who needs road

Again, I’m sitting here with not much to say on the episode since so much is in the text. Dean’s yelling at the end of the episode just compounded what we understood from 13x02, that Dean can’t separate Cas’ death from Jack’s existence. The show established this last episode but escalated it in tonight’s. Dean tells Sam that there’s a difference in how he’s dealing with Cas’ death and how Sam is. The two are not equal, can NOT be equal, because the relationships are inherently different. Sam tells Jack that Cas is his family. Dean has said this, too. But here the show is also saying that while Sam and Dean both call Cas “family” and see him as such, that the two relationships have a distinct difference, which is not yet clarified. My good people… my friends… there’s really only one way this can go if the text keeps coming, and indeed it does.

The show’s use of negative space here is stifling. The question is asked: “If Cas is family to both Sam and Dean, then what EXACTLY does Cas mean to Dean, if Sam and Dean see him two vastly different ways? WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE IN SAM/CAS AND DEAN/CAS?” That’s it. That’s the question the show is most definitely asking. It’s “what broke the connection?” but a thousand times more specific. Honestly, truly, there’s no extensive meta necessary to even discuss this anymore on any “secret” level. Everything is right there. There’s the question.


The curious case of the many parents of Angus McDonald

Or, after the end of the world, there’s a house with too many bedrooms, a spaceship parked in their garage, and one boy detective who is everybody’s son.


“I’ve been to school before,” Angus says reproachfully. “It’s not like it’s my first time.”

“Yeah, but this is fantasy middle school,” Magnus says, brandishing the camera like a weapon. “We’re just excited for you, kiddo.”

“We never went to school,” Lup says thoughtfully. She plucks the camera from Magnus’s grasp. He pouts. Angus giggles.

“Yeah, we were always on the road — who needs it! I don’t see why we can’t just homeschool him,” Taako complains. “He’s been doing fine getting tutored by me ‘n Barry 'n Luce. I bet he’s way ahead of everyone there.”

“Probably, but he’s gotta make some friends who aren’t us. You know, kids his own age,” Barry says. “Don’t want him turning out like you two.”

“Babe!” Lup says indignantly. Barry laughs. “Sorry, hon.”

“Fuck off, Barold,” Taako says. “We’re perfect.”

“He’s right, though,” Lucretia says. “But there’s something to be said for homeschooling…”

Merle rolls his eyes. “Stop coddling the kid. Mavis loves school, he’s gonna be fine. Kid helped save the world, if you don’t remember.”

“Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Angus asks plaintively. “I’m not a kid, I’m eleven years old.”

“Sorry, Agnes,” Taako flicks Angus and Angus wrinkles his nose. “Hey, just say the word and we’ll ditch this whole 'school’ plan, a'ight, pumpkin?”

“I’ve never been to middle school before,” Angus says thoughtfully. “I think it might be interesting.”

“That’s the spirit,” Lup says, and snaps a picture of Angus wearing his new backpack.  

“Wait, we gotta get one with all of us,” Magnus says. “Where’s Cap'nport?”

“Getting the car,” Lup gestures to the garage behind the house. Angus’s eyes widen.

“You mean the spaceship? I can’t go to school in a spaceship!”

“Why not?” Magnus’s brow furrows. “It’ll be really fast.”

“The school’s a ten minute walk away,” Angus says. “I can just walk.”

“You su-ure?” Lup says. “You could go to school in a spaceship. That’s pretty fuckin cool, right?”

“Please? I just want to look normal,” Angus says. “I can’t investigate anything if everyone is paying attention to me.”

Barry laughs. “You’re a weird kid, you know that, Angus?”

“Thank you? I think?”

“It’s a good thing,” Barry assures him. “Alright, I’’ll go grab Cap.” He ambles away from the group and toward the garage.

Taako sighs theatrically, and holds out a brown-bag lunch. “Well, if you’re so set on this 'school’ thing, there’s no way you’re eating that garbage that passes for cafeteria food. I packed your favorite, Ango, and if any of the kids want some of your chips, you know what to do.”

Angus grins and nods, eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “Thank you, sir! I magic missile them, right?”

“Yup,” Lup and Taako say in chorus.

“No!” Lucretia says.

Angus laughs. “I’m just kidding, ma'am. I’m not gonna do that.”

Lucretia sighs. “Taako, if Agnus gets in any trouble, it’s going to be you going to the parent-teacher conference.”

“Cool,” Taako says. “I’ll just make Lup do it.”


“What? You still owe me for leaving, Lulu.”

Lup groans, but doesn’t deny it. Barry returns, with Davenport in tow. “Okay, picture time.” Lup grins, and snaps her fingers. A red mage hand springs into existence and grabs the camera. “Alright! Everyone get in here!”

There’s a few minutes of finagling as people pose and change positions and Lup moves the camera around. Between Davenport and Magnus, there’s a solid three feet of height difference, which makes for a difficult photography experience. Eventually, they find a configuration acceptable to everyone. Angus ends up being held up by Magnus, which is a little patronizing, but overall nice.

“Say cheese!”


The camera flashes. Barry glances at his watch.

“Shit, you’re gonna be late, if you don’t leave now.”

Angus immediately stops smiling, and starts wriggling his way out of Magnus’s arms. “Oh no! Sir, please let me go!” Magnus releases him, and Angus bounds forward, before glancing back.

“Bye! I love you!” Angus waves, and starts running down the street. “Love you too!” Magnus calls. The seven members of the Starblaster’s crew watch the front door slam shut behind him.

“…So we’re following him to school, right?” Magnus turns to Lup. She nods decisively.

“Oh yeah. He’s eleven.”

Merle rolls his eyes again. “The kid was taking a train alone last year, he can handle himself!”


merle: the one person here who has Actually Had Kids

everyone else: Weirdly Overprotective Over Their New Son

angus: excited for school!

oh my sweet summer child, you do not know what horrors face you in middle school.

Chocobros + Nyx | Favorite Vehicles HC

Tagging @glaive-eve, @vashiane@drpepper280 for helping, especially with Ignis and Gladio 💕 

Noctis | Audi R8 Star of Lucis - Spyder Model

Was there ever any question as to what Noctis’ car would be? As much as he loves the Regalia, it’s not the same when the R8 boasts a V10 engine that can hit 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds with a top speed of 205mph, almost triple that of the Regalia.

The first time Noct picks you up in his convertible R8 Spyder you raise a skeptical brow at him. It’s impractical (only seats 2, no hard roof), it’s loud (man does that engine roar) and to top it off, it’s ostentatious (the sleek supercar sticks out like a sore thumb, even in downtown Insomnia). The car is the exact opposite of your Prince. 

But boy does he love this car. When you first get in, you’re hesitant, but the moment Noct grins wickedly at you –  an expression you rarely see – and revs the engine, something within you snaps. His cocksure smirk along with the hard vibrations of the V10 does something delicious to you; your thighs already squirming together in anticipation. 

Once you’re out of Insomnia and on open roads, the car comes to life, roaring across the plains. Noctis shifts through the gears seamlessly, the look of sheer concentration and wicked delight on his face is something you’d never forget. 

Top down, wind in your hair as you take in the beautiful scenery under the starlit sky, you begin to appreciate the Prince’s impractical choice in cars. But what you really love about the car, is this other side it brings out of Noct.

Usually quiet and reserved, the car seems to bring about his more untamed self. He’s more open with you, a little more talkative, a little more mischievous, something you used to only see when he interacts with his closest friends.

Right when you reach your destination, a lonely plateau in Duscae overlooking nothing but wilderness, Noct is on you. His hands, lips, body. Before you know it he’s pulled you roughly on to his lap. You’re straddling his hard length as he desperately tries to undo your jeans with an eagerness that sends a jolt of desire straight to your core.

There is a certain intoxicating exhilaration in riding the Prince of Lucis into a shuddering orgasm out in the open wilderness.

At the end of the night, you’re convinced you love the car almost as much as Noct does. The next time he picks you up, you’re properly dressed, flowy skirt sans undergarments. 

Prompto | tokyobike Classic Sport Bicycle

Prompto is all about animals and exercise, so you’re not surprised that his choice mode of transportation is by bicycle (Why pollute when you can exercise and help the environment in one fell swoop?). It’s quite minimalistic and really only seats one. When he arrives, brow damp with sweat, slightly out of breath and little bike bell going “ring-a-ding-ding,” you can’t help but think a) how adorable he looks pedaling up to you and b) how the hell were you and the picnic basket were going to fit?

“Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says as he proudly pulls out a single tulip for you (Where had he even been hiding that?!). You’re flattered, but what makes your heart flutter is the expression on his face as he hands it to you - open, earnest, and happy; happy to see your smile grow at his small gesture. 

After a few minutes of fidgeting, somehow Prompto manages to strap the basket on to the back of his bicycle and somehow you manage to sit sideways along the bar in front of him. It’s not comfortable by any means, but being trapped between Prompto’s arms, his breath hot against your ear, as he pedals to your destination more than makes up for the slight discomfort. 

So off you both go, on a wobbly start. The journey takes a little longer than usual and you feel a little guilty that Prompto’s carrying all the weight, but he wont switch with you, no matter how much you insist. “It’s good exercise!” he chirps cheerily as he continues to pedal. 

By the time you arrive at the park, Prompto’s drenched in sweat, but you don’t care. You’re flustered and a little impatient from having his hot breath against your neck the whole ride. You pull him by the collar for a kiss. Surprised, he sputters a “W-wow,” face tinged with a pretty blush as he leans in for another.

The picnic lies forgotten. You need him, now. A little sweat never bothered you anyways. 

Gladiolus | Mercedes-Benz G65 SUV

When Gladiolus pulls up next to you in his tank of a car, you almost burst out laughing because, of course he’d drive a Mercedes G65. Between the car and his smug, “Hop in, baby girl,” you’re not sure if you want to hide or melt. Fifteen minutes into the ride, you realize that the former was probably the better choice.

As you grip onto the door for your dear life, the only thought that runs through your head is “Gladio drives like a freaking maniac!” When he had asked you to go on an “adventure” this was not what you had in mind. Traffic signals? Who needs them. Roads? Those are for the weak. Animals and/or pedestrians? Road kill. Seriously though, as much as you love this man, there’s no way in hell he’s driving you anywhere ever again.

Unsurprisingly, you arrive at your destination deep in the Nebulawood in record time (“The roads are too out of the way, it’s faster if we just cut through.”) Gladio feels a little guilty at how pallid your skin appears so he lets you rest in the car as he sets up camp. When you’ve recovered enough to join him, you’re surprised to find Gladio dozing off in a folding chair, his book hanging dangerously off his lap. Good, you think, because he’s not getting any sleep tonight.

You attempt to wake him with a surprise, but his amber eyes open before you could get started and the next thing you know he has you pinned against the tree with your hands restrained above you. Smirking, he says, “I was in a rush to get us here so we’d have a little extra time together for the nice dinner I planned out…and maybe something more. But if you want to skip ahead, I’m more than happy to indulge you.”

As he hooks your legs around his waist, grinding his length into your core, all you could think was, Screw dinner, I’m having you tonight.

Ignis | He’s blind, he doesn’t drive Volvo S90 Sedan

If ever asked, perfect is the one word you’d use to describe Ignis. Perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly pressed shirt, perfectly refined eloquence, perfectly perfect. His car, of course, while understated and much more practical compared to that of his friends, is also perfectly Ignis.

Without the need for speed or off-roading, the Volvo S90 is indeed the perfect car for Ignis. It’s understated and classy with its beige leather and pine wood accent, equipped with state-of-the-art touchscreen technology, loaded with more options than you would ever need, but essential  for the adviser to the Prince.

When you get in the car, classical music from the Insomnia Philharmonic is already gently playing from its superb speakers. Ignis hums quietly along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the piece. Between that and Ignis’ smooth driving you’re quickly lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Upon arrival at Cape Caem, Ignis wakes you with a gentle, “Kitten, we’ve arrived,” holding out his hand to help you from the vehicle as he wraps a cashmere throw around your shoulders to keep you warm.

Once you’ve made your way down to the beach, you spend the next few minutes watching the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. It is so perfect you feel like you could die…if not for your grumbling stomach. You tense at the sound it makes, hoping Ignis doesn’t notice, but relax as Ignis snaps his fingers and mumbles, “I knew I forgot something.”

A decidedly unlady-like snort escapes you as you turn around to kiss him. Ignis wasn’t perfect all the time, but he was perfect for you.

Nyx | BMW R nine T Pure Motorcycle 

You almost kick Nyx off his ride the first time he “picks you up” because that’s exactly what he tries to do – holler at you as if you were a two-bit whore. He stops his bike (albeit impressively) one foot away from you and whistles loudly, catcalling as if you were a piece of meat. With his face obscured by his helmet, you almost knock the offending asshole onto the ground until you notice that his leather jacket is suspiciously familiar and that those boots were definitely Kingsglaive issued.

As Nyx removes his helmet, shaking his braids free and running his hand through his hair, you are torn between throttling him and taking him now. If you thought you had it bad before, boy are you in for a rude awakening. He’s clad in all black: cotton V-neck shirt underneath worn leather jacket, leather gloves over calloused hands and, the best part, tight jeans that show off the thickness of his thighs…among other things. 

"Get on,” he orders as he throws you a helmet. You let him boss you around, just this once (Who are you kidding? You secretly love it when he’s demanding), because you’re just as impatient as him to have your arms around him. Once you’re on and situated, he doesn’t wait to take off, swerving in and out of traffic fifty above the speed limit. Your only option is to hold on to him for your dear life, and when he chuckles at the tightening of your embrace as he speeds all the faster, you know this asshole planned this all along.

But you can’t complain, not really. It’s an easy excuse to enjoy the burning heat of his body, the hard planes of his chest, and the sweet intoxicating musk of his scent – fire, sweat, and cedar mixed into something uniquely Nyx.

Once you’re past city limits and feeling brave enough, you throw your arms up in the air, exalting in the feeling of freedom and adrenaline as Nyx carries you off into the dusk. Being the cheeky bastard that he is, Nyx suddenly brakes causing you to let out a scream as your chest slams against his back and your hands slam down in panic, grasping the closest thing in reach. He laughs so loudly, you can feel the rumble of his chest against yours, as he says, “If you’re that eager, I have no problem making you scream again, right here, right now.”

Your first thought is, “WHAT?” and your second is, “Oh. Oh…” when you realize you’re grasping the junctures of his thighs, fingers brushing the inner parts (where he’s most sensitive) and the growing bulge of his erection. You grow silent as you hotly blush, unsure of how to respond because wow, this is moving all too fast for you.

Nyx chuckles, for the second time today, at your expense and says teasingly, “Don’t worry. I don’t put out on the first date.”

Keep reading

i wanna go on road trips with friends but i also wanna sleep

Whenever I see some misogynistic asshole going on and on about “horrible” feminists, and that if they’d stop being feminist, men would want to date and marry them, I always want to chime in and tell them I’d rather life my life solo then stuck with some asshole who mistakenly thinks I’m lesser because I’m a woman.

The Water Sign Dossier

Written on request by me, Brighidin, because you all can’t get enough of me and I’m stuck at my desk until 5


  • CURRENT LOCATION: in their bedroom, swaying softly to Lana Del Rey and putting the bedroom curtains over their hair so they can pretend they’re getting married
  • MISSION: Write a pointed how-to brochure on how to coddle your introvert friends, Jennifer
  • SKILLSET: eating peanut butter out of the jar while crying, ennui, passive-aggressive maneuvers, overthinking everyone’s behavior, romanticizing the past, those soothing video games that require no skill
  • VICE: wounded birds on the side of the road who need a Cancer’s tender touch to fix their broken wings. Or so they tell themselves


  • CURRENT LOCATION: in a bunker
  • MISSION: have a good time without getting caught by The Man
  • SKILLSET: hard drinking, lying, party planning, using beloved  interests from childhood as a crutch, running from Freudian impulses, avoiding coworkers’ nosy questions. More lies
  • VICE: the siren song of lo… None.


  • CURRENT LOCATION: lost in the desert
  • MISSION: defeat notorious homophobe Fire Lord Ozai by entering the Avatar State
  • SKILLSET: hand-patting friends every time they get dumped, saying OK to everything for the story, demisexual politics, finding themselves trapped in clubs
  • VICE: the drink, once they’re trapped in the club



anonymous asked:

6 & 18 with X-Men Quicksilver! I think those would make a hilarious story. Please and thank you. Love your blog :)

this is my first time writing for him i am nervous but also very excited i hope u guys like ahhhh

Originally posted by marveldaily

Title: Speedster.
Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader.
Words: 409.
Rating: T(Mentions of sex).

“I’m tellin’ you, plain chocolate is way better than these flavorful ones like.” You tilted your head and looked inside of the freezer at the local grocery store. Peter stood beside you, mockingly tilting his head as well, staring at the ice cream as you continued speaking, “Rocky Road. Who needs all the stuff inside of an ice cream?”

“But, all the stuff inside is what makes it delicious.” He countered with ease, crossing his arms and the leather of his jacket squeaking quietly as he did so. “C’mon, (Name). Rocky Road is where it’s at. All the way. All day, every day.” Giving you a charming smile, Peter quickly opened the freezer door, tugging out a chocolate pint and a Rocky Road pint. Peter felt the cold ice cream sticking to the warmth of his Atari t-shirt. It was a soothing feeling, but also began stinging the longer he stood there with it against his body. “We have to get home before the ice cream melts.” He said in a sarcastic tone of voice, “We’ve gotta be fast.”

“Not a problem for you.” You stated, taking the pints from his arms and walking towards the registers. He followed you, his silver hair bouncing as he did. Peter smirked, ever so slightly. The edges of his mouth were curled in amusement as you sat the ice cream down, ready to pay and head home. 

“I’m not that fast in bed, am I?”

“Embarrassingly fast.” You teased, feeling one of his arms snake around your body to pull you closer. “And I hardly think a grocery store is the place to have this conversation.”

“Hardly?” He asked, “I think it’s the perfect place.” 

Peter’s hand trailed downwards for a few seconds.

“Get your hands off my ass, before I rip them off.”

“Someone isn’t in a good mood today.” He uttered, defeated as he stood back and crossed his arms once again.

“No, I’m in a good mood,” Your retort was simple, “I’ve got to make sure the ice cream gets home to your mothers basement before it melts.”

“Ice cream is your priority? Really?”

“Well, when your boyfriend gives you .5 seconds of satisfaction every so often, you learn to take in the small pleasures in life.” 

“Low blow, (Name).” He held a hand over his heart, pretending to act offended by your words but still craned his head down to kiss your cheek. “Maybe we’ll work on that.”

mad max - space smuggler au

an untidy mashup of the space smuggler genre

warnings: smut?? allusion to smut. really no smut at all, but someone/s gets laid.

The Interceptor makes planetfall in the late afternoon.

It’s a rough descent - always is - but by the time they’re swooping over Joestown, Toast is trading banter with the Port Authority as though it were a leisure cruise. Max lingers at the back of the cockpit, an eye on the settlement below as it swims into focus. With a skilled touch Toast brings them in, permitting a thunk-thump that runs through the hull as Interceptor magnetises to the dock. They’re formally welcomed to the port and the radio chatter ends with a parting shot from his Navigator, who jams a toothpick back between her teeth and undoes her harness.

As the engine cycles down the solar shields fade first, flooding the console with the ruby shine of sunset. Throwing a hand up to shade his eyes, Max catches a matching grimace on Toast’s face as she swings out of the pilot’s chair, bare feet silent on the corrugated metal.

“It’s gonna’ be dusty out there Cap’,” she says, stretching.

“Mm,” Max says, and leaves the cockpit.

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Looking for new people to follow. :D

If you post any of the following:

  • Mad Max Fury Road
  • Sense8
  • Doctor Who
  • Hannibal
  • Agent Carter/Hayley Atwell
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  • Pirates of the Caribbean
  • cosplay
  • sewing
  • strega fashion
  • solarpunk

…in any combination, like or reblog this post so I can check your blog out. :D

ETA: I should say, I’m looking to follow people who tag for fandom, spoilers, topic, triggers, etc. Thank you for the response!


Santanico Pandemonium Appreciation Week [1/7]:

Why you love Santanico