A/N: So here it finally is, a Theo Raeken smut based on the request above. Sorry it took me so long to post it. I’m not sure how I feel about this one but I hope you guys like it. Also sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I still have to proofread it.(:
“What?” Ren’s stance is protective; the big bulk of him spread wide in the space between Brendol and the rest of the world.
“They shot Chumma.” Brendol chances something subtle: presses his weight forward, just hovering behind Ren, lets his arm brush Ren’s back. “The little alien. Hold on.”
Ren shifts enough to let Brendol through, but Brendol can feel him right behind as he quickly skirts the fallen enforcers to the far end of the bay: a hot resonance at his back and the smell of seared blood trailing.
It seems my struggle with tablet continues so I decided to do the linework with pen and paper. This was the moment I absolutely fell in love with the fic when I read it for the first time. Protective Ren being a literal wall that protects Hux from the world, and Hux, even when physically hurt and distraught, still knows how to handle Ren almost instinctively?? I go back to the fic to read bits here and there and every time your characterization amazes me <3
Onew: this grown man will turn into a kid if you suggest cuddling with him. Like even if you’d just lean your head on his shoulder, he’d internally gasp and move himself closer to you. He’d legit plan a time and place for snuggles, so he’s all prepared, just bc he’s so busy and barely had time for you all to himself. He’d curl up with you on the couch and peacefully sigh, wishing he could do this all the time.
Jonghyun: he’s an actual toddler so ofc he’ll jump at the chance to have you pressed up next to him. He’d put on your favorite movies and dramas and you two could spend hours just commenting about the actors lines and faces. Or if he’s feeling romantic, he’d put on some soft music and sway along with you.
Key: kibum is always busy doing who knows what, so you’re really lucky if you could snatch him just for an hour to cuddle. He’d playfully state that he has much more important things to do than to be wasting away the day on the couch. But you could tell he really likes it when you tuck him under your chin and press a kiss to his forehead, making him feel all warm and safe.
Minho: cuddles with him are dangerous bc there’s a 90% chance that he’ll try to turn it into something more. Not that he means to, it just feels really intimate when you’re pressed up against him and little pecks sometimes become very heated makeout sessions. But nonetheless, he’s hella happy to wrap you up in his strong arms and keep you safe from the outside world.
Taemin: a literal plush…pls let me cuddle him too…I’ll pay you. He’ll softly mumble your name in your ear and you’re more than ready to hop on his lap and watch movies while eating snacks. But he’d prefer it when all is quiet, and the only thing that can be heard is the sound of your breathing and his soft voice humming in your ear. Sometimes he’d unwrap his arms from you just to look at your face, and leans in the press a gentle kiss to your lips before wrapping you up against him again.
Okay, here’s one last pre-SPX surprise - Sketches from A Deitch Miscellany by Kim Deitch. See, A Deitch Miscellany is just about sold-out, and that book is way too expensive and labor-intensive to do a second printing. Still, we wanted to have something by Kim that we could keep in print and take to shows and stuff, so we went ahead and made a standalone publication of the sketchbook portion of Miscellany.
Simpler, sure, but no less nice - each book is bound in Hahnemuhle heavyweight watercolor paper with a full-bleed giclee of one of Kim’s sketches. The guts are printed on the same heavy Mohawk paper, and everything is sewn up with green Irish linen thread. All this for only $20.
Come find us at table W56 and for this book and a bunch of other stuff.
She asks her if she’ll come over later, and it’s all Bernie can
do not to fall apart.
Her mouth feels like cotton wool. Her mouth taste like tobacco
and endless cups of coffee, and her body is wound tight and pulled apart, all
at once, a collection of aching limbs upright in squeaky shoes. She wants to
cry. She wants to sleep for a week. She wants to run away, run far away. She wants to close the distance between
herself and Serena (sitting to tie the laces of her running shoes) wants to
crawl into her lap, smooth the low slump of her shoulder, smooth the lines that
form, stay, at the top of her nose, with her fingers, with her mouth.
requested by anon <3 prompt;
you’ve suddenly started wearing make up and making more of an effort then you use to and are getting attention from a lot more boys then usual. Problem. You’re still a pretty awkward person. Though, meeting young Magneto may change your life upside down.
a/n; he is very hot
attention is…ravishing, yet your awkward demeanor and loopy smile is what gives
away that you are completely not used to it. Wearing makeup as a sort of battle
armor to gain more confidence was an inspiring idea at first, but now, as you
politely listen to the same man drone on and on about your astounding beauty
(you know he would not think so if he was to phantom what eyeliner is) for the
past hour or so, you regretted ever leaving the house. The main problem is you are
too awkward to tell him to sod off, and waiting for a savior is your only
chance of survival. You press a fake smile to your lips, nodding, trying to
direct your attention at anything else but the grinning man on the other side
of the table. The dinner is full. Perhaps it is because it’s late and people
are out for a drink. You take a sip of yours – granted, at least it was free.
Should you lie and say you are going to ‘powder your nose’? Perhaps fake a phone
call? Maybe you should just go to the counter, sneak into the kitchen and
escape through the back door…
think the lady has had enough of compliments for one night, what do you say?”
The unfamiliar low voice startles you and you blink, glancing to the side with
a taller man had landed his hand on your Romeo’s shoulder. You gulp. He sure is
a sight for sore eyes. Your Romeo frowns and his mood turns sour in an instant,
and though he seems ready to bite back something stops him, you hope it is
common sense, and he retreats, raises his hands to show ‘no harm done’ and
reciting his best pick up line takes his drink and leaves to bother another
lady for the night. The stranger, or your savior, seems amused though says
little, only a quiet ‘May I take a seat?’ and for whatever damned reason you
let him. Your plans of escaping fly out the window, but you are not distraught.
Instead, you lean back in the comfy seat and prepare your ears for another ray
of empty compliments you don’t know how to reply to – what did the girls on the
TV screen do in these types of situations? Wink? Laugh? Flirt? Neither seemed
like valid options at the moment.
something on your face.” He says, instantly making your cheeks burn in alarm
and embarrassment. You lean out, your lips open to form words but again, you
halt, your voice strings seem clogged and unreachable, no words form and you
hope it’s not some silly zit he is about to point out, “I say it’s…” He catches
your gaze and you draw blank, “Cake mixture.” You blink, “Cherry schnapps on
your lips… I’m by no means an expert, but…I’d like to think you’d look much
better without any of it.“
maybe I can show you how I look without it sometime.” You cheer mentally –
though the words are crooked and uneven in tone, ranging from cockiness to
severe uncertainty, your reply is a number one hit on the ‘Flirt List’. The corner
of his lip curls into a smirk.
be looking forward to it, then. And what should I call you?”
He recites the name as if to test the way it rolls off his tongue, “I’ll keep
that in mind.”
This is long overdue, but I wanted to continue the step-by-step process of binding the deluxe edition of A Deitch Miscellany. The first part was chronicled in a video post, and it documented how I made the hardcover case that forms the main body of the book. In this post, I’ll go through the finishing steps on the case, including adding one of page blocks.
0. First, the front cover needs to go on. The only reason I didn’t do this step in the video is that I didn’t have the printed covers back from Bill at Bottle of Smoke Press, who did all the letterpress printing for this edition. (The delay was my fault, not his - Bill works at the pace of a cheetah on meth.) This is how the outside of the case looks with the cover attached:
1. Next, the spine on the inside needs to be covered. This step actually led to some problems, due to the size and binding design of the book. The book needs to lay completely flat, since it’s so large that it isn’t practical to hold like you would a normal book. I could go into detail why the particular design used on this book makes this process harder than it should be, but I know deep down that you don’t care. To jump to the conclusion, I ended up using very thin Japanese kozo paper, since it’s supple enough to sit flat along the spine when the book is open without buckling when you close the covers. That’s what the #1 arrow is pointing to.
2. Because I didn’t love the way the kozo paper looked, I wanted it only to be visible along the spine itself, so I covered the area where it would otherwise be exposed with a strip of gray Ingres paper. That’s what the #2 arrow is pointing to.
3. Now, one of the page blocks can go in. This is a section of 8 pages with a sewn binding, and it holds the large format color prints that were included loose in a pocket inside the trade edition. Because I decided to have the prints be removable for framing, I mounted all the prints using archival photo corners, which you can see in the photo.
4. Next, I put another sheet of gray paper opposite the page block (covering the brown part). However, there’s no photo, since I still didn’t have the covers back when I did this photo set, meaning I had to wait to put the front cover on before I covered the insde. So just imagine that it’s there.
5. Now it’s time to start the process of adding in the triptych, which is a double-sided 3-panel structure with the color pages of Sex Drugs and Sweet Music! on one side and the black and white pages on the reverse. I’ll cover making the triptych in another post, since it’s probably the single most labor-intensive part of this book. However, the triptych needs to be attached to the book somehow… and that somehow is by sewing and anchor panel into the spine on which the triptych will be mounted. So, to do that, I need to plan where the holes will be punched using a guide. There are two goals here - first, to sew the anchor in securely enough that it can hold the triptych, which is pretty heavy, and second, to leave room for a spine label. So, I folded the guide in half to get a center line and then measured a few inches out on each side to create the area for the spine label. Then, in the sections above and below the spine label area, I measured out seven holes (since two seven hole pamphlet stiches will be pretty strong).
6. The anchor itsef is Fabriano CMF Ingres paper (the same gray paper that’s all over the place on this book), but Ingres isn’t strong enough on its own, so I reinforced it with a strip of starched bookcloth. Since the starched bookcloth is tear-resistant, it provides an extra layer of insurance that the anchor won’t pull out from the book. Still, if you buy one of these, it’s probably not a good idea to play tug of war with it or something.
7. Now, all the anchors need to be punched according to the guide.
8. Then I use the guide to mark the punch locations on the spine in pencil and used my awl to punch the holes. (Note to any bookbinders in the audience - I have found that a pin vise holding the same sewing needle that I use for actual sewing yields a more consistent and neater result than an awl that may be too big or too small.) I use an eraser underneath the book to give me something to punch into.
9. After that, it’s time to sew. Once the anchor is sewn in, it looks like this:
(Note: eagle-eyed readers will notice that the copy in the last three photos doesn’t have that strip of gray paper covering the kozo paper. This photo set is actually of two separate copies, and the copy without the gray strip is a one-off.)
Okay, that’s it so far! Up next is the constrution/mounting of the triptych and the final assembly. Getting close now!
I got this request from @amanda13parker this is actually a plot she had in her mind and asked me to write and I was more than happy to do this. The character and plot was her, I literally just filled in words, thank you for letting me do this for you, love 🖤
I never wanted to be here, but I am and as the time passes I think I sort of like it, like him.
I’m a scientist, was, I don’t know, maybe I’m a mad scientist now.
I used to try and create cures in a white lab and now I’m under The Jokers house in a basement creating deadly viruses.
I’ve come to find out, I’m good at both.
He came after me a few times and I rejected him, not in my best interest, the man doesn’t take no for an answer. The next time he came down to the lab he killed everyone there, except me. He had his men blindfold me and drag me to a van, it was freezing outside, I remember that much.
He didn’t do much torturing though, he knew I needed to remember everything, I needed to know what I was doing and I needed my focus.
In a sense I’m a prisoner but I wouldn’t leave given the option.
I live here, upstairs in the room next to his, which at times is not that quiet and I’ve had nights where thinking of him, him and me, I’m not so quiet either.
The Joker, Mr. J is what he prefers from me, has made passes at me, at least that’s what it seems like. Even though he’s like that with just about everyone.
When he comes into the lab I don’t let him touch anything and he respects that but he has to have his hands on something and that’s usually my waist.
He stands behind me as I’m in a full white lab coat and he sets his hands lightly on my waist, I can feel the cool temperature of his hands through the coat and through my slip underneath.
Since I realized I might have something for this green haired man I never go a day without something black or something lace underneath my coat with a white slip over it. When he touches me the sensation is times ten just knowing I’m ready for him at any time, but I would never tell him that.
“What do we have here.” The sound of his cane and heavy feet startle me and I almost drop one of the glass tubes.
“Just some lab work Mr. J. Just a casual Friday.” I smirk but keep my eyes focused on my work.
He runs his hands above my work, being careful to not touch anything, I watch him from the corner of my eye till he makes his way behind me.
‘Again, he’s going to do this again. It’s such a tease and I get so frustrated.’ I’m yelling at him in my mind. I know what he’s capable of and I know what I’m capable of.
He’s got his ways without me but he’s also got a lot of ways with me.
He’s hands rest on my waist again, the feeling sending a chill through my body. A breath leaves my lips as he leans over my shoulder, I can smell him, I can almost taste him.
“What if we switch up casual Friday doll.” His voice is a low whisper in my ear and I can’t help but press my thighs together.
“What, uh did you have in mind Mr. J?” I swallow hard after the words come out.
He lets a hum out in my ear and his hands move up my waist, my hands hold onto the metal table I’m working on. He doesn’t say a word as he presses his hips towards me and I can feel how hard he is.
It’s usually a touch and go with him, this is different. My knee gives out as he presses against me and he catches me by grabbing me tighter.
“When was the last time?” He purrs.
I know what he’s asking but I’m finding it hard to find my voice, I swallow hard again and let out a deep breath as he presses his knee between my legs behind me.
“With someone, before I came here.” Which was over two years ago, a shaky breath leaves my lips as his knee slips further up.
He grabs my lab coat and lifts it enough so his knee can fit between my legs, he puts his hands on he metal table next to mine and he lifts his knee.
“You’re fucking soaked.” He groans in my ear.
He takes one hand off the table and moves my hair from my shoulder and gently kisses the skin there, he grazes his metal grill against my neck and bites my shoulder softly. My knuckles are white from holding onto the table so hard, my stomach is already swirling.
He lifts his knee so it’s pressing against my center and his hands go back next to mine as he grinds his knee up into me, I can feel his hard dick pressed up against me each time he moves up.
“F-fuck.” The word barley comes out, my mouth hung open from the feeling, its overwhelming.
I begin slowly moving my hips against him and I let out a moan, my knees feel weak already, my heart is pounding and I’m already close to my climax.
He presses his lips to my ear and growls, he holds himself pressed against me and flexes his dick and I let out a slight whimper. I grind on his leg, my hips pushing further back like I need more of him, I have no rhythm and no form because I’m already so close to coming on his leg, I can feel the jean fabric against my thighs and his heavy breathing in my ear.
I can’t take it any longer and I let out a loud moan as my body moves with each wave of ecstasy that rushes over me, my breathing rigid. My legs are weak and I’m holding myself up mostly by my arms as my hips slowly rock on his leg, letting me enjoy each and every small and big wave that comes through.
My head falls forward as his knee leaves from between my legs, I can feel myself dripping down my thighs and I let out a deep breath.
“We’re not done baby girl.” He grabs my wrist and tosses me against the wall in the basement, my head hitting the wall first.
“What that he’ll, Mr. J!” My legs still weak as I fall the the ground, my hand dabs the part of my head that was hit and my fingers have blood on them.
I go to stand up, using the wall as support but I’m brought back down as he kicks my legs out from under me, I let out a small scream as I fall again, the spot where his foot hit is throbbing, tears are making their way up but I fight them down. He comes over and laughs, that infamous cackling laugh in my face and grabs my hair pulling me to my feet.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long.” He growls and he presses my chest up against the wall. His hand moving from my hair to the center of my back.
My mind is so torn, the last time he hit me was in the beginning when I was leaning the rules, I must of done something wrong but I’m not paying attention to that right now, I’ve been wanting this, him, for a long time now.
He pulls my lab coat off by grabbing the collar from behind and ripping it down, the buttons don’t stand a chance.
He presses his dick up against me again and I moan, wanting him, needing him.
His hand reaching around my throat as his other hand unfastens his pants, I feel him, his warm dick against the back of my thigh.
“Whats this? Were you waiting for me?” He rolls his head back and pulls a knife out from
His shirt and cuts my slip, the tip of his knife leaving a red trail down my spine.
Another deep breath and slight moan comes from my lips, I hear the knife get dropped and he tears the lace underwear off from the back and drops them by the knife.
I pressed his tip though my slit by pressing my hips back, and I’m digging my nails into the basement wall in anticipation.
The anticipation doesn’t last long as he moves behind me and thrust his hips hard and I let out a scream, he doesn’t wait for me to adjust to pick up his pace, his hand in my hair extending my neck as far as it will go back.
After a few seconds I do finally adjust to him, I can hear how wet I am with his every thrust that only seems to get harder. My screams and groans turn into loud moans of need for more. He’s relentless, the sound of his hips hitting my ass grow louder, and my nails are cracking as I dig them harder into the wall.
“Don’t come you fucking slut! I hear you at night, I know exactly how long you can last.” He pulls my head back by my hair till my back is arched and my head is resting on his shoulder.
A wave is already going through me from his words, the hair on my arms is standing up and I let out another scream, this time it’s his name.
He doesn’t hesitate, he goes faster, I’m trying to keep my footing but my hips against the wall is my only support. My stomach is rolling and my mind is going hazy as my eyes close and my hips get pressed harder into the wall.
I hear him shuffle in his shirt and he pulls out a smaller knife, he digs this one into my exposed shoulder and carved a J in it, slowly.
It’s a combination of screams and groans, the pain adding to the fire I feel in my body, I can smell the blood from my shoulder and realize it is deeper than I thought.
He growls and licks the new carved letter and it stings and I cry out while he laughs behind me and only goes harder.
My mind trying to make sense of everything, the mixed pain in my shoulder and swirling in my stomach, the way he threw me and the words he’s said have my whole body in shambles.
I don’t have to say a word and I feel him slow down as his dick twitches inside me, the sensations taking me far over my climax, I take it as a sign and I clench around him, wanting to bring my head forward but I can’t, I moan his name again and again as I reach my climax and come back down slowly.
He steps back from me and I stumble to the ground, my head spinning and my stomach still giving off a flexing feeling.
“You’re so easy.” He laughs, adjusting himself in his pants, “But you’re so fucking good.” He groans and palms himself.
He walks out of the basement and leaves me on the floor. I lean my head against the wall and waist a few minutes before getting up, I put on what’s left of my lab coat and find some safety pins to hold it together the best I can.
I go back to working, knowing some of these chemicals can’t be left out too long before they start effecting me.
I clean up the lab slowly, my legs take a few minutes to adjust and my knees still give out once or twice but I finally walk up the stairs and look around before running into my bedroom.
I hear Mr. J next door, I can’t make out the words but he sounds upset. I rinse off in the shower connected to my room and change into a small black dress for dinner.
Mr. J requires me to dress up for dinner, even if he’s not here and eat every night at the dining room table, I hate it, but I do it .
I slip on a pair of red heels and walk down to the dinner table, I sit and wait, wondering if he will even be here tonight.
The cane gives him away first, I hear him walking down and he takes a seat next to me. After what happened, I can’t help but give him a smirk and I blush red.
“Don’t.” His hand comes across my face and then he grabs my chin tight and makes me look at him, my eyes watering, “Don’t think you’re anything special sweetheart.” He pushes my face away.
I put my hand to my face and a few tears fall down my cheek but I catch myself and sit up straight, “Just kill me Mr. J, if you’ve got nothing else for me, if I’m nothing to you after all this time,” I stand up and slam the glass plate against the table, smashing it into pieces between my hands, “Then do it.” I lean in close to his face and spit.
I grab a piece of the broken plate and walk back into my bedroom. I suppress the tears and push them back down to boil.
Mr. J and I have had two years together, we have had a lot of late nights together, he’s told me things and I don’t think he meant to but he did and he never took them back. He’s never had to threaten me to keep quiet, he knows I’m devoted to him, to my work.
His sexual passes were slim but the passes of him caring about me were there.
He’s been protective of me, killing guards because they try getting a little too close, making sure I’m well taken care of, he has a hard time asking if I need anything so instead he gets me everything. He’s taken me out, his hand never leaving my back, his eyes never leaving me.
I’ve helped him sober up after many drunk nights where he’s spilled secrets I’d take with me to my grave, he’s more complex than he leads on to be.
I know he can’t say he loves me, I don’t know if I would even call it love from his end but it’s something. I know he feels something.
I curl up in my bed, laying on top of the blankets and holding the piece of plate under the pillow. My eyes are heavy and I let them close.
“I can’t live without loving you.”
Those are the words I woke up to, Mr. J’s arm around me and his head resting on the pillow behind me. I let out a sigh and put my hand over his.
“You don’t need to say anything else.” I keep my voice a whisper.
“I do though.” His words are soft but I feel the head of his pistol against the back of my head.
I can’t help but let a few tears fall, he can’t live without loving me, so he would rather live without someone to love.
He’s so much sicker than people think.
“Just let me go.” I whisper, wanting out of his arms.
“I am.” His voice is lower.
“You’re such a selfish motherfucker.” I let a few more tears fall and take a deep breath as I hear him cock the gun.
“I love you Amanda.” The gun goes off.
It’s silent, until his own screams echoing though the house, my blood spread across his face and the bedroom. He kisses the J he carved into my shoulder hours ago. Pulling my lifeless body closer to him he whispers 'sorry’ over again and again.
He won’t ever admit to making a mistake but he understands the saying “You don’t know what you have till it’s gone.” on a deeper level now.
And Gotham will suffer from his guilty conscience till his last breath.
SasuSaku Festival 2017 . Day 03- Her Intimates . Title: Her Uchiha Butt . Summary: It’s date night for the Uchiha couple, and he’s surprised to see her dressed in nothing but his shirt and panties when he arrives at their cottage. She looks incredibly good like that, but there’s a problem hovering over her lower cheeks. What is that symbol doing there? . A/N: Okay, this idea came up after I saw a fan art on tumblr, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about that! It’s supposed to be a funny, cute one, and I’m quite happy with the way it turned out! I hope you like it as much as I did! Enjoy the story, and please, tell me your opinion! . . . The moment he enters their rented cottage, Uchiha Sasuke already knows she hasn’t forgotten his promise.
All the lights are on, save for the ones from the kitchen. The sight of an empty table, ridden of that mess of medical scrolls and empty cups of coffee, tells him that his wife’s mind is anywhere but stuck in work on this warm, summer night. The atmosphere inside the cottage is light, as the soothing air of the Hidden Mist fills his lungs and moistens his dark hair. It is, indeed, the perfect night for a romantic date. And thanks to such perfect conditions, he knows there is no way he will be able to escape Uchiha Sakura’s plans.
For as much as he hates to admit, the original idea of going out tonight came from his own, grumpy lips. Lately, she has been exhausting herself more than she usually does, and for he has also been busy with his own meetings, Sasuke didn’t have the chance to press her stop button at least once or twice a week. They are both busy with their own personal missions, and it has been long since the last time they have spent some quality couple time alone.
And if he were to be honest with himself, he misses that time as much as she does.
He also wants to spend some time with his pink haired Uchiha, but he doesn’t want to leave the cottage for that. Not after spending 4 hours inside an office with the Mizukage, listening to her harsh words and insecurities regarding her future.
Sasuke just wants to lay down and sleep, as every worn out adult should want after arriving home.
But he can’t cancel his plans with his wife. Not when she seems to be so excited about it.
John Cage 10 Stones 2 1989 Spitbite
Aquatint and sugarlift 22.75 x 18.13 inches
At the heart of the work he produced at Crown Point is a series of prints and drawings inspired by the Ryoanji garden in Kyoto, Japan’s most celebrated Zen garden, composed of 15 stones arranged in five mossy islands against a ground of raked gravel. Cage’s prints and drawings, begun in 1983, required him to draw (first with a metal drypoint tool, later in pencil) around the perimeters of 15 stones whose positions on the etching plate or paper were determined by chance. In homage to the restricted space of the Japanese garden, and once more demonstrating his love of delimitation, Cage did not allow any of the stones to cross the edge of the plate, so that the resulting prints look chaotic and serene at the same time, the artist’s line orbiting unpredictably within the rules. The drawings are more tentative and fragile, the pencilled ghosts of the stones sometimes barely insisting on the paper. Later (seen here), Cage extended his practice of drawing around stones at another print workshop at Mountain Lake, Virginia. Here, he painted in watercolour around larger stones taken from a river bed, using feathers for brushes and again producing unpredictable ellipses within a highly structured situation- turned into further aquatint prints at Crown Point.
Part of my Gran’s actual planting area, it’s overwhelming! Will cover the anthurium/orchid area another time!
Another stunning submission! Your Gran’s plants are out of this world! She’s really created something great that’s awesome you enjoy it also!!
Ps can you resubmit me the other photos by any chance I pressed delete instead of edit by accident. Thanks again!
Just a random thing for favorite parts in Undertale :v
Alphys hiding herself with the amalgamates below because of how ashamed she was brings out an important part afterwards because she knows that even with what she feels is something unforgivable she’s done, she can rely on people she trusts. She doesn’t have to hurt herself by keeping it all inside and her she can tell others when she feels ready to.
When Papyrus had basically put all his faith into me in the genocide run that I could change and he was giving me a chance, I really did press the spare button and reset over to do the ‘happy’ run again (pacifist)
He believed so much that you could still change and learn from your past mistakes and continue forward in the 'life’ there. That’s just something I’ve learned to keep in mind here too because it’s actually a really important thing to keep in mind.
Undyne’s date when you point the spear at her-
Asriel’s scenes. All of them. My hea r t- He didn’t do anything wrong, he stuck by his morals, tried to help the fallen human, etc.! This is the future he gets?
Mettaton on the call with blooky and seeming disappointed when the other hangs up ;;
HECKING ITS A SNOWDECAHEDRON JEE Z-
The lost soul part with Asgore and Toriel was heartbreaking because you could see almost every constant thought they’d had and aaaaaaa???
“In the comics, there’s a, again, I don’t know how much further you’ve read, but there’s a period of time where Bucky takes the shield and becomes Captain America. Do you think you’d be possibly ready to take that on if that happens somewhere down the line in the Marvel films?” (x)
See? This is one of the, er… things I love… no, like about Sebastian Stan, his, er… snap-to efficiency and… er… concise way to… express, his clarity and his way to, er, get to the point, and… er…just get it out there, his views, and his… feelings about the… big questions.