's even less prepared when Tony Stark steps out of the suit and totally freaks out at Peter, hugging him and checking for injuries.

... maybe he's finally met Peter's secret parent after all.

[forgottenarthur]

Eithne/Arthur - “ why are you looking at me like that? ”

flashback

Arthur looked quickly away at the sound of her words. He rubbed the back of his neck. Bit out a self-conscious laugh.

The day was gorgeous, the sun streaming beyond a canopy of gently waving trees. All around them, the field was bursting with wild grasses and flowers that seemed to dot the landscape with bursts of vibrant color: her greens mingling with his reds and blues, till the whole world seemed decked out for only them. And amongst all this, ensconced on rugs and pillows stretched out against the roots the sheltering oaks, motes of light filtered between the boughs, bathing Eithne in golden light as she spoke of her beloved Malconaire, her whole face beaming like the sun.

She was transcendant -- at once more a creature of this earth than he could ever be, and yet so untouchably ethereal he held his breath, almost afraid she might melt away at the slightest of breezes. A chorus of birds sang all around her as if they sang with delight just to be near her, and the dappled light wound round her like will-o-the-whisp attendants sighing upon their liege lady. The radiance of the sun was her nimbus, not glowing upon her but, rather, shining because of her and, despite himself, Arthur smiled again, this time a meditative look taking hold of his features as he stole a glance once more at her.

He'd seen her at balls and at tourneys, but as stunning as she was all made up in Roisin's finest glamors, they could not match her natural beauty here in this wild place, so much a part of her that it seemed to breathe as she did, the very wind stirring with her words. Her tresses were all the finer simply framing her face than caught up in a golden net, and Arthur thought that perhaps all that finery appeared garish against the smooth porcelain of her skin, beaming as it did here in serene sunshine. Her eyes blazed an azure so fine he was sure the sky blushed to be compared to a tint so luminous, and her smile, so rosy, seemed to capture the full lustre of the floral hedges that danced in the attendant zephyrs all around them.

Arthur smiled then, arching a soft brow as he looked at her. His voice, when he spoke, was very soft. "I should have thought that obvious."

For a moment, Eithne looked at him and then, suddenly seeming to catch his meaning, or perhaps -- he hoped -- thinking something similar herself, she colored slightly and looked away. "You mustn't say such foolish things, Arthur. Anyone might think you meant them."

"It would showcase their wisdom."

Laughing, Eithne made herself busy, then, leaning forward to draw a repast from the wicker basket at her knee. Her gown was a simple roughspun, but somehow, out here amongst the gently tilting trees, he did not think anything could have appeared more becoming and, sighing, he gazed heavenward.

"Tell me -- before...before my father," began Arthur, gesturing vaguely, as if to indicate a time before the conquest. "How did you spend days like these?"

Eithne paused in her ministrations, and Arthur was conscious, then, of the weight of her gaze upon him. He smiled, slightly, still looking skyward. "Well...when we could, much like this."

"Oh?"

"But, most often, taking baskets to the village, of course."

Arthur frowned, turning to look at her, then. "Are...are they fond of...wicker?"

She laughed. His confusion did not dissipate. It was Eithne's turn to look quizzical. "Do...I don't suppose you take baskets to people? Or...or perhaps your sisters? Your mother and stepmother?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know that most people in the Empire have much...inclination towards--" he shrugged, gaze sliding to the basket at her knee. "Baskets. They're useful, certainly, but--"

"No, it's not--we don't take empty baskets."

Arthur shook his head, shrugging.

"They're filled with goods. Gifts. Bread and cheese and lettuce and jams and...anything that might help those...less well off."

"So...its some form of...charity?"

"Yes! Precisely."

Arthur frowned at the basket before them, doubt churning inside him. Then, a moment, and he pointed. "And? Is...this...charity?"

"What?"

"I just--It's a basket."

Laughing suddenly, Eithne set a plate with cheese and cold chicken before him. "In this case, it's hospitality. I daresay, you're better off than I am, or don't they feed imperial princes?" she teased, grinning.

Laughing, Arthur watched her laughter, her whole face seeming to somehow brighten even further as her limpid eyes danced. Somewhere deep in his belly, Arthur felt warmth suffuse him, something bright and briliant blooming in his chest as he joined her in laughter. "Why do you think we all come here so very often?"

"I did not imagine you came as beggars."

Arthur paused, watched the merriness in her face. It seemed to him the birds were singing more quietly now, as if they were alone in all the world, with no other earlthy creature to witness. This moment was theirs. "Any man, even a prince, is a beggar before someone like you." I didn't think someone like you could exist... he thought.

She frowned. "You make me sound a tyrant."

He shook his head, sat up a little straighter. "No, I..." he shrugged, sighing. "Eithne, what I mean is...There's no one else in the world like you. No one. Anywhere, and..." he shrugged, laughed. "I would know. I've been most places in the world, after all, and...You've no equal, Eithne. No rival. To know you is to wish to know you better. To be with you is to wish never to be parted." Arthur sighed, then, self-conscious, shrugged. "I'm not much with words, Eithne...I just mean there is no one like you. You're the sort of woman a man would beg, borrow, or steal just to please but, despite it all, I know that...My father may own half the world, but that won't make you mine. I could shower you with gems and you'd frown just," he laughed. "Just as you do now at the idea. Riches aren't what matter to you so...we're all beggars. You see? I've got nothing you want. And that's...that's something I've never encountered before."

"You're wrong!" blurted Eithne.

Arthur frowned. "I--"

"You do have something I want."

"What is it? It's yours, I--"

"Oh, hush," whispered Eithne and, leaning close, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There," she said, smiling, a blush blooming upon her cheeks as she leaned back again.

"Oh no you don't," chuckled Arthur, one hand slipping into the veil of her hair to cradle her neck as he leaned close. Her lips were soft as roses petals. Her breath was a warm zephyr. And her eyes, when he opened his own to see them, were brighter than the whole sky.

[squipedmew]

Yooooo

YOOOOOOO

Mans just straight up DECKED HIM. Absolutely zero questions, it was ON SIGHT. He really went “vlog these hands shitass”

[spamlets]

“you do things to me.”

TR: I hate you.

DF: I know.

TR: I want you dead.

DF: I know.

TR: One day, I’ll be the cause of your collapse.

DF: I know.

TR: I hate you, I’ll kill you, I’ll sabotage everything you stand for—

DF: I know.

DF: I love you.

TR: …

TR: I know.

[reinabeestudio]

Tfw the wind blows your hat away AGAIN and you gotta go find it in the middle of a blizzard atop a mountain by yourself

[forcebookish]

as much as i'd like to see forcebook play their ages, i don't really mind them playing 18-22 year olds because i can easily forgive a lot of shitty behavior in that age group. it's a really rough time in your life, often your first time out on your own, when you might not quite grasp how dire the consequences of your actions can be because you won't "get in trouble." when you're graduating from Teenhood, there's sometimes a learning curve with "my parents ragged on me about X just because they're parents" to "oh they actually did know better i shouldn't do that shit" - sometimes you have to learn that on your own. add alcohol, the pressure of college, shifting identities, etc., it's a good recipe for some nice 'n' easy character development.

[pastriibunz]

we do NOT like Kai’s bio parents in this household

so much so they don’t even GET designs thats how much we don’t like them

[special thanks to @local-soda-can for helping write this :3]

[ceasarslegion]

The leftism leaving peoples bodies when you tell them that literal terrorist organizations arent the good guys just because theyre against a bad guy

[jaggedwolf]

okay so I've been binging CSI: Vegas, because I used to watch a ton of CSI as a kid, and it's alright background television but I keep thinking of it as worse NCIS: Hawai'i. I swear I'm not just saying this because NCIS has Lucy/Whistler. Like,

both shows are 2021 spinoffs of long-running CBS procedurals

whose original shows had lily-white main casts but are now clearly trying to be more diverse

boss lady is a woman of color everyone respects and thinks is a badass, she's divorced with at least one kid

there's an asian woman who is the friendly, spunky one, relatively newer while still being on the A-team

more senior white dude agent who is tight with boss lady

unfortunately, csi is a sequel, and is weighed down by its legacy characters (who I mostly like! Grissom was a childhood fave, and I like listening to Sara's accent), and has 10-12 episode seasons which is a hard spot for a procedural. insufficient to care about the newbie's personal drama while dealing with OGs' as well.

....also no Kai with good shirts and T-shirts. No one on NCIS: Vegas has good fashion. No one.

[cvctuslesbian]

transmisandry cunts have the least interesting views on ~queer masculinity~ ever

[handcat]

back to the dating app 🚶

[lancrewizzard]

Fucking hate how tumblr's follow button is too close to the block option. I want to avoid seeing the bitch's guilt tripping stupid bullshit, not see more of it.

[woodlandscab1n]

Going absolutely insane please I cannot be the only one that finds Leon being sexist in RE4 to be HYSTERICAL, please please tell me someone else finds this SO fucking funny because God, he really IS That pathetic.

Someone WROTE that line thinking this is such a Cool and Edgy thing to say that will make Leon look soooo cool 😭

[aroace-cat-lady]

10:35pm. I'm going to die.

[masquenoire]

Icons Only - Roman can't find his fancy fountain pen and Marg's just no thoughts, starts lifting up heavier furniture with one hand that usually takes two men-

Send "Icons only" and something for my muse to react toAnd I will show my muse's reaction using only icons (1-5) and no text