rocket chairs

clementinecastiel  asked:

How about a little fic where Rocket, Groot, and Tony are geeking out over the Iron Man suit (and Tony can totally understand Groot) while Peter stands off to the side in amusement/joy at the sight of his boyfriend and family being total dorks before joining them in the conversation or just standing behind Tony and wrapping his arms around him and snuggling up while listening to the nerdy engineers go at it?

A/N: This drabble doesn’t contain any plot spoilers for GOTG 2; however, it does spoil an after credit scene. Proceed with caution. 

“Not bad for something made on this backwater planet.” Rocket stroked his chin as he looked over the hologram blueprints for Tony’s latest Iron Man suit. He grabbed one of the suit’s arms and eyed the repulsor. “Could be better though.”

“Excuse you?” Tony said snidely, holding the tablet Peter had given him, which was loaded with as much information on the most badass technology in the universe.

Peter sat back in one of his boyfriend’s lab chairs, sipping what Tony swore was a recreation of the Squeezeit drinks he used to have in his lunchbox when he was a kid. He didn’t remember the drink being so sugary, and he was having a hard time drinking it now.

“I’m not saying you did a bad job. You did as good a job as you could have, considering all you had was crap.”

“I am Groot.” Groot never looked up from his video game. Groot used to be intrigued by Tony’s lab, but ever since Tony banned Groot from playing with anything flammable, Groot had taken to finding a corner in Tony’s lab and playing whatever handheld video game he had in his possession.

“Don’t you start with me, sapling.” Tony wagged his finger at Groot, smiling the whole while. He knew exactly what kind of reaction he was going to get out of the angsty teenager.

“I am Groot!”

“Right, right. You’re not a sapling. How about ‘sprout?’”

“I am Groot!”

Groot hunched his shoulders and glued his gaze onto his video game, refusing to talk to Tony anymore.

Tony chuckled. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that.”

“And to think people call me an asshole. At least I’m not picking on kids.” Rocket picked up a screwdriver from one of Tony’s toolboxes and without any warning started taking apart the armor.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tony flung himself over the top half of the armor. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Rocket shrugged. “What? I’m doing you a favor. I’m upgrading your armor.”

Tony shook his head. “Not without telling me in exact detail what it is you’re going to do.”

Rocket sighed. “Fine. Pull up a chair while I explain it to you, primate.”

Tony grumbled something that Peter was unable to hear from his location, but Tony did as Rocket asked and plopped himself in the nearest chair. Rocket then dragged the hologram showing the blueprint of the armor forward and had the hologram zoom in and out of pieces of the armor Rocket wanted to improve. At first he spoke slowly and deliberately, like he did with Groot when Groot was still young. However, once Tony started butting in with his own thoughts, Rocket picked up the pace, and soon the two were working on building a completely new suit of armor.

The sight of Tony working with Rocket–Peter’s family–warmed something in Peter. He felt like he was high, and he wasn’t going to come down from the rush anytime soon.

He set down his drink and walked over to Tony.

With the sound of his footsteps as his only warning, Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulder from behind.

Tony paused in what he was saying to look behind him. He smiled when he saw it was Peter.

Peter returned the grin, his happiness doubling.

“I am Groot,” Groot groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You’re going to have to learn about the birds and bees some time, kid,” Tony hollered at Groot.

Groot sneered. “I am Groot.”

Tony clutched Peter’s arm and laughed at whatever Groot had said.

The moment was pretty damn close to perfect, and Peter loved it.

Birthday Games

Summary: You try to get Gabriel to play some drinking games for your birthday but things don’t go quite as expected.

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word Count: 6696

Warnings/Tags: smut, swearing, drinking games, intoxication (reader and Gabriel), stripping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, grace kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, perfect body Gabe, a touch of possessive Gabe, fluff  

Author’s Note: Written for @bloodstained-porcelain-doll‘s #Challenge of Raven My prompts were:  “Loser does a striptease!”, Gabriel, and smut.  All tags are at the end.  

Special thanks to @sumara62​ who does such a fantastic job as my beta.  This wouldn’t be what it is without you. 

Originally posted by castiel-left-his-mark-on-me

“How is this supposed to be celebrating again?” Gabriel asked.  

Sam and Dean had forgotten it was your birthday again, heading in the opposite direction to visit Garth rather than returning from their latest hunt to celebrate.  As unashamed as you were about your drinking habits, you drew the line at getting drunk by yourself.  Doing it with a bunch of strangers wasn’t appealing either, which left your options pretty limited until Gabriel happened to pop in to drop off some birthday cookies.  

It had been a pleasant surprise to say the least, and once he was there you weren’t about to let the opportunity go to waste.

“I like drinking games,” you reminded him, your words taking on the slow drawl you got right before you hit the tipping point between tipsy and completely hammered.

“Ok, princess,” sarcasm rippled through tonight’s nickname he’d bestowed upon you, all because you insisted on having fun your way, “But these are all boring.”

One hand came up, toying with the neon pink umbrella decorating his glass, but it was the other hand out of your sight that had you worried.  You could feel the hum of his energy rise behind you, fingertips drifting idly across the top of your chair, brushing you in the process.  

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Four letters with meaning

Read on: | AO3

Akko Kagari was absent-mindedly drumming with her fingers on her Magical Philosophy textbook. Professor Pisces was about to wrap up the round-up lecture, just a minute or so before the clock struck one in the afternoon.

Exam week was just around the corner at Luna Nova, and this was Akko’s final class for the week. During the week before the exams, the students were expected to be studying and summarizing the courses on their own. The regular courses had already finished their classes last week, only the electives had remained yet to do so.

Professor Pisces dismissed her class, and Akko immediately scrambled together her textbook and her other belongings. Magical Philosophy had actually turned out to be one of Akko’s better subjects at Luna Nova. Ever since that whole debacle when Akko had accidentally flushed down her goldfish professor into the drain and had to go find her again in the ocean, and somehow ending up being graded A- for her actions while doing so, Akko had been consistently getting good grades in the subject. Her papers and homework had been getting grades ranging between C+ and A-.

It had actually been an increasingly more common sight to see Akko discussing with the professor before and after the lectures, with her now being nigh-fluent in fish language. Akko didn’t always understand the philosophical concepts that Pisces brought up in those discussions, but she found it exciting to talk with her professor nonetheless. Professor Pisces had also taken a liking to Akko for her ‘not-by-the-book’ approach of the subject, which was rare in her class. All while Akko’s classmates, some of whom had been trying to learn fish language before even enrolling at Luna Nova, were still dumbfounded that Akko had managed to learn fish language in a matter of months.

Akko actually felt pretty relaxed about the Magical Philosophy exam, and Pisces had even reassured her that as long she could make arguments and counterarguments on the topics featured in the exam, she would do fine. However, she felt considerably more stressed out by the first scheduled exam in Transmutation Magic. Akko was still struggling to transmute matter beyond just the basics and failed to arrange more advanced transmutation circles properly. And there was plenty of the learning material she had yet to read.

Since Akko had been visibly anxious about the upcoming exams when she had been spending time together with Diana, Diana had then suggested that they should study together, and that she would help Akko whenever she would need it. Akko had immediately accepted and thanked Diana for her offer, without a doubt feeling instantly relieved that Diana could tutor her. They had promised each other that Akko would meet up with Diana in her dorm room as soon Akko had finished her class today.

So today Akko wouldn’t have any time to chat with Professor Pisces after the class. Akko had hastily left the classroom to go and fetch her Transmutation textbooks. She got halfway down the corridor outside the classroom, before doing a complete u-turn and going towards the other end of corridor. When she and Diana had planned to meet-up, Akko had forgotten to take lunch into consideration.

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Coffee - the highschool Jeffmads + Lams fic nobody asked for and nobody wanted

As the last bell sounded, Tom clenched his fists, pushing them tight against the desk. Half hearted, unnecessarily crude parodies of school anthems rang through the hallways outside. Football season, and no one was going to miss the premier. No one but four.

His thick eyebrows stooped unnecessarily low over his eyes, reducing his surroundings almost to meaningless blurs as his jaw locked in anger. He hated how angry Alexander could make him with just words, like a power he had over him. Moreover, perhaps, he hated that the most he could draw back out from him was a cold glare. Nevertheless, he projected any insult at his disposal at the tiny asshole who stood before him, not even thinking about it. Including ‘tiny asshole’. ‘Shut the fuck up, Alex,’ he spat. What were they actually arguing about? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter though, it never did. Protocol for even being within a 2-metre radius of each other had always been to fight. That’s how things were, and Thomas liked it in a strange, petty kind of way.
‘Woah, harsh words from Thomas, here, did you here that John? I’m shaking,’ mocked Alex.
‘You would know how harsh words can be, right Alex? Considering last term,’ Thomas knew this had struck a chord. Everyone knew what Alex had done to his girlfriend, Eliza. It was obviously still potent and bitter in his memory. Alexander’s stubbled-covered jaw twitched, and a look of - what was that? Embarrassment? - Flashed across his face, which was already streaked with the remains of a night spent writing and sipping cold, bitter coffee. His boyfriend, John, stared at the ground and swung his legs faster, having perched himself on a table nearby. Alex adjusted himself accordingly, leaning against the whiteboard behind Mr. Washington’s desk.
‘I’m sorry Thomas? I didn’t hear you, try taking your head out of your boyfriend’s ass and say that again,’ He snapped. A grin crept across his face; he was more than aware of the weight of his words - words were his best friend. Most of the time. The escalation of the grin into pure glee provided a stark contrast to the look of horror John wore. Through gritted teeth, he leaned forward slowly to whisper into Alex’s ear – ‘Ssh, Al, maybe don’t…just leave it, it’s not worth it.’
Alex shrugged him off, to busy enjoying himself. ‘No, no John it’s fine. I don’t mean anything by it. Do I? Thomas knows. James knows. How can you bear him James? Doesn’t he drive you crazy? Well clearly he did, i mean we all saw last term…’ Alex trailed off, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
Tom stood, silent and rigid for a second. He had felt Jamie’s hand grow cold and stiff in his. Jamie hated being brought into things, he was barely comfortable with people knowing. Meanwhile, Alex had adopted a look of say-something-back-I-dare-you, - arm’s crossed, leaning against the whiteboard. Silence descended, thick and heavy.
Gently, John tugged on Alex’s hand, to no avail. James stared at his feet.
And then Thomas lunged forward, ploughing into Alex and sending them both skidding over the desk and onto the floor. Mr Washington’s papers flew off with them, peppering the floor on which the boys fought. Before anyone could reach out, Thomas was on top of Alexander, grappling at his throat as Alex swung fists at Tom’s jaw. Furious tear’s splashed down onto him from Thomas’ face. ‘Don’t you fucking touch him? Do you hear me? Don’t you fucking talk about James like that. I’ll kill you, you hear me? I don’t give a shit what they’ll do to me. I’ll fucking kill you. Don’t you touch him, I swear I’ll-’
John launched off of the desk and sent a chair rocketing backwards. He dove in to try and retrieve his boyfriend from under Thomas, who was practically foaming at the mouth. James hovered over Tom, not sure what to do, looking extremely uncomfortable – for such a big lad he was always desperate to avoid conflict. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. Eventually, as John’s efforts to free Alexander seemed ineffective, James leaned down cautiously and put his arm around Tom (who was still trying to throttle Alex. John could do little more than tug on Alex’s free arm, and mainly yelled a string of timid profanities). Immediately Tom relaxed, as his boyfriend coaxed him off of the boy beneath him and into his arms gently. His face was wet and hot and streaked with tears as he lingered over him, before collapsing back. Alex pulled out from under his legs and began to sneer, before John grabbed his hand and half pushed him, half dragged him out of the classroom. Alex shook his head gently, muttering things under his breath ‘Crazy. He’s crazy. I could report him. Fucking asshole.’ John caught wind of the mutterings and shot Alexander a look of shame and rage. The classroom door slammed behind him.

The remaining boys turned back to each other, silently communicating. Eventually, James pulled Thomas into his arms, as Tom buried his face in his chest. He was still crying, but not the wet, angry way he had been before. Jamie moved back to study Thomas, who frowned back, tear’s brimming and pushing against his long, dark eyelashes. James planted one, soft kiss on Thomas’s forehead. His lips were chapped from the bitter winds that had harassed their little town since September. Thomas didn’t care - he felt his stomach lurch in a good, warm way. He knew this was special, he knew, because he did know James, that he wasn’t usually like this. In control. Affectionate. Comfortable about it. James buried his own chin in the fuzzy depths of his boyfriends hair. The two boys stayed like that, entwined, for quite a while.
‘He can’t fucking talk to you like that Jamie. He can’t. I won’t let him.’ Thomas choked out into James’ front.
James shook his head gently, sighing. 'I don’t care what he says about me. This has gotta stop, Tom. He says these things, and, and you get angry and go for him. It’s stupid. If he can get you to do that, he wins. He gets what he wants. You have to ignore it sometimes. You don’t have to fight him all the time, or fight for us.’
‘So, so what are you saying?’
James hesitated for a moment, before closing his eyes.
‘I’m saying that I can do some of the fighting from now on.’
It’s bad?? I know?? But i might as well share it?? Do you want more?? I have more?? The next part is from hams POV?? I’ll take requests???

The Price

Rocket Raccoon x Reader.

Originally posted by dameeron

A/N: So, it took me ages to finish writing this and edit it because I hated it haha, hopefully, this will be the last piece of work I post that is un-beta’d. If you would like to be added to my Marvel taglist or just my Rocket Raccoon taglist, let me know! I’m not sure how the characters worked out, are they in character or not? I’ve never written for Guardians of the Galaxy before so i’m just experimenting at the moment. Feedback would be appreciated! Anyway, my requests are open and I hope you enjoy this! 

Warnings: none

Word count: 1334

The Price;

Your eyes searched the destruction as the ashes that were once, Ronan the Destroyer, drifted away with the breeze. The “Guardians of the Galaxy” were all sat around, exhausted. You turned to your appointed maids and asked them for food and water to be brought. They were hesitant to leave your side but a stern look from you sent them on their way.

Your long dress hindered you as you climbed across the debris from the wreckage. The closer you came, the more you saw. The Terran man was fiddling with a device that played music, if you remembered correctly.

“Excuse me, Mr Star-Lord,” you called out, slipping a little as you finally joined him. His head shot up, as did the others.

“Uh, it’s Quill, actually. Peter Quill,” he corrected you before noticing your ensemble. “I’m sorry, your majesty, I-” You cut off his unnecessary apology.

“Mr Quill, you have no reason to apologise, in fact, I must thank you. You and your friends have done something for the Galaxy that can never be repaid,” you told him honestly.

“If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Peter thought it over and knew you were a princess with many abilities. He looked over at Rocket and then turned back to you.

“Groot, he protected us…”

You smiled softly. “Say no more,” you told him, carefully making your way past the other guardians to the enhanced mammal. He was holding a stick, seemingly the only thing left of his friend. He looked up at you, tears shining in his eyes. You knelt down on the ground next to him, uncaring of your now ruined dress.

Rocket looked at you with shock, no having expected someone well known as royalty to kneel on the dirty ground with someone like him.

“You should not despair, little one, his sacrifice will be honoured,” you promised him, reaching up to place your hand on his head and delicately stroke the fur.

You brought your other hand up the last piece of the sentient tree and ran a finger across the smooth wood, your essence began to flow through it, bathing it in a soft light before it finally dimmed.

“What was that?” Rocket asked, clutching the stick tighter. You smiled softly at him and used your magic to conjure a small pot, you scooped up some dirt from the ground and presented it to him. He glanced at you before awkwardly taking the pot and placed the stick into it.

“It will take some time, but you will have your friend back.”

“I…uh, thanks toots,” he replied awkwardly before realising what he’d called you.

You laughed amused at how different these people were to your own.  

“Your majesty?!” a shocked voice gasped. You turned and saw one of your maids staring at the last part of Groot that was glowing with the light of life.

“My lady, what have you done?”

You sighed and stood, facing her. “Miatawa, it is alright,” you shushed her.

“Woah, what’s she talking about? What did you do?” Rocket questioned.

You took the tray that Miatawa was holding and dismissed her, turning to the Guardians and offering them food and drink.

“Her magic comes with a price,” Gamora told them, eyeing her with curiosity and something almost akin to pity.

“What price?” Rocket demanded.

“A price only I will have to pay, it is not important,” you tell them. “Mr Quill, once your wounds have been tended to, I would like to meet with you in my chambers.”

Peter frowns but nods. “Of course, your majesty.”

You bid the Guardians farewell and returned to helping others that had been injured in the attack. 

The door to your chambers opened quietly and a confused Peter Quill edged into the room hesitantly.

“Mr Quill, please, come in,” you motioned him forward. He approached your place on the window seat and sat next to you.

You wasted no time getting the point of your meeting.

“You were able to hold an infinity stone in your hand and lived.”

“Well, it wasn’t just me, but yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

You watched him, trying to identify that power inside of him.

“You’re not entirely Terran, might I ask what the other part of your heritage is?” You asked cautiously, knowing that some beings were very sensitive about such personal things.

“I don’t know. My mom always told me that my dad was an angel, but she…” he paused. “I never got to ask about him before Yondu kidnapped me.”

You placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder before a thought struck you.

“Peter… If I may,” you started. “I may have something that will be able to help you, should you choose to use it.”

You gathered your strength and your magic and focused on the energy radiating from him and Peter watched as a clear orb grew from nothing between your palms.

“What is it? Looks like a pale version of Pacman,” Peter noted. You raised an eyebrow.


Peter searched for an explanation before deciding not to bother. “What’s that supposed to do?”

You held the orb out to him as he took it with a wince, expecting it to hurt or something. You laughed. “I used the essence of your father and his DNA, this should glow blue when you are close.”

“I’m sorry I cannot give you something more helpful-”

“No!” Peter cried out. “No, this… this is amazing.”

You were surprised to see tears welling in his eyes, but he was smiling at you.

“Thank you.”

“I told you, you did something for the galaxy that can not ever be repaid, this is my gift to you,” you told him as you stood and guided him to the door.

“I must ask something in return,” you mentioned hesitantly. “It is about your friend, Rocket.”

It was three days later that the Guardians were presented with the newly built Milano and pardoned of their crimes.

“Before you leave,” Miatawa called to them. “My Lady has some gifts for you.”

She presented them with fine bundles of cloth secured with ribbons.

“I shall bathe these in the blood of my enemies in her honour,” Drax remarked loudly, admiring his new daggers.

Miatawa jumped a little before presenting Gamora with a long sword that crackled and hissed with electricity.

“My Lady bestowed the elemental gift of lightning upon the sword.”

Gamora admired the sword finding that it would suit her perfectly.

Rocket placed the pot with a newly growing Groot on the ground in front of him as his paws took hold of the bundle offered to him.

He pulled on the silk ribbon and the material fell away to reveal a blaster. He pulled the trigger briefly and a white-hot laser beam flashed past the group and into the wall. The heat began to eat away at the wall surrounding the impact area as they watched in awe.

“Uh…oops,” Rocket muttered, still in awe at the power in the small weapon in his paws.

Peter glanced down at the colourless orb you had given him last night during a private discussion, it made him wonder why you hadn’t presented the gifts yourself.

After a brief discussion about not breaking any more laws, the group boarded the Milano and settled down as they discussed their next move.

Rocket sat in his chair with Groot on his lap, the warmth of the magic made pot beneath his fingers reminding him of warm hands scratching the fur upon his head. His ears perked up as he caught a whisper of conversation between Quill and Gamora.

“What did she ask you to do?” The green skinned female asked quietly.

“She needs me to look after Rocket.” The two wandered away before he could hear anymore and his mind raced.

“Her magic comes with a price.”

“A price only I will have to pay.”

anonymous asked:

how could you hate angel beats when it has that scene of everyone getting rocket chaired into the ceiling in slow mo (i hate it too)


Tavros strife arrangement! He doesn’t have a lot of songs, but there are a fair number of Nitram-themed bangers out there.

Arrangement of:

  • IRRRRRRRRECONCIALA8LE - Michael Guy Bowman and Thomas Ferkol
  • The Weeaboo’s Battle Cry - Toris Crow 
  • FIDUSPAWN, GO! - David Ko, Toby Fox, and The_Eighth_Bit
  • aN UNHOLY RITUAL - Kalibration

Songs belong to their artists and/or What Pumpkin.

Claspect Thoughts:

Claspect Thoughts:

So, I’ve been refactoring this simulation like a fucking FIEND lately (experimental branch only).  One of the things that has kept me from having too many claspect related effects in the sim is how POORLY things are explained in canon. Obviously this is intentional, as a common pastime in the fandom seems to be trying to explain claspects.  So, I guess, it’s time to throw my two cents into the ring.

Although, let me warn you,this is just how I’m doing it my sim for practical and whatever reasons, not how I think it ‘actually’ works in canon, or even how I’d WANT it to necessarily work. This just seems to give me the most bang for my buck in a simulation.  I might make things even MORE complicated later (and especially plan on adding new aspect specific features), but here’s what I’m shooting for right now:


  • minLuck (new!!!): What is the WORST thing that could happen?

  • maxLuck (new!!!): What is the BEST thing that could happen?

    • Luck for a specific event is a random roll between min and max

  • freeWill (new!!!):  How much does fate apply to you?

    • Ironically doesn’t violate shareable sessions. Instead players with high free will can do things like just DECIDE to not be in murder mode, or decide to god tier via suicide (regardless of fate).

  • Mobility (new!!!):  How easily do you move around?

    • High mobility players show up on other planets to help with quests, or with boss fights.

  • Power: How good are you in a direct fight?

  • hp:  (health points)

    • Used mostly during boss fights. It’s assumed you auto heal after fighting trash mobs.

  • Relationships: How you relate to people.

    • Values can be positive or negative, and only head towards quadrats if high enough in a direction.

  • triggerLevel: How much are you flipping your shit?

    • Highly triggered characters are likely to go into murderMode or grimDarkness, and are more likely to start shit in general with other players. Conversely, you need to be pretty mentally stable to be brave enough to confess flushed attraction.


  • Light:    

    • Associated Stats:  High MaxLuck

    • Special Tasks: Exposition Fairy (in progress)

    • Notes: More about chasing good results than avoiding bad ones.

  • Doom:

    • Associated Stats:  Low MinLuck, Low hp

    • Special Tasks:  ??? (Maybe increase likelihood of doomed time clones warping in to fix things?)

    • Notes: More about avoiding bad results than chasing good ones.  hpis the number one influence of “doom” as if you’re not alive enough you are FUCKED.

  • Hope:    

    • Associated Stats:  High Power

    • Special Tasks: Players waste less time flipping their shit if a hope player is alive (unless bard/prince/thief)

    • Notes: Best way to win the game is to be strong enough to survive it.

  • Blood:  How others feel about you, low trigger level.

    • Associated Stats:  triggerLevel,  positive relationships about you

    • Special Tasks: Bloody Thing (high chance of insta-calming a murderMode player down)

    • Notes: I assume a Seer of Blood remembers their past relationships and a Knight of Blood fights with their friends/enemies. So it’s about how other people relate to the blood player.  

  • Rage:

    • Associated Stats:  high  triggerLevel, negative relationships in general

    • Special Tasks: ???  (more annoyingi a fight is, higher their power is?)

    • Notes: basically, rage players modify the MurderMode likelihood.  If you flip your shit AND hate people/people hate you, you are way more likely to murderMode than grimDark.

  • Heart:   

    • Associated Stats: positive relationships with others

    • Special Tasks: Shipping Grids (gonna make shipping grids have a simulation effect. Maybe decrease odds of cheating?)

    • Notes: Heart seems to be about identity. A big part of people’s identity in the sim is how they feel about the other players.  

  • Breath:

    • Associated Stats: high mobility

    • Special Tasks:  ??? (Maybe encouraging combo sessions?)

    • Notes:   John had a pretty high mobility early on in the game, and it skyrocketed once he hit god tier. Tavros (a page) had an extremely low mobility early on that he improved over time in various ways (rocket chairs, dream bodies, robot legs).

  • Space:

    • Associated Stats: low mobility

    • Special Tasks: Frog Breeding

    • Notes:   This is the big one I think needs explaining. I originally shoved low mobility into space because SOMEBODY needed it, but the more I think about it, the more I like it.  Yes, Jade could teleport.  But every time she did, she had the First Guardian green fire thing going on, so it wasn’t a base Space power.  Space players are stuck on their planet frog breeding, and if they leave to help somebody out with a quest, everybody is DOOMED.  Space players are stuck in the brooding caverns. Or stuck in a single dream bubble waiting to fulfill a Choice.

  • Life:

    • Associated Stats: high hp

    • Special Tasks:  ??? (maybe giving players or themselves back up lives)

    • Notes: fuckit, I’ll let there be an hp system. But mostly only gonna use it for bosses.

  • Void:

    • Associated Stats: none (void)

    • Special Tasks: Doing shit off screen.

    • Notes: Void has no associated stat, and instead modifies a stat at random. You might, for example, have a void player with an insanely high starting power (*cough* Equius *cough*).

  • Mind:

    • Associated Stats: high freeWill

    • Special Tasks: ???  (gonna have a ‘free will’ scene that lets you do special things, but won’t be ‘mind’ specific. Maybe mind players are the only ones who can do free will things for OTHER players?)

  • Time:

    • Associated Stats: low freeWill

    • Special Tasks: Timeline management


Active vs Passive:   Active classes generally modify their associated stat in THEMSELVES while passive classes modify it in others.  (Modifications happen every time power is gained, and interaction effects happen any time you meet another player in person.)

  • Thief: Active

    • Interaction Effect: Takes stat from others, gives to self.

    • Initial Value: Low stat. (needs to steal)

  • Rogue: Passive

    • Interaction Effect: Takes stat from others, redistributes to everyone.

    • Initial Value: High stat.  (doesn’t need stat for self)

  • Knight: Active

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: High stat.  

  • Page: Passive

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: Low stat. (needs to earn)

    • Notes: Extreme hidden potential.  Pages are locked from doing anything on their own (so often get less levels overall), but have a permanent 5x power/aspect_stat  boost that is basically nothing at first but really adds up over time (especially once they start collecting other boosts, like Denizen or God Tier).

  • Mage: Active

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: High stat.

  • Seer: Passive

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: Low stat. (needs to learn)

  • Prince: Active (stat modifiers inverted)

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: High stat.  (needs to destroy in self)

  • Bard: Passive (stat modifiers inverted)

    • Interaction Effect: Destroy stat in others

    • Initial Value: Low Stat

  • Heir: Active

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: Low stat. (needs to inherit)

  • Maid: Passive

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: High stat.

  • Witch: Active

    • Interaction Effect: None.

    • Initial Value: High stat.  (needs to experiment)

  • Sylph: Passive

    • Interaction Effect: Increases stat in others.

    • Initial Value: high stat. (natural talent?)

meet-me-in-slam-city  asked:

Romanced companions react to turning around quickly, hearing a sudden noise, and Bam! Clocking their Sole right in the face by accident?

Heya! Hope y’all enjoy this one! The prompt itself was pretty fun ^.^ By the by, I’ll be doing that headcanon thing I reblogged tomorrow because now it is the time for sleeping! 

Danse: “Hey, ten caps says you can’t slap this sticker on the rear end of Danse’s power armor.” Hancock drawled from his reclined position on the couch. Sole looked at him and smirked.

“Easy money-“

“While he’s in it.” The ghoul grinned and victoriously snuffed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. “Your move Sole.”

Sole harrumphed and snatched the ‘#1 Dad’ sticker from Hancock’s expecting hand. Walking over to a preoccupied and fully suited Danse, Sole reared back their hand with the sticky portion of the decoration exposed.


“Huh?” Danse turned around curiously, only to accidentally smack Sole in the head with his massively armored hand.

“Oof!” The vault-dweller fell down onto their bottom clutching their face. “Ergh! Ow…” They held one hand to the side of their quickly swelling jaw.

“Soldier!” Danse bent down as well as he could in his hulking robot armor and scooped up Sole by their armpits. “My apologies soldier! I heard a sound and when I turned around-“

“It’s okay Danse. Don’t worry about it.” Sole assured him. The man sighed.

“Come on then, let’s get Curie to patch you up.” The man held out and open hand for Sole to grab onto. The vault-dweller gratefully grasped some of his fingers and followed him to the infirmary, but not before turning back and flashing Hancock a smug grin.

Hancock gave them an incredulous smile. He figured after that little display, they’d definitely earned the caps.

Preston: Preston surveyed the horizon as he stood on the riverbank of Sanctuary Hills with the ambient sounds of caravan cattle and farmhands rustling about the sleepy town at his back. Day’s like this, made him glad he’d found Sole; otherwise, he might not have been around to enjoy them. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Preston took the time to appreciate the trickling of water under the bridge.

“Ooooooh! What’s this?” Sole asked one of the provisioners.

“This? I uh, I’m not really sure. I just found it in one of those ‘Vault-Tec’ lunch boxes. You can have it actually. I don’t really have any use for it.” The man said while offering up the item. Sole grinned delightedly, knowing exactly what it was.

“Thanks! I will remember your kindness, always!”

And so they scampered off with their new noise maker. Oh look! Is that a Preston standing astride that bridge? Why yes, yes it was. Sole snickered, party favor in hand, and snuck up behind the minuteman.


“Woah!” Spinning around, Preston butted the end of his rifle into Sole’s ribs.

“Hrk!” Sole doubled over.

“G-General!” Preston dropped his rifle to the ground and grabbed Sole by the shoulders. They just continued to wretch, party favor long forgotten on the bricks of the paved road. “Babe, are you alright? What did you do? Why did you scare me like that?”

Sole shook their head. “Oops. Guess the joke’s on me! Heheh.” They groaned.

Preston sighed and kissed them on their hairline. “Next time, maybe you don’t play a prank on someone holding a rifle.” He chuckled and picked them up bridal style. “Come on now Sole, let’s get Curie to look at the damage for you.”

Sole grumbled and stuffed their face in his chest. “Okay.”

Nick: It was Nick’s quiet time. Sole isn’t allowed to disturb Nick during his quiet time, but does Sole ever listen to Nick?



They shook with barely contained giggles as they approached the synth from behind with two giant trash can lids at the ready. The mechanical man himself reclined in a chair with a book open in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other.

Tip toe tip toe.

Biting their lip in a grin, Sole brought the oversized tin saucers up to their maximum displacement.


“Gah!” Nick’s item’s clattered to the ground as he swung a fist into Sole’s face.

“AH!” Sole fell backwards holding onto their nose for dear life. Blood oozed from between their fingers and Nick’s yellow eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw them.

“Sole! Dammit! What was- Why-“ Nick snatched Sole up by their arms and set them on their feet. “Move your hands.” He commanded. When Sole didn’t obey, Nick removed their hands for them. “Eugh. That’s just nasty.” Nick’s nose wrinkled. “Alright, kid, let’s get you patched up.”

Later, Nick sat with Sole as Curie taped some gauze across their nose. Occasionally Sole would glance over at Nick who gave them judgmentally raised eye-ridges in response. When Curie finally left, Nick said, “Kid, what in the world made you do something like bang trashcan lids together?”

Sole sunk their head between their shoulders and gave a little shrug. Nick sighed.

“Come here Sole.”

Sole grinned and launched themselves into his waiting arms. Nick chuckled.

“Maybe now you’ll finally listen to me and quit interrupting quiet time.”

“Hehe, never.”

Hancock: “Heh, hey there little fella. You lost or did you just want the pleasure of some good company?” Hancock cradled a scrawny cat by the Red Rocket gas station, petting between its ears with a single finger. “Heheh, you’re a cute little thing aren’t ’cha?”

Sole stood in the background, fingers all tapping against each other like the super villains do. In their pocket they had stashed some small, throw-able firecrackers. Smiling uncontrollably, they tip-toed behind the distracted mayor, and grabbed a handful of poppers out of their pocket. Rearing a fist back, they dashed them against the concrete.


“Rrrraaaaaawwr!” The kitten screeched and flailed its claws in Hancock’s face.

“Holy shit!” Hancock screamed and ripped the cat away from his already shredded face and threw it to the ground. The animal quickly scurried off. In the heat of anger, Hancock spun around and walloped Sole’s jaw.

Sole yelped and back-stepped a few paces. Hancock’s expression dropped as soon as he saw who he’d just punched. Confused, he stepped towards Sole and grabbed one of their arms.

“Hey, lover, what the hell’s up with that? Did you make that noise?”

Sole laughed through their involuntary tears and nodded. “Yeah, that was me. Great joke huh? Heheh.” They chuckled.

Hancock sighed roughly and shook his head at the ground. “Come on, let’s see the damage.” The ghoul put one knuckle to their chin and gently lifted their face. As a result, Sole slowly dropped their hands from their face, letting Hancock view the mutfruit-sized purple bruise forming on their face. “Yep, that’s pretty nasty. Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.” Hancock smirked.

Sole gasped and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Buttface.” They said weakly.

“Heh, that’s a new one.” Hancock said before pulling Sole close. “Is it a cute buttface though?”

“I guess.” Sole shrugged in his arms. Hancock cackled and then kissed their brow.

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

MacCready: MacCready had his eyes locked on to the pages of his final Grognak the Barbarian collection. This was it! The last piece to his collected works! He ate the illustrations up hungrily, making sure to pay the issue every second of attention it deserved. Sole laid down in the background, groaning out of boredom. With their shooting buddy preoccupied, what were they supposed to do?

Rolling their head lazily to the side, Sole spotted their salvation from friendless purgatory. Flopping out a hand, they retrieveda the harmonica from MacCready’s backpack. They then rolled up onto their butt and scooted over to the unsuspecting mercenary. They had to hold their breath to keep from giggling, but once the instrument pressed against their lips,


“SH-SH-SHIIOOT!” MacCready flung his comic book into the air and swiveled around, elbowing Sole in the arm.

“Ow!” Sole frowned and grabbed their upper arm. “Geez Mac, what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! What was the fu-frickin’ kazoo for?!” He yelled back at them.

“That was a harmonica idiot! And it’s yours! How do you not know the difference between a harmonica and a kazoo when you own a harmonica!?” Sole screeched.

“Don’t start with me! You were the one blaring that thing in my ear! I was reading!”

Argh!” Sole grabbed his face and kissed him harshly on the lips. When they parted, MacCready had a surprised look frozen on his face.

“Well dang, if that’s what you were after, all you had to do was ask.”

Sole scoffed.

“Shut up and kiss me MacCready.”

“Aye aye captain.”

Deacon: Deacon sat hunched over a book on the roof of the Red Rocket gas station in a squeaky metal chair. Sole sat down behind him, organizing their latest haul of scrap. Wait… Oh yes! Sole pulled out a couple of air horns that they mistook for empty tin cans the first go around. Grinning, Sole glanced over at Deacon to make sure he was still fully preoccupied.


Sole shimmied their shoulders in excitement. With one horn in each hand, they leaned as far forward as they could towards Deacon, and…


“SH-SHIT!” Deacon rocketed out of his chair before lashing around to deck Sole square in the face.

“Ufh!” The back of Sole’s head cracked against the concrete roof, knocking them dizzy for a few moments.

“Sole! Shit! What was that for?!” Deacon quickly realized his mistake and grabbed Sole up off the ground. Holding the back of Sole’s head with one hand, he threw up three fingers with the other. “Hey, boss, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Ugh, three Deacon.” Sole grumbled. Deacon sighed, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

“Geez Charms, are you trying to give this old man a heart attack?” Deacon pursed his lips in something between a frown and a grin.

“Hehehe, oops.” Sole shrugged, grinning while looking off to the side. Deacon spotted the dark ring beginning to form around their eye. He grabbed their chin and tilted their head so he could examine it.

“Well boss, let’s hope you still look good with a giant black eye.” He grinned wryly. Sole made a disgruntled sound.

“Pffft! I always look good Deacon.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “can’t argue with that.”


“Gaaaaah!” Sole jerked awake and fell onto the floor. Above them Deacon was laughing more hysterically than they’d ever heard him laugh before. Groaning, Sole picked themselves up and crawled back into bed. “Go ‘way Deacon.” The sentence muffled into their pillow. Deacon sucked in a sharp breath.

“No can do boss!” Deacon jumped into bed beside them and wrapped his arms around their waist, pulling them close and nuzzling his nose into their neck. Sole sighed and relented, relaxing their muscles to better fit up against him. The last thing Deacon heard before falling asleep was a quiet declaration of, “You’re an ass Deacon, you know that?”

X6-88: X6 whistled to himself as he took apart his Institute pistol. He had been wandering with Sole aboveground for an extended period of time, and was forced to clean the gun himself. Thankfully he didn’t mind the work too much; he actually found cleaning to be a centering activity.

Sole on the other hand, just found it plain boring. They tapped their fingers along the ground as they sat criss-cross applesauce. Their eyes lazily tracked a small beetle as its tiny legs scaled over the dirt and rock, when suddenly, Sole chuckled darkly to themselves. They grabbed a nearby twig and carefully coaxed the bug onto the end of the stick. Ever so carefully, they moved the branch right up beside the courser’s ear.


The little fella took off, bumping into the courser’s ear a few times before buzz-buzzing away. X6 startled and reflexively backhanded Sole in the cheek.

“Ah!” Sole grabbed their cheek and bent over their stomach. “Gah, X, that was too hard.” They whimpered.

“If you did not want to be assaulted, then you should not have tried to surprise me.” He stated plainly. When Sole continued to glare up at him, he sighed. “Here, let me see the injury.” He demanded.

Sole pouted at him for a few seconds, but ultimately revealed their cheek to him, letting their hands drop to the floor. X6 grasped Sole’s chin with one hand and tilted their head to better view the growing bruise.

“Wow. That’s nasty.” He commented. After admiring his handiwork, he leaned in a pecked the wound. Sole looked at him warily, confused.

“Woah, what was that for X?” They asked, not used to him being so openly affectionate.

“Some woman in Diamond City told her son that kisses make everything better. Is this not true?” He asked.

Sole smiled wryly.

“Nope, that’s definitely true! You just keep on doing that!”

Cait: “Hey now! I haven’t seen enough of these around!” Cait and Sole had stumbled upon the General Atomics Galleria recreational center, complete with enough barbells to help Cait stay ripped forever. “Hey Sole, lookit this!” Cait called out from across the room. She was crouched over a massive set of weights, facing away from Sole, ready to lift the metal bar to the sky.

“That’s cool Cait.” Sole commented nonchalantly after glancing over, then continued to look around. Opening one of the drawers at the cashier’s desk, they found a bright, shiny whistle. “Heheheh.” They cackled quietly to themselves.

“Hrgh!” Cait had just managed to lift the weight above her shoulders when,


“SHITE!” Cait jumped back and let the barbell clang on the tiled floor, making the entire store vibrate. In a lash of anger, she whipped around and punched Sole’s face. Sole cried out and stumbled back, tripping over the boxing mat and landing on their bottom with an ‘oof!’ Cait gasped when she saw the blood seeping out from underneath their palms.

“What the hell Sole! Are ya tryin’ to die today?” Cait glared and stomped over to Sole, pulling their hands from their face. “Damn, that’s a nasty broken nose ya got there.”

Sole looked up at her through bleary eyes, reflexively crying from the assault on their face. “I guess we have to set it now.” They grimaced.

Cait gave them a half smirk. “Can’t say I won’t enjoy cracking yer nose back into place, since, y’know, it was yer fault after all. Now c’mere, let doctor Cait have a go at that pretty little face.”

Sole groaned and tried to hide their precious nose from the red-headed spitfire, and whimpered when she removed their hands against their will. “Be gentle.” They begged.

“Ah, lover, you know that’s not how I do things.” Cait winked. This…

was gonna hurt.

Curie: Curie sat at her desk, hunched over a clipboard of notes and furiously scribbling down some science-y jargon. Sole had been in the corner, waiting for Curie and tossing around one of Dogmeat’s rubber chewy toys when suddenly an idea occurred to them. Grinning, Sole narrowed their eyes on the target. Carefully as they could, they made their way beside the distracted Curie and lifted the toy to her ear.


“Oh my!” Curie shook a few times in surprise before flinging her arm back to smack Sole on the arm. When she finally turned to find Sole snickering, squeaky toy in hand, the little scientist glared, quite innocuously, at them. “Sole! How could you! Look, you made me scribble all over my notes!”

“Weren’t you doing that already?” Sole jeered.

“Argh!” Curie gasped in shock and gave Sole another good slap on their arm. It made Sole chuckle more. Becoming increasingly infuriated, Curie began raining down small little baby smacks on Sole’s bicep until their laughing finally infected her.

“Haha, oh Sole, I forgive you. But please, do not do zhis again, yes? My research is very important to me.”

Sole finished off their chuckling with a sigh. “Alright Curie, I’ll lay off the jokes from now on, but only for you.” They leaned down and nuzzled their noses together. Curie closed her eyes and smiled.

“Thank you Sole, but you had better watch out! Monsieur Deacon has been teaching me how to be stealthy, so my revenge may be imminent!”

“I’ll be sure to do that Cures.” Sole giggled disbelievingly.

Now, to find Deacon…

Piper: Piper aimlessly paraded about her office, proudly reading aloud her latest chronicle of Publick Occurrences, testing the flow of the writing. Sole sat watching her from the couch, amused and stuffing centuries-stale potato chips into their mouth. When they finished the snack food, they pouted at the silvery bottom of the empty can, trying to drown out the excited chattering of the newswoman.

“Hey Pipes, we need to go to the market.” Sole announced. The woman kept on reading, growing more and more intense as she read on.

“Piper. Hey Piiiipeeer! We need to go to the store!” Sole shouted louder this time. Piper kept on rolling, too wrapped up in her work to notice Sole’s devastating lack of potato snacks. The woman slammed one of her feet on the coffee table, pumping her fist in the air. Sole glared at her, the decline in their salt levels inversely proportional to their mood. Aggravated, they stood up behind Piper.

“PIPER! WE! NEED! POTATO CHIPS!” They screamed.

“GAH!” Piper flinched and brought her closed fist down onto Sole’s head.

“OW! Piper!” Sole whined, frowning and covering the top of their bumped head with their hands.

Blue?! Grrrgh! I had a good rhythm going too.” Piper grumbled and crossed her arms. However, watching Sole give her puppy dog eyes made her sigh and relax her stance. Rolling her eyes, Piper moved Sole’s hands and bent over from her perch on the coffee table to kiss them on the head. “Come on Sole. Let’s get you those potato chips.”


Ambien idea

You have a chair like a throne where a king sits and there’s to rocket chairs attached to it .you use it to tell your two crushes if you like them on bnot. They both go up a little at first to increase suspunse but then the rejected person goes flying. This was Tyler the creators idea but I actually built it so we were testing it him in the throne and me and faith Evans on the sides and that birch went flying! And Tyler kissed me so that was cute I’m I’m about to pass out clikk like

butterflytattoohaz-deactivated2  asked:

Can you do 3 for me?? Like, imagine all the tension... :) [if you haven't gotten it, of course!]

Harry slouches further in his chair, arms crossed tight in front of him. He only sits straight when the teacher, Ms. Brooks, clears her throat pointedly and looks at him with narrow eyes, over her glasses. Harry can’t even move without getting an angry glare all the way from the front of the class, jesus.

And he has another four hours of this, a painful in-school detention all because of one stupid prank. The school pool wasn’t even dyed red for that long and the inflatable sharks weren’t the slightest bit realistic. How was Harry supposed to know that the elementary school next door was coming in that day.

He doesn’t know who snitched on him, but he’s here for the rest of the week and he has to catch up on the course work he misses after school, leaving no time at all for his (almost) boyfriend. Almost because Harry hasn’t quite asked the question and Niall hasn’t quite said yes but they spend a lot of time together, watching shitty horror movies and fucking during the opening scenes.

Speak of the devil, the door bursts open and the science teacher, Mr. Mason, storms in with a wispy blonde by the arm, leading Niall to a desk near Harry and shoving him roughly into a seat.

“Stay,” Mr. Mason hisses, before turning to Ms. Brooks, shooting her, from what Harry can see, an apologetic look. “Mr. Horan tried to light some textbooks on fire and lead a revolution so he shall be joining Mr. Styles for the remainder of his detention.” Mr. Mason looks at them both and sniffs huffily before turning back to Ms. Brooks. “At least you only have two.”

Harry doesn’t much care for Mason’s tone so he turns to look at Niall and almost immediately feels heat pool in his stomach because, jesus. Niall is sitting with his back to the teachers, his legs spread to accommodate the chair, and his eyes, hungry would be a good word for it. Ravenous would be a better word.

Keep reading

The One With The Baby (Star Lord Reader Insert

Anon Request: What about a fluffy one where Quill (or the whole team actually) meets his new baby girl/boy? I can just imagine Drax vowing to protect them EEEEEEEEE :D Because hot men and babies are freakin’ asdfghjkl;

idk if i did this right but omg fluff?? we haven’t had that in a while!! plus i titled this one after ‘Friends’ because that is legit my fave show!! enjoy!!


“It’s all pink and squishy.”

“Is it supposed to look like that?”

“It smells weird.”

“I am Groot.”

“Okay, have you guys really never seen a baby before?” Peter asked. Everyone sat in a circle and crowded him, getting a good look at the new addition: a tiny baby girl. Now sleeping, Peter cradled her gently while the others got their first look at the newborn.

“Hey, it’s not our fault your terran spawn looks like some sorta weird ass vegetable,” Rocket commented. Peter flashed him the middle finger and focused his eyes back on the smaller being in his arms.

“By the way, she’s a ‘she’, not a an ‘it’.” Gamora stepped closer and stuck her finger out, poking it in the child’s cheek.

She is very fleshy,” Gamora mumbled.

“That’s a great observation, Gamora,” Peter spoke sarcastically. The baby began stirring but eventually went back into it’s relaxed state.

“Where’s the mommy?” Rocket questioned. Quill gestured behind him with one hand while still holding the child in the other arm.

“She’s passed out in the other room. Hasn’t woken up all day.” As if on cue, a figure ran past the group and into the bathroom. Following the sound of the thud of the door shutting, a loud retching sound was heard.

“Until now,” Gamora added. Peter jumped up out of his seat at the noise and looked around a little too frantically. He sped over to Drax and held the baby up to the large man.

“Here, can you hold the baby for a little I go check on her?” Peter asked desperately. Drax hesitantly took the small person into his arms while Quill rushed off to go check on the other person who sounded like they were currently puking their guts out. “Please try not to kill her!” he yelled back.

2 Minutes Earlier (Your P.o.V.)

A strange discomfort in your abdomen pulled you out of your heavy slumber. Too lazy to do anything, you ignored the feeling and tried going back to sleep. But the aching grew and you shoved the blanket off of you to massage your stomach. You rolled on your back and rubbed your hand over your belly a little harder. You felt like you were going to be sick. Then your eyes shot open.

“Oh no,” you whispered. You were definitely going to sick. Jumping out of bed, you sprinted out of the bunk with your hands covering your mouth. You ran past the group and quickly made your way to the bathroom and locked the door behind you. Kneeling in front of the toilet, you let it all out. Your stomach contracted and you began sweating. There was a knocking at the door.

“Are you okay?” It was Peter but, before you could answer, more vomit came up. “C’mon, open the door.” Even though he couldn’t see it, you still shook your head no.

“No, I’m all gross,” you complained. You held your hair back as you heaved once


“You’re always gross but I still love you.”

“Thanks a lot, Peter. That’s very helpful,” you called through the door. Wiping beads of sweat from your forehead, it seemed he barf-fest was over.

“Open the door.” You were done anyways and you stood up, looking into the mirror really quick to make sure you didn’t look as disgusting as you felt. Then you brushed your teeth and flung open the door after Quill knocked again for the millionth time. Barely having time to walk out, he grabbed your face and felt around it, checking your temperature. “Are you alright? Are you sick?” You pulled his large hands off of you and kissed him.

“I’m fine, Jesus. My stomach was just a little upset. Where’s the baby?”

“With the others,” he said calmly. But quickly processing what he said, the both of you rushed back to the group anxiously, praying that they didn’t do something stupid already. You came back to the common area to see Drax holding the baby in his arms and looking at her lovingly.

“Oh my god, he’s been like that for 20 minutes,” Rocket complained. The child seemed unharmed, so you let out a sigh of relief and sat in a chair next to the big blue man.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes still trained on the her.

“Ehh, I’ve been better.” Drax nodded slowly and Peter rested his hand on your shoulder. You covered it with your own and watched Drax intently, observing his every move.

“Your child is very tiny. I could crush it in the palm of my hand,” he explained.

“Okay, that’s-” Peter tensed up. He went to take the baby girl back but you pressed the back of your hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You didn’t know why, but you were interested in seeing this new, maternal side of Drax. Then, the baby wrapped her small hand around Drax’s giant index finger and giggled. At first, he was stunned but then a small smile played at his lips. It was rare to see him make any sort of facial expression and your eyes widened when you noticed it.

“I remember when my daughter was first born. She didn’t cry at all, just smiled and laughed at the smallest things. She was a lot like your daughter,” he paused. Maybe you were hallucinating, but you could’ve sworn you saw a single tear roll down his cheek. You bit your lip and held back tears of your own, for this was way too much emotion for you too handle. After a little bit, Drax turned to look at you and Peter. “I couldn’t protect my own child, but I promise that I will protect yours with my life… until the day I die.” You reached over and squeezed his arm.

“Thank you.” Sitting back in your chair, Rocket piped up once more.

“So what’s the little squirts’ name?”

“We haven’t decided on one yet…” Peter interjected. Then one hit you. Looking at the baby, it seemed like a perfect fit.

“What about Stella? It means ‘star’.” Peter squeezed your hand gently and kissed you on the cheek.

“I love it.”

Can’t Take It Anymore

This is the RusAme fluff story that I’ve been promising myself to finish. I started it in October, and I didn’t finish it until Sunday, whoops. :/

“Stop it…”


“Fredka, I am warning you…”

“NO! Your face is too squishy and cute!”

Ivan furrowed his brows in irritation as he crossed his eyes to look at the pest below him.

He loved Alfred, he really did. But enough was enough! He just wouldn’t stop toying with him. Every second, every minute, every day, Alfred spent rubbing his calloused hands all over the Russian’s face. A pinch of the cheeks. A boop of the nose. Tilting his chin up and down.

The first day, he expected it, being in a romantic relationship and all that jazz. Now, it was yesterday’s news. He just wanted some peace during his usual cup-of-tea-and-early-morning-newspaper routine.

He sighed as he felt the repeated stabbing of his flesh with a finger and heard small chuckles emanate from the younger’s mouth. He stared at his discarded tea in sorrow, spilt all over the newspaper and the printed words bleeding into one another. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, but he knew that he shouldn’t cry over spilled milk–er, tea.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Alfred kept at it. “C'mon, turn that frown upside down!” He took Ivan’s hand and shook it back and forth. Shaking with tremors, Ivan slapped his hands away, got out of the loveseat without a word, and stomped upstairs in one fluid motion.

Alfred flinched as the slam from the door shook the portaits and pictures on the walls. He sat there on the carpet, dumbfounded. “What’s the matter with him?” Something twisted in his gut as he inched towards the staircase and climbed them one by one.

He reached the door and turned the knob, but it held firm. “Ivan? Vanya? Are you okay?” Al placed his ear on the door, and listened to the shuffling coming from the other side. “Can you let me in?”

A muffled “nyet.”

“Why not?” He whined.

More muffled speaking came through the door.

“Can’t understand what you’re sayin’, bud.”

Quick footsteps, a click of a lock, and then the rough compression of springs.

Alfred hesitated, drawing his arm back for a slight second, gaining some courage, then twisted the knob again.

He found Ivan sprawled onto the bed they shared, his face in one of the many pillows lying around. He inched towards the Russian, wary of a violent reaction. The young blond sat on an unoccupied bedside chair and stared at the lifeless body on the bed.

“Babe, what’s the matter?” Alfred tried, not wanting to touch him just yet, twiddling his thumbs.

Ivan lifted his head sluggishly and gazed at him with a withering glare. “Do you really want to know?”

Alfred steeled himself. “Yes.”

Just at the expression on his face, Ivan’s glare softened. He sighed, “Alfredka, there is not anything really wrong. It is just that your new…er–hobby is starting to bug, that is all.” Dancing around the subject, he sat up, eyes searching his partner’s face for a reaction.

“I-I didn’t know it bothered you so much, big guy. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve stopped…” He hung his head.

“You had just looked so happy and-and, your smile–I could not disappoint you. But it did feel kind of nice.” He admitted shyly, his face crimson. Oh, how he wished that he had his scarf on him…


Violet eyes darted around the room before they landed back on Alfred, pulsating with unbridled emotion. “Da.”

Tears pooled in his eyes as he rocketed out of his chair and pounced onto the Russian, embracing him gently as their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Initially taken by surprise, Ivan jolted upright, then closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, their hands searching one another and left disheveled appearances in their wake. Reluctantly, they pulled away, a thin sliver of saliva connected between them. He reached up and brushed away any stray tears on the American’s face using his palms.

Both breathless, Alfred tried to balance himself on his hands and knees, but quickly gave up and flopped onto the bed next to his lover. He shifted to look him, cornflower blue eyes laced with mirth and relief.

His eyes closed for a brief second, then they shot open as his nerve endings engulfed themselves in pain. He clutched his cheek in astonishment. Deep chuckling came from the other side of the bed, Ivan clutching his side, one of his hands still near his skin.

He felt a grin emerge, then he mimicked a crab and took hold of the Russian’s nose and held firm, hearing the sputter of dying laughter and the strangled sound of air trying to force itself out his nostrils.

Now a light shade of plum, from the lack of air or the fact that he was still trying to laugh, he didn’t know. Lashing out, his flailing fist accidentally slammed into Alfred’s gut, knocking the wind out of him, but successfully loosening his grip.

Coughing to clear his airways, Alfred sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed, slightly afraid that he would lose his breakfast all over the flooring. Realizing that he felt blood rush to his forehead, he maneuvered himself into a more comfortable position. Large hands clamped around his ankles, the pressure slight and gentle as Ivan pulled him up.

Cerulean met violet again, and impulsively, Alfred put his head on Ivan’s pale, expansive chest and closed his eyes, listening to his settling heartbeat. Ivan combed his hand through the wheat colored locks fondly as he heard Alfred’s breathing begin to soften.

Taking off any excess layers, he laid Alfred on his side. The ashen blond found himself yawning as he gazed at the sleeping American below him.

He staggered towards the blinds, shutting them harshly and trekked back to the bed, sliding into the sheets and assuming a spooning position. Burying his nose into Alfred’s hair, he inhaled deeply, taking in his natural woodsy scent. Closing his eyes yet again, he relaxed himself, the frays of a dream overtaking his mind.

lesbrarian replied to your postxeryneian replied to your photoset …


i might normally be able to believe it but in this circumstance they just don’t seem alchemized to me? most stuff in the comic with an alchemical origin is really obvious about it; jade’s magic glasses aren’t subtle about being made of crystal balls, and tavros’ rocket chair basically looks like a giant flying rocket shoe. sollux’ headphones just look like what troll computer tech looks like.

of course, i can’t rule out the possibility that sollux just alchemised the thing out of some other troll tech; it’s certainly a very troll thing to do, if not a sollux type thing to do. but for me that raises more questions; like, if it’s that funny shape, what did he alchemise it from? i can only really think of, like, other troll tech that’s already shaped roughly like that

Everybody* Loves Baldur

We are going to take a DETOUR from Arthurian mythos and Robin “Psychopath In The” Hood stories to explore the bizarre and extravagant lands of Old Norse mythos. Now, I know I say this about lots of different mythos, but, boy oh boy, Norse mythos, wild stuff, you’ll see. Today, we’ll talk about the supposed owner of a gate a lot of people who like classic Western RPGs are familiar with: Baldur.

Now, before even getting into Old Norse mythos, you need to understand something: No one is fully sure what Old Norse mythos is. A lot of scholars are not sure what the hell some characters are supposed to even be, but at least, unlike Irish mythos, we have mostly accurate ways to pronounce their names, so at least we can refer to them by name properly while we wonder what the fuck is going on instead of being stuck at “Dfk… Dufil… Dukfil… THAT DUDE went and asked Medb something”. But the thing is, Norse mythos is mostly preserved in its general gist, since a lot of the writings dealing with the itty gritty details are often damaged so there’s lotsa personal conjecture. 

BUT TODAY YOU MUSTN’T WORRY ABOUT ANY OF THAT BECAUSE BALDUR’S STORY IS ONE OF THEM WELL PRESERVED ONES, HAHA, PSYCHE, I BET I HAD YER KNICKERS IN A TWISTER. Aaalright, so, Baldur, Baldur’s the god of Light, or maybe Love, possibly Peace, no one is sure because he is never explicitly mentioned as being a “god of this thing”, but it’s mostly assumed he is the God of Light because of something I’ll mention later, and the thing with Baldur is that EVERYONE loves him. Baldur’s super hot and super nice, and he knows it, but he isn’t stuck up about it, he’s honestly the ideal person, Norse people back then would often beg for Baldur’s blessings on their newborn babies so they would be hot and cool like him. Practically everyone likes Baldur. Hell, it gets to such a point that, in another story not entirely relevant to today’s, the giantess Skadi, who is the first recorded person in history and lore to have a raging foot fetish, saw these GORGEOUS toes and immediately assumed “THOSE GOTTA BE BALDUR’S, ONLY BALDUR CAN HAVE FEET THIS GOD DAMN BEAUTIFUL, I AM GONNA SUCK THOSE TOES” and asked for marriage immediately, except, the feet weren’t Baldur’s, they were Njord’s (another god), and Skadi was like “aw fuck” and they got married because Njord happened to be a macrophile and liked his women big, but as with all marriages shotgunned into place by fetishes and a lack of contact, they ended up divorcing. BUT THAT is another story (and a good one, Skadi’s a fun lady). The point is, Baldur is so widely god damn loved that shit like this apparently happened a couple of times. You know you are a Pussy Destroyer when someone gets Schrodinger’s Married because it could possibly be you.

So Baldur was basically living the life, being nice, hot, and beloved, when one day, he starts having bad dreams. In these dreams, Baldur dies. Now, this is the part where you say “uh ok”, and this is the part where I explain “DREAMS WERE ALWAYS PROPHETIC IN NORSE MYTHOS” and now you say “oh”. So yeah, Baldur was going to die. Which made zero sense, because he is a god, and thus, biologically immortal (as in, [Shirou voice] only dies if he’s killed, won’t die of old age), so if he was going to die, it meant that someone was plotting to kill him. So Baldur goes to his daddy, Odin, and he’s crying and holding onto his blanket so Odin gets worried, as any father does, and asks “SON, DID YOU GET A BOO BOO, WHAT IS WRONG”, and Baldur explains he’s been dreaming he’s gonna die, and Frigg (his mother, Odin’s wife, the goddess also known as Frea, not to be confused with Freya) is also really sad because she’s also been dreaming that Baldur’s gonna kick the bucket, and in Norse mythos, when TWO whole people have the same dream, that’s basically something that WILL happen. Also, it makes no sense, because everybody loves Baldur, so who the fuck would want him dead? You know what else makes no sense? That Odin seems to forget his piece of shit son Loki exists. WAU.

So, shit, alright, fuck, we gotta deal with this, pronto, and Powermom is here to help. Frigg gets on her soccer mom van and drives at full speed across the Norse world and makes everything promise that they will not harm nor kill Baldur, ever. Notice I said everyTHING and not everyONE. That’s right, fellas, Frigging Frigg talked to absolutely everything in the world and made them promise to not kill Baldur, which was actually pretty easy, because everyone was like “yeah sure man we love Baldur, why would we harm him in the first place, we just want his autograph and his babies”, because if you are hot and nice, the world is yours. So now the whole world promised to not harm Baldur under any circumstance. The whole world, except the mistletoe, because the mistletoe was too young to make promises, so Frigg didn’t make it swear anything aND YOU NO DOUBT KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING. It’s like when I tell you “So SIegfried is invulnerable EXCEPT for a leaf shaped spot on his back” or “Achilles is impervious to all damage EXCEPT in his tendon”, old literature was kinda UNCOUTH AND HEAVY on the foreshadowing, as reading mythology will often tell you.

So Baldur is now literally impervious to all forms of damage, because the world promised not to harm him. So what do you do when you are undamageable? Why, you get shit thrown at you for kicks and giggles! The god damn gods, with Baldur also into it, straight developed this hobby of having B-Boy stand in the middle of the hall while everyone threw spears and arrows and axes and rockets and chairs at him just for a laugh and watch as they all missed or failed to injury him in the slightest because, hey, promises are promises. This is the part where I tell you that Humans Have Always Been Humans, even gods, because if we have the opportunity to do something incredibly stupid like lugging javelins at a dude just to see what happens if we know it won’t hurt him, you damn right know we will. So they gods are getting shitfaced and rowdy with this whole Put The Spear On Baldur game they made up, when Loki, using his Robbie Rotten powers to disguise into an old lady, approaches Fregg, who was having a laugh watching at literally everyone throw sharp shit at her invincible son.


“Oh, you know, the world promised not to harm Baldur, see, so now we are just throwing shit at him, it’s ok”

“Everything promised not to harm him?”

“Well, yeah, everything except the mistletoe, because it’s too young to make promises, but it’ll be alright”


So Loki fucks off and goes to find a mistletoe, naturally. And this one isn’t for kissing, no sir, because Loki somehow sharpens the mistletoe and makes it into a mistlefoe, and fashions a god damn spear out of the mistlefoe because Fuck You He’s Loki And He Can Do That. Now, we all know a good trickster doesn’t get his own hands dirty, so he’s going around with his mistlefoe spear, looking for someone to Do The Deed, when he finds Hod (also known as Hodur), the blind twin brother of Baldur, crying in a corner. 

“Sup B, why you crying”

“Well, everyone is having fun throwing miscellaneous war paraphernalia at my bro and they won’t let me in ‘cause I’m blind as a bat and they are afraid I might hit someone else”

“How Unreasonable Of Them To Not Let The Blind Dude Throw Killthings! I have just the thing for you! I will lend you my spear, so go have a swing at B-Boy”


So Hod, armed with the Mistlefoe Spear, takes a running start and throws that sucker with a smile on his face, rolls a natural 20, and deals the Criticalest of fucking Hits on Baldur, landing the spear SQUARE on his heart. Why were they even AFRAID of this dude missing, the guy was clearly a marksman. Except, this was the mistletoe, so it pierced Baldur’s gorgeous, well oiled pectorals easily, stabbed his heart, and killed him dead. Oops.

Odin was like “??????” and was SO PISSED that he went, had mega sex with the giantess Rindr, gave birth to Vali as soon as they were done, and Vali grew into adulthood after a single day and then killed Hod. Do you ever get SO ANGRY that you go have sex with a giantess just to spawn a kid that immediately becomes a warrior JUST to kill a dude that pissed you off? Odin, you could’ve just HIT HIM yourself, what the fuck.

Well, anyways, so everyone was pretty sad because Cool Guy Had Bad Day and died. Messengers everywhere we doling out the news, women wept, men cried, it was a bad day. It was such a bad day that Hel, ruler of, uh, Hell, was like “aw shucks that kinda sucks?”, and as much as she liked the guy, Hel had a job to do as the rule of the underworld, but she decided to make an exception this one time, but only if the world earned it. Hel grabbed her megaphone and yelled “ALRIGHT KIDS, so I know you are all very sad Baldur’s dead and you want him back, so I am going to make a ONE TIME EXCEPTION, I will let him out of the underworld and revive, only, and ONLY, if everyone in the world cries and weeps for him”.

And everyone was like pffff no biggie, we love that dude, let’s CRY, so they did. Hel’s doing the checklist, like some sort of twisted Santa Klaus, checking who’s crying, and the list is almost full, but then she burrows her brow and drops the list. “Well, I guess Baldur is not coming back to life, that one girl didn’t cry” and everyone was like “WHAT WHO”

So Hel points at the giantess Thokk, whose name literally means “thanks”, ironically enough, and says “she ain’t crying, deal’s off” and she closes the Underworld, presumably to fangirl out to Baldur who lived there now. So everyone’s naturally like “THOKK WHAT THE FUCK” but then Freddy from Scooby Doo is like “Wait, there’s something fishy about this” and removes her face and, What Do You Know, It Was Loki In Disguise. He went and ruined EVERYTHING for EVERYONE again. And I don’t simply mean “he made sure someone everyone loved died and stayed dead”, I mean “Loki got Baldur killed and kickstarted the Ragnarok” because Baldur’s death robbed the world of light, hence why he’s assumed to be the God of Light.

So uh

Good job buddy.

Also, Loki literally had nothing to gain from this. Ragnarok’s also a really bad deal for him. He just… Did it. Because.

So the real message of the Story of Baldur is that one very dedicated asshole can and will ruin things for everyone and everything if left to his own devices.

Bear Brothers (closed RP)

In a little house, by the seaside, was a polar bear in his rocket chair, looking out the window. “Sky is looking grey, Grover. A storms a brewin’ out there.” The shark-dog in his lap barked in response, looking out at the window as well. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Visitors? He never got visitors. Unless it was some pesky reporter asking about his daughter again. Grover jumped off his owner’s lap and ran to to door, barking and growling like a maniac. Walter hushed him and went to the door, opening it slowly. “Hello?”