styrofoam peanuts

Tony Stark as a dad - headcanons

*feel free to add and tag me!*

This is compatible with whichever Tony-ship you want (superhusbands, ironpanther, pepperony, stuckony, ironfalcon, ironhusbands, etc)

Fuck the belief that Tony Stark would be a shitty dad just because of his father, because sometimes the victims of abuse want to be the exact opposite of their abusers. Also, I’ve seen so many art and fics going around about Tony being the irresponsible parent as to let his children do anything dangerous; we’ve already seen him interact with children in canon and he is nothing of the sort. So give me a Tony Stark who is wonderful with children, a natural when it comes to hang out with them because well, he’s a bit of a child himself. Give a Tony who is the kind of parent who is careful but also easy going, the kind of father who laughs at everything the baby/child does, you know, all those silly things.

The kid makes a face when they eat lemon? Give me a Tony who laughs his ass off as he gives the kid lemons and oranges to taste.

The kid laughs at the sound of ripping paper? Give me a Tony who gathers all the scrap paper around the house to spend hours ripping it and hearing the kid laugh their ass off.

Give me a Tony who gets a laundry machine just so the baby can sit on it and laugh when the thing vibrates as it works.

A Tony Stark who lets the kid use the very fancy lamp screen as a hat and toddle around the living room until they knock on something and fall on the carpet laughing.

Give me a Tony Stark who laughs himself hoarse as he makes the baby’s gums squeak with the pad of his finger.

A Tony Stark who doesn’t rush to the kid when they fall and overprotects them and forbids them to play again, but rather walks calmly, makes sure the kid isn’t hurt and gets them to stand back up, laughing at the whole silliness of it.

Give me a Tony who lets the kid jump on his bed and purchases a fuck ton of pillows to lie them around the floor just in case the kid falls.

A Tony Stark who’d take the kid of the beach and build a sand castle complete with towers and dungeons and then laugh when the kid decides to play Godzilla and destroy everything.

Give me a Tony Stark who baby proofs all his house but still manages for it to look stylish but still doesn’t care at all when said stylishness if ‘ruined’ by baby toy’s lying around the living room, or the kid’s drawings on the fridge, or the occasional plush toy lying on the couch.

A Tony who wouldn’t mind to say goodbye to the expensive marble floors of his living room and replaces them with soft, hypoallergenic carpet when the baby starts to learn how to crawl so they could do it freely without any restrictions.

Give me a Tony Stark who’d very gladly wake up in the middle of the night and slow dance in his pajamas while playing soft music with a very upset little baby cuddled to his chest because they’re teething.

A Tony Stark who sings their kid to sleep or whenever they have nightmares, instead of telling them ‘good, but go back to your room’, he pats the bed next to him and lets them cuddle up, no matter how tired he is or how early he has to up in the morning.

Give me a Tony who cracks up when the baby tries to take and eat the food from the pages of magazines, so he sits down with the baby on his lap and turns the page saying things like “Oh, look, cake, now that looks delicious” as the baby reaches with a pudgy hand and tries to eat it.

A Tony who sits down on the floor and draws and paints with the kid, maybe he’s getting some work done but since the kid likes to ‘help’ daddy, Tony gives them some scrap paper and sits down with them, and when he finishes he always tells them how much they helped him.

Give me a Tony who laughs his ass off when he catches the kid making a mess of himself and the carpet and the walls and the table with paint, because instead of yelling he would laugh and tell Jarvis to take photos and then take the kid for a bath and gently scrub the paint off their hair and each little finger and ‘how did you even get paint in your ears and your teeth?’

A Tony who gets a ton of cardboard boxes to build the kid a castle they can play in; he also orders styrofoam peanuts and dumps them all over the living room so the kid can play belief that it’s snow.

Give me a Tony who purchases a Roomba so the baby can sit on it and ‘travel’ around the room laughing and clapping.

A Tony who lets the kid decide what clothes to wear no matter his age or gender; if the kid wants to wear a dress and glittery shoes then he’d get him the prettiest dresses and shoes around, if the kid wants to wear shirts and shorts he’d just ask in what color and if they want cartoons on them, if the kid wants a chicken onesie he’d get them the cutest one, if the kid wants to go around naked then well, Tony would explain they couldn’t do it outside but that they can do all they want at home.

Give me a Tony Stark who would go out and play in the rain with the kid, making mud pies and all.

A Tony who’d gently nurse the kid when they get ill, and I’m talking about cuddles and slow-dancing and chicken soup.

Give me a Tony who is a kickass blanket fort architect who would build the most epic blanket forts ever, with soft pillows and blankets and tiny little lights and if the kid wants to live in a blanket fort for a few days that’s perfectly okay with him, hell, he might even sleep with them in there too.

A Tony who would give the kid all the love he has, all the hugs and cuddles and baby talk and silly pet names and all the kisses, kissing chubby cheeks and tiny hands and tiny little baby feet, and he wouldn’t just do it in the privacy of their home, no, he’d do it all the time no matter who was there, let the world know how much he loves the kid.

Give me a Tony who doesn’t care if the kid does or doesn’t turn out to be a genius like him, he still loves them all the same, he is extremely patient with them in a way his own father could never and would never be with him when he was a child. He’d leave everything and anything he’s doing if the kid needs or wants his attention; he’d pick the kid up when they want cuddles while daddy reads some important papers, Tony would take calls and have video calls with the kid whenever he has meetings or he has to go away on business trips, every single day without missing one.

A Tony who would give his kid the gender/sexual orientation/heathy, responsible, consensual sexual life (or lack thereof) talk without making them feel embarrassed and finish it off with a ‘no matter who you are or who you love I’ll always love you’.

A Tony who would patiently explain death to the kid and hold their hand and hug them as they cry when their first pet dies.

Give me a Tony who would laugh his ass off when the kid grabs his electric razor and shaves half of their head by accident because they wanted to shave like daddy in the mornings, he then would proceed to shave the rest of the hair off and explain to them that hair grows and how they can have it of any length and color they want.

A Tony who would give the kid crazy hairdos and beards and moustaches out of foam when it’s bath time.

Just give me a Tony Stark who’s such a good, loving, caring father to his children.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

  • [Camila has her head wrapped in bubbled wrap and Dinah is punching her. Normani enters the room.]
  • Normani: What are you guys doing?
  • Camila: Try it, I can't feel a thing! [Normani starts punching her too]
  • Ally [enters the room]: Are, are you kidding? This is packing?
  • Dinah: We're taking a break!
  • Ally: From?
  • Dinah: Jumping on the bed?
  • Ally: Alright, we're leaving in a couple of hours and there's a lot to do. Now, Mani, you got leader blood, you're in charge of these yahoos!
  • Normani: You got it! [Ally leaves, Normani closes the door] Alright, she's right, we gotta get serious. [She grabs a bag of styrofoam peanuts] Let's put styrofoam peanuts down her pants and kick her!
Cat Boy // Nakamoto Yuta

-

the prompt: I’d like to request a Yuta NCT scenario where he receives a cat statue in the mail but there’s no return address. He goes to sleep and when he wakes up the next morning, he feels strange and his members scream when they see him because he now has a tail and cat ears. The item was cursed, and Mark tells him to visit the reader because she has knowledge of witchcraft and there’s an instant connection. Fluffy humor, if you can.

words: 1529

category: fluff + comedy

author note: au’s are always a good time and also i haven’t written for yuta since January and i missed him. also i made the reader an actual hogwarts graduate witch whoops

- destinee

Originally posted by chocosicheng

wow he’s so handsome talk abt a bias wrecker

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Gene Harlow: Bates Motel Final Fan Fic

It was almost the following Christmas by the time Alex was released from prison. Two years. Two years for lying about his relationship with Rebecca. They couldn’t pin anything else on him though - He was careful. He had always been careful. So they had had to make an example out of him - An elected official, “a pillar of the community” - That’s what the judge had called him during the sentencing. “A pillar of the community committing perjury? I simply cannot be lenient under the circumstances. I’m recommending a full two year sentence with a chance to appeal after one year served.” Rapists usually served less prison time.

He was out in a year, with the help of his father’s old, shrewd lawyer. Alex felt no real yearning for freedom, not now She was gone, but his desire for vengeance grew stronger with every passing day. And so he nodded his head in contrition and promised to never do anything like this again and followed his corrupt, slimy lawyer’s instructions down to the letter, and sure enough, the following December, he was out, back in polite society.

Day one of freedom was spent sitting in the dark in his old house, drinking the bottle of scotch he’d been saving for… Well, he didn’t know what he’d been saving it for, but now seemed as good a time as any to drink it. He looked at the three items lined up on his coffee table, downing the last of his glass and pouring himself another.

His gun, the one he’d been retrieving when he was arrested was lying next to the ring, his mother’s ring… Norma’s ring. And now she was cold in the ground, and her ring was lying next to the gun he was going to end his life with. He sighed, taking another long drink, wincing at the burn in his throat. He’d missed it - He hadn’t drank since he’d married her, but he welcomed the blurring tug of oblivion pulling at his senses now, as he cast his eyes over to the final object lying there, taunting him.

It was a gift. A Christmas gift from last year, beautifully wrapped in charming, classic wrapping paper, adorned with ribbons and bows. A shiny golden gift tag kept catching the light from passing cars outside, blinding him for a split second every time. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He didn’t need to read it. He remembered it what it said.

“Alex. Merry Christmas! To many more together. All my love, Norma x”

It was a reasonably large box, quite heavy and he remembered her warning him not to shake it, with a wry smile on her face. “What is it?” He’d asked, cocking his head at the large box, as she placed it under the tree, only days before she was taken from him. “It’s a box full of rocks.” She’d answered, smiling over her shoulder at him, catching him hungrily watching her bending over.

“Perfect. Just what I’ve always wanted.” He’d swallowed her pretty giggle, pulling her in for a kiss under the mistletoe she seemed to have covered their home in.

He was startled awake by that same giggle, echoing from his half dream, jerking awake, the contents of the box rattling from where it was balanced on his knees. It didn’t matter what it was. Just that it was the last thing of hers. The last thing she’d ever give him. It really could be a box of rocks for all he cared.

But it could wait. He had things to do before could finish this. He set it carefully back on the table, before slumping back in his chair, letting unconsciousness take him.

He awoke with the birds, his head pounding, his mouth dry, his eyes landing on the gun first. Maybe he should just end it all now? His eyes flicked over to the ring. No. He’d been planning this all year. There was an order to this. There were things he needed to do first.

“Hello?” He croaked, after spending the morning on the phone to old buddies at old stations around Oregon, calling in favours from people who just didn’t want to owe him anything anymore.

“Hello, Massett residence.” Emma’s voice bubbled through the phone line, giggling as if he’d just caught them in the middle of an inside joke.

He ended the call abruptly, staring at the phone for a long time, taking slow deep breaths through his pounding hangover. "Massett residence"? His heart constricted painfully at the thought of Norma not attending her oldest son’s wedding. He waited for what felt like an eternity before dialling the number again, sighing with relief when Dylan picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Dylan?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?” The gruff, familiar voice came through the line and Alex felt a strange swell in his chest.

“Romero.”

There was a long pause.

“It’s Alex.” He said, not sure Dylan had heard him.

“Hi.” Dylan said finally, puffing out a long breath. “What did he do now?” He said quietly, his tone reserved and Alex heard a door press shut quietly on the other end of the line, like he didn’t want Emma to hear the conversation.

“He’s…” Alex started, trying to keep the shake out of his voice, trying to figure out what to say. “It’s your mother. She’s…” He trailed off, unable to voice the words.

There was a long intake of breath and the sound of a chair creaking as Dylan sat himself heavily in it.

“He do it?” He murmured quietly.

Alex couldn’t repress a quiet sob at Dylan’s question.

“Yeah.” He ground out through gritted teeth.

“Shit.” Dylan was silent for a long time. “You get him?”

“No. I… I can’t prove anything.” He faltered as he admitted his own failings. He had failed to protect her and he had failed at bringing her killer to justice.

“Why are you calling me, Alex?” Dylan said suddenly. “What do you want me to do?” He sighed wearily, like he was tired of being pulled back into this mess, like he had finally felt free, at least for a little while.

“Nothing.” Alex said honestly. “There’s nothing to do. I just needed to let you know.”

“Ok.” There was a rustling sound as Dylan covered the mouth piece and Alex dutifully pretended he couldn’t hear a few moments of muffled crying as Dylan broke down.

“That was all I wanted to tell you.” Alex mumbled, his voice almost robotic. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”

Dylan sniffled, and cleared his throat.

“Hey.” Alex blurted out suddenly. “Did you and Emma get married?”

“What? No.” He heard the confusion in Dylan’s voice, and felt strangely comforted for a second.

“She’ll want to go to the funeral. When is it?”

Alex stared at the ring glinting in the gloom of his darkened living room, focusing on it until it began to blur through his tears. He opened his mouth to speak, the words not coming out. He had planned to tell Dylan about Norma. That was all. This was too much.

“Er… I’ll let you know.” His voice breaking obviously before he slammed the phone down, finally breathing out the anguished sob he’d been holding in the entire call. He should have told Dylan the truth. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t manage it. It wouldn’t matter. It would all be over soon anyway.

He tried to stand, his weak legs buckling under him. When was the last time he’d eaten? Or consumed anything that wasn’t fifty year old scotch? Or slept anywhere but fitfully on this chair?

He wasn’t ready for the big showdown. Not like this.

Day two of freedom had more of a sense of purpose around it. He stood, staring at himself in the mirror, not recognising himself. He’d aged a decade in the past year, the lines around his eyes deeper than before; the light sprinkling of grey in his hair that Norma used to tease him about was now threatening to take over. He ate, he showered, he dressed, going through the motions like he was going to work, not to kill his wife’s son. And then himself. It felt strange, how entirely normal it felt.

The day dragged on into the afternoon, the sun beginning it’s slow descent as the light shifted, and Alex looked up, realising he’d been staring at the gift she’d given him last Christmas for hours, not even seeing it. He stood, reaching past the gift, taking the ring and tucking it securely into his pocket, and then grabbing the gun, palming it’s heavy weight, weighing up the implications of what he was about to do.

“She wouldn’t want this." That voice piped up in his head, the voice that sometimes sounded like her. "She wouldn’t want you to kill him.”

He sighed. He knew that. He’d wrestled with that same thought for the whole year.

Maybe just one more drink? To calm the shake in his hands? He poured it, catching a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t do this.” Her voice rang out, clear and sharp and unmistakable. There was a rustle and her form stepped forwards from out of the shadows, the swishing of her skirt around her bringing back such fond memories.

“He’s my son.” She said, her voice breaking, her eyes burning a fierce midnight blue through the gloom of the curtained room. He could see the tears glistening on her face.

“This isn’t… You’re not real…” He stammered, as she took another step towards him, growing clearer with each step.

“Please, Alex…” She implored, and he squeezed his eyes shut not wanting to hear it.

He awoke with a start, his eyes immediately flying to the darkened corner where she had stood, finding no-one there. The gun was still in his hand, resting on his lap, where he was slumped, slumbering in his chair again. He sat up, making a decision, slowly placing the gun back on the table. He didn’t believe in ghost or angels or heaven or any of that bullshit, but maybe she was his conscience, telling him not to do this. Maybe she was right? It wouldn’t bring him any peace. There was no peace for him now.

He moved to stand up, the neatly wrapped gift catching his eye once more. It didn’t matter what it was. But… his curiosity won out, and he leaned forwards, feeling his eyes prickle as he read over the tag one more time. He ran his fingers along the seams, pulling the paper away gently, tugging the ribbon open reverently, like he was undressing a woman, not opening a present.

It was a plain brown box and he frowned, pulling open the top to reveal a box of Styrofoam packing peanuts. He cocked his head, starting to dig through them, feeling the slightest tug of genuine excitement at whatever she had got him. He laughed out a harsh, surprised laugh when he reached the bottom, his hand closing around several large rocks, weighing the box down. She hadn’t been joking. She really had got him a box of rocks. And now she could never explain to him why this had been funny to her at the time. He wanted to laugh, and then he wanted to cry - He’d been obsessing over this package for an entire year, consumed with finding out it’s contents, and it had been some obscure joke he would never understand. He almost hated her in that moment.

His eyes fell on a post it note, stuck to the top of a large flat rock in the corner.

“Did I fool you?" Read her swirly, pretty handwriting and he grinned, happy to have another part of her with him now. She’d drawn a little smiley face next to it. And underneath that, "Turn me over…”

He dutifully lifted the rock from the corner of the box, turning it over in his hands and freezing, feeling his heart stop in his chest. His blood ran cold, the breath forced from his body in a short, sharp breath that hurt his lungs. There, taped to the underside of the rock was a pregnancy test, with another post-it note stuck to it. "Surprise!“

"Are you happy?” He could imagine her saying, her voice crystal clear and hesitantly excited, his brain forming the image of her sitting there, pretending to be unsure as he gazed at the little white stick in his hands.

He stood abruptly, the box and it’s contents falling to the floor, throwing the rock down with it and reaching for his gun.

“Alex, wait.” Her voice was ringing out again but he ignored her this time.

“This isn’t what I want!” She sobbed.

“You’re dead. I don’t give a fuck what you want.” He ground out, tucking the gun into his waistband and charging out of the house with a renewed determination.

Nothing prepared Alex for what he would find at the house. He swung his rental car into the parking lot, immediately seeing the unfamiliar car there, right next to Norma’s old Mercedes. He immediately knew who it was.

“Dammit, Dylan.” He muttered to himself, heaving his aching body and aching soul out of the car and sprinting up the steps.

He could hear the grunting and sounds of a scuffle as he quietly entered the house, allowing himself to listen for a moment.

“You never liked her anyway! Why do you care, Dylan?” Norman screamed and there was a roar and a clatter.

“She was our mother, Norman! How could you do that?!” Dylan yelled and Alex had heard enough, charging down the basement steps. It was dark, almost impossible to see, until he rounded the bottom of the steps, the basement dimly lit with dozens of tiny candles.

“Norman!” He yelled, and Norman turned, being released by Dylan as they both turned in shock to look at him. Norman’s mouth closed, blinking slowly like he’d been expecting this all along.

“Hello Sheriff.” He said politely, bowing his head at him. Alex glared, a rush of what to do now he was here flooding through him. He’d pictured this moment all year, but now it had arrived and he was unsure of what to say first.

“I’m glad you’re here actually. Your wife wanted to see you.” Norman said, so calmly that, for a split second, Alex didn’t take in what he was saying. He gestured to the large dividing wall that had sprung up since the last time Alex had been here, cutting the room in half. There was a loud humming noise coming from it, and Alex took a deep breath, feeling his hands start to shake.

“What is…” He started, as Norman nodded his head, gesturing for Alex to follow him.

“Come. You too Dylan. She missed you.” He said, his voice eerily calm.

Dylan exchanged a terrified glance with Alex, both of them taking a hesitant step forwards, towards the vast iron door in front of them. Alex’s hand slid to his lower back, stealthily getting a grip on his weapon, making sure he was ready for whatever was behind the door.

Norman turned, smiling the whitest, sharpest smile they’d ever seen, before swinging the door open with a flourish and stepping back. For a moment, a burst of cold air and a swirl of freezing mist blinded them, before it cleared and they took in the ghastly sight before them.

Norma Bates, or some version of her was sitting in a golden chair, her skin pale and blue tinted, icicles hanging from her skin, her eyes, her hair. Her eyes, once the brightest shade of azure he’d ever seen were now lifeless and dead, glazed over with a film of icy pale blue. Around her were flowers and candles, chocolates and old records and stuffed birds surrounding her, like he was bringing a lover all of her favourite things, like he was building a shrine, with the ultimate doll in the centre of it all.

He heard Dylan gasp from next to him, grounding him and, on instinct, he shoved Dylan to the side suddenly, the split second before Norman brought the kitchen knife slicing down into Alex’s body. Hot met cold as he felt the warm blood soaking down his back, contrasting with the frigid air from Norma’s icy tomb meeting the front of his body.

He sank to his knees, keeping his eyes fixed on her, not able to drag his eyes away from her, even as he heard the sounds of fighting coming from behind him. It sounded far away and distant, his vision beginning to blur as the pain radiating through his shoulder and his back started to spread. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. He was already beginning to lose feeling. Good.

A sudden smell of smoke filled his nostrils and he dragged his eyes away from the defiled corpse of the woman he loved to see Norman and Dylan fighting, Dylan landing blow after blow as Norman tried his best to fend off his older brother’s fists. Smoke swirled around them, flames starting to lick upwards from a candle, upturned during the fray, a frayed velvet curtain catching fire suddenly. Flames roared along the fabric, lighting up the room in a sudden burst of orange, casting a golden glow over Norman and Dylan, suddenly frozen in place.

Norman took the opportunity to hit back, landing a blow on the side of Dylan’s head that knocked him off his feet, and Norman scrambled, all three of them coughing as smoke filled their lungs, throwing himself on top of Dylan, closing his hands around his throat, pressing with all his might. Dylan choked, and spluttered for what little oxygen was left in the air, and Alex didn’t hesitate, lunging, his body protesting at the movement, throwing his weight at Norman. They toppled off Dylan, who took a grateful lungful of acrid air, before sitting up with difficulty and pulling Norman back. The boy fell easily, his head knocking into the edge of the open freezer door, the clang echoing loudly before he fell limply onto the ground, unconscious.

“Alex! Alex, come on!” Dylan shouted over the roar of the flames, reaching through the smoke, for Alex’s jacket, getting a hold on him. He pulled him to his feet, frowning when he resisted his grip.

“No…” He protested weakly, watching for a second as the velvet drapes fluttered down in torn ashen tatters, obscuring their view of her body for a second, still perfect and serene, even in the chaos of the basement. He reached for her, his numb, shaking hands faltering as Dylan pulled him back.

“We gotta go! We can’t do anything for her. We…” He paused, to cough, struggling to breathe the thick, grey air. “We can’t…” He trailed off, tugging Alex up with the last of his strength, dragging him towards the stairs, both of them casting one last look back before taking a step.

His eyes landed on her face, almost totally obscured through the smoke now, and he shoved Dylan forwards suddenly, pushing him up the steps.

“Go! Go! I’ll be right behind. Call 911!” Dylan hesitated for a moment, before something flitted across his face, and Alex could tell he just thought of Emma, of getting back to her. He nodded stoically, running the last few steps and throwing the basement door open, fresh air flooding down for a moment, before the oxygen fed the flames and they grew impossibly higher.

He felt his skin start to burn, felt the lick of the flames around his feet as he turned, staggering through the haze, feeling for the body on the floor. There was a quiet groan, and Alex summoned every ounce of strength he had left in his fragile, broken body, ignoring the fresh wave of hot blood pouring down his back, ignoring the searing pain tearing through his chest. He pulled Norman up, grabbing at his wrist, dragging him to the steps and then flopping backwards, exhaustion taking hold.

No. He wasn’t letting him die down here.

He coughed again, a horrible wracking cough, feeling for the banister, his vision useless now, clawing at Norman, his fingers managing to grip onto his sweater, heaving him up the stairs. He didn’t know how he did it, how he managed to drag himself and the boy up the stairs. He had heard of mothers whose adrenaline made them able to lift cars of their trapped children. Norman wasn’t his child. He hated him. More than anything, he wanted to leave him down there, to choke and burn and die, knowing he was paying for what he’d done.

But then he’d thought of Her. And he’d somehow made it to the top of the stairs, to where he could hear Dylan shouting and struggling from the doorway.

“They’re there! They’re they are!” He shouted, and Alex felt the weight of Norman being taken from him, and then strong hands were taking a hold of him too, and there were flashes of bright, reflective yellow uniforms as his eyes fluttered open and closed a few times.

And then finally he was outside and he took a grateful deep breath of cold air. It wasn’t enough. He knew that now. He’d known it the second he’d turned around on those stairs, collapsing as soon as he was outisde, his weight slowly being lowered to the floor.

“You’re going to be ok.” A strong voice was saying, but he couldn’t open his eyes to reply. He felt an oxygen mask being placed over his face. Pointless now.

He took one deep breath, feeling a sharp painful jolt from deep within his chest, feeling a splattering of blood cough out into the mask as he exhaled.

“Shit. What-”

He opened his eyes, for one last time, his hand weakly slipping into his pocket, feeling his heartrate slowing. His fingers brushed against the ring there, feeling the cool metal against his fingertips, the last thing he’d ever feel. Through the smoke and the blur, he could make out Dylan, wrapped in a silver blanket sitting a few feet away, staring helplessly at him, and he turned his head, glancing over at the stretcher being carefully carried down the steps. Norman’s hand flopped over the side and for one horrifying second, Alex thought it had all been in vain. But then he saw Norman’s fingers twitch, managed to make out the telltale rise and fall of his chest as he breathed through the oxygen mask.

Blood poured out of the corner of his mouth as he let his head fall, ignoring the paramedics and the firefighters bustling around him, uselessly trying to save him. He watched as the flames began to engulf the house, engulfing Norma Bates, her final resting place the home she had created here.

And there it was. The most selfless thing Alex had ever done. His final act of love for her, saving the son she loved - The man he hated. Because she would have wanted him to.

“I love you. I always will. Whether you’re here or not.” As the darkness pulled at him, feeling the icy grip of death finally taking hold, he thought of his final words to her. He had meant them.

He smiled, his world fading to nothing.

“Always…”

“You did the right thing, Dylan.” Emma assured him gently, as they stared down at the gravestones, side by side, like they always should have been. Hers was empty, like it always had been, but they both pretended they didn’t know that.

“If I hadn’t left him down there…?” Dylan said, turning away for a second. They both knew it was about more than the night at the house. “Maybe if I hadn’t left altogether? They might both be-”

“Shush…” She murmured softly, taking his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Has he- Has he talked anymore about… ‘her’?”

He cut her off sharply.

“No. They keep him medicated now. He can’t see her- Or whoever the fuck he was seeing before anymore. He won’t be seeing her again.” Dylan spat the words harshly, and Emma turned, nodding to herself, taking a deep breath. She crouched down, settling the bunch of fresh peonies and daisies between the two headstones.

“Bye Norma… Bye Alex.” She sniffled to herself, rubbing her mittened hand under her eyes, before standing up again, and tugging his hand slightly. They turned, starting to walk away, before Dylan paused, stroking his fingertips over the cool granite.

“Goodbye Mom…”

Strictly Professional - Chapter 8

Everything almost seemed normal again. Jon had made his admission that he had feared any weird tension between them and that had been his reasoning for staying away from the apartment. Sansa assured him that there wasn’t. 

There’s still that funny little belly flip thing though. Especially when I catch him giving me those weird looks……it’ll go away - he’ll get used to the idea of what we did, Sansa mused on her commute home.

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Charming Fixer Upper

Please I’d prefer
if you’d just ignore the mood swings
sure they seem out of place
cluttering up
the front yard
but the kids ya know
they love ‘em
just keep your distance
ya might get your teeth kicked in

The gladiolas along the walk
look lovely of course
just don’t go round back
the willow’s been weeping so much
it’s a regular swamp
I think the amphibians
are fixing to go full air breather
there’s talk of taking the shed
turning it into their keep,
Funny
it never rains on Thursday

The kitchen is homey
warm
sunshine through a dusty window pane
smells like ginger snaps
doesn’t it always
seem like June there?
Just don’t go in the cellar
Nobody knows what’s down there
not even what’s down there
stairs seem a little too long
oh and please if you could
ignore the skritching scrambling
sounds coming from the attic
Whatever’s up there
it doesn’t ever sleep,

There’s a lot of rooms
but it’s not as big as you think
although it’s bigger
than it looks from outside
apparently I might maybe
be some kind of hoarder
boxes of random memories
stacked in every hall
crates jammed with
styrofoam peanuts and nostalgia,
Ah, I remember nostalgia…
just didn’t realize
I was saving it for later,

Frankly
If I were being honest
I’d have to say
it’s in your best interest
to stay in your car
view this listing from the road
the seller may be motivated
but the price will never be right

Gasolina

Pairing: Regulus Black x Lily Evans; background James Potter x Sirius Black

AU: Modern, non-magical, Tinder AU

Word Count: 2,331

Written For: @reghoulus + @takeupserpents [#regulily gospel crew]


Lily starts dating James Potter in early September.

It lasts three weeks.

She gently breaks up with him after he rearranges his entire class schedule—changing his proposed majorfrom Criminal Justice to Discrete Mathematics in the process—so that he can ‘spend more time with Sirius’.

James seems genuinely upset by the news.

“Is this about Sirius?” he bleats, slouching into the truly ridiculous depths of his burgundy leather couch. “Because the cuddling—it’s, like, super fucking no homo, okay, there are hand checks and a bro code and the bro code clearly states that morning wood is, like, subconscious, right, you can’t blame us for—”

Abruptly, he cuts himself off, squinting at a platinum Crate & Barrel candlestick like it might tell him exactly what was wrong with literally everything he’d just said.

Lily sighs.

Keep reading

“Thank you Tony.”

OMG the Cardboard Iron Man costume is SO ADORABLE THAT I THINK I AM GOING TO BE SUFFOCATED FROM THE CUTENESS ; w ; (And I find a video on Youtube (x) on the storyline of Cardboard Iron Man :D)

And somehow my imagination convinced me that Tony will definitely make a cardboard shield to Steve, so that they can go fight monsters made of bubble wrap and Styrofoam peanuts together :D

the-forgotten-fangirl  asked:

What if keith looks up to shiro because he took him in when the garrison found alien keithy in a pod when he was younger and Shiro was the only one who seemed to treat him normally?

BIG BROTHER SHIRO

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IMAGINE

-Keith was found in the desert abandoned as a young child, and was taken in by the Garrison especially because he looks like a Galra. 

-However, the way they treat him like an animal terrifies Keith, so he’s quiet, just watching them and not really cooperating well. 

-The Garrison sends him straight to the facility where he is kept as basically an experiment, but they ‘cover that’ by acting like their ‘helping Keith’ and making empty promises that he’s going to go home. 

-Shiro on the other hand is top of his class, still a student at the time, and had been given special access to the project due to his uncle working at the Garrison. 

-Shiro obviously was still young, and his different perspective led him to instead of seeing Keith as the ‘experiment’ like the other officials, he sees Keith as a cute little purple kid that was terrified in his situation. 

-Keith takes a warming to Shiro immediately, because Keith can tell something is different about him. Especially because he’s the first one to realize that Keith needed to eat, and had brought him the Garrison’s mac and cheese. 

-Keith starts to follow him around like a little shadow and it’s pretty adorable.

-At one point Keith gets upset he can’t keep up so Shiro let’s him ride around on his shoulders. 

-Since Keith isn’t allowed to leave the Garrison he lets Keith follow him around in the labs when he’s working, but it often leads to him being upset because Keith can’t actually go into the classes. 

-Keith also has a tendency to be too curious and knocks things over constantly, so Shiro has to keep a constant eye on him. 

-”Keith..why are your EARS BLUE?” “Keith the officials said you poked Sargent Sims in the eye because you didn’t understand pupils…” “Keith, you can’t eat the Styrofoam peanuts.”

-When Keith gets old enough and seems to be more adapting, Shiro begs the Garrison to let Keith come live in his house cause it’s just not right to keep him cooped up like an animal. 

-He covers it up that Keith is his adopted little brother, and by this point Keith has learned how to look human, and he based a lot of his appearance off of what he had seen around the Garrison, especially Shiro. 

-The minute Keith leaves the Garrison, he goes very quiet again. There’s just so much for him to take in, and he often finds himself not belonging. 

-But Shiro knows the curious little trouble maker behind the mask, and because of that, he loves to tease Keith and get him comfortable enough to be willing to be himself again.

4

New boy arrived in a small bag with some almond leaves. A bit pale, already angry. The bag was shipped in styrofoam box with packing peanuts. 

Half an hour later he’s already going after the shrimp and generally owning the tank. Still angry though. Really glad he arrived healthy and looked just like the aquabid picture (last image)!

Lost and Found | 6 |

Summary:  We could meet a thousand different ways in a thousand different times but I’ll always know I’ll find you. NaruHina AU drabbles.

Title: Dear Friend
Pairing: NaruHina
Prompt: Letter found in an old notebook AU
Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
AN: Damn I can’t seem to write anything short these days. Also considering renaming this collection to ‘Drowning in Fluff’. Just kidding. Sort of. Not really happy with this but it’s been staring at me for too long on my computer for me to do anything more with it. Hope you enjoy it anyway!
(Also on ff.net)


“Hinata, hey!” Naruto exclaimed as he opened the door of his apartment. “Thanks so much for coming over to help me unpack.”

“Of course,” Hinata smiled, stepping in. Boxes were strewn all around the floor of the empty apartment, stacking up around the lone couch in one of the rooms and the table in the small kitchen. Bright, heady sunlight streamed through the tall open windows that took up the majority of the wall the couch was facing and a fan hummed in the background, fighting the humidity of the summer day.

Keep reading

50 Odd Questions
  1. Which breakfast cereal best matches your personality?
  2. If you had to amputate one of your fingers, which one would you pick?
  3. Do you prefer personalized keychains or personalized coffee mugs?
  4. Which object in the room you’re in right now would make the best pet (not counting any animals in the room)?
  5. Which amphibian is the cutest?
  6. If you were a superhero, what career would your arch-enemy’s alter-ego have?
  7. Would you rather have your bedroom completely decorated with life-like dolls, or paintings of clowns?
  8. Which instrument will you force your future child to learn?
  9. What crime do you think you could get away with if you tried?
  10. What’s your favorite toy to play with during a bubble bath?
  11. Who would you dedicate your first novel to?
  12. If someone were to make a movie of your life, would it be a space opera, a Western, or a buddy cop flick? Yes, these are the only three genres you’re allowed to choose from.
  13. Which animal would you most like to be killed by?
  14. Who is your spirit Muppet?
  15. Would you rather live in a mailbox or a teapot?
  16. You can only wear one hat for the rest of your life. Which one do you pick?
  17. What is the most interesting thing you could do with styrofoam peanuts?
  18. If you had to kill someone, which song would you listen to while doing so?
  19. How many pairs of socks would you need to own before you can be truly happy?
  20. What’s your favorite office supply?
  21. Which TV theme song enrages you the most?
  22. You’re the first person ever to contract a horrifying, deadly illness, and they let you name it. What do you call it?
  23. Which US President do you think would give the best massages?
  24. What is your least favorite dog breed?
  25. Would you rather give up your family or air conditioning?
  26. Which food do you consider the saddest?
  27. What emotion does the word “effervescent” make you feel?
  28. Which zodiac sign do you think is the worst at playing chess?
  29. Would you rather have to wear headphones 24/7 for the rest of your life, or never be allowed to wear headphones again?
  30. Which is more attractive: nose hair or ear hair?
  31. Which cartoon character would you most like to have as a parent?
  32. Would you give up one of your eyeballs if in return you got eternal, unlimited, free high-speed wi-fi?
  33. If you were stranded on a desert island, which T-shirt would you want to be wearing?
  34. At what age did you first have Pop Rocks?
  35. What is your favorite alkaline earth metal?
  36. Which music genre would best describe your plans for the future?
  37. Which bird tastes the best?
  38. What musical instrument would be your ideal weapon?
  39. How many times per week do you perform a ritualistic sacrifice to O’zzurhol, Lord of Shadows, Praise Unto His Unholy Name?
  40. What is your biggest fruit-related regret?
  41. Which Disney villain henchman is the hottest?
  42. What’s the most embarrassing object you’ve ever injured yourself with?
  43. Is there any song in existence more horrible than “Happy Birthday”?
  44. Which insect would you most like to be for a day?
  45. If someone were to hand you a pool noodle right now, what is the first thing you’d do with it?
  46. Which five-syllable word best describes you?
  47. If you got to go on a date with your celebrity crush, which fast-food restaurant would you choose for it?
  48. If someone were to build a shrine to you, which scent should the candles be?
  49. What would you name your band, assuming that your genre was bluegrass dubstep?
  50. Which Disney Princess are you most afraid of?

anonymous asked:

minions are interesting. i would like to run some experiments and dissect them some time. not just to see what their anatomy is like, since i'm very curious, but something satisfying about slicing open a minion. i imagine it would be like cutting a peach, or a styrofoam peanut.

ah, a budding minion researcher. i’m also really curious about minion anatomy. the poster for the movie features minion butts, but they look kind of plastic, and their legs shoot right out of the bottom. and it looks as if there’s no actual butt crack, just the suggestion of one.

don’t they look plastic? what would be the purpose of giving minions buttcheeks? if they have butts (functional or not), do they have genitals? Minions Uncensored features minion memes with a censor bar over the front. what is it covering? what is THIS:

we need answers

Is there ANYTHING salvageable from Machinima’s “Combiner Wars” series?

My relationship with Transformers media has rarely been about the whole, the end product. Laregely because that has averaged out to “okay to mediocre” for most of the franchise’s lifespan. There’s been a definitely uptick in overall quality in the last decade in cartoons and comics, to be sure. But by and large, I still approach TF fiction like a buffet table: I take away the bits I like, that’s what I’m here for. The parts, not the whole. What can I enjoy in bits and maybe craft into my own go at it?

While individual installments may or may not deliver, pretty much any “series” of Transformers that exists, I’ve been able to walk away with some elements that I thought were worthwhile, worth picking up, polishing off, and trying again in a new context. Even fictions widely derided as awful. An interesting character portrayal. A plot point that maybe didn’t get explored as much as it should have. Or just something plain-old done well and can be enjoyed when removed from the larger context. Something new brought to the buffet, something unironically positive that should have its place in TF history.

The Bay movies? Oh yeah. Lots of elements and ideas and action-scene executions I like that generally slam together into an incoherent mess (which is also exactly how I feel about the 1986 movie). The Energon cartoon? A smorgasbord of great ideas and potential that was promptly whizzed down the legs by lowest-bidder production. Kiss Players? You gotta pressure-wash the skeeze away from the front end, but it’s full of non-skeeze elements that I think are interesting ideas, and some characters worth bringing back. Dreamwave G1? Well, once you get past the godawful first 6-issue series, there’s some notions in there worth re-examining, sure.

But what does Machinima’s Combiner Wars series bring? What does it have that is worthwhile, worth bringing forward?

For the life of me, I’m drawing a blank. This thing barely has any ideas, let alone ones worth delving into. And so, so much padding. Its one new-new entity, Maxima, is a blank slate hi-then-die like a hundred others before her, and even the “her” isn’t really that special anymore as there’s been a lot more female TFs across multiple fictions, many of whom got better (read: any) characterization, many times with even less “screentime”.

The whole enterprise rings so shallow in a way that can’t even be excused in the same way Cyber Missions can be. We’re left with a fictional styrofoam peanut. It just sits there, filling up space.

Help me out here.

Christmas Traditions

Merry Christmas Everyone! :)

Christmas for some people is a joyous thing that is a time of giving and love, but for you it mostly meant having a real reason to play Christmas movies all day without getting any crap for it. Robbie wasn’t sure how many times he heard, A Christmas story, along with How the Grinch stole Christmas and Home alone play in the living room while you sat like a child laughing at all the funny moments, but he didn’t want to ruin it for you. Every morning before the two of you would go off to work he would hear the television going and would later find you going about your day with E/C eyes glued to the screen. He honestly thought you were obsessed, but you just loved the humor they put into the movies.

 It was already the third week into December and You and Robbie were putting the final decorations on your shared apartment, it literally looked like Christmas had thrown up everywhere. All around the apartment were decorations, from tinsel to hanging Christmas lights. It wasn’t that Robbie hated Christmas, it was that you took it to the whole nine yards. When December first hit you spent the whole month just trying to perfect the Christmas theme in the apartment only to have the decorations be taken down on the last week of January which drew Robbie insane. It was a miracle you hadn’t suggested caroling.  As Robbie held the ladder steady as you climbed to place the last of the ornaments onto the green Christmas tree he heard you quote another line from F/C/M.

Looking up at you Robbie gave you an annoyed look while you just smiled down at him while sticking your tongue out.

“Don’t you ever get bored of watching the same movie over and over Y/N?” he asked with a smirk on his face.

You just shook your head, as you placed another glass ornament onto the tree branch. “One like me does not simply get tired of Christmas movies….now Christmas music,” you said with an irritated sigh, “Is a different story.”

Robbie couldn’t help but laugh at the way you mentioned Christmas music, even though you loved Christmas you couldn’t stand Christmas music, and he didn’t blame you. Some tunes that were played over and over just got plain annoying. Turning around to face Robbie with a smile plastered on your S/C face you wrapped your arms behind his neck and jumped into his arms suddenly. “Thanks for being my little helper and holding the ladder.”  Robbie held onto you tightly, “Anytime.” Leaning into kiss you his lips hoping to get some kind of reward for getting up with you at eight to finish decorating but was met but thin pieces of plastic that stuck to his lip. You giggled at the look Robbie gave you.

“Oh no you don’t, we still have to clean up all the boxes and you have to put the star on top!”

Okay maybe now you were taking it a little too far.

After another two hours passed by with the two of you shoving empty boxes back where they belonged along with having your Styrofoam peanut fight you were both exhausted now laying on the couch with the television playing the polar express. You rested you head in Robbie’s lap as you watched the movie play on the screen while he draped his arms over your waist while staring around the now finished apartment. He had to admit that if he wasn’t dating you he would have never thought to do any of this much decorating of even invest money into a tree.

“Hey Robbie?”

He tore his eyes away from the tree down to look into your doe like eyes, “Hmm?”

“What’s in the box over there?” you asked motioning over to a small white box next to the tree.

He looked over to the box with curiosity but had no idea what was inside, “I’m…not sure….hold on.” After managing to convince you to let him up from the couch he picked up the small box and opened to see what was inside.

‘Oh this is gonna be good…; he thought devilishly. He turned back to you and presented the most angelic smile he could muster and chuckled, “Just another empty box love.”

Not giving it another thought as Robbie took his seat back onto the couch you maneuvered your way to sit on his lap while wrapping your warm F/C blanket around the both of you.

“You know I really do like spending our Christmas days like this, “Robbie sighed contently as he brought you closer, “Just you and I….alone…”

Okay now he’s acting weird, you thought, you turned your gaze onto him with a raised eyebrow, “Robbie what the hell-“

Looking up above your head a sudden blush covered your face as he held the small damn plastic mistletoe he had bought you last Christmas, every chance he got last Christmas he had managed to capture you under the damn thing which would lead the two of you to end up spending endless days in bed together. It’s not that you didn’t like participating in the ancient Christmas tradition but there was only so much a person could take!  You mentally cursed yourself for not hiding it better, this year you would hide it under the mattress.

“Come on.” He laughed,”You know the rules.”

Giving in with a laugh along with him you pressed your smooth lips onto his softly and quickly, after all, the movie was still on. Robbie however had something different in mind. Dropping the plastic decoration his hand snaked around your waist putting the both on you in a laying down position, you felt his hands snake around your waist pulling your body closer to his.

“Robbie…Come on, the movie is still on!” you complained.

Lust filled green eyes sparked brightly as he flashed you his signature smirk, “Don’t worry love, I paused it….so we have all the time in the world.”