#• bath bomb strategy

[sleepnoises]

remaining gift concerns

• manifest intangible experience gift into wrappable flesh [frame probably]

• onion

• continue to hope re: timely arrival of thriftbooks order. backup: recycle books

[dreamersparacosm]

Girl we need a smut blurb for them , im talking wild sex . I’ll take anything I know they’re both freaked out

well, well, well. you put two overachievers in a bed and what’s going to happen? magic, that’s what. or maybe he’ll just use your vibrator as part of your scheduled stress relief. whatever.

the price of desire — epilogue blurb 3!

prompt ; in which stress relief takes on a whole new definition.

warnings ; sex toy usage, fingering, jungkook cums in his pants

There are worse problems to have, you tell yourself.

Ever since you and Jungkook officially started dating, things have gotten a little… out of hand (and by “out of hand,” you mean fucking each other senseless across multiple continents.)

Obviously it started in New York and Seoul. Then it was Paris. You two dabbled in exhibitionism during a trip to Bali. Now it’s whatever remote, paparazzi-proof destinations your travel agent nervously books for you at 2 in the morning.

Hotels, apartments, rental cars, bathrooms you’re pretty sure were not designed to withstand the kind of behavior you’re inflicting on them. At this point, it’s becoming a global crisis. International security agencies may want to get involved.

It’s getting so frequent, so mind-numbingly good, that you’re starting to worry about yourself a little. Like, is it normal to see god every weekday?

Unclear.

But it is nice, really nice, to relieve that stress that weighs on you after a workday. (And god knows you have plenty of that to go around.)

Jungkook is, if nothing else, very committed to the cause. He takes care of you painfully well, as if it’s his full-time job and the only acceptable performance review is your legs shaking too hard to stand.

Case in point: you’re currently spread out across your bed in New York, lips swollen from a makeout, hair damp from the bath he ran for you, and he’s kneeling between your legs, big palms dragging slow strokes up and down your thighs.

It's a perfect Wednesday night, all safe and soft and steady until he drops his suggestion into the quiet.

“Let me use the vibrator on you, baby.”

Your brain, already half-melted from the hour-long slow burn he’s been subjecting you to, scrambles for purchase.

You are not equipped for this on a Wednesday night. Especially not after a 14 hour workday, 2 back-to-back global strategy calls, and a last minute crisis involving a Calvin Klein store opening in Shanghai.

You open your mouth to respond, yet nothing makes its way out.

Jungkook smiles at you with amusement and reaches over to the nightstand like it’s the most casual thing in the world. As if he didn’t casually drop a bomb into the atmosphere of your previously scheduled stress-relief session.

With bulging eyes, you observe as he pulls open the drawer, rummages around for a second, and then holds up your light purple vibrator in his hands.

The device is small and sleek, manages to look mockingly innocent resting in his palm.

You stare at it, then at him, mouth working like a fish suddenly introduced to the concept of air.

"I—" You stutter eloquently.

He responds with that signature grin, the one that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face and climb him like a tree. "Come on, baby," he coaxes, "You said you were stressed. Think of this as... advanced relaxation techniques."

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. "This wasn't exactly what I meant by 'stress relief.'"

"What's the worst that could happen?" he asks innocently, setting the vibrator down beside you before leaning close to press a kiss against your inner knee. "You enjoy yourself too much?"

"The audacity," You roll your eyes, trying and failing to suppress the shiver his touch sends up your spine.

"It’s like.. a scientific experiment," he continues, trailing featherlight kisses up your thigh. "Testing the effects of a vibrator on stress."

"Did you just turn my vibrator into a science fair project?"

His laugh rumbles against your skin. "I'm innovative like that. Always thinking about my subject’s satisfaction."

"You’re not selling it," You sigh but there's no heat behind it.

"I'm persistent," he corrects, looking up at you with darkened eyes. "And also extremely dedicated to your wellbeing. Just say yes."

You can’t look at him. With his mess of black hair falling over his forehead, with his eyes displaying a glint of mischief and the stupid Calvin Klein white t-shirt that drives you crazy. He’s so fucking hot, and it brings you to the brink of temporary insanity. That’s how you got in this mess in the first place.

What you need to be doing is saying no. Set some kind of a boundary. Be a strong, independent woman who does not immediately fold at the suggestion of midweek sex toy experimentation.

You do none of those things. Rather, you sigh and flop back against the pillows, one arm flung dramatically over your eyes.

“Fine,” you mutter like he’s inconveniencing you. “Whatever. Just don’t break my toy.”

You hear him laugh, a rich velvety rumble that vibrates through you while the mattress dips beneath his weight as he repositions himself closer to your core.

Before you even take your next breath, he’s kissing up your thighs, hands stroking the backs of your knees, your calves, your hips.

The vibrator hums to life; it’s soft at first, a low sound and your stomach flips violently.

Curiosity compels you to emerge from behind your self-imposed blindfold just in time to witness his gaze fixed upon you. He is a hungry man, you’ll give him that much.

Which leads you to your next thought: you’re not even sure why you bothered putting on underwear after the bath. A small, defeated part of you wants to blame some lingering sense of dignity, some naive attempt at not being completely easy just because your boyfriend washed your hair like a Disney prince and kissed your shoulder after.

Whatever weak attempt at decency you made is long gone the second Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts dragging them down. Thumbs brushing over the dip of your hips like he’s memorizing every line, every secret part of you he already owns.

The cotton peels away from your thighs, and the cool air hits your core, makes you shiver. He works them down over your knees, then your ankles, tossing them somewhere behind him without a second thought.

You’re already squirming a little, hips shifting against the mattress, thighs clenching reflexively, but he just chuckles under his breath before reaching for the hem of your oversized T-shirt. (Technically his T-shirt. Technically yours now. He stopped fighting that battle months ago.)

Slowly, he pushes it up, bunching it around your waist, exposing the soft skin of your belly, the slick glistening between your legs that you’re trying very hard not to feel embarrassed about.

A single finger gets dragged between your folds, dipping into the mess he’s barely even touched you to create, and you can’t help the broken little gasp that escapes your mouth. “Oh—“

Jungkook lifts his hand and holds it up between you. Your slick clings to his finger. Shining in the soft light your lamp provides.

The bastard. How dare he provide proof of your demise.

He raises a brow smugly. “Already this wet, baby?” He teases.

You glare at him, or at least try, but it’s hard to summon the proper outrage when your body is practically vibrating with need.

“Shut the fuck up,” You grumble.

He laughs and settles himself back between your thighs. The toy hums softly beside you, still on the lowest setting and when he picks it up again, your stomach nearly exits your body.

He strokes the inside of your thigh with his free hand, “Ready?” He asks. Jungkook’s always been sure to consent; you do know he’s genuinely asking for permission.

You nod, frantic, willing to sell your soul if he would just please, please touch you already.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

For the love of everything holy.

You jolt forward violently the second the vibrator touches your clit. Even on the lowest setting it’s too much, white-hot pleasure snapping up your spine and exploding behind your eyes.

“Fuck—” You gasp, whole body twitching, hands scrambling for something to hold onto.

A string of curse words falls out of your mouth before you can stop them, completely and deliriously out of your control.

Jungkook smiles, presses his palm flat against your thigh to pin you down. “You’re so sensitive tonight,” He notes, somewhat amused.

You might cry. God damn him for being so perfect to you that he’s holding a vibrator to you and not making comments about how “he could do it better.”

You settle for grabbing a fistful of the bedsheets and moaning helplessly when he adjusts the angle slightly, nudging the vibrator a little higher until your hips are jerking against the mattress.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing slow circles into your thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Alright, you’re not afraid to admit — maybe you didn’t care much for his definition of stress relief before.

But now? Now you need it more than anything.

You’re a mess; panting, moaning, hips twitching up and it’s still on the lowest setting.

You risk a glance down your body, and the sight nearly undoes you. Jungkook is watching you intensely, brows drawn, lip ring caught between his teeth, arms flexing where he’s bracing you open.

The look on his face alone could make you finish.

“Please,” you gasp. “M-More.”

He nods once, like he’s been waiting for you to ask. “Yeah, baby?” he’s clearly out of breath, thumb brushing over your thigh in grounding circles. “I got you.”

Jungkook clicks the vibrator up to the medium setting, and the second the stronger vibration hits your clit, your back arches clean off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat. There’s a hum that comes from low in his throat while he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“You’re so good for me,” He says against your skin. “So desperate already. Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you? Just from how good it feels?”

His tattooed fingers squeeze your flesh harder, holding you open, keeping you steady, and the way he’s looking at you makes you want to sob, truthfully.

Jungkook drags the vibrator in slow circles over your clit, keeping you teetering right on the edge before mercifully setting it down beside you. You barely have time to breathe before he’s spitting into his hand and sliding two fingers between your thighs.

The second he pushes them inside your entrance, you buck violently, a whine tearing out of your mouth. “F-fuck—”

You feel impossibly full already, walls clenching around the stretch, the slick sounds embarrassingly loud in the otherwise silent room.

Jungkook groans mostly to himself, head dropping forward to watch where he’s sinking into you.

“God, baby,” he exhales, curling his fingers in that way that makes your toes curl too. “You’re so fucking wet.“

You moan helplessly. Obviously, the man must be trying to kill you. A death wish of sorts. He works his fingers inside you, dragging them along that sweet spot that has you keening into the mattress before reaching over with his free hand to flick the vibratot back on.

He sets it to the highest setting — and holy mother — you nearly catapult off the bed. The intense, overwhelming buzz against your clit paired with the slow pump of his fingers inside you is absolutely lethal.

You choke on some form of a gasp, thighs jerking. All thoughts of work, stress, the world outside this room — gone. Obliterated.

Jungkook, flushed and sweaty, arm veins flexing with every stroke of his fingers, can’t take his eyes off the mess you’re making on your sheets beneath you.

Your thighs are trembling violently now, little spasms you can’t control. You try — god, you want it noted you do try — to keep your hips still, to hold off a little longer.

But the man is evidently on a mission. Fingers fucking into you deep and steady, the vibrator merciless against your clit, voice rougher than normal: “Cum for me, baby. I wanna see it. Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers. Please.”

You’re way past the point of rational thought. Spinning out. Every nerve ending burning hot under your skin.

“Fuck—” you sob. “Kook— I’m gonna— oh fuck, fuckfuck—”

Neither of you get to find out what you’re “gonna” before the orgasm tears through you viscerally, a full-body convulsion that has you crying out and grabbing onto his wrist.

Your toes curl involuntarily against the sheets while your thighs close around his head, stomach muscles clenching before your whole body lets itself fall into the pleasure.

For one disorienting moment, your vision actually blurs at the edges — a genuine blackout that some doctor could probably explain but you're certainly in no condition to contemplate — while somewhere in the distance you hear yourself gasping his name in a way that makes you grateful these walls are soundproof.

You’re panting when it finally ebbs, chest heaving, pussy clenching desperately around his fingers. Jungkook presses a kiss to your thigh again, slowly eases his fingers out and shuts off the vibrator that's become both your nemesis and savior in the span of minutes.

There’s a quiet that feels almost startling compared to your thundering heartbeat.

You’re floating somewhere, the bed seeming to perform a gentle carousel spin around you when he grabs your face gently with both hands and kisses you. You kiss him back automatically, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt.

Through the haze, you murmur against his mouth, “Take your sweatpants off. Wanna fuck you.”

He responds with a groan, pressing his forehead against yours. Insistently, you tug at the waistband, whining a little when he resists.

“Come on,” you mumble, still half-drunk off your orgasm. “I need you.”

He makes a choked sound and pulls back to look you in the eye. His body moves to lean against your headboard, and you scooch over to kiss down his neck while he tries to come up with whatever excuse he can.

And then comes the confession, tripping awkwardly from his lips. “I… uh…”

Your eyes narrow into spiteful little slits, pulling away from him.

He winces, a full-body cringe that would be adorable under other circumstances but currently only amplifies your confusion.

“I… I came already,” He confesses, so low you almost don’t catch it.

Jeon Jungkook? The Jeon Jungkook… came in his boxers like a teenage virgin.. from using your vibrator against you?

You blink repeatedly, brain attempting to process this unexpected plot twist.

“What?” You say dumbfounded.

He covers his face with one large hand in the universal gesture of mortification, ears betraying him by flushing a deep crimson even in the room's low light.

“You— you… came? Just from—?”

Your boyfriend groans, clearly exploring the possibility of spontaneous human combustion as a merciful escape route.

“You looked so good,” he murmurs into his palm. “I couldn’t— fuck, I tried to hold it—”

You stare at him for another second. Then, completely against your will, you burst out laughing. It spills out in waves that are equal parts exhaustion, affection, and perhaps a whisper of mockery, but your attempts to suppress it prove to be futile.

Jungkook glares at you weakly through his fingers.

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, “My idiot.”

He grumbles something unintelligible while pulling you firmly against his chest, a transparent attempt to muffle your laughter and hide his reddening face but your giggles persist. At some point, you do take the opportunity he presents to nestle your face into the warm crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, a chuckle exiting once every few minutes.

All things considered?

Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday night. Not bad at all.

masterlist + ask

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Taking care of Coryo afte the bombing. He's being stubborn and doesn't want to rest and maybe says something hurtful to reader?

I started over three times...I hope you like it

Warnings: mention on bombing and deaths

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were sitting by his side when Coriolanus’ eyes slowly opened, stirring from his deep sleep. He shifted in the bed and made a sound of discomfort, his shoulder throbbing. 

‘’Easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself,’’ you said, helping him off his stomach and into a more comfortable position. 

The scene had been horrifying to watch on the screen of the academy. No one knew exactly what had happened as the area wasn’t a very secured place. The screen had turned black after catching some of the explosions, leaving everyone in the auditorium worried for their fellow classmates — and tributes.

You brushed a hand through his hair, looking down at him. ‘’How are you feeling?’’ 

Coryo’s eyes met your concerned gaze. ‘’Lucy Gray, is she..?’’ he asked, a fog enveloping his mind. 

‘’She is okay,’’ you reassured him. ‘’They took all the remaining tributes back at the Capitol zoo.’’ 

‘’I’m guessing they’re still going with the games.’’ 

You nodded. ‘’Do you remember what happened in the arena?’’ 

Coriolanus winced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. ‘’It’s all a blur,’’ he admitted, his brow furrowing. ‘’Explosions, fire and…people were running and more bombs going off. Lucy Gray and I got knocked down when the first bomb exploded. I tried to get back up, but a piece of the arena’s structure fell on me. She came back for me.’’

You gave a sympathetic smile, continuing to run your fingers through his disheveled hair. You had been so worried when Tigris told you a piece of the structure had fallen on her cousin during the bombing. ‘’They were old bombs some rebels must have placed between the end of the last games and now. The area is not well secure, so they could have gotten in at night.’’

Tigris returned shortly with Sejanus behind her. He was bringing information on the tributes and mentors' conditions. Coriolanus nodded as his friend spoke, absorbing the information while you held his hand, stroking the back with your thumb. Four tributes and two mentors had died. 

‘’Wherever Marcus is right now, he has more chances at survival than in the arena,’’ Sejanus said, still cursing his father for buying his old friend as tribute. It was sick. 

Coriolanus sighed, the weight of the games and the Plinth prize still on his shoulders.  

‘’You should rest,’’ you said to Coryo after Sejanus left. 

‘’I don’t have time to rest. The games are tomorrow. I need to think of a strategy so I can make my tribute win—’’ He tried to sit up, his face twisting with pain. ‘’Fuck.’’ 

‘’You don’t care about the girl! I know you’re doing this for the Plinth prize, but no amount of money is worth risking your health for. You need to rest, Coryo.’’ 

A bitter retort escaped his lips. ‘’Says the one who’s family is bathing in money.’’ He stood, seeking support from the wall as his head began to spin from the concussion. ‘’If I don’t win this money, everyone will know about the Snow family’s downfall. There was an eviction notice on our door last week. Tigris tried to hide it from me, but I saw it. We can barely afford food, how are we gonna pay rent? I need to go to university. I have to support my family. Without the Plinth prize, none of this can happen.’’ 

His state of panic made his head hurt from the heavy thinking. Coriolanus groaned, the pain intensifying, and released the wall to cradle his head in his hands, causing him to lose balance.  Instinctively, you moved swiftly, grabbing him before he could fall, and guided him back on the bed. 

‘’I may not know what it’s like to struggle financially, but don't hold it against me for being born into my family,’’ you said, not allowing him to make you feel bad for your social class. He couldn’t take his frustrations out on you. ‘’I don’t prance around my family’s money like our classmates do, or look down on the less fortunate. If you want to secure this prize, you need to lie back and rest. You can’t make your tribute win if you can’t even stand on your feet.’’ 

One thing you had learned these past years was that Coriolanus was the most stubborn person you knew. His determination could never be underestimated, a trait that often bordered on obstinacy. It was a crucial part of what made him who he was. Fortunately, you were one of the only people who knew how to reason with him and talk him down when he was being unreasonable. It wasn't always an easy feat, considering his unyielding nature, but you had honed the skill of navigating through his stubbornness.

He let out a sigh of defeat, knowing you were right. ‘’What am I gonna do?’’ Fear and desperation laced his voice, pulling at your heartstrings. 

You sat beside him and gently placed your hands on his face. ‘’We’ll figure something out,’’ you promised, letting him know he wasn’t alone. ‘’For now, you’re gonna lie back in bed while I find you something to eat. I can hear your stomach screaming.’’

Coryo managed a faint smile, appreciating your concern. ‘’It’s not that loud...’’ 

You gave him a look as his stomach betrayed him with a loud noise. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

—

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet  @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas  @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange

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[fandomonetwo]

ain'tcha just the cutest — miguel diaz

▸summary: you have a phrase that you love to say to your boyfriend. miguel loves when you say it. win-win.

▸characters: miguel diaz, gn!reader

▸tw: fluff and sweet moments and cute stuff

▸a/n: uhhhhhhhhh personally i'm an angst girly but i need to expand my skills

IT IS A well known fact that Miguel is not a morning person. He is a bomb-sleeper. An earthquake could hit and he'd simply switch to the other side and continue dreaming.

This is the reason why you were awake, and he was not. Mind you, it was nine in the morning, but you had nothing to do, so you could kill a couple hours more.

You were not a strong sleeper. You were a lightweight, and once the slumber was gone, it was gone. It had happened a few times, but it was lessening recently, which you were thankful for. It just meant that you still got up early, sometimes at the crack of dawn.

It also meant that Miguel had his arms around you, restricting your options of escape as he snored delicately next to you. You wouldn't move for the world, but you had needs, and unfortunately, his arm was, in fact, pushing down on your bladder.

You tried slipping from his grip. He only tightened it and grumbled. You tried waking him up. He only cuddled more into you. You tried to wriggle out and forcibly remove his harm from around you. He simply slapped your hand away in his sleep and sighed as he placed back around you. It was futile. But it was cute.

But you really needed the bathroom.

So you resorted to an absolute manipulation strategy. You placed kiss after kiss after smooch after peck on his face until her eventually had to rub his eyes open. You took your chance, darting from his grasp before he could secure back to him. You chuckled lightly as you heard him whine into the pillow.

You came out of the bathroom finding him in exactly the same position he was in a couple of minutes ago, breathing deeply and half his head smushed in the pillow. You knelt next to the bed, brushing his very lovely hair away from his face. He grumbled again, grabbing your hand lazily and holding it to his chest.

You chuckled again, getting back into bed in a sitting up position so to be more comfortable as you played on your phone. You stroked his hair after freeing the hand he had grabbed.

"Ain'tcha just the cutest?" you mumbled under your breath. He nuzzled into your ribs, tickling you a little.

There was no reply, but that was the first time you said it.

The next time you said it, it was his birthday. You had wished him a happy birthday, and had given him his gift. It was a bracelet that he commanded you put on him immediately.

After the day went by, you paid him another visit, carrying a wicker basket with a blanket over the top. When you announced it was picnic time, he nearly tripped after trying to put on his best pants quickly.

Luckily, you managed to get to the grassy spot you had meditated on using a few hours ago without harm. He was fine, you were fine, everything was fine. You laughed through the afternoon, you kissing into the sunset, and you ate into the evening.

He must've been ravenous, because when you looked at him after taking a picture of the sunset on your phone, you burst out laughing. This boy had tomato sauce all over his face, and he still continued to devour the plate of spaghetti in front of him.

"Whatcha laughing at?" he asked, his words muffled because of the spaghetti. This only made you laugh harder, falling backwards as you clutched your sides. Poor guy was so confused when you started gasping for breath, looking at you with wide eyes.

When you sat back up, you grabbed a napkin from the basket, bringing it to his face. You held his face in one hand and wiped the sauce from the other. The previous exaggeration was not quite true. It was not all over his face. It was just gathered in the corners of his mouth, like a toddler. He waited patiently for you to finish bathing him, grinning at you when you halted.

You giggled, patting his face with the hand that was previously holding it. "Ain'tcha just the cutest?" His face lit up more than it did before, and his eyes could rivals lying saucers.

The most recent time you said it was when there was a rumour going around school about you. Something about you and your relationship history, which was actually over way before it began. But people loved to hold onto things that gave them a reason to poke their nose where it didn't belong.

So, you never let it bother you. Miguel was a little harder to persuade, but eventually, he left it alone. And it was a good decision. The rumour died down, the people lost interest, and you had a good day at school. Until you stepped into the cafeteria to see Miguel and another student tussling on the ground. The two boys were rolling around, and only did they separate when two teachers pushed past the masses of people and forcibly pulled them away from each other. Both were sent to the nurse, and you followed behind. They were sat on the two beds that were there.

You sighed as you stood in front of your boyfriend that had his head down to look at your feet. He was swinging his legs and cracking his knuckles and playing with his fingers.

"Look at me, please." Your voice was gentle and held room for negative response. But he'd never deny you anything, so he looked up at you. You sighed again.

His face wasn't as bad as the other guy's, but it was still roughed up. He was holding a tissue to his bleeding nose, his eye was a little red, he had a scratch on his cheekbone, and his knuckles were spotted like a dalmatian.

You took another tissue, wet it with your water bottle, and held it up to his scratch. You just cleaned it a little, and his twitched his eye a little. You heard the nurse and the other boy talking in the next room.

You finished cleaning the scratch before putting on a plain bandaid. You stroked his cheek.

"What did you hit him for?"

Miguel grumbled. "He was talking about you and the other guys, about how he was one of them and that he made you feel better than I do."

You frowned. You didn't even remember the other guy's face, how could he have—

Oh.

You scrunched up your nose. You'd forgotten about that.

"Miguel, he was a one night stand. Two years ago. We were at a party, and a little tipsy, and we did it." You leaned a little closer to his face. He met your eyes with his own. "I can assure you, I didn't even remember his face until now. How could he have made me feel good?"

He breathed out a laugh. "What about me?" He was blushing a little bit as he asked. "Do I make you feel good?"

You kissed his bandaid, holding his face in your hands, smushing it a little. "You make me feel best."

He grinned. He liked grinning. He had a good grin. "I make you feel best?"

"Yes, you do."

"Even though we don't..."

"Even though we don't."

"I love you lots, you know?"

That made you giggle. "I love you lots too." His eyes shone like stars when you said that, making you bump your noses together. "Ain'tcha just the cutest?"

"I am?"

"You are."

You kissed his bandaid again.

[cybertron-after-dark]

You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?

I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up

-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.

-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.

-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.

-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.

-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.

-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.

-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.

-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.

-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.

-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...

-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.

-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.

-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.

-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.

-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.

-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.

-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.

-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.

-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.

[weaveandwood]

The Snake and The Crow: An Ending and A Beginning

Pairing: The Viper x Female Rook (Bianca, an Antivan Crow mage) Words: 4.8K Rating: Mature

Summary:

The final showdown between Bianca and Elgar'nan. How does she cope in the aftermath when everyone moves on except her?

AN: Just one chapter left!! Please let me know what you thought of this one, I haven't told anyone my plans and I am positively giddy this one is out now.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated and help my work get seen!! Thank you!

Read on AO3! Previous Chapter

This was it. Everything they had been fighting for, fighting toward, would be over after this. The eclipse bathed everything in its violent red light, as if the ground were already preparing itself for the immense bloodshed that would come to pass if Elgar’nan was successful today. The blight surrounded them, defiling Minrathous even more than before. It pulsed and oozed and danced its disgusting dance, the threat of the darkspawn within its pools ever present. It was not a future anyone could survive. 

Bianca rolled her shoulders. It was not a future she would let happen. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, looking over her shoulder to Lucanis and Harding as she faced the two great doors leading into the ruins of the Archon’s throne room. Nearby, they heard a sharp whine and crumbling stone as Solas fought the archdemon. “No turning back now.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucanis said, his eyes glowing violet and wings unfurling, hands clenching with rage. “He will pay for what he did to Neve.” 

“Whatever it takes,” Harding said with her unwavering determination.

Looking at them both, Bianca almost believed they would get out of this alive. They had to—both Lucanis and Harding had someone waiting for them at the end of this. Bianca would see to it that they had their happy reunion. Whatever it took. 

The throne room was a shell of the grandeur she could only assume it once was. Magisters dangled from blight tendrils, so still Bianca couldn’t tell if there was any portion of the person inside remaining. Given what she had heard about most magisters in Minrathous, they likely were volunteers, submitting themselves willingly to this false god in their never-ending thirst for more power. They deserved this. Elgar’nan, blighted and angry, sat on the throne surrounded by disgusting tentacles of blight. His face was covered in inky black and his eyes glowed bright red.

“Such arrogance, thinking you can hide from your creator,” he said as they crossed into his line of sight, though she knew he had been aware of them since they entered. “I would have restored the glory your lives are too brief to remember.” 

Bianca had to hold back a bitter laugh. “What? Like D’Meta’s Crossing and Weisshaupt? Or anywhere else you’ve left your mark? I don’t remember seeing any glory there.”

He leaned forward, the blight tendrils glistening with every movement. “We only destroyed because you resisted. Every child would have blossomed under my protection, and my sister would have forged the blight into a tool of beauty. But she is dead.” He twirled the red lyrium dagger in his hands, slowly, as if he were examining it, reminiscing upon its creation. It was all they had left of their grand plans. “You will pay for killing her.”

He struck, fast and fierce and without warning. It was all she could do to roll away and dodge the barrage of lightning attacks he leveled at her. He was strong, as if he had unlimited stores of power within him. She could see how he could be easily mistaken for a god. 

She maneuvered around his attacks as best as she could, trying to get a read on his movements, his strategies, anything. There had to be a pattern there—everyone had them, she just needed time to figure it out. She would not find it. She blasted him with arcane bombs from her orb before setting them off with her mage knife. They barely scratched him. In fact, he laughed at her. Vicious taunts of “You are nothing” and “Nothing you do matters” rang through her head as she found herself fighting an aspect of him. A fake. A waste of time.

She tried freezing the ground to overwhelm him, but he was unphased. She hit him with her favorite void blade spell, dark energy slashing through him, but he brushed it off as if she had simply thrown a flower at him. Meanwhile, she took hit after hit, pain blazing through her like a wildfire. Lucanis and Harding were both flung across the room with little effort. 

The truth was this: until the archdemon was dead, they were his playthings. And it was their job to stay alive and keep him occupied until Neve could make that happen. Her heart beat louder in her head, the pain from his attacks growing ever and ever stronger. She faltered, crying out as something sliced against her leg before lashing out blindly with a blast of lightning that hit nothing. 

“Still you fight. Pathetic,” he laughed, the sound cruel and humorless.

Lightning fell from the sky and crackled around her, barely missing wherever her feet landed. He was toying with her. Her breaths were labored, most likely due to a cracked rib, and it was making it difficult to dodge. Come on, Neve , she thought, unsure how much more of this they could take. Her sparks rippled under her skin toward her fingertips as if they wished to leave her and join his power. Traitors. She downed a healing potion before dodging once more, narrowly escaping the slice of his blade against her back before hitting him with a blast of fire.  

He retaliated by plunging everything into darkness. 

“Lucanis! Harding!” she shouted, with no response. She was alone. She twisted, the orbs of lightning he hurled at her barely missing her. It was a distraction, she told herself. Nothing more than a trick to make her feel alone, isolated, willing to give up. She would not obey. She never would, as long as she lived. He picked the wrong elf.

“You failed to save the wardens at Weisshaupt, you fled in terror from Arlathan, you have done nothing! ” his voice echoed in her head, angry and exasperated before the darkness faded. “I have bound the souls of dragons, I have slain Titans, I have broken the will of gods!”

“You will not break me,” she said through gritted teeth as his great and terrible power forced her to her knees. He truly thought himself a god, the rightful ruler over everyone in Thedas. But he wasn’t. He was a man, only made immortal by the bond to his archdemon. A bond that would soon be broken. She saw Neve out of the corner of her eye, making her way to Elgar’nan’s blighted throne. Her heart started to beat faster, a small kernel of hope blooming. They would win this. They would. 

“You will not break me!” she yelled again as Neve took control of the blight, loosening its hold on Solas, allowing him to take out the archdemon at last. Elgar’nan’s screams were worth the violence she witnessed as the Dread Wolf ripped out the throat of the dragon. The power holding her on her knees fell away, and she could stand once more. 

Elgar’nan cried out, seething, glowing orange with fiery rage. His anger blazed around them, burning, slicing, exploding—uncontrolled due to his grief for losing his immortality. The wild burst of fire threw them to the ground, hot flames flying through the air inches above their heads. He would not win this, Bianca promised herself as she pushed the pain she felt with each movement into some secluded corner of her mind—she would deal with it later. Now was the time to finish this. 

They unleashed everything they had at him. With every strike of her lightning, she could sense him growing weaker even as he spouted words of false bravado, a desperate man clinging to power that he was losing quickly. The sweeps of his blade were getting sloppier, his hits farther off mark with each pierce of Harding’s arrows, with each slice of Lucanis’s knife, with each Arcane Bomb she leveled at him. He was near the end, she could feel it. They were so close. 

As it turns out, grief and rage make excellent bedfellows. Bianca was similar to Elgar’Nan in that way, she supposed. But that was where the similarities would end. His rage distracted him where hers gave her clear focus. He knelt near the center of what used to be the Archon’s throne room, panting from exertion, his focus on Harding instead of her. Big mistake. Bianca closed her eyes, remembering, channeling her grief. She thought of Ashur being flung against the wall by a blight tendril. She thought of the fallen allies who laid in the makeshift mausoleum. She thought of Davrin, lost forever. Neve, currently entwined in blight once more. All of the Shadow Dragons hanging throughout Dock Town as a message. So many deaths, so much destruction. 

No more. 

Sparks erupted from the ground, circling the still distracted Elgar’nan. She breathed in then out as she raised her hands, focusing all of her rage into the storm within her, fire mingling with her lightning. The two swirled together as the throne room was illuminated with her power. Branches of lightning and licking flames swirled around Elgar'nan, circling his wrists and neck, holding him in place. He attempted to struggle, but Bianca was stronger. She had to be. She pushed her hands outward, screaming as she channeled all her remaining power into this spell, making it explode in a swirling orb of violet light and orange heat. The blast was so forceful it blew them back several feet, shielding their eyes as hot wind gusted around them.  

Elgar’nan lay there twitching before going still. He died like any other man.

Time passes as it always does, and Bianca was a ghost in the Lighthouse. Haunting it, unable to move on. Slowly, everyone had left—back to their lives or forging new futures while she was still in the meditation room, swaying back and forth while watching the fish swim through the plants most evenings. Even Solas had moved forward with his life after binding himself to the Veil. Taash and Harding, Neve and Lucanis, Solas and the Inquisitor. Did they know how lucky they were? 

Her days weren’t idle. She never did have the patience for sitting and waiting, so she did what she did best—help. Every day she went to Minrathous, assisting Grey Wardens and Shadow Dragons with clearing the petrified blight, fighting to clear out what Venatori remained after Elgar’nan’s defeat. Dock Town was making great progress. It was amazing what could be done with an Archon who cared about the people, not just the upper echelons of society. At night, if she was lucky, she would be so exhausted when she came back through the eluvian, barely making it up to her room to pass out on the sofa and spend the night in fitful dreams, mostly about him, always just out of reach.

If she wasn’t lucky, she found herself on the floor, yearning to be carried away once more, swept up in the current of some grand adventure or even a small one—anything to avoid going back to…before. She had changed too much over these last long months. She was moorless, unable to find a path after defeating the gods and sealing the Veil. She couldn’t go back to Treviso, not yet. She knew she couldn’t stay here, but she just…needed some time. She would know when it was time to move on. Her head and her heart were too much at war. 

Some nights were bad nights—though if she were honest, most nights were bad nights. On the worst of them, she found herself on that rooftop in Dock Town, the scene of so many of her heartbreaks that now seemed to pale in comparison to this most recent one. The first night after defeating the gods, she spent hours up there, hoping he would climb the ladder. That she would feel his fingers on the nape of her neck once more and that he would be healed, like Neve and so many others. When the first bright sliver of sunlight appeared on the horizon and she was still alone, she wiped the tears from her face and left. 

A week later, she ended up in that same place on the rooftop, a crumpled letter in her hand. It had been found beneath a piece of petrified blight outside of the Divine’s Manor—dirty, stained with dried and blackened blight, yet somehow still sealed after all these days. It was addressed to her, written in an elegant script, the mark of expensive schooling. The moon was especially bright this evening, almost bright enough to read by, but she still conjured her orb, holding it as she cracked the seal with her other hand. Her breathing picked up and tears pricked her eyes at the first few words. Her heart cracked and broke, the wax seal over her emotions fully destroyed as she sobbed and read the rest. 

Dear Bianca,  If you’re reading this, I have succumbed—either to illness or violence but either way I no longer remain on this side of the Veil and have gone to the Maker’s side.   The truth of the matter is this. I kept many secrets from you, and now that I am here at the end of things, I must unburden myself to you who I trust most. This is my confession. I am the Imperial Divine, Aequitas II. I did not want you to know that name, I only wished you to know me as Ashur. Your Ashur.    I do not know if that’s fair to you, and if it is not, then I can only apologize once more. It does not make up for anything.  I may be the Divine, but I am also just a man. A man who was in love with you. I may be called Most Holy, but that is who you are to me, for it is you who I worship and raise up, who I wish to serve most. I may be the voice of the Maker on Earth, but it is your praises I sing when I recite the Chant.   I told you once that with the blight in my blood I had nothing to lose. I confess to you once more, now that I truly have nothing left to lose, that when I was blighted the only image in my head was that of you. You are etched in my every step, and even as I forget myself, I cannot forget you.   There is more I wish I could say, but I will leave it at this. My hope for you is happiness. My biggest regret is that it cannot be with me.   Live well.  Ashur 

She held the letter to her chest before scanning it again. He was in love with her. He was the Divine. He was in love with her. He was the Divine. And he was dead. Even if he wasn’t…he was the Divine and she was an elf, born to a slave in Vyrantium—a nobody, nothing. The small dust mote of hope that had bounced around in her soul whenever she thought of him finally fell to the ground, its small light flickering in and out. She was foolish to think…stupid to hope.

By the time she dragged herself back to her room at the Lighthouse, she was so exhausted from crying her mind didn’t fight her and allowed her to sleep. Her dreams were of him, as always.

Time continued its march and a month passed in the blink of an eye. Then another. Bianca found purpose in helping, the tedium of her routine the only thing getting her through the day, though she couldn’t stop herself from searching for his face in the crowd. She couldn’t stop herself from listening to passing conversations hoping to hear something, anything , about Ashur, The Viper, or even the Divine. She saw nothing, as always. She heard nothing, as always. She knew it was pointless, a futile effort born of desperation. She was trapped, stuck forever vacillating between what was and what could have been, unable to listen to her mind telling her what was true. Unable to accept that her heart was wrong, for once. Most days that stubborn flicker of hope was usually dimmed but flared to life once more on the rare occasions she thought she heard the timbre of his voice, or saw the bright red of his belt... 

No. He was not there. He would never be there. It was finally clear to her—it was time to leave Minrathous. It was time to move on. 

So there she was, standing one last time on that rooftop she found herself on more often than not these last weeks, a sentinel over a city that was moving on when she could not. The gentle mist from the evening had now become a steady, driving rain, washing away the sins of the city as it attempted to begin anew. It was better this way, she thought. No one could see her tears or hear her sobs as she finally gave in to the grief that had been gnawing at the edge of her consciousness these last weeks, no longer content with being shoved to the side for duty. 

He loved her. He was dead. He loved her. He was dead.

He had been burdened with so many secrets—was it better this way? Was he finally at rest, knowing he did what he could? Or was this some lie she was telling herself to ease that last bit of guilt that would never leave her? That she was, in some part, responsible for his suffering, his death, and her own pain. It was inevitable and would have always happened—no matter how many times she reweighed that first horrible decision in her mind, she never would have forsaken her adopted home, and he would have always rushed in to save those who could not save themselves at his own expense. 

Still, her memory ran through all the good times. The stolen first kiss in that basement storage room that left her heart racing and her body tingling. The first time she snuck into the hideout with her hands shaking from nerves, sure they would get caught. Breaking into his office, the night of her first Shadows celebration, the passionate sex after an argument. The brushing of fingertips as they passed each other, the charged glances after taking down Venatori or rescuing slaves. In the end, she came back as she always did to that last night in his bed, looking into his beautiful eyes as he brushed her curls back into place and asking her to stay the night, to attach strings to whatever it was they were doing. She didn’t realize then that they already had, that they would be bound to each other no matter how hard they tried to stay away from each other. That even as he fell deeper and deeper to the blight within him, there was a stubborn tether between them, glowing golden with hope, refusing to snap or break. 

She could still feel it now, if she tried hard enough. Would she feel it for eternity? Was this what it was like to love someone and lose them? Always feeling their tug on your soul, no matter how far away they were from you? She hoped that one day this sharp grief she felt stabbing her with each breath would soften and turn into something warm and soft within her. Something she could pick up from time to time and remember him with gentle tears and soft laughter instead of panicked gasps and loud sobs. She looked forward to that day. 

But it was not today. She stayed up there for a long while, crying and watching the movement of a city attempting to come back to life.

“You would love this, Ashur. You should be here. Why aren’t you here?” she whispered to no one in particular. He was too far gone when they defeated Elgar'nan. He had tried so hard, fighting the blight and helping them until the last minute, but it was too late. If she hadn’t been trapped in the Fade, if she had only been more sure of herself throughout this entire journey, maybe they would have faced him sooner, and Ashur would be standing here right now, next to her, holding her hand in his as they looked out over the city they saved together. If, if, if…the possibilities and potential outcomes that would never come to pass wrapped around her, constricting, squeezing the breath from her lungs and forcing her heart out of her chest. She patted the tight pocket of her leathers. She wanted so badly to take out the letter, to read it again for comfort. She always carried it with her since that first night, but she wouldn't dare take it out in this rain for fear of losing the only tangible thing she had of him. It was no matter, she had it memorized anyway. 

My hope for you is happiness.

Could she give him that? Could she find a way past this pain and find something that made her happy? She tried to imagine that future. Would there be another person pressing their devotion into her skin? Would she return to the Crows and become more valuable to House de Riva taking life after life after life? Would she travel the world—her toes in the sand in Rivain one day, and the next laying under the canopy in Arlathan watching griffons fly overhead? Would everything be colored by the thought that he should be here, by her side? She supposed it would for a time, before fading into fond recollection. A year, two, ten…she would always carry him with her in some form. She knew that.

“I’ll try. I’ll try for you,” she whispered to the moon, finally showing through a crack in the clouds, though the rain still continued its steady beat. Her heart would heal, it would shine through these thick clouds of grief surrounding it. It would not always be cracked and trampled and ground to dust. It had to. It had to. She stared at the small sliver of the moon, its pale light on her face and the rhythmic patter of heavy raindrops relaxing her. Tears still flowed freely down her face, but they were not coupled with wracking sobs. At least for now. She almost felt…peaceful. Almost.

Her assassin’s ears, as well-trained as the muscled in her legs, listened to the sounds of the city. A laughing couple running down the streets trying to get out of the rain, the quiet din of a nearby tavern, two cats fighting in the alley. She thought she heard the slight clanking of the ladder against the building—most likely the wind. But then she heard it again, and again, and again. Someone was climbing it. She heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her, made louder by the puddles on the rooftop. It was likely Neve, but the sounds weren’t right. Her breath caught and her heart raced. The tiny flicker of hope she had given up on started to come back to life, practically vibrating in the dust of her broken heart. No one ever checks the rooftops, he had told her. The footsteps grew closer before they stopped, the owner silent. She didn’t dare make a sound, to breathe, to move, to confirm that the impossible wasn’t happening.   

“Bianca.”

She gasped, turning around. Her eyes went wide and she fell to her knees, sobbing once more. 

Ashur stood before her unmasked and unblighted. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. She was simply desperate, she was imagining things. She knew she wasn’t back in the Prison of Regrets, but it felt like it. One last trick of the brain before leaving Minrathous for good.

He closed the distance between them quickly, crouching in front of her. His eyes were wet with tears and she watched one travel down his face. She reached out, her shaking hand touching his cheek, convinced he would fade away. Skin met skin. Real. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, as if he had been craving it forever. His hand took hers and he pressed a kiss against each of her knuckles. His lips were soft and warm, just as she remembered. Real. She looked between his eyes, those beautiful teal eyes that could always see right through her. She raked her gaze over his face, the high planes of his cheekbones, his perfect nose, the thin scars that ran down from his eye. 

He was real. 

“How?” she choked out between sobs. 

He kissed her.

[tareqsfamilygaza]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is (#286)

My Daughter Begs for Food… Then Cries Because Water Hurts Her Stomach Imagine your 4-year-old child crying not because she wants candy, but because her stomach is empty, and even water burns inside her. This is not a horror story. This is my daughter Masa’s life in Gaza right now.

My name is Tareq. A year and a half ago, I was a graphic designer. Now, I am designing survival strategies for my three daughters: Sham (7), Masa (4), and baby Wateen (1.5). Along with my wife Samar, we’ve been displaced 11 times, running from one bombing to another, living now in a rotting tent with no water, no electricity, and no way to keep warm.

Masa is malnourished, like many children here. Her body is too weak to digest food, and even clean water is painful for her. She holds her stomach, whimpers, and begs for something I cannot give.

💔 I feel like I’m failing as a father every day.

We’ve lost everything:

🏚️ Our home was destroyed in November 2023.

🚫 We haven’t had electricity since October.

🛑 There's no clean water, no food, no medicine.

👶 Wateen was born during airstrikes and has never seen peace.

🧼 My daughters cry when we try to bathe them because the dirty water burns their skin.

But now, we have a fragile chance to escape, with your help.

What we need to survive: 🟩 €75,000 covers evacuation costs, basic needs, and resettlement. 🟨 Even €50 can give a child the chance to eat, sleep safely, and smile again.

If you’ve ever looked into a child’s eyes and felt their pain, you already understand why this matters.

Here’s how you can help: Donate any amount, even €10 is a lifeline.

Share this with friends, family, on your story or feed.

Say a prayer for our family’s safety 🙏

Please don’t scroll past this. Every night could be our last. Let’s not let another child grow up only knowing war.

🧡 From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

@that-faerie-in-the-corner @amiya-shirou @emmanuor @farsight-the-char @colorfulatlas @laxsland @lepardlover @bismoaking @homunculusalphonse @zone0neko @galactic-mermaid @cosmic-horrors-in-forests @palestine29 @swordofazrael1992 @lowcallyfruity @uwabbittuwabbit @labutansa @dilfzuku @pelorsdyke @reyesstrand @luvqwish @sherbetp0p @starlightsugar @palestine @whatislovevavy @timeless-orchid @magentasky234 @swapauanon @pegglefan69 @writing-is-a-martial-art @bug-s0da @gazavetters @mildmayfoxe @sunnyartistwriter @gaza-giving-tree @madeline-kahn @unabashedmagicalgirlfan @averagenotnormal @emathyst9 @pet-shop-of-horror-fan @reyesstrand @rainy-fog @discreative @antixabound @liamins @thenextglamourousbard @jolyne-best-jojo @officialgleamstar @prisonhannibal

[sylvarantii]

Being a fan of crossovers, this movie was pretty exciting for me to check out. Definitely didn't disappoint!

Lupin the III vs Detective Conan: The Movie is sort of one I wasn't sure how to feel about since I think I've only watched maybe one season of Lupin and it was definitely one of the more "modern" seasons.

That said, while I knew what to expect considering I do at least know the general direction the series takes, I feel it's fair to warn people who aren't familiar with the series to tread lightly.

To sum it up, it's, well, raunchy. There's sex jokes and lots of seeing women in provocative ways (especially Fujiko, my god that woman is the poster girl of extremely sexual women, even in this movie). Tons of cleavage. A bathing scene. It's very adult. Haha.

Which normally isn't a problem, but...I wasn't too fond of the fact Haibara got dragged into it. I just think when you're discussing certain things about the woman body and it's addressed toward a child (regardless of how old she is mentally) it feels a little wrong. Especially with an adult implyingly getting handsy with said child while making said comment.

So just...keep that in mind if you're like me and you're a little put off by it.

The humor of the series was a very good addition to this movie. I really do enjoy some of the gags of the Lupin series and it certainly delivered in this movie.

The characters were all really fun. I think my favorites were Jigan and Inspector Zenigatta.

I love Conan and Jigan's little playful banter of "being father and son". It was very precious.

By the way, there was a tv special before this one (Same name, just doesn't have "the movie" added on in the title). I would highly recommend watching it first as it provides a lot of context for the movie. Not to mention they do bring up some things from the tv special in the movie.

That said, you CAN watch the movie without the context. It's not like it's hard to follow otherwise.

I also want to say that Satou was an absolute delight in this movie. I love how she's willing to admit Lupin was her first childhood crush, but has no issues taking him down. She's hilarious and I just really enjoyed her in this movie. I kind of wish there could've been more of her.

It's rather funny to me as well that you can easily pick out which designer was doing which of the background and side characters. Like, I do think the Lupin series and Detective Conan mesh pretty well, but there are VERY MUCH artistic differences between the two that can be spotted at a glance.

Now before I add this to the rankings, I would like to note I'm not going to add a movie number to it since technically "Dimensional Sniper" is considered the 18th movie. But since this one came out after the last one, I figured I'd watch and write a little something up.

1.) The Raven Chaser (13th Movie)

2.) The Fourteenth Target (2nd Movie)

3.) The Lost Ship in the Sky (14th Movie)

4.) The Time Bombed Skyscraper (1st Movie)

5.) Magician of the Silver Sky (8th Movie)

6.) Captured in Her Eyes (4th Movie)

7.) Crossroad in the Ancient Capital (7th Movie)/Lupin the III vs. Detective Conan: The Movie

8.) Quarter of Silence (15th Movie)

9.) The Phantom of Baker Street (6th Movie)

10.) Countdown to Heaven (5th Movie)

11.) Strategy Above the Depths (9th Movie)

12.) The Private Eyes' Requiem (10th Movie)

13.) Full Score of Fear (12th Movie)

14.) The Eleventh Striker (16th Movie)

15.) The Wizard of the Last Century (3rd Movie)

16.) Jolly Roger in the Deep Azure (11th Movie)

17.) Private Eye in the Distant Sea (17th Movie)

Perhaps it doesn't make a lot of sense, but for some reason, it just feels best to give it tie status with another movie. It could just be laziness on my part so as not to have to fix the numbers, but I kind of feel like this is the way to go.

Especially since it feels almost like an unofficial official part of the Detective Conan Movie saga.

I don't really expect anyone to know what I'm talking about, I already know how confusing I must sound.

Either way, ending notes, great movie! Highly recommend when you just want a fun watch to give you a few laughs

[absurdcosmonaut]

“Broken”

The workshop was as noisy as usual, with the usual songs playing through the fox’s sound system juuuuuust quiet enough for Sonic not to hear. The Tornado’s weapon systems needed to pack a bigger punch, and adding the portable missiles now without the chastisement from his older brother would be the best way to do it. Why was Sonic so hellbent on keeping him from his explosives anyway? You didn’t see HIM complaining about Sonic’s running habits with the Sonic Booms and all…

Right now, the onboard missile carrier would be retrofitted underneath the blue biplane where the bombs were meant to go (but he never got a chance to use them, ugh… stupid hedgehog always getting in the way…) but the fox was sure that such a change would be far more useful since they either met Robotnik’s forces head on or underground, eliminating the need for bombs entirely. (Much to the chagrin of the fox who wanted to use them so badly…)

Pondering about strategy however, was probably not the best idea when hammering steel bolts into sheet metal… a lesson the fox soon learned when the head of the excessively large hammer slipped and struck his paw right in the knuckle. The fox bit his tongue as he hissed, clearly another bad decision as the familiar taste of iron filled his mouth; hey, it sure beat waking up the hero of Mobius and having him discover the secret cache of weapons and ammo you’ve been making and hoarding. He tried his best to ignore the nauseating crack that emanated from his hand when the hammer came down upon his paw.

The fox retreated his palm, cradling it in his other paw as he made his way to the workshop bathroom. It was on the walk towards the bathroom door he finally got a look out the window. Sunrise. Shit. Sonic would be up any second! He ran over and quickly grabbed all the weapons and ammunition, shoving them back into various cabinets and safes hidden around the workshop to avoid the gaze of his surrogate brother. The pain in his hand seemed to disagree with each and every movement he made aggrieved the injured paw further; his eyes began to water as the last missile shell was shoved into the workshop closet.

One everything he was working on was shoved in some crevasse of the workshop, the fox dashed to the bathroom. Staring at himself in the mirror, the vulpine was met with a pitiful sight; fur matted and disorderly, covered in oil and grime; tails a dull shade of sickly beige rather than a vibrant yellow-orange; eyes weighted with heavy, dark bags under them that conveyed his revolt against sleep. He grabbed a washcloth from the sink and ran it under the faucet with some soap, frantically scrubbing each part of his body but to no avail. His fur was thick and the grime’d had hours and hours to set in; he knew the only way to truely clean now was a bath. Unfortunately, the workshop bathroom only had a toilet and sink.

He still had time! If he could just sneak into the house and into the bathroom he could take a shower and pretend he was never-

The fox stopped dead in his tracks and immediately dropped the washcloth he had been carrying to clean his fur. There, in the door to the workshop nested just in the corner above a small set of stairs, was a cobalt hedgehog sitting on the stairs. He leaned backwards with a socked foot over his knee, body supported by gloved paws. He had a serene look of mischief on his face, as if he was expecting the fox to notice him.

The fox’s eyes narrowed as he stammered, “h-h-ho-how…?”, thankfully he didn’t need to say anything more as his brother took the reins. “Oh… just about…”, he looked at his wrist as if it had a watch when it was devoid of one. He continued, “since you had that missile launcher out and were tinkering with it. Wondered when you’d figure out I was here”, he said casually.

The fox rubbed his injured hand idly, “so did you…?” Sonic cut him off again. “See your hiding places for all your non-big brother approved stashes? Perhaps…” Tails sighed in defeat as his tails fell to the floor and ears flattened onto his skull, at least he didn’t see the fox smash his hand. He pried his eyes from the hedgehog’s gaze and looked to the ground beneath his feet in shame. Sonic’s characteristic smirk fell as he suddenly sat up straight. The teen uncrossed his leg and scootched over, tapping the spot next to him on the stairs.

The fox complied with the invitation, and sat next to the hedgehog, though at the other end refusing to look him in the eye. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”, the voice was so understanding and devoid of any disappointment or ridicule that the ear closest to the hedgehog on the fox’s head stood on end and swiveled in the hero’s direction; an unspoken statement of intrigue and surprise. “Keed, you were born in the closest thing to hell on Mobius I could imagine. Those ignorant villagers knew nothing of your genius and put you through hell for it. Of course I can’t blame you for wanting to constantly protect yourself”, the hedgehog explained as he scooted over to the fox’s side and threw an arm around him. The fox looked over and Sonic could make out a teary gaze looking back at him as a solitary tear traced itself down the fox’s cheek, a telltale sign the fox’s high built walls to his emotions were about to crumble.

Luckily, Sonic immediately knew what to do, swooping the kid into his lap and hugging him close, rocking gently as he swayed. The fox put his good arm around the hedgehog’s neck and buried his face in his brother’s neck. “I-I’m… s-s-sorry…”, he choked out as he tried to suppress the sobs bubbling in his throat. In response, the hedgehog simply rested his chin in the fox’s head, nuzzling the fur on his head. “No bud, don’t be sorry. I just want to let you know that as long as I’m around, you don’t need anything extreme to keep you safe. That’s my job, don’t be trying to get rid of me just yet”, he concluded with a light hearted joke.

The fox nodded, a sense of peace and calm washing over him as the gentle rocking motion calmed his nerves. However, the moment was suddenly ruined by the pain in his other paw reminding him of his recklessness. Sonic looked down, “did you hurt it?”, the sentence seemed to be more of a statement than a question. The fox nodded. “Hammer”, it was short but he’d didn’t need to say anything else. Sonic held a hand just next to the fox’s injury. The fox hesitated for a moment before gently grasping his brother’s hand. A few gently pokes as the hedgehog felt around and a few yips and hisses from the fox and Sonic sighed. Tails could practically feel the frown on his face as he inspected the injury. “Yep, probably broken”, he said as the fox leaned back into the cobalt’s shoulder, a sense of guilt and embarrassment entering his mind.

His brother had always been surprisingly knowledgeable about basic medicine. First aid and emergency care coming natural to the hog. Tails had assumed it had been a result of his countless adventures as the hedgehog frequently had no one to rely on but himself.

Sonic stood up, fox being carried like he was when he was a toddler. Under normal circumstances, Tails would have objected to being carried like this, but instead simply laid his head on his brother’s shoulder too tired and sore to care or put up a fight.

When they got to the main bathroom, the sent of mint filled the air and the fox couldn’t help but smile. It was certainly an improvement over the oily machine smell of the workshop. He was sat down by the sink as the hedgehog rummaged through the drawers under the sink. After a few minutes, he pulled out a bandage wrap. He motioned tails to hold out his injured paw, which he did with some hesitation. The fox hissed when the wrap was fastened around his paw, but otherwise didn’t fuss.

The hedgehog continued, “welp, I was gonna have you take a shower, but I think we should have that looked at by someone first. Tails nodded, but was too focused on the floor and was only partially awake. Sonic seemed to notice and waved a hand in front of the fox’s face to get his attention, which succeeded when his fluffy brother looked up from his gaze on the floor. “You look exhausted. Didn’t get much sleep?” The fox shook his head with a yawn as he rubbed his eyes with his good paw. Sonic yawned as well, stretching with an exaggerated groan. “Ya, that makes two of us I suppose”, he admitted.

Tails was about to ask why when he was suddenly picked up again, this time heading to the hedgehog’s room, siting down with the fox once again in his lap. The seven year old soon found covers being draped around him and a familiar rocking motion coming back, preventing his thoughts from getting the better of him and the pain in his hand to melt away as he focused on the gentle side to side motion. He wanted to ask why the hedgehog didn’t sleep, but something told him he already knew the answer when his brother was up earlier than expected in his workshop watching him work away.

The fox’s eyes gradually started to drift closed until a hand reached up, scratching behind his ears, immediately sending the fox straight to dreamland.

Sonic chuckled at the ease of which the fox went to sleep, before lying down with the fox in his arms, being mindful of his injured paw. The blue teen suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion and promptly followed his protégés into dreamland, content with the knowledge that his brother was finally asleep and peaceful, even if a little broken in more ways than one.

[camp-counselor-life]

Five and a half years, five and a half lessons

I have officially been with [council] full time for five and a half years as of March. So I thought I'd share five and a half lessons in honor of that, things I have learned while being full time that I didn't learn as seasonal staff or in school. So, without further ado, here they are:

One - Even if you think you are excellent at a skill while working seasonally, when you start doing it year round, every day, you will improve on it.

Two - If you are some form of neurodivergent, you have to let go of being neurotypical in the workplace. Yes, do what keeps you safe, but don't ascribe to neurotypical workplace norms that don't work for you. Discover what strategies of time management, task tracking, and project work are good for you, not for everyone else. Anybody who judges you is an asshole and should be ignored.

Three - That work-life balance metaphor about the rubber and glass balls is true. And work cannot be the glass ball all the time. This has probably been the hardest lesson to me to learn, because capitalism has taught me that the work balls are always glass.

Four - If you have been neglecting your self care routine in college or wherever you have been, building that up again will make way more of a difference than you think it will. And I'm not talking bath bombs, I'm talking making yourself a filling meal, moving your body, and touching grass.

Five - If you stay in a job for a long time, people will come and go. Make friends and realize that the people with whom you really connect will stay in your life after you part ways.

And a half - It's all gonna be ok.

[siixkiing]

“Well, on the bright side of deciding to splurge on some bath bombs and planning my attack strategy on the Heavenly Realm, I got to also treat myself to some lovely looking peach themed bath bombs. Looks like I get to spoil myself after my little rampage.”

[datastring]

High-Speed Rotary Tablet Presses Market Set to Hit $1474.8 Million by 2035

The High-Speed Rotary Tablet Presses Market is projected to grow from $639.0 million in 2024 to $1474.8 million by 2035, according to a recent report by DataString Consulting. This growth is driven by increasing demand across several key industries such as pharmaceutical manufacturing, nutraceutical production, confectionery production, and chemical processing, as well as consumer goods manufacturing.

Detailed Analysis - https://datastringconsulting.com/industry-analysis/high-speed-rotary-tablet-presses-market-research-report

Key Applications Driving Market Growth

Pharmaceutical Manufacturing

High-speed rotary tablet presses are essential in pharmaceutical manufacturing due to their ability to produce large volumes of tablets quickly while maintaining precise tablet weight and size. Manufacturers like Fette and Korsch offer specialized equipment designed to meet the rigorous demands of the pharmaceutical industry, ensuring high-quality tablets that are consistent in shape, size, and potency. The automation of these presses has played a crucial role in improving the efficiency and accuracy of tablet production, making them a key component in modern pharmaceutical production lines.

Nutraceutical Production and Consumer Goods

The nutraceutical sector benefits from high-speed rotary tablet presses for producing tablets and capsules in large volumes, ensuring high production efficiency while preserving product quality. Similarly, the consumer goods industry uses these presses for the mass production of items like detergent tablets, bath bombs, and chlorine tablets. Bosch and GE Healthcare are some of the notable companies providing advanced tablet press solutions to meet the precision and speed demands of these industries.

Technological Advancements in Tablet Presses

The High-Speed Rotary Tablet Press industry is experiencing significant technological advancements that are driving market growth. The integration of automation and digital technologies has led to improvements in production speed, precision, and operational efficiency. Manufacturers are incorporating AI, IoT, and advanced control systems into their tablet presses to optimize performance, reduce production downtime, and ensure consistent tablet quality. These innovations have also contributed to the increasing demand for high-speed rotary tablet presses in various industries, especially the pharmaceutical sector, where precision and cost-efficiency are paramount.

Industry Leadership and Strategies

The High-Speed Rotary Tablet Presses Market is highly competitive, with major players such as Fette Compacting America Inc., KORSCH AG, GEA Group AG, and ACG Worldwide competing for market share. These companies employ various strategies to maintain their leadership:

Fette Compacting America Inc. focuses on delivering durable, high-speed tablet presses and emphasizes superior after-sales service and maintenance.

KORSCH AG specializes in offering versatile tablet presses that integrate seamlessly with production lines for greater flexibility.

GEA Group AG targets the confectionery industry with high-speed presses designed for robust, hygienic production environments.

KG Pharma GmbH offers custom-made, high-precision tablet presses tailored to various chemical compounds, emphasizing adaptability and precision.

Regional Market Outlook

North America

North America is a significant market for high-speed rotary tablet presses, driven by the pharmaceutical industry's continuous technological advancements. Changes in healthcare policies and the growing need for increased production efficiency have made rotary tablet presses a vital part of pharmaceutical manufacturing facilities across the region. Local manufacturers face increasing competition from innovative foreign companies entering the market, but North America’s robust infrastructure and advanced manufacturing capabilities offer ample opportunities for growth. To gain an edge in this well-established market, businesses need to focus on differentiating their products through exceptional post-purchase support and innovative technology.

Market Segmentation and Insights

The High-Speed Rotary Tablet Presses Market is analyzed across various segments, including:

Technology Type: Mechanical Drive, Hydraulic Drive, Electro-Mechanical Drive

Applications: Pharmaceuticals, Nutraceuticals, Cosmetics, Chemical Processing, Others

Material Type: Stainless Steel, Brass, Cast Iron

These segments showcase the diversity of applications across industries and the increasing sophistication of tablet press machinery, designed to meet the specific demands of each sector.

About DataString Consulting

DataString Consulting provides comprehensive market research and business intelligence solutions to assist companies in strategic decision-making, market expansion, and new product development. With over 30 years of combined experience in market and business research, DataString’s team offers insights into developing trends, competitor landscapes, and customer demographics. Their customized strategies help businesses identify growth opportunities and navigate the complexities of rapidly evolving industries.

[entervending]

Unlock the Versatility of Round, Acorn, and Egg-Shaped Capsules: Perfect for Toys, Gifts, Marketing, and More

Unlock the Versatility of Round, Acorn, and Egg-Shaped Capsules: Perfect for Toys, Gifts, Marketing, and More

Capsules are more than just containers; they are tiny treasure chests brimming with possibilities. From vending machines to educational tools, these versatile plastic spheres are transforming how we present and preserve small items.

Extensive Uses of Capsules

Capsules find their place in a myriad of applications:

Sales through Vending Machines

Remember those delightful moments of turning a knob and receiving a surprise toy? Capsules are perfect for vending machines, housing toys, souvenirs, and even cosmetics. Their colorful, eye-catching design draws in consumers, making them a hit in retail spaces.

Collecting and Trading

Capsules are a collector's dream. They often contain limited edition items, encouraging trading and enhancing the thrill of the chase for rare finds.

Gift Sets and Souvenirs

Imagine gifting a set of tiny surprises, each encapsulated in a vibrant shell. Capsules are perfect for creating memorable gift sets and souvenirs.

Promotion and Marketing

Marketing gets a playful twist with capsules. They can house discount coupons, branded souvenirs, or promotional materials, making your brand stand out.

Festive and Corporate Events

Capsules bring fun to events with interactive games, raffles, and lotteries. They add an element of surprise and engagement, making any event memorable.

Educational Purposes

Teachers and educators use capsules for interactive lessons, turning learning into a fun and engaging experience.

Transportation and Storage of Small Items

Capsules are ideal for securely storing and transporting small items like jewelry, coins, and screws, ensuring they remain safe and organized.

Surprises and Quests

Treasure hunts and quests become more exciting with capsules containing clues or small surprises, adding an element of mystery and fun.

Pet Products

Capsules are a convenient way to package pet treats or toys, ensuring they stay fresh and enticing.

Aromatic Capsules and Bath Bombs

Capsules enhance relaxation with aromatic ingredients, making bath time a luxurious experience.

Lotteries

Capsules are perfect for lotteries, housing numbers or tokens for prize draws, adding a layer of excitement to the process.

Detailed Description of Capsule Characteristics

Capsules come in a rainbow of colors—red, yellow, green, purple, blue, pink, and orange. They can be fully transparent, semi-transparent, or entirely colored, catering to various needs.

Sizes

From tiny 28 mm to a substantial 200 mm, capsules accommodate different products. Smaller sizes are great for trinkets, while larger ones can house more significant items.

Shapes

Round, cylindrical, and egg-shaped capsules each have their unique appeal, making them suitable for different applications.

Material

Made of durable plastic, capsules are reliable and protect their contents, ensuring longevity and safety.

Advantages of Using Capsules

Capsules are incredibly versatile, available in various sizes and colors. They are durable, user-friendly, and excellent for attracting customer attention, increasing sales, and solving marketing challenges.

Creating Promotional Texts and Posts

Engage your audience with memorable promotional texts that highlight the unique benefits of capsules. Strong calls to action can drive customers to incorporate capsules into their business strategies.

Real-Life Examples and Success Stories

Businesses across the globe have seen increased sales and better customer engagement through the innovative use of capsules. They’ve become a staple in marketing efforts and event planning.

Current Trends and Innovations

The latest trends in capsule usage include eco-friendly materials and customizable designs, making them even more valuable and appealing to various market segments.

Benefits of Capsules for Different Audiences

From businesses to educators, collectors to marketers, capsules offer a unique way to present products, engage audiences, and create memorable experiences. Unlock the potential of capsules for your business. Their versatility, durability, and appeal make them an excellent choice for various applications. For bulk gumball business needs, consider Entervending.

Click on Entervending to visit the website.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Spent all my life around horses, think I have their language figured out, more or less... at least with Scorpion. Take it your magic is on the fritz again too... so we're going to have to rely on mine and some old fashioned Witcher cunning. Hate to say I told you so, red... but I did tell you we should have found a way to destroy or hide that damn book a long time ago. Better late than never, I suppose. Let's see what we're dealing with, down below..."

The Witcher's low tone murmured to Sabrina with a nod, gesturing to lead her over to the side edge of the descending pathway, peering down into the pit and caverns below. The many sacrificed corpses of worker mules, people and sea life alike.... a putrid pit of mass sacrifices, rotting flesh and visible bones. He knelt down at the edge, keeping low and looking over the vast, fire illuminated caverns below... leading to the lost city of R'lyeh, he knew. Deeper beyond would likely be the colossal monoliths, statues and cairns he had read about... covered in dripping green slime. Somewhere beyond was the prison of Cthulhu... but he had no intention of searching for it. Venturing that deeply... despite the temptation of forbidden knowledge. If they were careful, they might be able to end the Cult's plans here without moving deeper... though it would still leave the Leviathan unaccounted for. He began to piece a strategy together, between what they had and what needed doing. His medallion hummed ever more powerfully... and he knew the Necronomicon had to be close... down there among the cult. The dozens of robed cultists chanting feverishly in their eldritch language... he could see their faces in their robes' hoods, mutated and fish-like features in the torch light. Had devoured more of the Leviathan's flesh than others for longer... not true Deep Ones yet, but perhaps on their way. They were well armed, and a number of them, if not all, capable of magic. This was going to require something more than brute force. With the plan in mind, he removed one of the Dimeritium Bombs from his bomb belt, holding the glinting shell up in the nearby torch light for the transformed Sorceress' giant hazel eyes to see for herself. Eskel's deep, calm voice murmuring again to the red mare, laying out his strategy. Rising to his feet again gradually at her side, reaching out and taking the time to run a gloved hand along her red mane soothingly.

"They see one of these dropping down there, they'll teleport it away before it can explode, then rain magic fire at us. We need a distraction. You. They're expecting you down there anyways, won't see you as a threat in this form. Think they have you. I'll apply a series of magical trap Signs to you that will go off when the cult comes into close proximity with you. Will affect them and not you. Let them lower their guard... until they spring the traps. When they are distracted I will drop Dimeritum Bombs on them, bath the area with magic depleting dust, force them to pause the ritual... and then strike them the old fashioned way. You make a dash for that damn book while I thin the herd, if it's down there, and grab it with that big mouth of yours. Bring it back to me. After that... I'm not sure. No clue how to destroy the Necronomicon, tried destroying other books like it, but there's nothing ordinary about them. Might have to head deeper into the city and feed it to the Leviathan or Cthulhu... that which makes it can almost certainly unmake it. We'll figure it out after dealing with the cult and getting our hands on it. Course that isn't factoring in the Deep Ones or Leviathan... or their master, further on... but it's a start. If you have any ideas and know how to translate them to me, do so. Or stomp again if you agree to the plan."

@fallesto

The mare did not hear him coming, whinnying in surprise and annoyance, her hazel fur glinting in the torchlight. Her eyes, filled with fire, searched the darkness for the next pathway. Her long, red mane and tail flowed around her like a fiery cloak, a stark contrast to the cold, damp air of the chamber. The hazel fur that covered her body shimmered under the torchlight, the red streaks in her mane and tail standing out like embers against the shadowy backdrop of the chamber. Despite the horror of her transformation, she was indeed a breathtaking creature, a testament to the power of the Leviathan that now flowed through her veins.

Her hazel eyes snapped with fury as she looked up at him, the creature she had become snorting and pawing the ground in a display of agitation that he had smacked her, what a prick. Yet she recognized him, and breathed out. For a moment, the fiery redheaded human he knew was there, looking at him through those eyes. She was beyond fucking angry now, her price for the book, for taking it all those years, countless years ago, at that cabin, the dead, the monsters, the impossible contract and she had stolen the book, when she was cursed and this was her fate now trying to destroy it, take back everything that the book had given her as she had used it to break her spell.

She whinnied angrily, her eyes flashing with the light of a thousand fiery suns. She was fucking pissed off, and she had every right to be. The stench of blood and fear was thick in the air, and she knew that the creatures below had something to do with it. She had seen the creatures, had felt their pain, and she would not let them go unavenged. She never cared for human life, hardly, but creatures, no. Like any witch, she had a ine and when it was crossed, she would kill. Her nostrils flared, and she pawed at the ground, eager to charge into battle. But the figure in front of her was not moving an inch Her body tensed, muscles rippling under her new form's skin. The whispers grew quiet, as if in anticipation of what was to come. The Leviathan's power thrummed through her, but she didn't move, didn't charge forward. Instead, she took a step back, her eyes never leaving Eskel's. It was a gesture of trust, a silent plea for help. She knew she couldn't do this alone, not in this form. The curse was too strong, the whispers too persuasive.

With trembling hooves, she tried to summon her magic, to feel the familiar flow of energy through her veins. But there was only emptiness, a void where her power once resided. She was more horse than she cared to admit, a creature of instinct and brute force, not the master of the arcane she had once been. The frustration mounted, a whinny of despair escaping her equine throat. The whispers grew louder, feeding off her distress. Her eyes searched Eskel's, desperate for a way out of this nightmare. She knew the words she needed to speak, the incantation that could shatter the curse, but her vocal cords would not obey her. All that came forth was the panicked snort of a trapped animal. The Leviathan's power was too strong here, its influence suffocating her humanity. The runes on her staff down the hallway pulsed with a sickly light, as if in sympathy with her plight. As she just sighed, and stomped the ground, yes she understood him, and yes, she was glad he was here to lend her some aid.

[priyanshisingh]

Bath Bomb Market Dynamics: Global Growth and Trends (2023-2032)

The Bath Bomb Market is projected to grow from USD 1,518.2 million in 2024 to USD 2,589.11 million by 2032, achieving a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 6.90%.

Bath bombs have become a popular indulgence in the personal care and wellness market, offering a luxurious and aromatic experience that transforms an ordinary bath into a spa-like retreat. These effervescent products, typically composed of baking soda, citric acid, essential oils, and various other ingredients, dissolve in water, releasing pleasant scents, vibrant colors, and skin-nourishing components. The allure of bath bombs lies in their ability to provide a multisensory experience, combining the visual appeal of swirling colors and the tactile sensation of fizzy water with the therapeutic benefits of aromatherapy. As consumers increasingly seek products that offer both relaxation and skincare benefits, the market has seen a proliferation of bath bombs featuring a wide range of scents, colors, and additional ingredients like moisturizers, flower petals, and glitter. Many brands are also responding to the growing demand for natural and eco-friendly products by offering bath bombs made with organic ingredients, free from harsh chemicals, and packaged in environmentally sustainable materials.

Beyond their primary function, bath bombs have become a popular gift item and a staple in self-care routines, celebrated for their ability to elevate mood and relieve stress. The customization trend has also touched this market, with options for personalized scents and designs, catering to individual preferences and special occasions. The versatility and appeal of bath bombs continue to drive their popularity, making them a vibrant segment in the broader wellness and beauty industry. As the market evolves, innovations such as CBD-infused bath bombs and those with specialized skincare benefits, like anti-aging or detoxifying properties, are expected to further expand their appeal and reach.

Bath Bomb Market Challenges:

Ingredient Sourcing and Quality:

High demand for natural, organic, and non-toxic ingredients.

Cost and availability of high-quality raw materials.

Concerns about skin irritation and allergic reactions from synthetic fragrances and dyes.

Environmental Impact:

Use of non-biodegradable glitter and plastic packaging.

Chemical additives contributing to environmental pollution.

Need for sustainable alternatives like biodegradable glitter and eco-friendly packaging, which can be more expensive.

Market Saturation and Competition:

High number of brands offering similar products.

Difficulty for new entrants to differentiate and gain market share.

Established brands need continuous innovation in formulations, scents, and marketing strategies.

Rise of DIY Products:

Increasing popularity of DIY bath bomb kits and tutorials.

Empowered consumers creating their own bath bombs at home, reducing demand for commercial products.

Regulatory Compliance:

Varying safety standards and labeling requirements across different regions.

Complexities in global distribution and increased compliance costs.

Economic Factors:

Fluctuations in raw material prices impacting production costs.

Vulnerability to changes in consumer spending during economic downturns, as bath bombs are often considered luxury or non-essential items.

Key Player Analysis

Lush Cosmetics

Bath & Body Works

The Body Shop

Village Naturals Therapy

da Bomb Bath Fizzers

Dr Teal’s

Oliver Rocket

Level Naturals

Luxurious Bath Boutique

HanZá Bath Bombs

Musee Bath

Sky Organics

LifeAround2Angels

Anjou

FRÉDÉRIC MALLE

More About Report- https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/bath-bomb-market

Bath Bomb Market Key Findings of Study:

Market Growth and Size:

The bath bomb market has experienced significant growth, driven by increasing consumer interest in wellness and self-care products. This trend is supported by the rising popularity of at-home spa experiences and the growing focus on personal care routines.

Consumer Preferences:

There is a strong consumer preference for bath bombs made with natural, organic, and cruelty-free ingredients. The demand for eco-friendly products has led to a rise in offerings that use biodegradable glitter and sustainable packaging materials, reflecting broader environmental concerns.

Product Innovation:

Innovation in the bath bomb market includes the development of products with added skincare benefits, such as moisturizing, detoxifying, and anti-aging properties. Additionally, there is an increasing interest in bath bombs infused with CBD and other wellness-enhancing ingredients.

Customization and Personalization:

The trend towards customization is evident, with consumers seeking personalized scents, colors, and designs. This has led to the growth of brands offering bespoke bath bomb options, including custom formulations for sensitive skin or specific therapeutic needs.

Distribution Channels:

E-commerce is a dominant distribution channel for bath bombs, offering a wide range of products and easy access for consumers. However, physical retail stores, particularly specialty beauty and wellness shops, continue to play an important role in the market.

Challenges and Constraints:

The market faces challenges such as ingredient sourcing issues, particularly for high-quality natural ingredients, and the need for compliance with varying global regulations. Environmental concerns regarding non-biodegradable components and packaging are also significant, prompting a shift towards more sustainable practices.

Regional Market Insights:

North America and Europe are key markets for bath bombs, driven by high consumer spending on personal care and wellness products. Meanwhile, emerging markets in Asia-Pacific and Latin America are showing increasing demand, fueled by growing awareness of self-care trends and rising disposable incomes.

Competitive Landscape:

The market is characterized by intense competition, with numerous brands competing on the basis of product variety, quality, and innovation. Key players are focusing on expanding their product lines and enhancing online presence to capture a larger share of the market.

Segments:

Based on Type:

Natural or Organic

Synthetic

Based on Fragrance:

Fruity

Floral

Woody

Citrus

Herbal

Other

Based on Application:

Household

Commercial

Based on Functionality:

Relaxation and Stress Relief

Energizing and Refreshing

Moisturizing and Nourishing

Based on Sales Channel:

Hypermarkets or Supermarkets

Specialty Stores

Pharmacies

Convenience Stores

Online Retailers

Other

Browse the full report –  https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/bath-bomb-market

Browse Our Blog: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/bath-bomb-market-projections-global-industry-analysis-sm79f

Contact Us:

Phone: +91 6232 49 3207

Email: sales@credenceresearch.com

Website: https://www.credenceresearch.com

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Autism Mom: Honoring the Unbreakable Bond Between Mothers and Their Autistic Children

Autism Mom: A Badge of Strength and Unwavering Love

"Autism Mom" isn't just a label; it's a symbol of unwavering love, fierce advocacy, and a commitment to a child's unique journey. Here's what it means to be an Autism Mom:

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A Champion for Acceptance: Autism Moms become vocal proponents for their children. They work tirelessly to raise awareness, dispel myths, and create a world where their children feel understood and included.

A Source of Strength: They are the rock for their children, providing emotional support and navigating therapies, appointments, and educational needs. Autism Moms are resourceful, constantly learning new strategies and adapting to their child's unique world.

A Teacher and a Learner: The journey of raising an autistic child is a continuous learning process. Autism Moms research, attend workshops, and connect with other families, constantly seeking ways to best support their child's development.

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A Tireless Advocate: Autism Moms are vocal proponents for resources, services, and appropriate educational settings for children on the spectrum. They fight for their child's rights and inclusion in classrooms, communities, and activities.

A Symbol of Love and Pride: Above all, Autism Moms are filled with an unwavering love for their children. They celebrate their unique strengths and perspectives, fostering a sense of pride and confidence in their children's journey on the autism spectrum.

Being an Autism Mom can be challenging, but it's also incredibly rewarding. It's a testament to the strength, resilience, and unwavering love a mother can possess.

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Choosing gifts for autistic adults can be tricky! Consider sensory preferences, hobbies, and interests. Here are some ideas:

Sensory Items: Fidget toys, weighted blankets, noise-canceling headphones, calming aromatherapy items.

Organization & Relaxation: Planners, journals, self-care products like bath bombs or essential oils, comfortable clothing.

Interests & Hobbies: Items related to their favorite activities like art supplies, board games, music equipment, or tech gadgets.

Experiences: Tickets to a museum or concert with noise-cancelling options, a spa day, a cooking class, or a weekend getaway to a quiet location.

Remember: Personalization is key! Think about what makes the autistic adult in your life unique.

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The interlocking puzzle piece is a widely recognized symbol for autism awareness. It represents the "puzzle" of understanding autism and the vast diversity of experiences on the spectrum.

However, some in the autistic community find the puzzle piece dismissive, suggesting they need to be "completed" or "figured out."

Alternative symbols, like the rainbow infinity loop, celebrate neurodiversity and the unique strengths autistic individuals possess.

Regardless of the symbol used, raising awareness for autism and fostering acceptance for autistic people remains crucial.