#sorry neil armstrong

[neil-tournament]

FORGOTTEN MATCHUP!

#SO SORRY. OH MY GOD. I SWEAR I POSTED TBIS ONE. #neil gaiman #neil armstrong #polls

[whereonceiwasfire]

Hey, I saw you're taking drabble requests. How about this?

When Danny is in his early twenties, Vlad clones him again, resulting in a half ghost infant. Danny decides to raise the child as his own.

This was such a fun prompt, thank you so much for sending it in! I am so sure the monstrosity I've created here is not what you were asking for but I couldn't help myself lol. (As a side note: idk if anyone else remembers that Incredibles short with Jack-Jack from ages and ages ago but I was defs channeling those vibes).

“Jazz, you are a lifesaver,” Danny says, the words a breath of relief when he opens the door to find her on his stoop.

He looks exhausted, more so than usual, his dark, mussed hair matted; the bags under his eyes an even deeper shade of purple; his sweatshirt rumpled and twisted around his body, what looks to be coffee spilled down the front. 

He cradles Neil to his chest, making soft shhh, shhh, shhh noises as he bounces the burbling infant.

“Come in, come in,” Danny says, jerking his chin into the apartment as he steps back from the entryway. 

She obliges, scuffing her wet shoes off on the welcome mat as she does. 

“I still cannot believe you have a kid,” she says with a little laugh as she holds her arms out for the baby. 

Danny winces almost imperceptibly.  

“Y-yeah,” he says, before handing Neil over. 

“Is your sleep-deprived dada taking good care of you?” Jazz says in goofy baby talk, wiggling her finger in front of Neil’s face, beaming at him when he turns a big, blue-eyed gaze up at her. To Danny, she says an absent, “He looks just like you.” 

Danny chokes on a nervous laugh, and she lifts a gaze up to him, quirking an eyebrow. She knows that laugh. 

“What?”  she asks. 

“Oh shit,” he says, pushing his sleeve up and turning a glance down at a wrist that doesn’t have a watch on it. “I’m going to be late for my interview. Thanks a million for doing this, Jazz. Don’t know what I’d do without you. Best big sister ever, and all that.”

He leans forward to give her a kiss on the cheek, turns for the door like he’s on a mission.  

“Uh, Danny?” 

He offers her a hesitant glance over his shoulder as he seizes on the door handle. 

“Maybe change your shirt first?” she says, and he twists a look down at his stained sweater. 

He laughs. “Oh right, right.” 

Take two goes better—he’s in a button-down, has even brushed his hair, then thanks her again for watching Neil. She assures him it’s not a problem, and as the door closes behind Danny, she turns her focus down to her nephew in her arms. His little eyes are drifting closed, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths beneath his starry jumper—buttoned up all cattywampus. 

“Let’s get this fixed, and we can put you down for a nap. How does that sound, Neil?” 

He, understandably, doesn’t answer. But Jazz takes that as an affirmative—carries him to the change table in his bedroom, thoughts drifting as she sets him down and undoes the buttons of his jumper. 

Danny’s been so cagey anytime she brings up anything about Neil, and she doesn’t know exactly what that’s about. The most he’ll say is some vague story about a short fling, a surprise pregnancy, a mother that didn’t want to be involved. It’s the only thing that makes any sense, but she can’t help the sneaking suspicion that he’s lying to her. 

“Your dad is a weirdo,” she says teasingly as she tickles Neil’s bare belly. 

He hiccups a little laugh, but it’s then Jazz freezes, a cold shiver crawling up her spine as she runs the pad of her finger over a familiar birthmark on the baby’s chest.

But that’s… 

She shakes her head, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She can consider the implications when she doesn’t have a tiny human in her care.

Jazz stoops for the diaper bag to grab some baby powder, dropping it with a gasp when she straightens and the change table is empty. Her heart flip-flops in her chest, sweat immediately beading her brow, panic running through her veins like ice water.

Where did he go? 

“Neil?” she calls breathlessly, like he’s hiding, somehow—like he didn’t just disappear into thin air. “Neil? This isn’t funny…” 

She hears him make a little coo from somewhere, and her eyes widen as she throws a frantic glance around the room—twists back to the change table to find the baby kicking his legs out, making happy little noises, and clapping his chubby hands together. 

She looses the breath from her chest, but she’s no less disquieted as she returns to the baby, a creeping suspicion settling in. It won't leave her alone, even as she finishes changing Neil and tucks him into his crib without incident.   

When she’s satisfied he’s not going to wink out of visibility again, she turns on the baby monitor, turns off the light, and pads into the living room. 

Anxiously, she starts pulling out her cellphone—fidgets with the case for a moment. She doesn’t want to call Danny and interrupt his interview, but she also needs to talk to him. Like. ASAP.

Her fingers type out the message: good luck. Neils fine but pls call me as soon as ur interview is done. But she doesn’t have a chance to send it before something flickers past her line of vision, a spot in her peripherals. She glances up—lets out a startled shout when she sees the swaddled baby floating out from the nursery. 

“Oh, hell no,” she mutters frantically as she drops her phone and lunges for the baby. 

She misses him, her fingers just barely bumping up against Neil, pushing him gently out of reach like a balloon. But the motion wakes him, and he starts to cry, dropping from the air like a stone. Jazz dives over furniture like an Olympic volleyball player—manages to catch the bundle before it can crash to the floor. 

But Neil is not, happy. He writhes, and squirms, and wails, trying to free himself from the swaddle, his blue eyes now burning a furious, glowing green.

“Shhhh, don’t cry, baby boy!” she urges, dragging her aching body up off the floor, and trying to bounce the fussy child back into calm. 

He blasts a hole through his blanket in response, the little shot of energy narrowly missing Jazz’s face—leaving a charred, ashy crater in the ceiling instead. 

She gives the hysteric bubble of a laugh.

Well. Okay. This isn't really what she thought she was signing on for when she agreed to watch baby Neil for a few hours. 

By the time Danny finally gets home from his interview, the apartment is in disarray. Furniture is tipped over, smoking holes have been blasted through everything, the lamp is broken, and there’s a distinctly fang-shaped bite taken out of Neil’s favorite teddy bear. Jazz’s hair is a snarled mess, eyes wide and wild, a smudge of soot on her cheek, the baby quietly sleeping in her arms. 

She glances up from where she sits cross-legged on the floor in a barrier of cushions, brow dropping low over her eyes when she catches sight of Danny. 

“So,” she says evenly. “I think we need to have a talk about Neil now.”   

#drabble requests #phanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #baby clone oc #yeah like neil armstrong lol #because you know danny totally would #dp-marvel94 #thanks for the request! #sorry it got so long!

[almondamaretto]

dumb

matt sturniolo x afab!reader

summary: matt thinks you’re too smart for him, so he decides that he needs to fix that

warnings: smut 😼😼, dom!matt, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), praise, dumbification kink???

for u nasty bitches with a dumbification kink ahem me

also im writing this 1000% stoned out of my mind so it's gonna be extra juicy trust. not proofreading ts !!! 🫶🏼😋

✄┈┈┈┈

You flutter your eyes awake as a low vibration from underneath you echoes through your head, a hand is gently caressing your head, the other being thrown around in emphasis.

Blinking the sleep away from your eyes and raising your head, your blurry vision is met with the black fabric of Matt's sweater.

You give his waist one last tight hug, before pushing yourself up and settling next to him, yawning dramatically.

Stretching your arms up, you reveal a small sliver of your skin from underneath your hoodie; immediately a wandering hand finds home around your waist, causing goosebumps crawl over your skin.

Enjoying the teasing touch of Matt's jewelry-ridden fingers, you avert your attention to the theatric and passionate discussion in front of you.

"No, I'm telling you, the moon landing is not real! Because, like-" Nick sat at the edge of the couch eagerly.

Cutting his brother of mid rant, Matt's hand gripped your waist slightly tighter; "No, cause like...why haven't they been back to the moon in all these years!?"

"That's a good point"

"That's what I'm saying!!"

You shake your head, furrowing your brows "What the fuck are you idiots talking about?"

"Y/n."

"Chris?"

"Do you believe in the moon landing?" You frowned, stuttering over your words for a moment. "You don't?"

"Y/n, just think about it! Its been, what, 50 years since Neil fuckin' Armstrong supposedly 'landed on the moon.' So why haven't we been back?"

"And don’t say its a money problem."

"Would you guys like some reasons?" You were always careful to ask before sharing your extensive knowledge---no one likes a know it all.

Watching the three of them nod, you sigh and lean back into Matt's side, crossing your legs over his, biting your lip as his hand fell onto your thigh.

"The main reason we ever went to the moon in the first place is because of the Cold War and the Space Race, 'cause America wanted to prove that they had the bigger dick and shit. That means it was super funded back then---over time NASA's funding went down."

Matt's cold rings press against the warmth of your thighs as he alternates between caressing the length of your thigh and kneading the plush skin of your upper thigh.

"But they could've saved money over time to do it!"

His hand travels further up your leg, threatening to breech the hemline of your shorts.

"They spend all their money on- ahem-on satellite stuff and tech-technology." You lift your outside leg to hopefully block the sight from Nick and Chris.

"N-not to mention they have to get the, the uh- timing just right to avoid landing on craters."

Quickly shooting your hand down to grab Matt's, you swallow roughly as his knuckle traces a circle over your clothed clit.

You see him smirk from the corner of your eye, silently cursing him.

"I don't even care that you have good points, I'm sticking with its fake."

When you don't respond, focused on hiding Matt's curious fingers, Nick and Chris alike are confused.

"You good, Y/n?"

"Girl... you look so focused that you kinda sorta look like you're ‘bout to throw up..."

"Yeah, Y/n/n. You doing okay, baby?" Matt smirks through a teasing voice.

Glaring up at him, you gather your words and place them carefully as his fingers snake under the band of your bottoms.

"Sorry, my head is just hurting from sleeping earlier. I may go to bed soon." You lie as your hand grips his tighter.

A warm hand is pressed to your forehead, followed by the clicking of a tongue.

"You feel warm, pretty. Lets get you to bed." Matt plays into the lie quickly.

Nick almost audibly gags from the other side of the sofa, gathering his stuff and stand. "Okay, after that I need to get away, I'm going to bed."

"Wait, what? You're just leaving me? Alone? Nick I'm coming with."

The pair's arguments grow faint as they climbed the staircase, Matt all but dragging you to his room, quickly closing his door and locking it.

He brought one hand to your hip and the other to the back of your neck, pulling your body flush against his. His lips fervently found yours, kissing you roughly as he walked you backwards.

The backs of your knees met the edge of his bed and you fell backwards onto the plush surface, bouncing up and down a few times as you watched him rid himself of his shirt before climbing on top of you, his lips attaching to your neck

You hum sweetly and wrap your arms around his back, one hand reaching up to rake through the hair on the nape of his neck.

His hands trace your sides diligently, squeezing the plush skin of your thighs as he caresses them, lighting every inch of skin on fire.

"So good, Matt."

He kisses his way back up to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as it opens in a gasp from his hand snaking under the hem of your shirt and grabbing your breast.

Melting into his touch, one hand grips onto his brown locks, trailing your nails lightly down his bare back with the other.

His tattooed arm trails up your front, hand finding home loosely wrapped around the base of your neck causing you to let out a whine into the heated kiss.

A trail of saliva connects the two of you as Matt pulls away from your lips, grabbing the end of your shirt and lifting it over your head.

His pink lips immediately attach to your right nipple, low whines falling eagerly from your bruised lips.

Pulling away briefly, he brings two fingers up to your mouth, resting them on your raw-bitten lips. "Suck" he demands simply, pushing his digits into your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue.

Matt continues to trail kisses down your sternum and stomach, leaving slow, teasing kisses just above the band of your shorts.

A teasing finger dips below the band of the blue striped shorts, pulling it away from your skin and letting it snap back into place. A whimper to fell from your filled mouth, prompting matt to press down harder on your tongue.

“What did I say? Thought you were supposed to be smart, baby” He teases condescendingly, lips still trailing down your front, leaving a slow and unsatisfying kiss right where you needed him most.

Your cheeks pull in as you suck on his fingers, humming out a whine as you mentally urge him to stop teasing.

As if he can read your thoughts, he pulls his now slick fingers from your mouth, using both his hands to smoothly slide your shorts and panties down, tossing them across the room.

He sits up, taking a moment to admire his girl, hooded eyes raking up and down your body with desire. "So perfect... my perfect girl."

You relish in his praise, avoiding his eyes in embarrassment as you try to cover yourself.

His large hands quickly find yours, pushing them down to your sides as he flattens himself against his bed, head hovering over your sopping wet folds.

Your hands fought against his hold as he nips at your inner thighs, soothing his marks with his tongue.

"Matt, please" A breathless moan escapes from your pleading mouth, causing him to stare up into your eyes, a smirk on his lips.

"What do you want, mama? Say it." He demanded, sucking a harsh mark just a few inches from your needy core.

"Fuck, Matt. I need you, need your tongue, please baby." Your right hand broke from his hold, immediately gripping onto his soft brown locks. "Good girl" You tug and exhale an audible gasp as he finally flattens his tongue against you, causing him to hum out a moan.

Matt traces shapes his name on your sensitive bud, occasionally wrapping his lips around you and sucking harshly, chuckling as your hips buck against his face in pleasure. He could die a happy man delving in your slick folds.

One arm pins you down by your hips, the other starting to circle your dripping hole in tantalizing strokes.

His actions quickly turned you into a moaning, whimpering mess, your babbling only spurring him on.

The once teasing circles turned into a quick thrust as he stretched you out, fingertips curling up into you, hitting that spot inside of you.

"Oh, fuck! Matt, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Feel good baby? Huh? Use your words." He said, pulling away for a brief moment before continuing.

The all-too familiar knot formed in the pit of your stomach; "So cl-"

As you began to speak, his movements became rougher and faster, forcing a near pornographic moan from your beat-up lips.

"Hm? What was that, ma?"

Both of your hands bury themselves in his thick hair, tugging as he fingered you roughly.

"God, m'so--fuck, Matt. I'm, m'so-so close!" You struggle to get out, hips pushing against his flexing arm as he pulls you to the edge, finally pushing you over with one last flick of his tongue.

Lower half shaking, you try to catch your breath, quickly finding the task difficult as he relentlessly continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your thighs close around him, but he still continued, prying them open with his other arm.

"Too much! Too much." You think your whine falls on deaf ears but he slowly pulls away, leaving one last quick kiss on your sensitive clit.

Matt traces gentle circles on your thigh as you come down from your high, only stopping to remove his sweatpants and boxers, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking himself slowly.

Your eyes drift to the sight and, biting your lip with droopy eyes, you slowly rise out of the bed, using his knee as support as you kneel in front of him.

His hand came down to gently hold your face, thumb caressing your cheek before pulling your bottom lip down, letting it bounce back into place as he pulled away. He gripped his length in his other hand, guiding it down to your pink lips, tracing them as he bit his own.

Opening your lips, you allow him to slowly enter your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip and doing circles along the bottom.

Your head bobs up and down as his fingers thread into your hair, a low moan escaping from your throat.

After a few moments, his grip tightens as he forcefully moves your head up and down on him as he pleases, a whiny groan falling from his pretty lips

"Don't have much to say now, do you mama? All choked up on my cock. Y'look so pretty takin' me down your throat."

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, swallowing roughly around him as you try not to gag—he only grunts louder.

He presses your nose to his trimmed thatch of hair for a few seconds, roughly tugging on your hair to pull you completely off him, gasping breaths escaping from your abused mouth.

Staring down at you in admiration, he smiles at your heaving chest and water eyes staring back up at him “So perfect, doll.”

He pulls you back up, immediately pushing you back on his bed and attacking you with hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing from your stomach to your lips. He rubbed his throbbing length against your slick folds, not missing the way you gasped against his lips.

Without warning, his hips push forward, splitting you open and eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

Your walls immediately clench around him, hearing a strained grunt fall from his throat

“Fuck, mama. Won’t last if you keep that up.”

You don’t respond, words dying off in your throat as his hips meet yours with a quiet noise.

His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his thrusts increase in speed and intensity.

Your words tumble out of your mouth like alphabet soup, stuttering and gasping and hiccuping instead of stringing together sentences.

“Not so smart now, hm? Can’t even form your words, poor dumb baby.” He mutters sinful nothings into your ear, pushing your thighs into your chest as his tip brushes against that spot.

A long whine escaped from you at the feeling, manicured nails digging into the skin of his back and tangling themselves in his chocolate locks, tugging.

The pain only encourages him to continue, busying himself with creating marks all along your chest and neck. He could listen to you desperate whines and moans all day, your delicious whimpers never failed to make his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A knot began to form in your stomach, and the world seemed to slow.

As you begin to tighten around him he slams his hips into yours at what seems like an impossible pace, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

“You gonna cum pretty girl? Tell me. Tell me what you need” He brings his thumb down to toy with your sensitive clit, watching with a smirk as you struggle with your words.

“G-gonna, mm-fuck! Gonna cum, Matt! P-please let me cum!” You cry out head falling against his plush, silk-covered pillow case as you urged yourself to hold it in.

His thrusts become uncoordinated, showing he was nearing his climax.

“Did-fuck, did so well. Cum for me, mama, let it all out” He serenades you with his strained voice, grunts threatening to become whimpers.

The knot inside you snapped, causing you to yell out in a moan that definitely upset both Nick and Chris and the neighbors.

You saw white as you release all over his cock, legs trembling with your orgasm against Matt’s hold.

He fucks you through your release, afterwards thrusting once, twice, three times, before pulling out and shooting white, hot lines across your abdomen, hushed moans falling from his pink lips.

You feel a few kisses being placed on the sides of your face and forehead, along with Matt’s heaving chest pressing against yours.

“You did so good, baby. Did I go too hard?” He asks concerned, brushing stray hairs out of your face and tracing your jawline carefully.

Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you “no, made me feel so good.” He smiles at the tired, fucked out voice you sported.

As much as he wished to stay in that position forever, he lifted himself off of you, despite your protests.

“Just gotta get you cleaned up, mama. Then we can lay here ‘till the sun burns out.” He said while picking up a random shirt and wiping you and himself off.

After taking care of you and making sure you both were comfortable and clean, he crawled under his warm comforter with you and attached himself to you, nuzzling his head into your neck.

Scrolling on his phone, he clicked on his unread messages.

Chris

Y’all are nasty

12:57 am

Nick

Go to a hotel next time cause what the fuck.

1:12 am

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[sussysluttyscorpio]

Random Astrology Observations Part-3

(This picture does not belong to me in any sorts)

~Libra mars and fleeing from any sort of confrontation. These people HATE arguing even for the things that should be argued about. And then they complain that people walk all over them, like "Bro stand up for your shit"

And even they do argue, they do a crap job at it. They end up getting too angry, throwing things and end up arguing about something completely unrelated.

~Aries moons are ✨healers✨ These people redeem their childhood traumas by healing others from theirs. Unintentionally. They just feel like they are doing what anyone would have done.

One of my good exes had this placement and he helped me with my unhinged and dark Scorpio moon a hell lot. Finally, I feel like I'm in a good place in my life for once. Protect these people at any cost.

~On that note, let's talk about Scorpio Moons. Sorry, not sorry, for calling it unhinged. I mean, I love my Scorpio moon but god, has it not made me overthink about the most unrelated and stupidest things.

Scorpio moon natives might often get nervous and emotional anxiety. They feel too intensely and that's where the problem arises. Majority people can't match their intensity. This makes the Scorpio moon native agitated that why don't people get them? The frustration then erupts in how the mars is placed.

If mars is in Libra, the Scorpio moon native in turn gets passively angered, don't know how to direct their anger and gets even more emotionally angered.

If mars is in Aries, the Scorpio moon native gets explosive in their anger. This might get ugly if they lose their shit. The type of people whose anger scares people.

Trigger warning: Nightmares, Death, Depression

~I've noticed this thing with Capricorn Neptunes in 8th house that even though they don't get nightmares very often or if they do, it is about death. Death of their loved ones or even themselves, which then affects their physical well being too. They might feel sick or emotionally burdened. Maybe even get depressed.

~If you wish to settle in foreign lands, look at your North node (Rahu) If it is in 9th, 10th or 11th house, there is a chance that you might get the opportunity to either go to a foreign nation for higher studies or maybe even settle down.

This is because Rahu is all about leaving your home to see the world or materialistic gains. And it gives good results in the 10th and 11th house since they are the Upachaya houses.

~On that note, Rahu in 11th is a huge fame indicator as well. A very common placement in celebrities or people who've gained fame.

(Will Smith, Neil Armstrong, Abraham Lincoln, Lady gaga and many more have this placement)

~But the downside of Rahu in 11th is that it may make the native egoistic. Also, their views about friendship might be marred by selfish gains. They are the people who go by "Use and Throw" in friendship🤡

~I read somewhere Sidereal Sagittarius moons have the best mothers. Ever. My mother has it too and her mother, aka my granny, is just 🤌🏻❤️

#astrology observations #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #libra #sagittarius #libra astrology #libra mars #mars #scorpio #scorpio moon #moon #aries moon #aries #capricorn #capricorn neptune #north node #rahu #north node in 11th #rahu in 11th #10th house #11th house #9th house #upachaya house #sagittarius moon #aries mars #vedicastrology #astrology tumblr #horoscope

[torchship-rpg]

Dev Diary 8 - Identities: Terrans & Lunars

Happy International Moon Day! Torchship is set 200 years after Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, with history diverging when Alexei Leonov followed him a few days later, keeping the space race hot through moon bases, Mars, and beyond. A bit like For All Mankind, if everyone was a bit less of a complete drama queen.

In celebration of the incredibly cool feat of somehow putting boots on another world, we’re going to be focusing today’s Dev Diary on the two human Identities which descend directly from the event; the Terrans who went there and the Lunars who stayed.

Terrans

We touched on Terrans in Dev Diary 2, as an example for how even the most ‘standard’ of human identities still has a lot of interesting Traits to draw from. Still, Terrans are very much the ‘default’ human identity, being the most populous human group. They’re called Terrans because they got upset about everyone calling them Earthlings, and it had a nice symmetry with Lunars.

Even before we get into the specific sub-Identities, each Identity is divided into a bunch of subsections which dive into various details about the group; where they live, what the environment is like, and what specific biological or genetic details you might need to know. Any of these can come with Traits; the Biology one is where aliens get their signature features, and humans get the developmental and genetic distinctions that set them apart.

(As an aside, these Identity entries are big. They’re not just a couple of paragraphs, they’re thousands of words about history, culture, and biology. Sometimes I get distracted and go on for four paragraphs about the Zinovian biological and cultural concept of sex and gender. Sorry not sorry.)

For Terrans, our Biology section includes our first two Traits. As mentioned last time, 1g is unusually high for humanoid life in the setting; most other species evolved at around half to maybe three quarters of that, and the various spacers will have grown up under even less.

This means that Terrans are a great fit for the Heavyworlder trait, which is one of the Gravity traits. This gives you better tolerance for high Gs (important when you’ve got to work on your spacecraft while under thrust) in exchange for worse penalties in 0g. Compared to a spacer who could spacewalk before they could normal-walk, you’re going to come off clumsy in freefall. You also get a bonus to Physical Instrument, the cert used for basic physical strength and endurance, and do more damage in melee.

The other Terran biological Trait is Baseliner. An assumption underlying every biological Identity is that unless we say otherwise, there’s genetic engineering afoot, either ongoing or in the species' past. While some of this is awful Gattaca-style eugenics nonsense, for Torchship’s humanity this has mostly been just some tidying up. Evolution settles for a lot of ‘good-enough’ solutions, so with a little bit of targeted editing we can do stuff like prevent cells from hoarding molecules they’ll never use, or use a chemical that’s actually good at the job instead of one that the body just had lying around.

Baseliner is the Trait where we say otherwise. You pretty much can’t survive off Earth without some genetic engineering; turns out even a pretty small reduction in gravity long-term is going to be bad for your heart, nerves, muscles, bones… your everything, basically. But if you and your family have always lived on Earth, you could well have gone the last hundred years without genetic editing. 

The downside is that it costs more XP to upgrade Physical Instrument and you take extra consequences from different levels of gravity, but on the upside you have an extra ten minutes in low Oxygen before consequences start setting in, and you have a higher tolerance for drugs and poisons. You might not be peak human performance, but all those redundancies can come in handy.

Once we’re done with biology, we move into the sub-Identities, which are specific regions or subcultures. Right now Terrans only have two; rural and urban. (I’ve played around with some others but I haven’t been happy with anything yet, send in your suggestions!). Urban Terrans live in the dense, futuristic megacities that dot future Earth, in communal archeologies that are like self-contained villages. Theirs is a life of beautiful buildings, abundant greenery, a different kind of library for everything, and a joyous excess of monorails. It’s everything you could have wanted from Usborne’s Book of Future Cities (1979) come to life.

Urban Terrans get recommended the following Traits; Polyglot (to get across the cosmopolitan nature of the cities), Well-Connected (to show your closeness to the Star Union’s bureaucracy), Divergent (because urban Terrans are exactly the sort of people who do recreational genetic modifications), and Communal Spirit, a trait which boosts the effectiveness of working together. This is a common Trait for many Human identities; it’s pretty much the one that models prosocial production practices in action. 

The Rural Terran trait represents a much smaller proportion of the population. These are the mix of farmers, ecologists, and indigenous groups piecing the planet back together after a close brush with climate change. Outside of lithium, there’s not a lot of on-world mining anymore (space mining has made it uneconomical) so this is mostly agriculture. These communities are relatively isolated, bypassed by the high-speed trains connecting Earth’s cities; the saying goes that Mars is closer to the cities than the farms are.

Rural Terrans get these Traits suggested: Biome Specialist (representing a familiarity in whatever regional ecology you grew up in), Stiff Upper Lip (farm work tends to toughen you up), Natural Esper (a lot of psychics try to get away from the crowded cities), and Trusting, a trait that rewards you for helping others, but makes you more vulnerable to manipulation and makes it stressful to initiate violence.

Finally, at the end of each Identity is a section dedicated to how this group fits into Star Patrol, and how their presence can result in extra Traits through social interaction with other groups. Here, the privileged, ‘default’, often somewhat thoughtless Terrans are recommended the Imposing trait, which gives you some bonuses for being intimidating, but makes it a little harder to get people’s trust. It also does a decent job representing how Terrans are simply more heavily built than anyone else in the Sol system; when you’re comparing to tiny Martians and spindly Spacers, Terrans are collectively a bunch of Conans the Barbarian. 

You grew up somewhere where air is free and water falls from the sky, and people are understandably sometimes hesitant to correct your ignorance because you’re three times stronger than they are. Terrans often have some growing up to do as they realise how they come off to others.

Lunars

In Torchship’s world, there have been moon bases since the early 70s, and people have lived on the moon full-time since the early 2000s. The Soviet moon base program eventually withdrew due to budget problems, leaving the ever-increasing network of American bases the sole full-time real estate on the moon. In the 2040s, Armstrong City took one look at the unfolding disaster that was the collapse of American capitalism and seceded. Playing up its neutrality, it eventually became the de jure capital of the Solar Union and, now, the Star Union, though in actuality this is mostly symbolic.

This is because living on the moon is genuinely very difficult. The gravity is just 16% of what it is on Earth, it’s airless, and there’s no atmosphere to stop the radiation. When people started living there, its only selling point at all was being closer to Earth than Mars was.

Now that people do live there, though, in a vast underground city, there turns out to be a second advantage. The Moon is very rich in mineral resources and very poor in biospheres you might destroy by aggressively mining them, and it’s incredibly cheap to get things to lunar orbit. This has ended up making the moon the industrial powerhouse of the Star Union.

Lunars are living in the most extreme conditions of any of the human Identities, which is reflected in their Biology Traits. Like Spacers, they get Freefaller, a gravity trait that is in most ways an inverse of the Heavyworlder trait. They might not actually be living in freefall, but the gravity is so low it might not make a difference. The very low gravity also means they are recommended Medical Dependency; humans simply were not meant to grow up in these conditions. Even with genetic modifications, some ongoing medical treatment for bone density or nerve issues, arising from being seven feet tall and effectively 30 pounds, is to be expected. Finally, Lunars are recommended the Wireless Brain Uplink Trait, an extension of the implanted medical monitors which were once standard on US moon bases for long-term survival.

Lunars also only have two sub-identities. The first are the Mazedwellers, those who live in Armstrong City itself. Armstrong City is built out of the subterranean mines of Luna, using the thick crust of the planet to protect against solar radiation. This makes the city a twisting, sprawling web deep under the surface, where space is at an absolute premium even beyond what Spacers experience. To live in these conditions but still contribute your industrial might to the Union, your town doubles as a factory floor, converting back and forth every day.

This gives Lunars a distinct identity in their work ethic; while everyone else can be more content working at their own pace, on Luna the faster you get the job done the faster you get your living room back. Your recommended Traits are Claustrophile (giving you a bonus in a space suit but mild agoraphobia), Driven (representing this unusual work ethic), and Shifting Gears, a trait which lets you have two sets of Personality Impulses, in this case representing the strict work-life divide that is at the centre of Lunar culture.

The other Lunar sub-identity is being a Yardworker. The Lunar Yards are the reason that humanity won the big space war; turns out running a slower-than-light multiplanetary civilisation requires an absolutely ludicrous number of spacecraft, so Lunars built an absolutely enormous and ever-expanding space station to do that with, using a giant railgun to shoot raw materials up to it and commuting every day with short-hop shuttles. In the post-FTL era, the sheer scale of the Lunar Yards means humanity can produce an almost comedic surplus. During the war, Lunars couldn’t serve in Star Patrol (see the end of the dev diary for why), so people started living on the Yards to make as many rockets as possible instead as a way of contributing.

Being a Yardworker is a prestigious job for a Lunar, and also a competitive one. Work never slows down, six shifts twenty-four hours a day. For this reason, Yardworkers share the Driven and Claustrophile Traits with their Mazedweller counterparts, as they aren’t that divergent. They gain the Voidborn trait (which gives bonuses for making repairs, cheaper upgrades to the Cosmonaut cert, and stress when your rocket is experiencing shortages) and the Cultural Tool trait, which gives you a bonus 4d6-era item you can carry atop the normal inventory. For Lunars, that’s your Yarkworker’s Marker, the thick-nibbed, vacuum-writing pen workers carry to leave each other vital notes about problems that could potentially kill them and/or draw dicks on the spaceship. The Yardworker’s Marker and all the little notes that crews would find in their spacecraft developed a mythology, which is why now it’s as much a badge of honour as a practical tool.

Finally, the Lunars in Star Patrol section touches on an important consequence of Lunar biology; being a Lunar was for life up until shockingly recently. They couldn’t even survive something as tame as Martian gravity even a few decades ago, which meant they could never visit Earth and couldn’t serve in Solar Patrol because their hearts couldn’t take the acceleration. This only changed in the past few decades in the form of an intense, and often rather painful, two-year series of treatments and acclimation.

This comes with two suggested Traits. The first is Augment, the trait we use to represent attempts at genetic engineering that go above and beyond the normal evolutionary cleanup, which can represent some of the extreme intervention and above-average effects it might have had. The other is Stiff Upper Lip, as per Rural Terrans, representing the adjusted pain tolerances you’re going to develop after undergoing something like that.

As you can see, Trait overlap is pretty common in these things, and of course these are just suggested Traits. Despite all the differences, everyone is a lot alike in most ways.

#torchship #torchship ttrpg #rpg #ttrpg #dev diary

[fellshish]

fells! yet another submission for gomens brainrot songs (i love this game tysm)…… superposition by young the giant. i discovered it at the same time i watched s1 so it will always be a brainrot song to ME but i argue that the space/astronomy theme and “collide the spaces that divide us” work quite well!

Sorry but if the answer to ‘would this song also be appealing to buzz aldrin/neil armstrong shippers’ is yes i must err on the side of brainrot

#gomens brainrot syndrome #my asks #i enjoy the song though!

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 3, Chapter 3

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Matt smiled as he walked passed the florist on his way to work, the rich, heady scent of roses filling the air.

Yesterday, that fragrant reminder of the upcoming romantic celebration had only added to his bad mood - the bad mood caused by a week spent worrying about Calina and her strange phone call, and a month and a half spent missing her. The fact that Valentine’s Day was approaching meant he was bitterly reminded of what was taken from them, and what other couple’s took for granted - the chance to be with each other.

But today, he was actually feeling…optimistic.

Calina may have been a few days early, but she’d given him the perfect Valentine’s gift:

Hope.

Her brief visit last night had spurned him out of his morose despondency. It was the catalyst he’d needed to realise that it was time to stop dwelling on the negatives and obsessing over what they’d lost.

Instead, it was time to focus on the positives. They were both still alive. Still healthy. And still fighting for each other. Distance didn’t matter. Being temporarily separated didn’t matter. They loved each other. They would have the rest of their lives together. A few months apart was nothing compared to the years to come.

Matt had been dealt some crap hands throughout his life - losing his sight. Losing his father. Losing again and again. But he’d always found a reason to stay in the game. To accept the defeats and find the will to carry on playing.

This was no different.

He just had to have faith that God’s plan would reveal itself.

And this morning, he felt like he was finally getting a glimpse of the tapestry. He was finally seeing the beauty in the chaos. This separation would only strengthen them as a couple. It would serve to reinforce their bond, and ensure that they never took each other - or their happiness together - for granted.

“You seem…better,” Karen commented when Matt reached the office.

Matt shrugged. “I feel better.”

“That’s good.” She gifted him with a wide smile, and Foggy patted him on the shoulder.

It made Matt realise how much his foul mood had been impacting his friends and their workplace. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “For being such a miserable bastard the last couple of months.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘miserable bastard’,” Foggy replied. “That’s a bit harsh. ‘Forlorn asshole’, maybe. Or ‘wretched son of a bitch’ would be more accurate.”

Matt laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll try to be more upbeat from now on.”

“What brought on this sudden change in attitude?” Foggy asked.

Matt couldn’t help his smile. “I saw Calina last night.”

“So you got laid! That explains everything!”

Karen slapped Foggy’s chest with the back of her hand. “God, Foggy.”

Matt just laughed. “No, it was just a quick visit. But it helped give me some perspective. It’s like you said, Fog - this is just a long distance relationship. It won’t last forever…and other couples go through similar experiences all the time.”

“Exactly, man. Astronauts.”

Matt smiled. “Yeah. Astronauts.”

“She’s Neil Armstrong, and you’re the little lady waiting back on earth.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Something like that.”

“Okay,” Foggy said, rubbing his hands together. “Well, since you’re in such a good mood, you can take point on the meeting with the new nightmare client, while I finish off the brief for the Chisholm case.”

“Nightmare client?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, a tenant dispute case. They’re arriving at 10.”

“Fine,” Matt agreed. Liaising with a difficult client was the least he could do to make up for his less than stellar performance the last couple of months. “But I have something to do first.” He held up the USB drive that Calina had slipped to him last night.

“What’s that?” Karen asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

Matt booted up his computer and plugged in the device. It contained a single large document which he printed off in braille and started scanning through. At first there was just a list of chemicals - the results of the analysis by the Widow scientist - but then Calina added some context.

And it changed everything.

“Guys?” he called out. “You gotta hear this.”

“What is it?” Karen said, taking a seat on the other side of his desk. Foggy joined them a moment later and leaned against the door frame.

“Calina found something.” Matt spun his monitor around to show the document on the screen. “Apparently, one of the main ingredients of the fear pheromone is something called Arsonium bromide. Its a chemical that environmental groups have been calling for greater regulation on, because it’s disposal has been linked to soil contamination which is affecting agriculture yields across the country. Those environmental groups were successful in convincing a prominent politician to lobby their cause to the EPA last year.”

“Okay,” Karen said slowly. “How does this help us?”

“That prominent politician was Governor Andrew Benson.”

“The guy Calina was supposed to assassinate?”

“Yes.” Matt leaned forward as he laid out Calina’s theory. “Two days after the failed assassination, Benson suddenly, and without warning, withdrew his petition to the EPA, and walked back all his previous objections to the chemical.”

“Somebody got to him,” Karen added. “Somebody with a vested interest in the use of Arsonium bromide.”

“Exactly. With Benson’s support, the environmental groups were gaining traction in their fight. So someone tried to take Benson out. And when that failed, they likely played off the assassination attempt as a warning.”

“Do as we say, or next time it’ll be for real,” Foggy guessed. “Which means whoever is behind the manufacture of the fear pheromone-”

“Is the same person who arranged for Calina to be reactivated,” Karen finished.

“It’s all connected,” Matt said. “If we find out who created the pheromone, we find out who ordered Calina’s mind control. And vice versa - if we can find out who paid to have their very own Widow assassin, we find our pheromone guy.”

“Holy shit,” Karen whispered, tilting the monitor so she could read through the information on the screen.

“I take it the Widows are concentrating on finding out who bought Calina’s ‘services’, for want of a better term?” Foggy asked, reading the screen over Karen’s shoulder.

“As much as they can - but they’re more focussed on hunting down Volkov. He’s the bigger threat to them right now. Which means we’ll be doing them a favour if we find this information first.”

“So where do we begin?” Foggy asked.

“I say we concentrate on researching this chemical. Where its manufactured, who buys it, and how.”

“I’ll start today,” Karen answered, scribbling in her notebook.

“What does this mean?” Foggy said, pointing to something on Matt’s screen.

“Which part?” Matt asked, shuffling through his print outs.

“The last sentence. It says, ‘I hope this helps, shereen-am.’ What is ‘shereen-am’?”

Matt tried to control his reaction. “It’s nothing. Just an inside joke.”

It wasn’t nothing. And it wasn’t a joke. But it was something private, just between Matt and Calina. He’d googled the phrase before calling the others into his office and found that it was a Persian term of endearment. Roughly translated from Farsi into English it meant ‘Honey’.

By using that term, Calina was reminding him of Christmas Day, when she’d whispered all those terms of endearment into his ear as they’d made love on the couch.

She was reminding him of a happier time, to help get him through the dark and lonely days to come.

Matt smiled as he skimmed his fingers over that word again: Shereen-am.

Calina’s visit last night had given him hope. The information on the USB had given him a lead. And the affectionate nickname on the end of her message had given him a glimpse of how things would be between them in the future.

It was a promise, of better times ahead.

———

“And then he grabbed her and kissed her!”

“It was like something out of a movie - the way he dipped her back, and with the two of them bathed in the moonlight with the stars twinkling overhead…”

Calina groaned and sank into her chair as Katya and Inessa gushed to the other Widows about Matt’s antics on the boat last night. The three of them had arrived back at the mansion at dawn, and after a brief nap, they were now debriefing the rest of the team.

But it had gotten a little side-tracked.

“‘Bathed in the moonlight’?” Sofia repeated. “Come on, Inessa, I think you’ve been reading too many of those romance novels.”

“But that’s exactly what it was like!” the younger Widow protested. “It was the most romantic, swoon-worthy thing I’ve ever seen!”

“That’s not really saying much, given the way we were raised,” Viktoria commented.

Inessa rolled her eyes, and opened her mouth to respond but Anya cut her off. “Enough about Calina’s love life. Did you find the warehouse?”

Calina sat up again. “Yes, enough about me. Tell them what you found.”

Anya had found mention on Ranieri’s laptop of a recent real estate transaction. Which wasn’t unusual in itself - the Ranieri family seemed to prioritise property and commercial investments over gambling on the stock market. But while the rest of Salvatore’s portfolio made sense for a party guy in his late twenties - night clubs, bars, trendy apartments in major cities across the world - a former wholesale carpet warehouse in an industrial estate in New Jersey did not.

So Katya and Inessa had been tasked with scoping it out. 

Katya tossed a USB stick to Anya. “Photographs and schematics as requested. The place was deserted - no personnel on the grounds - but it was spotless, with signs of a recent professional clean. It’s definitely being prepped for something.”

“Like a lab to manufacture the mind control serum,” Sofia guessed.

“Possibly,” Yelena interjected. “But we can’t get ahead of ourselves. We need more evidence. We need to be sure before we make any moves.”

“Agreed,” Anya chimed in.

“Which is why we planted a few cameras,” Inessa said with a cocky grin. “And several bugs. We’ll know soon enough what the plan is for that building.”

“Good,” Yelena responded. She looked around the room at the rest of the Widows. And a rare smile graced her face. “I know I just told you all to be cautious…but I have a good feeling about this. I think this is how we get Volkov. I think this will all be over soon.”

Several of the women whooped and cheered in response - a sign that Calina wasn’t the only one who was looking forward to this confinement ending.

And it also proved to Calina how much the Widows had come out of their shells over the last few months. They laughed more readily now. They expressed their emotions without prompting. Conversations flowed instead of stuttered, and there was an easy camaraderie between everyone.

The stilted, angry, and bitter atmosphere that often pervaded the base in South Carolina didn’t exist here in Maine. And Calina knew it had nothing to do with the change in scenery - the weather outside the mansion was dark and grey and wet these days, holding little of the sunny, vibrant beauty of Charleston.

Time was the reason.

They’d been given time to start the healing process. To learn about themselves and the world around them. Time to find their little moments of joy.

Joy that even Volkov couldn’t take away. If anything, the looming threat that he posed had the opposite effect - as if the Widows were defiantly enjoying themselves even more to spite him and his attempts to force them back into an emotionless, violent existence.

Calina would be sorry to leave this place when the time came. She no longer felt the need to escape this environment. Not like in the beginning, when she’d first been freed. Back then, she’d felt suffocated by all the pain and rage around her. She’d wanted to strike out on her own and discover who she was away from that toxic environment.

But everything was different now. Now she would miss living here with all her sisters.

Though not as much as she missed Matt.

Seeing him last night had been a rollercoaster ride. She’d swung from the lowest low of wanting to escape his presence, to the highest high from that kiss. Because as much as it made Calina cringe, Inessa’s description had been spot-on - it had been the most wonderful, romantic, swoon-worthy gesture in the history of the world.

But on the journey back to Maine, the high had worn off. And all her doubts and fears - and all the guilt - had come flooding back.

And all of it boiled down to one thing - she didn’t feel worthy of him.

She didn’t feel worthy of the kind of man who would fly a hundred feet through the air just to kiss her. She didn’t feel worthy of a man as amazing and kind and smart as Matt. A man who fiercely protected the strangers in his city, and could touch her with such reverent tenderness.

The kiss had made her forget all that. It had short-circuited her brain and over-rode all her negative emotions, until the only thing left was passion. She’d given in to the moment, to the feel of being in Matt’s arms again.

Which she’d known would happen. It was the reason she’d chosen that cramped, awkward crane jib as their meeting point in the first place. She’d known that if they’d met in his apartment, or on the pier - or anywhere else out in the open - he would have taken her in his arms and she would have been powerless to resist. She would have accepted his embrace and returned his kiss all the while feeling undeserving of him.

So she’d chosen that metal cage instead, as a way to deny herself.

As a punishment.

But he’d gotten around her little ploy. He’d kissed the life out of her on that boat deck, and everything else had faded away. How guilty she felt about Italy. How scared she was that if he truly knew her and everything she’d done as a Widow that he’d hate her.

How terrified she was that they were too good to be true.

“Calina!”

Calina lifted her head at the sound of her name. The other widows were all staring at her. “Huh?” she asked.

“You spaced out there,” Inessa explained.

“Sorry. Just tired,” she lied. “I’m going to head back to bed.”

The chorus of ‘Byes’ and ‘Sleep wells’ from her sisters followed Calina up the stairs, but she was already lost in thought again.

She didn’t know what to do about Matt and all these doubts she was having.

Did she share them with him? Admit her fears about not being worthy of his love? Could she even explain them without having to divulge all the dirty secrets of her past? Wouldn’t that just bring about the end of their relationship and defeat the purpose of the whole ‘sharing’ thing?

Calina fell forward onto her bed and smothered her frustrated groan with her pillow. Then she flipped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling as she contemplated the alternative scenario: being with Matt, with this constant pit of worry in her stomach. Revelling in his affection and his love whilst always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A tear leaked from the corner of Calina’s eye as she wrestled with all of these unfamiliar emotions. A tiny part of her longed for the days of being an unfeeling automaton…but she quickly squashed that treacherous notion.

This was better.

Despite all the uncertainty and pain and confusion, dealing with these emotions was far better than living as a shell of a human being under the Red Room’s control.

“Hey, you okay?”

Calina hastily wiped away the tear as Katya entered their room. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Katya teased, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve not been okay since Italy. Did something else happen there?”

Calina levered herself up to rest against the headboard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when you debriefed us after the mission you said Ranieri just got a bit handsy. Did something…more…happen that night? You can tell me.”

Calina shook her head. “No, nothing else happened.”

“So what is it? What’s going on with you?”

Calina’s first instinct was to lie again. To keep everything to herself. It was the way she was raised - the way they all had been. Even before the mind control serum took away their emotions they were trained to hide them. To bury their sadness and their loneliness and their pain. To never confide in anyone how they were feeling.

It was a difficult habit to break, but Calina was determined to tear away this next layer of Red Room conditioning. So she took a deep breath and told Katya everything. How she’d called Matt before the party in Italy. How having Ranieri’s hands on her felt. And how it was all messing with her head. “I know intellectually that nothing really happened,” she explained. “It was just a few unwanted gropes and a kiss on the neck - I’ve been through much worse on missions like that - but I just feel so…guilty. I keep imagining if it was Matt in that situation, and he’d let some other woman touch him. I would hate it. Which means I can’t tell him, because then he’d hate me.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Katya interjected. “If you just explain to him that it was a mission and you were playing a role-”

“But that would just open up this whole can of worms. About all the other roles I’ve played in the past, and the things I’ve done-”

“While under mind control, Calina.”

“Again, I know that intellectually…but don’t you still feel guilty about everything you did while under the serum?”

Katya smiled. “I feel guilty for stabbing you in Seoul.”

Calina rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious. We all did some really messed up shit for Dreykov. Doesn’t that…stick with you at all?”

Katya looked down as she picked at a loose thread in the bedspread. “Occasionally. Usually at night - my dreams are sometimes…not fun.”

Calina placed her hand over Katya’s remembering what it was like when she first arrived in New York - the endless nights spent pacing the rooftop, unable to sleep. “I’m sorry.”

Katya shrugged. “It’s fine. They’re just memories. The important thing is that I don’t blame myself for it. And you’re not to blame either. We were kids when we were brainwashed, and then we were forced against our will to commit all those acts.”

“But what about now? We’re acting on our own free will, and we’re still murdering and stealing-”

“Yes, to stop the bad guys!” Katya protested. “We’re on the side of good now. And we have the rest of our lives to be on that good side, and to make up for everything we’ve done”

“Can we, though? Can we possibly balance a ledger with so much red in it?”

“Now you sound like Natasha. And look what she’s accomplished. She’s an Avenger. Little girls all over the world want to be like her, because she’s a hero. We can be like that too.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel like a hero. Matt’s a hero, and he-”

It was Katya’s turn to roll her eyes. “You know I like Matt, but he’s not exactly squeaky-clean. He’s a vigilante - he breaks the law every night.”

“It’s different. He has a moral code. One I’ve violated again and again. If he ever found out the truth about me, he’d hate me.”

Katya studied her for a few moments, a frown marring her face. “Calina, what is the ‘truth’ about you?”

Calina swallowed harshly. When she finally answered, her voice was small and shaky. “That I’m not a good person.”

Katya reared back. “That’s ridiculous! You were brainwashed and under mind control-”

“I’m not talking about that! Since leaving the Red Room, I’ve abandoned my sisters, I’ve lied to everyone I’ve met, I’ve killed people, and I- I cheated on my boyfriend!”

“You didn’t cheat!”

“What would you call it?”

“I call it necessary! We’re fighting a war here, Calina. And wars are messy, and they involve sacrifice and difficult decisions. Killing the men who came after you, lying to protect your identity and going undercover to steal from Ranieri were difficult decisions, but necessary.”

“But-”

“I’m not finished!”

Calina snapped her mouth closed. She’d never seen Katya like this - so agitated and…loud. She’d always been one of the quieter, more rational Widows.

“As to your other ‘sin’,” Katya continued. “You did not abandon us. You came to save me in Korea - you risked your life to save me. That’s not abandonment. And the other widows told me what you were like after you were freed - they could all see you were struggling. Moving to New York was another necessary decision. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a good person. You were never cut out for this kind of life. Even as kids we realised that you were too sweet and sensitive. And the Red Room persisted in trying to beat that out of you, but they never could. Despite what you’ve been through and what you were forced to do, you’re still that same sweet, sensitive, good person. It’s why you’re feeling all of this so much more than the rest of us. And while we all appreciate your help with taking down Volkov, if you want to leave again, not one person would blame you.”

She bumped her shoulder against Calina’s. “We love you, Calina. You are worthy of love. You just need to convince yourself of that.”

————–

So do we think Katya got through to Calina? Does she believe now that she's worthy of Matt?

Read chapter 4 to find out...

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @chezagnes​ @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan​ @freckledbabyyy ​​

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fandom #matt murdock x oc

[teddysgrahms]

my anderperry playlist and song explanations because I am gay

• Those magic changes by sha na na

One of my favorite songs from grease and also about the night and moment of falling in love and the blissful joy of that moment. The song has an element of angst to it but I look past it. like that is so anderperry I’m sorry? me when I fell in love to those magic changes?

• I melt with you by modern English

this song is about having s3x during a nuclear apocalypse but for my intents and purposes it’s about being with your lover at the end of the world and melting together metaphorically (and physically!) I just think they would die for each other idk

• (Feels like) heaven by fiction factory

the vibes are so excellent in this song + spending time with your lover is heaven in and of itself. they just. really like being together.

• la vie en rose by louis armstrong

this song makes me um explode I imagine them dancing poorly to this in their living room and stepping on each other’s feet and giggling and stumbling over one another and they are the most precious things ever?

• thirteen by big star

this song gives off the vibe of school age crushes and young romance and first love nerves and that’s just so them. it’s literally them your honor

• electric blue by icehouse

i think of this song as neil’s initial feelings for todd, lord of nerves and uncertainty and jitters because wow this boy is cute

• futile devices

a long-lasting love that’s become so natural it’s hard to put into words. I associate this one strongly with todd and how he handles his feelings about neil. sometimes words are not enough, and that is okay

• good old-fashioned lover boy by Queen

Neil is THE good old-fashioned loverboy and I will not hear otherwise. he’d be such a little gentleman and plan cute dates and do everything in his power to make things amazing and even when things aren’t great his effort is duly noted and appreciated

• put your head on my shoulder by Paul anka

I don’t think I need to explain myself. they enjoy a good cuddle. they’re in love. what more must i say

• dream a little dream of me by Doris day

hail Queen Doris Day this song is so adorable just the vibes alone are so anderperry core. like dream of me when you sleep tonight. we could stay up all night but you will see me in your dreams anyhow I love you <3

• i can dream, can’t i? by the andrews sisters

this one is a bit sad because the speaker is convinced they have no chance with their romantic interest. this is very todd core to me. he’d think he has no shot with neil but he can always dream (we are dreaming of tomorrow but tomorrow isn’t coming?)

• my romance by doris day

very neil coded. he doesn’t need anything special he just needs Todd and that’s good enough for him.

• time after time by iron & wine

beautiful cover by an all-time classic. they will always be there for each other, to find one another when they’re lost and catch the other when they fall

• old black train by the blasting company

the vibes are delectable. It feels like running away from home and searching for something unknown, a sort of yearning for a better life than the one you have. I imagine them running away together and being frightful and uncertain yet assured knowing they have each other. (but that lingering sense of “You can’t go back” is ever present and it’s nearly dreadful!)

• dear wormwood by the oh hellos

so. um. if u know me u know I’m a neil kinnie and uh. girlies this song is so him it actually makes me sick. I’ve put some songs in this playlist that are more specific to either Neil or todd individually and this is one of them. the self-discovery. the growth to demand better for yourself and refuse to be treated as less than by a parental figure. so fucking delicious. ugh.

• you’re the one by the vogues

adorable vibes and an overall cute song about loving your partner wholeheartedly. upbeat and catchy. I can imagine them dancing to this one also but in a more upbeat way

• thursday by asobi seksu

ngl this song changed me as a person I think ummm this just gives me todd vibes? something about losing your way, feeling lost and searching for anything to latch onto, holding on to the people closest to you out of fear they may leave at any moment….

• amoeba by clairo

the second todd song. are you a man or an amoeba? damn what if he felt more like an amoeba, like he just goes with how things are and never speaks or acts to how he feels and wants to do things? what if he was barely living?

• the book of love by the magnetic fields

This song makes me INSANE it’s so CUTE they are just so in love and they love each other and hearing the other read or sing or do anything asgghhhurufuh

• satellite by guster

they see each other almost like beacons or lifelines to look to, constants that are safe and reassuring. they are each other’s home.

• im a fool to want you by Frank Sinatra

again that idea of “I have no chance I’m stupid for liking you” but still being unable to change how you feel and just having to live with this heartbreak that has yet to occur

• it only takes a moment from hello, dolly!

Fun fact: this song got me through costume making. this song is in wall-e and aside from being one of the most beautiful songs ever in existence it is SO….I can’t even begin to describe. something about being loved enough for a whole lifetime in only a brief moment….do you think that even though the time neil and todd had together was short it was some of if not the best time of their lives?

• dancing in the moonlight by king harvest

another dancing song! I can see all the poets dancing to this truthfully. very cute song and I just adore the vibes and rhythm

• hopelessly devoted to you by olivia newton-john

this one is a bit dramatic for them but I can see Neil performing this with theatrical effort and intense dramatics

• love me as though there were no tomorrow by nat king cole

euggahhhhhhhhh love me like this is the last chance we’ll ever have……

• earth angel by the penguins

i think they both see each other as like blessings or miracles because their meeting improved both of their lives immensely and may quite possibly have been the best thing to happen to either of them

• you, my love by frank sinatra

i think this one aligns with how Todd feels about neil and how grateful he is to have him in his life. idk man they’re in love

• love letters by nat king cole

can’t remember how this one goes but I know the vibes are good and very them

• when I fall in love by Doris day

This Song is so gorgeous and ggrhehehhhaa I’m gonna break something it’s just so???? they????

• you send me by sam cooke

they both get flustered by how loving the other is and they’re just so damn adorable

• in the still of the night by the five satins

they . they’re in love.

okay that’s all thank youuuu

#dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #dps #dead poets headcanons #can you tell i got tired towards the end 😜

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

Sorry I gotta go outside and look at the moon. Yeah it’s for Neil Armstrong. Yeah it’s gonna be a minute.

#the whiscash administration

[survive-object-poll-island]

I’m doing to much research on this

!!warning!!

Long ask ahead!

(Also quick note to the creator, I’m genuinely sorry I’m digging deeper into this then you ever thought someone would. I’m a highschool student and don’t have much to do this summer and I was really interested in this. You’re story is amazing, and I hope you’re doing well!)

I did more research and I found the timeframe of when parking meters came to Cuba, I couldn’t find Dominican Republic. 1950s. Latest year was 1962, making you closer to 60-70.

If you can remember (at all), do you not know about any of these events?

Korean War (Cold War between communist and non communist Korea) - 1950-1953

First hydrogen bomb is detonated (eniwetok) - 1952

Racial segregation is declared unconstitutional - 1954

First American satellite - 1958

Alaska becoming a US state -1959

‘Bay of pigs’ Cuban invasion fails (basically a US regime with Cuban exiles to overthrow the communist gov there) - 1961

US Naval blockade of Cuba due to missile storage - 1962

That’s events from the general timeline of existence (probably), here’s some after that range in case

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin land on the moon - 1969

26th amendment - 1971

(If any of this is the wrong info I’m genuinely sorry, I went off of a timeline and hoped it was right.)

Even then, parking meters boomed in the 1980s, so you could’ve been made then. However, due to the Nukes. I’m assuming you were made earlier due to war-time efforts, however this can’t be right due to ww2 happening between 1939 - 1945.

ASSUMING you were made in 1950-1962, you would’ve been made during the Cuban revolution. Not many minerals would’ve been available due to more important things at the time (not that you aren’t important we <3 you hosty!!!!). This means you are more likely from the Dominican Republic, as no major events happened there until the US broke off with them in 1960, meaning you were more likely made in the 50s.

Tl;dr: Cuba gained parking meters in the 1950s to early 60s. Many events happened in that time, if you could tell us which events you do and don’t remember (if you can) that would be great. You were probably made post ww2, maybe by Cuba but more likely by the Dominican Republic as they would’ve had more materials at Cuba at that time and the general biggest event that happened to them in 1950s to early 60s was US breaking off.

You were probably made in the 50s, making you at least 73.

If any info is wrong please let me know.

The horrors await (doing all this in 30 minutes) but I remain silly (I’m gonna go take a bath).

These are a lot of INCREDIBLE fast facts from a dearly beloved anti-science cohost!!

I have POOR MEMORY on account of EXISTING FOR A VERY LONG TIME and having RADIATION, but I think that I might be able to help.

The two things I know for sure is that I was PROBABLY stationed in the US. I ate US currency, after all!

Additionally, I remember WWII.

I hope this helps!!!!!!!

#ooc: you are the best :) #ooc: i one hundred percent anticipated someone digging this deep into this yes #ooc: thank you for playing :))) #paranormal-pal #anti science cohost

[arthur-character-showdown]

Round 3 Bracket and Round 2 Results Breakdown!

After a brief hiatus (sorry!), I come with the results breakdown!

See you soon for round 3!

Side 1:

D.W. Read 79.7% / Mary Moo Cow 20.3%

Pal 61.4% / Marina Datillo 38.6%

Buster Baxter 77.6% / Mrs. MacGrady 22.4%

The Brain 48% / Dad 52%

Nadine 62.9% / Ms. Turner 37.1%

Fern Walters 70.2% / Kate Read 29.8%

Sue Ellen Armstrong 91.9% / Mr. Haney 8.1%

Muffy Crosswire 43.6% / Grandma Thora 56.4%

Side 2:

Mr. Ratburn 82.3% / Persimmony Glitchet 17.7%

Molly MacDonald 82% / Ladonna Compson 18%

Arthur Read 82.1% / Rubella Deegan 17.9%

Francine Frensky 75.5% / Bailey 24.5%

Binky Barnes 73.3% / Bubby 26.7%

Prunella Deegan 74.5% / Rattles 25.5%

@neil-gaiman 52.6% / Catherine Frensky 47.4%

George Lundgren 60% / Bitzi Baxter 40%

#arthur pbs #pbs kids #tournament #tumblr bracket #poll tournament #tournament poll #poll bracket #bracket #not a poll

[lavenderbexlatte]

shameless ch 2: speechless

stray kids 4.6k words female reader insert Reader x Lee Felix SFW

🖤 warnings: realistic idol!au, questionable power dynamics, idol/fan interactions, unresolved tension, deep/mature themes, the slowest of slow burns, felix is truly whipped and reader is...🖤

Series Masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

🕷 you 🕷

felix lee: i’m running rlly late :c felix lee: can you pls just come to the dorm felix lee: manager wants me to talk to the dior guy myself i will b so late

You stare down at your phone in your hand.

Really, what could it hurt?

It’s been weeks of casual dating, and Felix is a staple in your life to the point that you sometimes forget that his involves things like conference calls with Dior reps. You wouldn’t have thought it possible to forget what kind of reality you’re in, but the power of routine has really set in.

Today, specifically, Felix is supposed to be en route to the river park, for a walk and some convenience-store ramen for dinner. This phone meeting was supposed to be earlier in the day, but obviously something outside of his control has changed. You’re already on the train, though, on your way across town.

It admittedly wouldn’t take much to get on the other metro line, to zip over to his neighborhood instead.

You’re a little too tired to worry, today. You just want to see Felix, have some excessive sodium and brave the autumn cold for a few hours, and then collapse into bed. You can handle having today be the day that you cross this line.

It’s not a big deal. It won’t be a big deal.

So you change course. You get the address from a very relieved Felix, and you head to the dorm, instead. The tiredness and the monotony of travel dulls your anxiety to a low hum, and you figure that it’ll be just fine.

That all changes when Bang Chan opens the door.

You make it to the dorm. Knock. Wait.

The door opens.

And it’s not Felix. It’s Bang Chan.

He blinks at you, sleepy eyes under the heavy hood of his dark sweatshirt. “Oh.”

He’s looking at you like you’re the thing that he least expected to find on his doorstep. He’s looking at you like he’s not sure if he’s imagining you there or not, like he’s trying to come to terms with the idea of your existence. It’s intimidating in its emptiness.

No, not just intimidating. It’s something else entirely. Your jaw is clenched, your knees locked. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that you’d entered fight, flight, or freeze mode and defaulted to freeze in an instant. You struggle against the urge to look down at your feet, instead of up at his face.

For one heart-stopping instant, you actually wonder if you’re at the wrong house, until your wits come back to you and you remember that, no, this is Felix’s idol group member. His idol group leader. You swallow. It’s not like you can leave. Felix is expecting you.

“Um, is…Felix…?” you ask weakly.

Bang Chan blinks at you again. There’s a silence that stretches far longer than you would like, and then he gives himself a little shake and gives you a little nod.

“Yeah, Felix, yes. He’s here,” he tells you, “You can just – d’you wanna wait inside?”

You try to dismiss it, “Oh, I can just-”

“No, no, come in,” Chan insists.

“Really, I’m okay-”

“Sorry, you kind of startled me,” he apologizes, cutting you off with a sheepish dimpled grin that makes a dull panic rise behind your eyes, because oh my god this is real, isn’t it?

“Me?” you answer, eloquent as ever.

“I just didn’t – yeah. Come in, sit down. Felix is on the phone,” Chan tells you, taking a step deeper into the apartment and beckoning you after him.

You follow him inside.

It’s like stepping into another dimension, for how significant it feels. This is your Neil Armstrong moment, your one giant leap. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe you’re just freaking out over nothing, overreacting to meeting the roommates of a guy you’re dating.

Because that’s what they are. His roommates. Felix’s roommates.

Stray Kids Felix.

Chan turns around again, pushing a hand back through his messy hair as he regards you carefully. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

You absolutely don’t flinch when Bang Chan says your name. “Yeah.”

“I’ve heard about you,” he says. “Nice to put a face to the name.”

“Felix talks about me?” you ask, unsure why this surprises you.

It shouldn’t surprise you. He’s been going out with you for nearly a month, now, and these guys are his friends and coworkers and roommates and literally constant companions. But you still struggle to believe it.

“Sure,” Chan nods.

“That’s…huh,” you say, truly stumped.

Chan gives you another one of those gentle half-smiles. “Lemme go see if Lix is done.”

“Okay.”

As Chan disappears into the house, leaving you standing by the entry to their big square living room, you find yourself equally hoping and dreading that another member will show up.

You wonder how you’d react. If seeing another one of them would make you feel the way Chan is making you feel, would make you want to crawl out of your skin and never return, would drop your heart into your heels and bead nervous sweat across your temples.

Because Chan…well. Chan. You’ve always-

“Hey!”

Felix’s face is bright, makeup-free, and exuberantly excited to see you. It’s not something that should make you jump, but you do, startling visibly so that he laughs and puts an affectionate hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he says again, “Sorry, just got off the call. I didn’t scare you, did I?”

He’s beaming. You don’t know what your face is doing, but it’s not that.

“No,” you lie, “I was just thinking.”

“About how messy this place is, I’m sure,” Chan cuts in with a wayward laugh, and oh.

He’s still here, too, isn’t he?

“It’s been worse,” Felix says.

“Doesn’t mean it’s good now,” Chan replies.

Felix lets go of you to go dig a pair of shoes out of an overflowing closet that spills sneakers and boots into the hall, and you don’t move an inch. To your own detriment, because now that he’s out of your line of sight, you’re just staring at Chan.

He doesn’t even give you a second glance, going back to the ridiculous gaming chair that faces a sleek PC setup in the corner by their mismatched dining set. His back is to you, but you find yourself tracing his shoulder line with your eyes in your dull disbelief.

These are idols.

Felix is an idol.

You always knew it. You were overly aware of it, from your first conversation. You’ve been bending yourself around that truth, fitting yourself into it. And now, suddenly, you feel stripped bare by it.

“Ready!” Felix announces, as he finishes off his shoelace with a flourish.

“Yay,” you answer weakly.

“Have fun!” Chan calls over his shoulder.

He still doesn’t look up, and you find a prickle of longing in the back of your mind, wishing that maybe he would. You don’t know why.

That’s a lie.

You know why, and you think about it as Felix leads you into the hall and away. Your body leaves that crowded living room, but your mind lingers, somewhere right behind that gaming chair and the broad shoulders nestled there.

🦋 him 🦋

She’s wearing the hoodie that they bought together all those weeks ago.

It’s a small thing, probably not even that significant to her, but it makes Felix’s heart do a giddy little flip in his chest all the same.

Things are coming up Felix, today. Chan was nice, didn’t even pull any group leader or big brother bullshit. She came over to the dorm, even though she’s obviously been a little nervous about it, taking another step into Felix’s life. And they get to go on a date.

They’re well on the date, actually.

They’ve snagged a table outside the GS25, steaming instant ramen cups in front of each of them and a bottle of juice to pass back and forth. The autumn wind is cold, but it’s comfortable enough.

But she’s worrying her disposable wooden chopsticks between her fingers, and it makes Felix wonder.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Just stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” he presses, with a half-smile.

Rather than answering, she fishes out another bite of ramen and feeds it into her mouth. That’s okay. Felix can wait until she’s ready to share.

“I know it’s something,” he says.

She shrugs.

And then finally, she says, “Chan was really nice.”

“Did you expect him not to be?” Felix asks, amused.

“No, I just…” she shrugs again, “He was so nice.”

“It’s easy to be nice to you.”

She grins, even as she rolls her eyes at the compliment. “Still.”

“You’re right, though, he could have given us more grief,” Felix says thoughtfully. “Figured he would have.”

“Are they all that nice?” she asks.

“The members?”

She nods.

“Of course.”

Felix digs back into his own meal, satisfied that he’s gotten some of the truth out of her, even though her face is still pensive.

It’s a nice face. He likes looking at it.

A gust of wind sends leaves skittering under the table and around their feet, and she burrows farther into the plush of her hoodie. She looks so cute, ruffled and chilled through, and Felix can’t help it.

“I can’t believe…” she’s saying, “I mean really, I can’t-”

Felix cuts her off with a kiss. Their first, he realizes with a thrill, and maybe the first he’s had since he was a teenager. He can’t really remember. His career and the constant threat of losing it for the most minor social infraction has kept him away from all potential kisses for a long time. There’s a lovely haze of excitement settling over his consciousness, and when he pulls away, he swears he’s tingling.

She looks at him in surprise. She pulls her tongue over her bottom lip absently. And then she keeps talking, where she left off.

“I can’t believe Chan really dresses like that.”

---------------

She comes to the dorm two more times that month.

Both times, it’s her asking to come over, rather than spending time out somewhere else. Felix isn’t sure what changed, but he’s more than happy to stay in sweats and order in dinner.

The first time, Felix makes sure that everyone else is out of the house. They don’t need a whole audience of nosy bandmates, watching them watch a movie and making comments to each other like the nuisances they are. Even so, he’s hyperaware of the fact that at least ten other people have access to the dorm and could come back at any moment.

“We could go to my room, if you’re worried it’ll get weird,” Felix offers, “Managers won’t go in there, or anything.”

But she frowns. “You don’t have your own room, though.”

“Nobody’s home, we’ll have full privacy. But yeah, I share with Chan-hyung and ‘Bin-hyung,” Felix says.

Her face freezes.

Immediately, he starts backtracking in his mind, wondering which part of what he said is freaking her out. Oh, God, does she think he’s implying that he wants to have sex tonight? All that emphasis on being alone together? That would be cool, of course, awesome, excellent, but that’s not what he meant-

“We don’t have to,” he says, as soon as he realizes how long the silence has been.

“No, just…let’s stay out here,” she says.

They’re already squished side by side on the living room couch, so it’s easy enough to just stay there.

Felix slings an arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him so that he can smile softly into her hair. “Sounds good to me.”

-----

The second time, they have company.

Felix didn’t even think about the possibility of it, earlier that day, when he invited her over. Why would he? If the dorm is empty for the day, it usually stays that way. Days off mean everyone retreats to their own corners of the world and no one is home before they have to be. But they definitely aren’t alone together this time.

The living room is empty, save for the Switch and its missing joycon that Felix is turning the place upside-down to find. It’s really hard to play multiplayer games with only one controller, after all, and Felix promised her a Smash tournament. But after a thorough search of the room turns up nothing, the next logical place to look is in his room.  

“Hold on, I’ll find it,” Felix promises, as he darts toward his bedroom door.

“I can come help,” she offers.

It’s something of a weird offer, considering the last time she was here, she didn’t even want to set foot in his room. She follows him this time, around the sofa and over to the short hallway that connects the living space to the bedrooms.

Felix dismisses her gently. “Nah, it’ll only be a second-”

But the door opens before Felix can even reach for the knob, and there she is. That girl. Chan’s girl, the Cool Girl. She’s dressed to the nines in slacks and mules and a puff-sleeved blouse, and there’s a hickey on her throat the size of a Cadbury egg.

“Hi, Felix,” she offers, perfectly lovely and polite.

She gives him a warm smile that shines with something that Felix can’t quite parse, and then she’s brushing past him on her way out.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were home,” comes Chan’s voice blithely from inside the bedroom.

“We got home like fifteen minutes ago,” Felix answers.

“We?” Chan echoes.

“Yeah, me and…” Felix blanches.

He turns around, and they’re face to face, wary like cats. Smiling at each other, sure, but the energy is wildly uncomfortable.

“This is so cute,” Cool Girl is saying, with a pluck at her sweater sleeve, “Where did you get it?”

If she answers Cool Girl, Felix doesn’t hear it, but it’s not another ten seconds before Cool Girl has clicked her way out of the room and left a horrible silence in her wake.

“I really didn’t know you were home,” Chan says again, wrenching Felix back into the moment, and this time it’s dripping with apology.

“It’s fine,” Felix says, and that’s true.

“I should have texted ahead, bro, really.”

“Do you ever?” asks Felix wryly.

“Maybe I should start,” Chan grins.  

It’s then that Felix realizes Chan is completely nude save for the pair of briefs he’s obviously just shoved on, and while that’s not unusual in itself, the context makes Felix want to blush all the way down to his toes. He spots his joycon on the floor by his bed, and he gratefully shoves Chan aside and grabs the stupid blue thing.

“Just came for this, anyway,” Felix says, as he retreats.

“Enjoy,” Chan says, and he raises his voice to call out to her before the door slams, “Good to see you!”

Felix isn’t sure if this really qualifies as seeing each other. Or as anything good. But the pleasantry seems to set her more at ease, and Felix leads her back to the living room in a valiant attempt to pretend nothing happened.

-----

They also go to hers a few times. And those times are the most confusing of all.

When they’re truly alone, at her tiny apartment that makes Felix wonder what his life could be if things had gone differently, she’s just herself.

She’s the person he likes so much, flannel shirts and playlists, beat-up sneakers by the door and an unabashed peek of his friends’ faces from her music collection. She shows him movies and stupid YouTube videos and orders him her favorite takeout that his managers would kill him for eating (his skin! his physique!).

When they’re alone, she talks more. She smiles more, a real smile that wrinkles her nose and sets her eyes alight. She goes barefaced like he does, she’ll put on a skincare mask and give him one and they’ll sit there listening to music and letting the dubiously-effective serums sink in.

She’s something that he has chosen, a rarity in his life that has grown so much in the last few years, bigger and wilder and more wonderful but also far, far out of his control. She’s something he picked for himself.

And Felix likes her. So much.

That makes it all the weirder when she starts to change.

He notices it for the first time on a Saturday morning, when she comes to the dorm to make cookies with him. Maybe she had been changing for a while, in her day-to-day when they’re not together, but Felix is still bowled over when he sees her.

She’s right on time. She’s beaming at him. And her clothes-

That’s not usually what Felix focuses on, because why would he? But it’s impossible to ignore today. He opens the apartment door, and there she is, looking nothing like herself.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

He immediately curses himself silently; that wasn’t supposed to come out.

She wilts just the slightest bit at his words, and her discomfort makes the outfit look even more out of place.

It’s a look that Felix has definitely seen before, though he couldn’t put a finger on exactly where. A loose, airy blouse over tailored slim-fit pants, practical Mary Jane walkers. Neutral pastel colors that complement each other well, a pale blue and a slate grey.

Pretty, of course. The pieces fit well. But they’re not…right. They’re not right.

“You don’t like it?” she asks.

“No, no,” Felix says quickly, “I’ve just never seen this outfit before.”

“It’s new,” she says.

“I can tell.”

The distinctive smell of new clothes is strong, that perfume that hangs over department stores and boutiques. She must have just bought everything, head to toe. The thing that Felix cannot figure out is why.

"You look great," Felix assures her.

"Thanks."

She looks sheepish, still, though the alarm at Felix's reaction has faded.

"But we're gonna be baking, you know," he says.

She shrugs, "I can be careful."

"I can give you something to put on. I don't think we have aprons but there's gotta be something."

Felix has all the baking things ready. Ingredients ready on the counter, bowls and spoons and whisks on the kitchen table.

He put most of them out last night, actually, too excited at the prospect of doing something so cute and domestic with someone like her. The last person who really sat and baked with him for the process of it was Chan, and that was for a vlog so it wasn't the same at all. It wouldn't have been the same even without the camera, Felix tells himself. So this is an exciting first.

As she toes off those Mary Janes, so new that the treads on the bottom are barely dirty, Felix rummages through the cabinets to see if they have any spare aprons. He thinks the managers took the ones they'd had for washing, and he can't recall if they ever came back.

Doesn't seem like they did.

He glances at her, still by the door, adjusting the tuck of her lovely blouse, and he knows that this won't do.

A quick trip into his room, a glance around the mess, and he has the solution.

"Here."

She looks down at the bundle of fabric nonplussed.

"It's an old t-shirt," Felix explains, as he turns back to the ingredients, eager to begin, "I don't have an apron for you so just, like. Wear that to keep your clothes clean."

She laughs. "Thanks."

Flour, sugar, vanilla extract, salt, eggs and butter from the fridge. Everything seems in order, but as Felix fixes his gaze on her again, obviously that sentiment isn't completely true.

She's just holding up the t-shirt, looking at it as if it's some kind of giant bug or a garbage bag or something. It's clean, Felix tugged it out of one of the dresser drawers stuffed full of old training clothes and smelled it himself, but she's still looking at it with no small amount of trepidation. She's certain not putting it on.

"What's up?"

"This..." she shakes the shirt gently, "This isn't yours."

Felix peers at it more closely, and sees that the sleeves are gone, leaving a ragged hem that suggest they were cropped off at home with a pair of scissors. "Huh. Nah, must be hyung's."

Which hyung, he's not sure, since both guys who share Felix's room are known for homemade muscle tees and their absolute refusal to wear real clothes. But the confirmation does not seem to make her feel any better.

"You want me to wear this?" she asks.

"Unless you wanna get eggs and flour on your new clothes," Felix says, perplexed.

He's not quite sure why she's hesitating. If it's the borrowing-clothes thing, Felix takes their stuff all the time, so that's not an issue. He can wash it after, if it gets dirty. He says as much, and she still just looks at the wrinkled black fabric.

It's one of their old album release shirts, Felix notices. Miroh, he thinks. Damn, that's been kicking around for a while, then.

He almost comments on it, too, but as if she's breaking out of her little trance, she slips the shirt on over her nice clothes, and the moment is over.

She approaches the table where Felix stands, takes in the assortment of ingredients, and she smiles. "Let's do this."

-----

The second batch of cookies, these ones full of M&M's and pretzel pieces at her ingenious suggestion, have just gone into the oven when the members get home.

Not all of them, luckily. Felix doesn't know what he would do if Jisung and Seungmin and Jeongin were around to give him shit about having a girl over on one of their precious days off. They're his friends, but damn if they're not the absolute worst.

It's just Minho and Chan.

"Guys are home," Felix says.

She's watching the cookies through the tiny glass door of the tabletop convection oven, and she simply replies, "They can't have any."

Minho comes in first, levels her with a smile that doesn't quite reach his tired eyes, and goes right to the fridge to retrieve a Monster and a snack. He cracks the can, and as he's looking at her, his gaze slides down to the borrowed t-shirt as she absentmindedly wipes the flour off her hands along the hem of the shirt.

Felix throws him a warning glare, but Minho just looks back toward the foyer and says, casual as anything, "Hey, hyung? Isn't that yours?"

The calm is well and truly shattered then, and she turns around to look at Minho in alarm.

"Felix lent me-"

But Chan makes his way into the kitchen, too, and when he sees the t-shirt, he stops. His expression is unreadable, which is saying a lot since Felix knows him immeasurably well and Chan is also very easy to read regardless. Is he upset about the stains of flour and water? Is it that some girl he's only met a few times is wearing his clothes without his permission? None of those seem like things that would particularly upset Chan, though, so Felix is left staring at his hyung and guessing.

"Yeah, it is," Chan says, finally.

"It was in the drawer, she needed something to borrow," Felix says, hoping to head off any kind of confrontation before it begins.

"Nah, no worries," says Chan, and he looks like he means it.

"You sure?"

"'Course I'm sure," he grins.

Minho, for his part, is watching with far too much interest, sipping from his energy drink and leaning against the middle fridge. He's never really stuck around when she was over before, and his new interest makes Felix more than a little curious.

"Those look good," Chan says, eyeing the cookies lined up on their baking tray, cooling on the kitchen table.

"You wanna try?" she asks him.

Felix snorts. "You just said they couldn't have any."

She looks at him, a little exasperated. "I was kidding."

"Can I?" Chan asks.

At her eager nod, Chan peels one of the half-cooled chocolate chip cookies up and jams the entire thing into his mouth. It's like a weird game of telephone, as she watches Chan, Minho watches her, and Felix watches Minho.

"So good," Chan confirms, muffled by his full mouth.

She fidgets, and Minho peers at her even harder.

"That's all Felix," she says, "He's the master chef. I haven't baked in so long."

"But you helped," Chan grins.

It's her turn to make a face that Felix can't quite parse, but before anything can cross the line from slightly weird to actually firmly weird, Minho slings an arm around Chan's shoulders and begins leading him out of the room.

"Let the lovebirds make their shit," Minho instructs.

"Yeah, yeah," Chan twists in Minho's grip to throw a wave and an even bigger smile at her and Felix. "Have fun!"

Her face falls ever so slightly once Chan and Minho are gone, retreated to their rooms after doing whatever it is they'd gone out to do together. The calm content that had settled over the kitchen as they shaped the cookies, filled the trays, waited for the finished desserts, isn't quite the same as it was.

And as much as Felix doesn't want to think that his friends could be the reason for that, the logic stands: she was fine before seeing them, and now it's weird.

It's weird, right?

Why is it weird?

---------------

Felix never really gets any answers about that cookie-making date turning odd at the end, but to be fair, he doesn't ask her any questions about it.

He's always been the type to pick his battles. It's a necessary skill in a career like his, to know when to push the issue and when to let go, and this seems like as good a time as any to just take things at face value and move on. It's still a little jarring for her, a fan of the group, to see the members when she's not thinking about it. Felix has to just accept that.

It would be easier to accept if things didn't keep happening.

Felix doesn't get to see her for a few weeks after that day. It's all because of scheduling conflicts on his end, as usual. His job picks up and drops at the most random times, and after a few weeks of free and clear weekends, he's got back-to-back commitments again.

But as soon as he has time, they plan for one of their standard movie night in at her place.

Maybe it'll be better if they're back on her terms, in her space, where things usually make sense.

She looks like herself when she opens the door that night, dressed in casual shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, unready and soft and normal. It lets Felix relax, releases any worry that she was making aesthetic changes for him, for whatever reason.

She's normal, but her apartment is a little different.

The posters are gone.

Or, mostly gone.

All the old ones, pictures of assorted groups that she's talked to him about over the weeks and months, have disappeared. Even her albums have moved, relegated to a high shelf out of view. Felix has to really look to find them, hidden high above.

There is, however, one new poster, front and center, drawing the eye more than anything else in the room.

Felix's own eyes gaze down at him, face glitter-caked and Photoshopped to a smooth approximation of its usual shape, the members posed around his tiny austere image looking much the same.

It's a poster from their latest album. And somehow, their group name that usually fits like his own feels something like a threat, an exposition, emblazoned across the bottom corner of the print. Stray Kids.

Stray Kids' Felix.

Is that how she wants to see him?

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids felix #stray kids felix fanfic #lee felix #lee felix fanfic #kpop fanfic #lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #bang chan fanfic #stray kids bang chan #if you see this change to the tags no you don't

[stormblessed95]

Alpha bf????? What are people even talking these days?

Jikook are real people, please anons stop such weird narratives. Cringe.

My favorite Alpha Boyfriends post because you gave me the excuse!

Charles Cornick - Alpha & Omega by Patricia Briggs

"Anna gave Charles a shy kiss on the cheek and strolled out of the room without a backward glance. Until she reached the doorway, and then, in full view of the curious who'd had the courage or discourtesy to linger in the auditorium after he'd dismissed them, she kissed her palm and blew it to him.

And despite... or because of their audience, he caught it in one hand, and pulled the hand to his heart. Her smile dropped away, and the expression in her eyes would feed him for a week. And the expressions on the faces of the wolves who knew Charles, or knew his reputation, would make him laugh as soon as no one was watching."

Adam Hauptman - Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs

"It's only fair to warn you that you sealed your fate tonight. When you knew you were in trouble, you came to me. That makes twice, Mercy, and twice is almost as good as a declaration. You are mine now.... Ben says you might run. If you do, I will find you and bring you back. Every time you run, Mercy. I won't force you, but. .. No more excuses, Mercy. You are mine, and I am keeping you."

Clayton Danvers - Bitten by Kelley Armstrong

What’s this?” Nick said. “Bedtime?”

No one answered him. I kept my eyes closed.

“You look positively content, Clayton,” Nick continued, thumping down on the floor. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Elena is cuddled up with you, would it?”

“It’s cold in here,” I murmured.

“Doesn’t feel cold.”

“It’s cold,” Clay growled.

“I could start a fire.”

“I could start one, too,” Clay said. “With your clothes. Before you get them off.

Ox and Joe - Wolfsong by TJ Klune

"It’s not destiny, Ox. You’re not bound by this. Not yet. There’s a choice. There is always a choice. My wolf chose you. I chose you. And if you don’t choose me, then that’s your choice and I will walk out of here knowing you got to choose your own path. But I swear to god, if you choose me, I will make sure that you know the weight of your worth every day for the rest of our lives because that’s what this is. I am going to be a fucking Alpha one day, and there is no one I’d rather have by my side than you. It’s you, Ox. For me, it’s always been you.”

Trent Kalamack - The Hollows series by Kim Harrison

"The want for that kiss had shocked him more than the interruption, and he fell back into the chair, cool and nonchalant as Quen came in with his questions and demands. He wasn't sure if he believed he'd really helped, but one thing was very clear. He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for. He should walk away. Right now. But as she was ushered out the door under David's arm, all he wanted to do was follow her. What the hell was he doing, falling in love with her"

Andrew Minyard - All For The Game by Nora Sakavic

"Andrew had nearly killed four men for assaulting Nicky and would have broken Allison's neck for hitting Aaron, but when it came to crimes against his own person Andrew couldn't care less. He held his life in less regard than he did anything else. Neil hated that with a ferocity that was nauseating."

Scarlet & Wolf - Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

"Wolf, are you asking me to be ... your alpha female?"

He hesitated.

Scarlet couldn't help it - she burst into laughter. "Oh - I'm sorry. That was mean. I know I shouldn't tease you about this."

Still grinning, she made to retract her hand, but he was suddenly gripping it, refusing to relinquish the touch. "You just look so scared, like I'm going to disappear any minute. We're stuck on a spaceship, Wolf. I'm not going anywhere."

His lips twitched, his nervousness beginning to ease away, though his hand stayed tense over hers.

"Alpha female," he murmured. "I sort of like that."

Beaming, Scarlet gave a mild shrug. "It could grow on me."

Percy Jackson - PJO series by Rick Riordan

"Very slowly, using only two fingers, Annabeth drew her dagger. Instead of dropping it, she tossed it as far as she could into the water.

Octavian made a squeaking sound. “What was that for? I didn’t say toss it! That could’ve been evidence. Or spoils of war!”

Annabeth tried for a dumb-blonde smile, like: Oh, silly me. Nobody who knew her would have been fooled. But Octavian seemed to buy it. He huffed in exasperation.

“You other two…” He pointed his blade at Hazel and Piper. “Put your weapons on the dock. No funny bus—”

All around the Romans, Charleston Harbor erupted like a Las Vegas fountain putting on a show. When the wall of seawater subsided, the three Romans were in the bay, spluttering and frantically trying to stay afloat in their armor. Percy stood on the dock, holding Annabeth’s dagger.

“You dropped this,” he said, totally poker-faced"

It can be fun when it's fictional 😍🥰 Jimin and Jungkook aren't actually fictional though. They DID stare in 2 fictional stories though. HYYH BU and 7 fates: Chakho. And yes, all these recs above (except the last 2) have some toxic energy to them. Lol

#alpha book boyfriend energy #half this list is actual werewolves books #the other half is just that alpha protective energy we all love so much

[oh-shinx]

Hold on, if you're from an alternate universe, I might be able to test my hypothesis if you don't mind.

Could you tell me, if you remember, who was first on the moon?

That Unovan, Neil Armstrong, I think???? I do not pay attention to space stuff that much, sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#muse mixup madness

[deadpoets2000sbandau]

Top 5 covers of somebody else's songs that this band has done, or would like to arrange and put together some day?

Or does anybody do fandom filk (like fanfiction or fan art, except it's fan-made songs inspired by so-and-so source material)?

Sorry I can't rly tell what you mean by that second part, but here's the guys' answers for the covers!

Knox: we've covered a few songs, yeah. I think my favorite of our covers is Green Day's Whatsername!Todd sang for that one, which is rare 'cause he doesn't like to sing a whole lot. But he does a pretty good Billie Joe Armstrong!

Todd: uhghghg [embarrassed covering of face] thank you Knox, I appreciate it...

Knox: :]

Charlie: well, I really like our Little Things cover. Good Charlotte has some nice coverable songs, and this one was especially fun to record with all the little background parts! Some day I'd love to cover Bad Reputation, if we get a chance to work with Ginny Danburry. She has a great voice!

Todd: Charlie and I would love to cover anything that involves screaming, probably from the Used or Linkin Park or some other "Screamo" band. Charlie can scream really well, it's pretty impressive.

Charlie: hey, so can you! Todd here also has a great scream when we do karaoke. If we ever cover something like that, we'd do it together ;D

Neil: Even though I never listened to the band much, I know the guys love our Monsters cover, by Matchbook Romance. It was a fun song for me to learn to sing!

Todd: yeah. I love that song, and Neil did great. I'm glad he agreed to do it [small smile]

Neil: of course man :)

Meeks: anything with a challenging bass is fun for me to learn and play. I'd like to do a Red Hot Chili Peppers song at some point, Flea is a genius bassist. Covering Are You Gonna Be My Girl was pretty fun for bass!

Pitts: I don't have any songs I'm terribly anxious for us to do, because most of the songs I like are, like, over 30 minutes long. [Laughs] I'm joking. However, if I had to choose one, I'd like to do Welcome Home.

Cameron: [shrugs] eh. I'm just hear to make sure they sound good. I don't think they'd do any of my favorite songs justice anyway [laughs]

Charlie: hey!!

Neil: Thank you for the ask!

#asks #band hcs #dps band au #dps #dead poets society #knox overstreet #todd anderson #charlie dalton #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron

[someonewhogotanaccount]

did you know goats have accents? Goats can develop their own unique accents accent from their surroundings. you can read more here

did you know lobsters have their bladders in their heads? “A lobster’s bladder is in its head! When males fight, they …you know… each other in the face with their pee” read more here

Around 3% of the ice on the Antarctic glaciers is penguin pee read here

did you know Neil Armstrong Left Four Bags of Poop on the Moon in 1969? “When he landed on the moon in the summer of 1969, he left four bags of poop on the moon. Other astronauts who have successfully landed on the moon have also lightened their load for their return trip home. These astronauts have left poopoo on the moon” website is here (sorry i could only find a youtube video about it) 

Actually, yes. I told my mom the goat had a french accent back then in the petting zoo but she wouldn’t believe me.

No, but it‘s… interesting. Reminds me on this one fact I once heard in a video. Did you know that the male frogfish attaches to the female in order to mate, the blood vessels then connect and… the male then slowly dissolves alive? Evolution. So incredibly beautiful.

No, and I wish I would’ve known this earlier, it would‘ve been a great funfact for my presentation about the Arctic and the Antarctic (though my classmates probably would‘ve just stared at me if I said that). Did you know that Arctic means “bear” and Antarctic means “no bear/opposite the bear” ? People where always so creative when it comes to names, huh?

No, but I know that there are around 12 million dollars lying on the moon. After the photos were taken, the astonauts only took the film magazines, but not the cameras themselves. All except one, which was then sold for around 910,400 dollars, although it was not even certain whether it was really on the moon. Hmmm, I wonder how much the astronauts' poop is worth…

#ask #thanks for the ask #interesting facts #hehe #i’m a little late #sorry for that #but tumblr deleted it before