#225 fucking years

[telltalebatman]

my father collecting character flaws like

[batwing00]

does anyone else ever think too hard about the fact that we are quite literally on a rock hurtling through space at inconceivable speeds while also just spinning all the time??

im incredibly happy we cant see all that when we look up at the sky bc damn that would suck (or maybe be cool IDK i have conflicting feelings about it)

[hearts4skywalker]

shut up and drive 𐙚 anakin skywalker

❝if you can baby boy, then we can go all night❞

𐙚

synopsis: after his race, anakin fucks you rough whether he won or not.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, modern!racer! anakin, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f reciving), praise kink, size kink

wc: 1.2k

ANAKIN SKYWALKER is the best racer. there's no doubt about that. everyone knew this. he's got tons of fans too. it feeds his ego to the brim.

you, being the supportive girlfriend you are, always went to his races. it didn't matter if he lost or won. you were getting used as soon as you got home. and you were completely okay with that.

here you were, standing all pretty on the sidelines of the tracks, watching your boyfriend in his fancy red car. he was doing pretty good.

that was until he saw you, all pretty watching him in his jacket that was oh too big on you.

he quickly fell behind a few other drivers. his grip on the steering wheel became tighter, knuckles turning white.

obi-wan turned to look at you. “what's he doing?” he asked you, his accent thick yet clear. he crossed his arms, watching anakin. “'m not sure.” you respond, brows furrowed and mouth parted slightly.

anakin shook his head, trying to get the thought of you out of his head. he pressed his foot a little harder on the gas, passing a few people until he moved from eighth all the way to third.

“atta boy.” obi-wan cheered, his hands moving to rest on his hips. you couldn't help but watch anakin's car in awe. anyone who looked at you would have sworn they saw stars in your eyes.

and you could have sworn you saw his ego get bigger with every sign he caught glimpse of. he was that guy who everyone went for. like travis kelce or messi. and he was well aware of that, thanks to you.

he loved when you would force him to make a video with you and read the comments out to him. "he's so fine." "he's not a want, he's a need." "adding him to the smash cake."

things like that fed anakin skywalker's ego.

you watched him closely while he passed second place, putting him in second instead. they were nearing the final lap, and you could see just how focused anakin was. his brows furrowed slightly and from what you could see, the veins in his hands popped out.

you'd be lying if you said it wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

anakin's eyes weren't even focused on the road. they were on stupid clovis and his car. anakin pressed his foot even harder on the gas, despite having a moral about not going over 225. but he'd rather not touch you for a year than loose to clovis.

he pressed down, going 235, then 250 once he'd passed clovis. there was no stopping him now. as soon as he'd made that final lap in first, you cheered with obi-wan. “holy shit.” you smiled proudly.

as soon as they waved the flag and announced the last-lap pass win, anakin got out of his car. he knew he wasn't really supposed to, but in that moment he didn't care. he had too much adrenaline.

he immediately rushed over to where you and obi-wan were standing. he wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up in the process.

small giggles escaped your perfectly pink lips, his favorite shade of lip gloss spread on them. "hi, ani." you smiled. he set you back down on the ground. "you go on home now baby, i'll see you when this is over. m'kay?" he kissed your temple, squeezing your waist gently.

sitting at home, you already knew what was coming when he walked through that door. whether he won a race or lost, you were getting fucked.

he threw his keys down on the counter, smiling at you. you laid on the couch, scrolling on your phone. already in one of his t-shirts. there was nothing anakin loved to see more.

he got on his knees in front of the couch, lips pressing kisses to your bare thighs. your toes curled slightly, legs stretching out. your phone was long forgotten about, tossed to the side. "hello to you too, ani." your words came out in a giggle as his hair brushed against your thigh.

he looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. a look of need spread across his face. he stood up, climbing on to the couch. his calloused hands came up to your chest, hands rubbing your breasts through your shirt.

his hands moved, rubbing up and down your sides. goosebumps coated your skin. your body arched to his touch, causing him to need you even more.

anakin moved down, hands resting on your tummy. he moved your shirt up, letting it rest comfortably on your hips. his fingers pulled your underwear down softly, careful not to hurt you.

you looked down at him, giggling softly. this was your favorite part of his races.

he kissed the inside of your thighs softly, his hair tickling your thighs again. he placed a kiss to your clit before licking a long stroke between your folds. you let out a breathy moan, back arching even more.

he continued to lick between your folds, occasionally sucking on your clit, causing your fingers to pull his hair. silently begging and pleading him for more. his tongue lapped around your folds before he attacked your aching clit. moans spilt from your lips.

"ani m'close." you managed to breath out. he immediately stopped, kissing your thighs again few times before sitting up despite your whines of protest.

you immediately stopped complaining when you heard anakin struggling to get his belt off. when he finally got it undone, he threw it somewhere in the living room. his dick was excruciatingly hard pressed up against his tummy. his tip was red and swollen. precum dripping down the side.

he pulled his boxers down, giving himself a few strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. he started off slow, pushing himself in. he knew he was big. no matter how many times you'd had sex before, he always started slow.

you couldn't hold back the moans that fell from your parted lips. he moved the sweaty hair out of your face. "doin' so good f'me baby." he cooed, moving deeper in you. "gonna fill you up so good." he caressed your cheek softly.

after you'd gotten used to his size, he bottomed out in you, causing you to let out a string of curse words and moans. "fuck ani. feels so good." you could hardly think.

he pressed his hands back down on your tummy, watching how deep he was in you. "look at my dick, fillin' you up so good." he moved faster, causing your eyes to water up with tears.

"you're such a good girl f'me baby. takin' my cock so well. atta girl." he praised, causing you to moan. you nodded your head quickly. he chuckled softly. "i know baby. you're so good."

his thrusts became more sloppy and needy when he sped up. you couldn't hold back from being excessively loud. "close ani." you whined out, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening. "i know baby. you wanna let go f'me?" he asked you, continuing his rough pace.

with a breathy moan, the knot came undone, letting your fluid coat his dick. with a few more thrusts, anakin finished inside you. he kissed your lips, pulling out from inside you. "you did such a good job baby. m'so proud of you." he cooed, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

he laid down next to you on the couch, kissing your face softly. "shower now?" you giggled, sitting up. "oh no baby. i won tonight. we gotta long night ahead of us." anakin smirked.

i fear smut may not be my calling 💔

[theblobmaster]

i've been thinking about omega jason for a while now. specifically why he'd be an omega.

jason was TINY before his dip in the lazarus pit. his death certificate says 4'6" and 87 lbs (137 cm & 39,5 kg) which at 15yo is very, very fucking small.

and then after lazarus pit he's now 6' and 225 lbs (183 cm & 111 kg). so that's a big difference from what is hinted to be an adjustment of his stunted growth because of malnutrition in his early childhood.

but back to omegaverse, now i normally don't really like the whole omega = small, alpha = big, because that's fucking boring and very heteronormative. BUT let's say that because of that course correction the pit did on his build would indicate that jason was supposed to be an alpha.

so what if, in an omegaverse au, because of his malnutrition, because of how he grew up, his biology changed. knew he no longer would be able to grow into that big ass alpha that his genes promised and instead decided to develop the more latent omega genes and after he begins to find a place at the manor to feels safe, a place where his body feels like he would be able to present in, he goes into heat not long before he dies. maybe he only has that one presenting heat and not really finding his footing with his secondary gender before he dies.

and then he comes back, the superboy prime punch, and then the wandering on the streets before talia finds him, and it would make sense if he didn't have any heats in that period because of the heightened stress his body was going through so he's not producing a lot of scent pheromones and omega hormones.

when he comes to himself after the lazarus pit, and his body starts to adjust to his new growth spurt, focusing his energy on that and still not producing any of those obvious omega pheromones and hormones and talia never learnt his dynamic before he died. (maybe bruce didn't know, maybe he did and just didn't tell who knows)

and if we go with the whole body not going into season when it seems like it's not safe. his years training with all of those expert teachers of how to kill ect he wouldn't get a heat.

just jason thinking he lost his secondary gender when he died, and not finding it important because there's nothing indicating he'll ever go into heat again. maybe it was just a fluke that first time?

and he comes back to gotham, and he has his showdown with bruce and it goes to shit. but then it starts to settle and jason starts to find a footing and places he feels safe in, finds teams he can count on.

with that his body starts producing those hormones again, people around him starts to notice a change in his scent, but jason doesn't notice how they also change with that pheromone change from him.

until one day where he is at that one safehouse, that's more home than the others and bam he's in heat and he has only experienced that once before, it's been a lifetime and many years since he was holed up in his room in the manor and had alfred making sure he had food and water and a hotpack for the cramps and for a short moment he panics. wants to reach out and call alfred, ask for help, but isn't sure if he'd get it

idk i have a lot of feelings about omega jason. and i think there's so many interesting ways to explore omegaverse and the way it can function through omega jason.

(also because i love them, dick coming to see if jason can help with a case and instead discovers his little wing sweating profusely and curled up and he can't not help out. he's not ready for all of those heat pheromones, but he takes it in stride and decides to work through how jason is apparently an omega later and instead just makes sure that jason is hydrated and takes care of him until jason is lucid enough to be embarrassed and kicks him out)

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

Before I got sober I was like buying weed like a quarter pound at a time cuz I had a decent custodial job and like few financial responsibilities besides rent and id sell to this guy who was like only a couple years older than me and he would pay me $225 for a half and when COVID hit I kept jacking the price up till he was paying nearly $300 for a fucking half oz and my excuse was just "yeah man shits just getting harder to source" and he had no further questions

[thatguywhofedme]

Influencer to live piggy

I was browsing tumblr, looking through the same pages I followed, wishing the feeder in those stories and images was feeding ME into a food coma

I mean, I'm already gaining steadily by stuffing myself as much as I could, last time I weighed myself I was 225 lbs and that was a year ago

That's when I got the idea, why not make my own blog showing off my body, this will surely get the attention of a feeder who would like to stuff me silly

I instantly created my profile and decided to call myself deathbylard, thought this would be pretty clear as to what my blog would be about

After a couple of months, everything was going well

Everyone was loving my big belly, thickening thighs and fat juicy ass, I was now 274 lbs and was finally getting noticed, that's when he messaged me

His profile name was feedyoutodeath, little did I know it was literal

We began chatting and the more we talked, the more we discovered we had tons in common and when we decided to ask each other where we live, we surprisingly lived close by

We decided to meet at an all-you-can-eat buffet, I was waiting at a table when I heard the door open and recognized him instantly

He got to my table and told me how beautiful I looked and if I was ready to eat

I told him to fill me up while rubbing my belly

He instantly got to the buffet and came back with four plates full of the greasiest food he could find

He sat in front of me and began feeding them to me

There wasn't a lot of people, but the staff had a full view of someone getting fed mouthful after mouthful, getting messier from each bite

After I had miraculously ate everything, I was so full I couldn't get up from the chair and my big belly was in full view, bright red and hard like a bowling ball

He helped me from my chair, but not before whispering in my ear "I hope you enjoyed this little lunch of yours, because there's only going to be even more each time we see each other my little piggy"

I was so fucking turned on

We kept seeing each other at least twice a week if not more and he had me on a strict diet consisting of the most fattening and unhealthy food he could think of

After a year of this, I had BLOWN UP, I was so fat I needed a cane to walk the few hundred meters I could do without sweating and getting out of breath, my belly was going to my knees and my ass needed two chairs to support it

We decided to put me on the new scale he had bought me, it had a capacity of 750 lbs

When I got on the scale, I could hear it creak under my weight and after a moment, it beeped to signal it had finally weighed me

My feeder got under my belly and gasped, I asked him how much and he got behind me while groping my fat ass and whispered "614.57 lbs, you're officially my prized hog and only going to get bigger you massive pig"

He slapped my ass HARD, grabbed me by my hand and got me to the bedroom where I knew I was going to need another shake and a good fucking

During this time, my tumblr had exploded in popularity, I was getting so much attention from my huge body and they simply couldn't get enough of it

Some would even say that they wanted to be my feeder and would make me even bigger, but I knew they were only words and not actually fattening me up, I already found the one to do this perfectly

I told my feeder and decided it was time for him to take care of me and my blog while I relaxed and let myself go completely

I knew I was in good hand, being able to pig out while gaining as much weight as I wanted and getting fucked anywhere at anytime, what's not to love

I moved in with him and was surprised by the setup he had for me, bariatric bed with every life support machines I could need including a heart monitor, a fridge beside my bed, a 5 gallon jug high up from where my head would be and a trough !?!

I knew I was a pig, but that was a whole new level and I was simply loving it !!!

I was getting so turned on, that's when he got in front of me, put a pair of pig ear and a pig nose, he began force feeding me two boxes of donuts and said

"this will be your world from now on, you'll be in this bed or on all four eating like a true pig, only able to eat, get fatter and be my personal at home piggy

I've put cameras in your room for everyone on your blog to enjoy, they'll be able to see what a real fatty looks like and witness your disgusting diet, you'll be the star like you wanted from the start

I will make you the fattest person on earth and will continue making you fatter until that little heart of yours gives out for good, that's the only moment I will allow you not to stuff yourself until you pass out from eating too much

You better be ready because all of this starts right now"

I answer by putting my walker to the side, struggling to get on all fours and oinking like a real pig

He got into the kitchen and came back with a trolley full of my favorites, took all of them and throw them into the trough no matter what it was

"eat" is all he said

I obliged and began to stuff myself while moaning and grunting

He got behind me and forced my head deeper

"I don't want you to only eat at a normal speed, real pigs finish all of this in not time no matter what, so you better eat more before I force this funnel down your throat again"

I gulped and began eating faster, I didn't care if my mouth was full, I needed to eat faster to satisfy my feeder, that's what I was always best at and I wasn't going to disappoint him, not now or ever

Six years have passed and I was now permanently planted on my bed, hooked up on life support, my blood vessels being clogged up even more by each fattening feast that entered my greedy mouth and needing multiple pills for my diabetes, blood pressure and cholesterol medication just for me to be able to live a little longer each day

I was so fat now my ass was almost reaching the side of the massive California king size bariatric bed, I needed a crane fixed to the ceiling to move me so I could be taken care of

my body was now slick and sweaty all the time from the exertion of being in this massive body, my love handles, rolls of fat, underboobs and my swollen fupa were always sweaty from having lbs after lbs of fat creating a crease of unable to support all the humidity my body was creating, my three massive chins were coated with grease and crumbs from the multiple meals and shakes I needed in a day, it was the same story for my massive chest and enormous belly that now reached my toes all made it hard for me to breath, all my fat was ridden in cellulite all over, especially in my massive juicy ass and my belly was also covered in bright red stretch marks showing my feeder's technique of feeding me the trashiest food with no mercy for my weakened body while crushing my organs and I was really struggling to breath now, even my oxygen mask was barely able to feed me air and if I wasn't huffing I was wheezing like a pig while sweating like I had run a marathon

My feeder as kept his words, he made me the fattest person alive and we couldn't be happier about it, last time we checked my weight via the built in scale it said 1658.93 lbs

And just because I weigh this much doesn't mean we don't have sex, on the contrary

With the help from the crane, he would lift me up just enough to go under me and begin fucking my hearts out until I came again and again

He would also let me know how much he love me and my massive body, he would go on top of me while trying is best to avoid my massive swollen fatty liver that has gotten no rest in my years and unrelentless feeding and kiss me all over, sometimes he would concentrate a little more on my thighs, other times it would be my sagging ass, enormous thighs, my belly of course, he couldn't get enough of it and any other parts of my body really, he truly loves all of me

That doesn't stop him from teasing me by saying something like "look at what we did to your body, you surely are the fattest fuck anyone would have ever seen and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it" or "you know you're going to die on this bed and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, all you can do is enjoy yourself while it last until your fat coated heart is tired of supporting your body and you get your fourth and final heart attack" he loved to tease me in the meanest way possible and couldn't simply get enough of it

Although, when I was horribly full, feeling like my stomach would explode at any moment, he would get mad and play with my oxygen tube until I agreed to getting stuffed even more

And if I was being an extra good hog, he would up the pressure on my feeding hose so more and more delicious lard shake would go to my stomach and make me even fatter by the second

Oh speaking of which, my viewers also couldn't get enough of me

I now had millions and millions of followers who would log in just to see myself get pumped even more full of lard and get even fatter by the day

I was able to watch all of this happening on the TV my feeder put in front of me

He wanted me to see all the damage we had done to my body and everytime I looked at myself from the live feed, I still couldn't believe I was this impossibly, enormously fat blob who was only good at swallowing lard shakes and letting it all transform into new fat cells that will make me even bigger and unhealthy than I already was

By the way my heart was slooooowly beating, I knew I wouldn't have long until my body gives up

I had reached pretty much all my goals but don't think for a second I don't have any objectives

I still need to get fatter and keep growing for my feeder

I'm always going to be his personal pig and only live to satisfy his need to force feed me the most unhealthy and greasiest food and shakes imaginable

I'll always want more and more and EVEN FUCKING MORE !!!!

Oink Oink !! 🐷

[coimbrabertone]

The Best F1 Season For A Non-Contender?

Well, the biggest story coming out of the 2024 United States Grand Prix is without a doubt the Verstappen/Norris thing.

To recap, Lando is coming after Max hard, gets run on the backstraight after run on the backstraight, but keeps going to the outside and can't pull the move off.

Finally, on lap 52, Lando has a good enough run that he's ahead, on the outside, but ahead. So what then?

Well, Max Verstappen is on the inside so he just divebombs to get the apex, goes wide, pushes Lando wide with him, and Lando has to pass around the outside in the runoff.

He's finally ahead.

Except no, fuck you, this is F1 and fun isn't allowed.

So the stewards are investigating this move where no contact was made, nobody got hurt, and there was enough runoff all around to land an Antonov AN-225 in.

And Lando gets the penalty. Lando.

Why? Overtaking off track.

Lando is 4.1 seconds ahead at the end of the race, gets dropped behind Max in the standings, everyone on social media is pissed. Some people - who are wrong - think that Max had the right because he was in front at the apex, others think Lando should've just given the position back and retaken it on track, which probably would've been the smart play in retrospect.

It's also kinda the racing equivalent of cuckolding though, isn't it?

Like, are we really watching for someone to have to give up a position to avoid getting a penalty?

"Ah yes sir, you drove me off track like a prick sir, but here's the position sir, have a good one sir."

Ridiculous.

Anyway, I'm sure this is the 97th different place you've heard about this incident, so I'll leave it there. Instead, I'm gonna talk about something overshadowed by all the petty bullshit going on between these two championship contenders.

And that's the fact that Charles Leclerc is quietly putting together a dream season.

First, he wins the Monaco Grand Prix. Winning Monaco is already a feather in the cap for an F1 driver, but it's also his home race, so that might just be one of the most special wins imaginable. Especially when you consider how miserable Charles' luck at Monte Carlo has been before now.

Then, he wins the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari for the second time, no less. He's won his own home race and he's won his team's home race, what more could you ask for in a season?

Well, the first race weekend back from his birthday on October 16th, Leclerc goes and leads home a Ferrari 1-2 at the United States Grand Prix. Now, I'm an American so the USGP is a special event for me - I wrote a blogpost all about its history last week - but I recognize that isn't the case for the Monegasque Leclerc.

Still, a GP win is still an amazing birthday present.

What a way to bounce back considering he was disqualified last year for plank wear as well.

So, that's three wins on the season, each one having something special about it. Does that make it the best season ever for a non-contender?

Well, that's a difficult question.

First things first, what do we consider a contender? In a way, everyone is contending for the championship, so they're all contenders.

Is it a potential shot at the championship then? Eh, probably not, because Leclerc still potentially has a chance at winning the championship.

So how about this: being a contender is having a realistic chance at the championship. So the championship leader and the direct challengers.

This year, I'd argue that's just Max and Lando, since Max has had the best car for years and started the season with easily the best car, while Lando has benefited from a recent surge by McLaren.

For another example, in 2007, I'd argue that Raikkonen, Alonso, and Hamilton were all contenders, but Massa was not.

So how about Massa's three-win season that year?

Well, he won Bahrain, Spain, and Turkey.

Two places without much connection to him, and then a track he already won at the year before.

In that respect, I'd argue 2006 was a more meaningful season for Massa. His first year in a Ferrari, he's far off Alonso and Schumacher, but he takes his first win at Turkey and then gets to win his home race at Brazil, solidifying his position as best of the rest.

Button 2010?

Eh, he's the reigning champion going into a good team like McLaren and ends up dropping away from the championship pack after Korea, and only takes two wins to his name: Australia and China.

I can't think of a reason those races would be special for him.

What about Button in 2011? Is he a contender that year? That's actually hard for me to say. He's second, he was painted as the challenger to Vettel, but he finished more than a hundred points off. Is that much of a rivalry?

Then again, can we really say 2011 only had one contender?

I'm not sure.

Canada, Hungary, and Suzuka are a decent set of tracks if you're gonna take three wins in a season, especially given how Canada went down, with it being Jenson's career drive.

That one could count then, I reckon.

How about further back in history?

What about 1966, when Ludovico Scarfiotti did literally two races - Germany and Italy - and won the latter. An Italian winning the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari has got to be special, right? Especially when you consider that this is the last time an Italian won the Italian Grand Prix. Not just in a Ferrari, but at all.

I suppose it's also as close as F1 has ever gotten to that 2006 Valencia Grand Prix in MotoGP where Troy Bayliss returned to MotoGP, filling in for the injured Sete Gibernau at one race at Ducati.

A race with Bayliss proceeded to win.

Troy hadn't won any races in full seasons with Ducati in 2003 and 2004, nor in his partial campaign with Camel Honda in 2005, but he comes back in 2006 as a replacement rider for one race and goes on to win that thing.

It's a wonderful racing moment, and Scarfiotti at Monza in 1966 is probably as close as F1 ever got to that.

Oh here's one.

Jody Scheckter in 1976. The whole world is watching Hunt vs. Lauda, McLaren vs. Ferrari, and here's Jody Scheckter in a six-wheeled Tyrrell casually winning the Swedish Grand Prix, taking four second places, and ending the season as best of the rest.

The Swedish Grand Prix was a great race for these one-off weird winners actually. Scheckter in the Tyrrell P34 in 1976, Jacques Laffite in the Matra V12 powered Ligier in 1977, and of course 1979 with Niki Lauda winning in the fan car.

Ooh, speaking of 1977, I think we have a contender!

...A contender for non-contenders? Yes actually.

Mario Andretti in 1977. He's got the Lotus 78, the first ground effect car in Formula One history, and it's not quite ready to win the championship, but it's still going on a tear.

Winning the USGP West at Long Beach, a home race for Andretti. Then winning at Spain and France, and finally winning the Italian Grand Prix, the other race Mario could call home. That sounds like an awful good season to me, potentially even better than Leclerc this year. He also finished third that year, so it lines up there as well.

How about this? We'll see if Leclerc can win another race or two this year, and if not, then I'll give it to Andretti. 1977, the best championship season for a non-contender.

Feel free to leave any notable seasons I missed in the comments below, I'm eager to hear what seasons y'all can come up with.

P.S

In other news this weekend, we had the Australian Grand Prix in MotoGP. Jorge Martin won the sprint and Marc Marquez the main race. The sprint was pretty uneventful save for a few scary crashes right at the end - particularly Bezzecchi and Vinales in turn one, with both riders thankfully walking away okay - while the race saw a pretty dramatic battle between Martin and Marquez at the end.

I don't exactly cheer for either guy, so it was a bit meh for me, but at least Phillip Island put on a good race.

As for NASCAR...quite frankly I didn't watch this weekend. I was watching F1 and after that I had a headache and I was mad about the Max/Lando stuff, so I just didn't want to bother with it. I hear Logano won though, which means he goes on to the championship four. Cue up the even year memes.

Even Penske tweeted a joke about that.

Penske tweeting jokes. Heh, that's a new one.

[mostlymarvelgirl]

"Ouch! What The Fuck Woma-?!" *Slap*

(Soldier Boy X Reader)

Warning: High & Inappropriate Use Of Profanity, Racism, Sexism, Homophobism.

Total Words: 225 (ik it's very very short)

Read At Your Risk. I Am Not Responsible For Your Media Consumption.

A/N: Ignore my bad writing. I had to write smth in 10 minutes. Otherwise, I would've had a breakdown.

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Everything was fucking weird to him. He couldn't digest the fact that men were dating men. What a fucking fucked up pussy excuses of men. He looked over at you handling some stupid plastic remote.

"What the fuck are you doing? You a lesbo too?", he asked you annoyed. Fucking women these days were also some cunt feminism movement shit.

You rolled your eyes.

"Fuck you", you answered back casually since you were annoyed by his constant bantering of how everything was fucked up these days.

"Oh I will sweetheart.", Ben winked at you not bothered at all.

"Just spread those pretty legs and I'll show you a got ti-", Ben got cut off with hard smack on his face.

"Ouch! What the fuck woma-?!" *slap*, another slap was followed till he stood up and backed away.

"One more word comes out of your fucking filthy dirty mouth and I'll fucking send you back another forty years. Understood?", you asked with anger seething through your voice but it did work on him and deflated his ego. He sat down quietly and continued watching TV.

Just the next second, Butcher walked in and found Ben quietly sitting and watching TV. Ben didn't even demand much the whole day. Butcher looked at you. Whatever you did and knowing you, he knew it was something pretty fucking diabolical.

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●☆● Fuck-ing-ed: Used 10 times ●☆●

[spinedog]

Please talk about birds and why their existence is horrifying!

For dabble prompt, Yang and Weiss making macaroni, as inspired by the recent Instagram where Barbara and Kara made macaroni.

You can request a ramble and drabble here, and see prompts I've finished and am currently working on!

Ramble - I have a lot of Emotions about birds and their relationship to mammals.

Drabble - The college AU returns: guess who has no fucking idea how to make macaroni, and who else finally got fed up with it.

Birds. Birds my beloved, birds my beloathed.

Here's the thing. Every time I research birds, for any reason, I learn something new and horrifying. I could fill a post the length of Do You Like The Color Of The Sky with the shit I know and fear about birds. Rather than go into a specific reason, let me explain the underlying reason why I find them both fascinating and disturbing.

Birds are endotherms (warmblooded), like us. They have a four-chambered heart, like us. They have complex social behaviours across multiple unrelated genera, like mammals. Many unrelated bird species use tools and can solve human puzzles. While not shared with us, birds also have paired larynx structures that let them make insanely complex noises. Between the intelligence and this ability, many species are capable of mimicking human speech - and at least one species has both scientific and anecdotal evidence of being able to use human speech to communicate. (The only mammal proven to be able to mimic verbal speech is a goddamn Grey Seal btw)

All of this is lovely until you take a step back and realize our ancestors diverged 300 million years ago. Our shared ancestral traits are a handful of internal changes, the loss of gills, keratinized skin, and fucking chest breathing. That is how goddamn little we have in common with birds ancestrally. To be clear, the first true mammal came along closer to 225 mya - but we are the only living group left from the synapsids, then therapsids, that grew Better Teeth and split off. In comparison, birds and crocodiles are the only living members from archosauria, and the arrival of birds themselves is still under a lot of debate but was probably around 150 mya.

This is the part that I find so fascinating. Go all the way back to that paragraph with all the things we share with birds. Both mammals and birds evolved all of those traits separately. And yet, despite being so far away that we may as well be alien, we've ended up on a parallel course to each other. Almost every part of our body, right down to the brain, works in a completely different way and yet the outcome is spookily similar. We can reason. We can problem-solve.

We've gotten to the point that a well-educated human and a well-educated grey parrot have stood eye to eye with each other and had a true, verbal, two-way conversation.

Seriously. Think about that. That's something we had to use sign language to do with our closest living relatives, and talking buttons to do with our longest-running domesticated companion species - and both happened in the last few decades. The first account of a 'talking parrot' was in 5th century BC.

I think that's a significant connection, on the grand cosmic scale of time and evolution. Sister groups not in blood but in destination, driven by curiosity and a miraculous set of coincidences, reach out and speak to each other in a language both are able to understand.

And I didn't even touch the fact that birds and mammals are the only two living vertebrates that developed fucking flight.

---

"I wouldn't use this in a hot pan, it's plastic."

"Oh." A pause. "Right."

Yang's voice coming from the kitchen wasn't new, but Weiss' certainly was. Blake poked out from her room, curious enough about the potential of dying in a house fire to emerge from midterm studying.

Immediately she saw Ruby, pressed up against the wall to stare down the stairs. The younger woman turned, catching sight of Blake and pressing a finger to her lips before motioning her forwards, kneeling to clear room for her. Blake slowly crept up, leaning over Ruby as they both peered around the corner.

Down the stairs, the small, messy kitchen was visible. Weiss Schnee hovered over the stove, hair pulled up in a ponytail and eyes wide with uncharacteristic worry. "Okay, I think it's all combined."

"Good, now you can pour the milk in." Yang appeared from behind the wall in their view, where she must have been standing by the fridge. "Don't do it all at once, pour in about... here. That much. Whisk it together until there's no clumps and then add the rest."

Blake turned her gaze downwards, bewildered.

"Weiss admitted she doesn't know how to cook mac and cheese." Ruby whispered. "Yang couldn't let that one go."

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. It was probably bound to happen. Weiss hadn't had to cook for herself a day in her life, and Yang had probably been cooking for herself and Ruby since she could reach the stove. Sooner or later, there would have to be a collision. Of course, she had to feel a bit bad that no one had ever taken the time to teach Weiss any of it. But any guilt she felt was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer surrealism of the scene unfolding in the kitchen. Weiss had merely brushed off all points at her complete lack of housekeeping and cooking. And now here she was, taking lessons from the person who gave her the most shit for it.

"This all seems complicated?" The trademark Weiss sass wasn't gone entirely, even with her being miles out of her element. "Isn't mac and cheese supposed to be a really simple thing that kids can make?"

"That's Kraft dinner. This isn't much harder to make and tastes way better, so we're starting with it. Relax, ice queen, it's hard to screw it up completely."

Weiss heaved a frustrated sigh, whether it was at the nickname or the recipe wasn't clear. "Is the pasta in yet?"

"Nope, water still isn't boiling." Yang had leaned against the cupboards, clearly amused.

"They always say, to uh." Weiss looked up, blinking. "A watched- when you look- when you watch the bowl of- it never boils." She looked over, as if hoping Yang might have understood the verbal equivalent of an orchestra falling down the stairs.

Yang nodded sagely. "Exactly."

Blake pulled herself away from the corner, barely choking back laughter. Ruby's breathing devolved into chaotic inhales.

"Seriously, what is the saying?! Something about pots? And watching it?"

"No, no you nailed it. A watched when you look when you watch-"

"Yang Xiao Long I will beat you with this spatula I swear to God."

She could hear the grin in Yang's voice. "You and what ladder?"

That was the final straw for both Blake and Ruby. Ruby broke first, the laugh escaping like a water from a high pressure hose. Within moments both of them were in hysterics, Ruby on the floor and Blake leaning against the wall, fighting for air.

"Well." Blake managed to look over, and found Weiss glaring at them both from the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips. "If you two are going to have input, you may as well get downstairs and help cook."

It was a fair enough point, and the two women managed to pull themselves down the stairs and into the kitchen, still wiping tears away. Yang watched them sit down at the table, clearly fighting back a laugh of her own.

Weiss re-entered the kitchen, frowning down at the water in the pot. A split second of quiet.

Blake wasn't much of a comedian - but she knew when the timing was right. "A watched pot never boils, Weiss."

Yang broke like china, falling against the fridge with a howl of laughter. A spatula bounced off the center of Blake's forehead, and it was worth every second.

[burningcrab]

how im imagining ᵐʸ drifter's relationships with the hex. obvy subject to change once the expansion drops and we get to know them better

arthur: you know the sibling thing where you go open your sibling's door and talk to them about stupid shit and then flip them off or something and walk away without closing the door. she does that when he's in the security office. beyond that i don't think they have much of a personal relationship. years of fighting solo in duviri means she struggles with having a commander so she probably gives him heartburn when she fucks off to do her own thing in the field

aoi: they should be at the club. specifically drifter should be at the club learning how to stop fumbling women. aoi gets them shots because drifter says she doesnt get drunk. sadly drifter has only been drinking weird duviri beer as imagined by a teenager for most of her life so the first time she gets drunk off tequila and fireball and shit she freaks out and thinks shes actually dying and turns invisible in the bathroom. aoi drags her back out to dance and then they have a homoerotic midnight atomicycle ride back to base

lettie: seething because learning vazarin healing backfired and now her stupid void body won't let her manufacture "accidental" injuries. she can't even get a paper cut and ask lettie to kiss it better because she heals too fast. drifter is down horrendous for lettie but between immunity to mild injuries and a fear of rodents its just a disaster. meanwhile lettie likes drifter more than any of the rest of the team because at least drifter's dumbass attempts to play hero on missions don't require intensive care afterwards like arthur's "Tank Incident"

amir: listens and nods while amir explains the gameplay of caliber chicks 2 at 225 wpm for six minutes. tries playing with him but doesn't get the appeal so she just sits around while he plays and offers unhelpful and irrelevant advice whenever he dies. like "you should try parrying" when he loses tetris or "do a bullet jump" in a racing game. she also steals his energy drinks, which is probably good for amir but definitely bad for everyone else who has to deal with hopped-up drifter

quincy: drifter works best with him in the field out of all the hex members. he says it's because she's really good at being annoying and distracting and getting in the enemy's face with a shotgun so he can line up his shots. she says this is true, and thank you very much quincy thats sweet of you. drifter loves to be annoying and quincy is the only one smart enough to weaponize that. drifter is also permanently banned from shooting contests with quincy after she blew a hole in the wall with a plasma shotgun instead of using a normal gun for target practice

eleanor: oscillates between wanting to help eleanor and getting annoyed with her cryptic bullshit. also oscillates between thinking the mind control/telepathy thing is completely terrifying and thinking its awesome (and kind of hot). absolutely cannot stop asking eleanor weird questions and will keep it up until she gets the psychic equivalent of a sucker punch and her nose starts bleeding (which heals before she can get to lettie). sometimes she tells eleanor stories about the lotus.

[visforvengeance]

944 miles

Requested by: no one<3

Notes: Hi! So sorry I took so long to post this lmao. Um this will be a series. I haven't worked out how many chapters there will be but I do know how I want at least the next two chapters to be. If you've seen my last post where I posted a snippet of it, then you know I had an OC named Rue Winston. That will be changed and the only thing that will remain is the last name and no character description will be involved but do know I had black!reader in mind. Thanks for reading <3

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. i think that's it. it's only the first chapter so nothing too crazy going on.

masterpost

Fatima rushed to the Berzatto Family Salon door with her young daughter by her side. Fatima wouldn’t have been late if it weren’t for her babysitter canceling at the last minute. The poor child was just too young to care for herself. 

As Fatima frantically searched around the building for Donna, her hairstylist, Y/N sat idly by. She played with the toys her mother had gotten her for her 5th birthday, which was just a few months before. When Fatima’s eyes landed on Donna’s, they reflected a range of emotions. 

Donna felt bad for the young mother, having three kids of her own, she knew what Fatima was suffering. Donna’s eyes traveled to the playing toddler on her floor, not a care for the outside world. She reminded her of her own child, Carmen, the youngest. 

“Donna! I’m so sorry I’m late. My babysitter bailed last minute and I had no one else to watch her,” Fatima was on the verge of tears. This wasn’t the future she imagined when she found out she was with child. 

Her husband, Ezra, had walked out on his family when their daughter was 2 years old. He had claimed he never wanted a child in the first place. 

“Ok ok ok, Hun. Just take a deep breath, it’s fine. I have a son who’s around the same age as her. He’s here with me today, they could play together!”

She rushed through the door, ignoring everyone except for Carmen. He sat on his bed watching his best friend bounce around in his bedroom. 

“It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!” She squealed while clutching the unopened envelope to her chest. 

Carmen was dreading the day when they received their acceptance letters. He hadn’t told her that his college of choice was in New York. He knew that she’d d be attending college in Chicago, but fucking Carmen. He always had to strive for the best. 

He felt like shit, but the pure excitement on her face was infectious. He couldn’t help his smile as they switched envelopes, now holding each other’s futures in their hands. 

“I’ll go first, you ready?” He watched as she bit at her nails anxiously, she nodded. 

Carmen opened the letter, he spared one glance at her before he began reading. 

“Dear Ms. Winston, I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as an official student of the English Literature and Arts Department…” Rue’s hearing had faded as she allowed the words to process. 

When it finally hit her, she rushed into Carmen’s arms. Her tears soaked into the cotton of his shirt but he didn’t let that deter him from telling her just how proud he was of her. When they pulled away, he held her face in his hands as she took deep breaths to calm herself down. He looked into her eyes, silently asking if she was okay. She nodded, looking back into his blue ones. 

Y/N carefully tore into the letter, her eyes scanning over the paper. The Institute of Culinary Education, 225 Liberty Street, 3rd Floor, New York, NY 10281. New York? No, this can’t be. He’d tell her if he was going to New York, right?

She cleared her throat and began reading, “Dear Mr. Berzatto, we are very pleased to offer you admission into The Institute of Culinary Arts.” Her throat ran dry as she read. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied for New York?”

“You’re the one who told me not to tell you,” he huffed, suddenly feeling defensive at his lack of mentioning. 

“It’s fucking New York, Carmen! I meant don’t fucking tell me if it was in the goddamn state. I thought that was obvious. Why there, anyway?”

He felt strings tugging at his heart as her voice cracked. Why did he choose New York? A 944-mile drive away from his home? His family? From the girl he loved? When making his decision, She was the last thing on his mind at the time. Mikey not allowing him to work at the family restaurant fucked with Carmen’s nerves. 

Lack of communication led to him believing that his brother thought he wasn’t good enough. So, Carmen figured “Maybe if I go to this prestigious school and become the world’s greatest chef, he’ll think I’m good enough then.” 15-year-old Carmen had made up his mind, everything else be damned. But, nothing would prepare him for the moment it came time to tell his best friend that he was leaving her. 

“It’s the best culinary school in the state,” her eyes began to water. She felt fucking elated that Carmen was getting into the school of his dreams, but it being 14 hours away was breaking her heart. She didn’t want to make him feel bad or ruin this moment, but the way she could feel herself start to sweat was overwhelming. 

She decided to drop it. She didn’t want Carmen to feel bad about his decision. Willing her tears to dry, she quickly smiled. “I’m so proud of you,” She was genuinely so proud of Carmen. She wanted nothing more than for him to succeed. If his succeeding meant she had to cheer him on from Chicago, she’d do it proudly. 

Carmen could feel the sadness radiating off of her. He knew what she was doing. The switch from being on the verge of tears to smiling brightly was a reaction he’d seen far more than he liked. Being the reason wasn’t something he liked too much, either. But, when she said that she was proud of him, he believed her. He always believed her. 

The last few days of school had been so tiring with graduation and Carmen leaving for NYC soon. She and Carmen spent as much time with each other as they could. Fatima worked a lot and Donna always had something that needed her attention. Everyone was busy. Summertime was approaching which meant Mikey had to prepare. He’s still not letting Carmen help, though. 

She sighed as she felt her back hit the mattress beneath her. She hadn’t had time to relax and take a deep breath until now. She was home alone, with no plans and a severe and excruciating lack of Carmen. She saw less of him after the pair read their acceptance letters together. She didn’t know whether it was because of the news he shared or he was just extremely busy. 

Regardless of whether they were fighting or not, Carmen never avoided her. There was no reason for him to be mad at her and she wasn’t particularly mad at him, but there was a dark cloud that hung over them. An unwavering force that bullied its way between them, you could practically see it. 

She wanted to be happy for him, but the negative feelings always crawled their way back up. Was she overreacting? This wasn’t the end of them. They could always call, visit each other, or text. It wasn’t like he was moving to another country. 

He was leaving her today. She began to panic at the thought but forced herself through it. She gathered all of the items she wanted to give to him before he left. His favorite shirt that he’s always searching for (she stole it), the matching bracelet that he’d leave on her dresser so he wouldn’t lose it, and a painting that she made for them. The painting was of them together. She spent the entire school year working on it, she made it for him after he practically begged her to do a painting for him. 

After she was done, she made her way next door. The constant ruckus could be heard outside of the door. Donna is yelling for Mikey to help his brother, Sugar and Richie are fighting over god knows what. She pushed herself through the door. It was warm inside, and it smelled like apple pie and cinnamon. It always smelled like something delicious at the Berzatto house. 

Donna noticed her first, rushing to her while calling for Mikey to come and grab the (not heavy) box from her. Donna pulled the younger girl into her warm embrace, bombarding her with questions as she always did. It never bothered her as she knew what Donna was like and loved her dearly. Donna always treated her as if she was her child, she’d look after her when Fatima was busy with work. She’d invite her on family trips, she was an unofficial family member like Richie. 

“How are you, sweetheart? You hungry? We made a little something for Bear before it’s time for him to go,” Donna held her face in her hands as she spoke. Her heart warmed at Donna’s actions. Despite her doing things like this since the moment they met, it always made her smile. She politely declined, though. She wanted to be alone with Carmen for a while. 

“I’m not hungry at the moment, Mama D, but I promise I’ll eat before I go,” Donna nodded and gave her cheeks a small pat. They spoke a little bit more before Donna left her to continue doing what she was doing. She had a habit of minimizing her emotions when something big happened. She kept a straight as she walked up the stairs to Carmen’s room, but her mind was racing. She didn’t want to think about the bad things that could happen while she and Carmen were apart. 

She pushed the door open, standing in the doorway as she watched the two brothers talk. “Dude, you’re doing it the wrong way-“

“I think I know how to properly tape up a box, Carmen.”

“You’re literally doing it wrong.”

She couldn't hold in her laughter as they bickered back and forth. Their heads snapped toward her, startled by her presence. “Jesus, fuck, bunny. You scared the shit out of me!” Mikey set down the box he was holding to rush over and hug her. She hugged him back, squeezing him a bit as she did so. “Sorry, Mikey. I wanted to see who’d get hit first,” Mikey chuckled. 

She and Mikey had a special kind of bond. She had a unique bond with each Berzatto child. But, the two of them were like siblings. Mikey was like the big brother she never had, always to her rescue if needed. When Carmen couldn’t be bothered, she had Mikey and Sugar. 

Before he could respond, Carmen cleared his throat. Mikey looked between the two, gears turning in his head. You see, Michael knew of his feelings for the girl. He was constantly trying to get Carmen to step up and admit his feelings for the girl but Carmy was always too nervous to do so, afraid he’d lose her. He couldn’t risk that. 

Mikey nodded, raising his arms in defense and he backed off, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She sat on Carmen’s bed, looking around his room. It looked nearly empty, aside from the furniture. “Did you get a chance to look at the things I brought?” Carmen looked over everything except for the painting. He’d seen her art before, he knew how talented she was. But he feared that if he looked at it now, his heart would break all over again. 

“Yeah, everything except for the painting.” She felt her body twitch as their eyes locked. His expression was unreadable as she wondered why he hadn’t taken a glance. “Promise you’ll take a peek when you get to your dorm?” She thought she sounded fucking pathetic. ‘Please look at this painting that means so fucking much to me, it’s the least you could do.’ She wanted to throw up. 

In reality, Carmen didn’t want to look. Not because he feared he’d hate it, but because then he’d be forced back to reality. The reality that he’s in love with his best friend whom he’s about to leave for four fucking years. The reality is that he’s loved her since middle school and now it’s too late because he’s a coward. “Promise.”

She and Carmen had spent their last few hours together in his bed. The sun had fallen, and everything was packed up and ready to go. Carmen said his goodbyes to everyone, except her. She lingered somewhere nearby, watching as he hugged and kissed his family. They were both trying to prolong their last few moments together. “I’m gonna miss you,” she could hardly speak. God, did she not want to cry right now. 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Carmen’s facade was starting to crack. He allowed it to, he only allowed himself to feel in front of her. “And don’t forget about me, either.” Her tears were streaming down her face, heavy drops landing on her shirt. Carmen couldn’t handle it anymore as he pulled her into a tight hug. Their tears soaked into the other’s shirt as they cried together. They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Mikey called for Carmen. She watched as her best friend drove away. She’d never believe you if you told her that she wouldn’t hear from him for 2 years.

[octuscle]

Hey, i’m 20 year old and i’m completly jacked because at a young age, i started going to the gym (I’m 225 lbs). My neighbour is a 50 year old man, and he is really fat. Secretly Recently, saw him, and he lost some weight, and i, on the other hand, gained a little bit because of college, and he said to me “are you trying to catch up my belly?”. That was the momment i thought i want him to get jacked and for me to get fat, and i want him to tease me about it. So i want you to create a story around it, me getting progressivly fatter and getting tease and humilliated by him, amd him getting skinnier and eventually more jacked than i am.

Shit! If I looked like you, I'd be jerking off in front of the mirror all day. And you want what? To get fat? I mean, just a few days ago you were a model athlete. And you could have easily worked off those few grams on your hips. Or I could have helped you with that. But if you want it differently… What a shame!

You start to spend your evenings in front of the TV and no longer in the gym. You switch your diet to fast food and sugary drinks. And lots of beer! You love beer. Your personal hygiene also suffers. Sure, shaving your chiseled pecs was more fun than your flabby man boobs. Your skin is getting paler and paler from sitting around. At some point, your friends stop asking what's wrong with you. Who needs friends. You'll find your friends online while playing games. .

With my help, you won't need so long for your body to change according to your absurd wishes. After just one week you won't be able to zip your pants. People don't say hello to you on the street because they no longer recognize you with your soft, spongy features. And you start to curse your apartment on the third floor. When you finally get to the top of the stairs, your lungs rattle like an old alarm clock and you gasp for air, drenched in sweat.

It takes just two weeks before you're lying on the couch at your GP's. He says that he has been telling you for years that you are killing yourself in installments with too much fat and too little sports. You're about to lash out and say that until recently you were still very sporty. But your memories are suddenly different. You remember being humiliated in gym class. You remember how you never found a dance partner at the prom. About how you secretly jerked off when you heard your neighbor come home. Shit, that guy is fit as fuck.

Your GP has ordered you to exercise regularly! At least once a week for a swim. You hate sport. And swimming even more so. Getting in and out of the pool is like running the gauntlet for you. The worst thing is the shower after swimming, when your cock almost disappears under your belly.

You've just stowed everything away in your locker and are on your way to the pool. And then your pathetic little cock gets as hard as nothing else on your body. Because suddenly your neighbor is standing in your way

He kneads his bulge in his speedos. He says he's happy to see you here. You reply with a dry throat and a cracked voice that you're happy too. He says that he hopes you don't overdo it with the sport. You look good. He pats your belly. You're about to cum into your swimming trunks. Suddenly footsteps from behind. Two young, well-built swimmers come into the changing area. "Get out of the way, fatso," your neighbor grumbles at you. "And come to my house after swimming," he adds in a whisper. And exchanges fistbumps with the two athletes.

You whisper "See you soon, Daddy" so that nobody can hear. But now you have to wank first. In ordner not to cum in the pool.

[the-invisibility-bloke]

you trick and treat? Great... *makes woohooo ghostly noises*

Oh hi! I wanted to write you something cool, but all that came to me was fluff...

-

harry x draco | 225 words

-

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy asks at the start of their first duel.

"You wish," Harry spits back with a lick of fire, just enough to burn. Not enough to melt those ice-grey eyes that haunt him in the dark.

-

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy asks when the war is over and they’re standing in front of the castle gates on their final First of September.

“Not really.” Harry tries to flatten his hair. “Bloody relieved, aren’t you?”

That’s when Malfoy smiles at him for the first time in seven years.

-

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy asks on their first DMLE assignment, frozen half-solid and crouched in a shack at the edge of the last surviving Death Eater stronghold, buried in six feet of snow.

“No.” The confession is visible, a wisp of breath that steams from his lips, weaving into Malfoy’s. “I’m not scared. I’m with you.”

-

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy asks when he leans in, fucking finally, close enough that ice-grey eyes melt to a summer-dawn blur. The tart, earthy Pinot clings to his tongue, ripe blackberry and spice.

Harry grins. “Scared you’re too gutless to do it.”

Malfoy rolls his eyes, curls a hand around the back of his neck, and slams their mouths together.

-

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy smirks at Harry across the altar.

Harry smiles and takes his hand, slides the ring onto his finger. “You wish.”

[simply-ellas-stuff]

I was looking for something completely different in Catelyn's chapters when I came across this bit from Renly Baratheon,

" Renly shrugged. "Tell me, what right did my brother Robert ever have to the Iron Throne?" He did not wait for an answer. "Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it. Robert won the throne with his warhammer." He swept a hand across the campfires that burned from horizon to horizon. "

Now... that's annoying. A little. "A hundred years past"????? Really Renly? Did your maesters teach you nothing?

Princess Rhaelle Targaryen - Married Ormund Baratheon. She is Renly's grandmother.

Princess Rhaelle, daugher of Aegon V and Betha Blackwood, born 229–234 AC, married Lord Ormund Baratheon, b.  234 AC, and birthed Steffon Baratheon, b. 246 AC . Steffon married Cassana Estermont, b. ~225–250 AC, and had Robert (b. 262 AC), Stannis (b. 264 AC), and Renly (b. 277 AC).

So that alone gives Robert, Stannis, and Renly a decent claim to the throne through Targaryen blood alone. Then you also have;

Orys Baratheon - Half brother of Aegon the Conqueror, Son of Aerion Targaryen. He is the literal founder of the House. (I'll grant this is 'supposed' but Fire and Blood treats it like it's straight up fact, so I will too)

Orys I get. He's three hundred years in the past. but Rhaelle? Grandma? Grams? Grammy? Your Lady Grandmother? BITCH! From 229 to 277 is literally only 48 years. Forty-Eight.

Rhaelle married the ONLY son and HEIR of House Baratheon, was not the Eldest daughter, and was not 'hundred years past.

Yeah, sure only maesters care about the legitimacy of yours and your brothers claim to the throne because Robert did win his crown by way of war. But, what. the. fuck. Renly? Why diss your own grandmother?

[sineala]

More canon about Tony Stark's secret identity

So I looked this up because @kiyaar asked me it the other day and I knew vaguely where the answer was and that it was in comics I hadn't read, so I read them and I'm presenting my book report to the rest of you, for reference.

The question is: Tony comes out publicly as Iron Man in mid-v3. He also does this a couple years later during Civil War. How did the public stop believing in him as Iron Man in the intervening time?

The basic facts about 616's Tony's secret identity as we all generally know them in fandom:

Tony becomes Iron Man (ToS #39) and promptly decides to keep this a secret. His friends and occasionally enemies find this out, a few people at a time, over the years. There's a span of time shortly after Armor Wars (IM v1 #225-232) in which he fakes his death, but only as Iron Man -- he pretends that the original Iron Man has died and that the guy in the suit now is not the original. This means that he is lying to his friends' faces about being Iron Man, but for the most part he's not fooling anyone at all and all his friends are pretty damn sure Iron Man is still him. There are multiple panels of Steve being like "Tony, I know that's you." (After that, Tony fakes his own death as Tony, eventually coming back publicly in IM v1 #292.)

There are some more secret identity shenanigans in the late 90s (by which I mean the Cap/IM 1998 Annual) -- mindwipes are involved -- but the first big public move is in IM v3 #55. He gives up his secret identity because he wants to go save a puppy. You all know this. Probably.

He also gives up his secret identity a couple years later, in Civil War: Front Line #1, because he's supporting Registration and he wants to put his money where his mouth is.

So the question is, what the hell happened in the middle? He's pretty clearly publicly Iron Man for the latter half of v3 -- did people just forget that? How in the world did they buy that he wasn't Iron Man?

The answer is that this is a Disassembled thing. Specifically, it's in the Iron Man tie-ins to Avengers Disassembled, which I had never read because the only thing I knew about them was that this was the arc that Rumiko died in, and I didn't want to be sad. But it turns out this is also where Tony gets people to stop believing that he is Iron Man. This is Iron Man v3 #85-89.

So Disassembled kicks off in Avengers #500 with the mansion exploding and Scott Lang dying. Tony, who is at this time Secretary of Defense, is addressing the UN when he suddenly feels like he's drunk and starts insulting and threatening the UN representative from Latveria. This, along with many other terrible things, is Wanda's fault; she does this to him with magic. He doesn't know that, though, and the public, of course, thinks he's drinking again. Several of his friends (not Steve) actually think he's drinking again.

The IM tie-ins start with IM v3 #85 after the UN thing has happened, and it turns out that Tony's life is even worse. At this point, he's already facing a lot of public disapproval about the UN thing. Someone steals a suit of his armor and, in #86, murders the Stark Enterprises board of directors. Given that everyone knows that Tony is Iron Man, that Tony has just been drunk and belligerent at the UN, and that the board's shares in SE revert to Tony, everyone now thinks he is guilty of murdering the entire board. There are crowds of angry people with signs, at his house, protesting… him, I guess. The UN/SecDef thing, and the murder thing, I guess.

Tony, at this point, has now shut himself up in his house and is trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him. He doesn't actually know who has his armor and is attempting to frame him for this, or why they're doing it, but this isn't his main concern at this point. His main concern is the incident at the UN, because at this point he has no idea that Wanda is responsible for doing this to him, so he keeps doing things like scanning himself because he thinks something must have gone wrong with his brain.

This is when Ru shows up at Tony's house, in IM v3 #87. Ru and Tony have been off-and-on, and are currently off, and Ru would like to get back together with him. So she goes in, looking for Tony, and is immediately shot by the guy who has stolen the Iron Man armor, who is also there in Tony's house now. Tony walks in just in time for Ru to die in his arms; she very possibly dies believing that Tony was the one who shot her, since as far as she knows, it was Iron Man.

Then we get one of the key parts enabling Tony's new identity shenanigans. The guy in his armor is still in his house, and in #88, the guy starts fighting Tony. What happens is that he pushes Tony through a window into the swimming pool below. Since Tony's house is surrounded by a mob of angry protesters, he's pretty newsworthy right now, and a news helicopter is passing overhead at the exact moment in time. So now the entire world has footage of Tony fighting a man in an Iron Man suit, who therefore cannot possibly be Tony.

So because of this, Tony is basically exonerated for the murder of the SE board, because obviously it was this evil guy who stole the suit who did all the murders, which is in fact true. So this also plants the idea in everyone's mind -- and certainly in Tony's mind -- that Tony and Iron Man could, theoretically, be separate people. They obviously don't have to be, but it's clearly possible that someone else might become Iron Man.

At the end of #89, Tony gives a big speech to the media. He says he's apologized to Latveria and he's resigning his post as Secretary of Defense. He also says that he's resigning as Iron Man. He says he's just going to be Tony Stark, but "there will always be an Iron Man."

So the story is that Tony was Iron Man. He used to be Iron Man. He admits that. That's a thing people know about him -- no one's been mindwiped of that information or anything this time. But he also swears he's not Iron Man now; he swears that Iron Man is someone else. So if anyone sees Iron Man from here on out, that won't be him. That'll be someone else.

I mean, yeah, he is completely lying when he says that, as we know.

This is a lot like the thing he tried to pull on the superhero community after Armor Wars, but apparently the public believes him this time, unlike how his friends did not. By the time we get to Avengers Finale, which is the last issue of Disassembled, all his fellow heroes clearly know he's still Iron Man -- he's hanging around in the armor without a mask, around the Avengers -- but, as he tells them, he clearly thinks the public is buying this.

And they apparently are buying this, to the point that it's news to everyone when he says he's Iron Man again in CW Front Line #1.

So, yeah, that's how this goes.

Unrelatedly, from #87, here's a panel for your collection of panels about how Tony is really kind of queer.

If Ru thought Tony wasn't ever going to date a man, that would have been a great time for her to say something in reply. I'm just saying.

[doodlemcnoodlee]

I read a story awhile ago and I can’t stop thinking of a concept they added where every planet’s birthday is after they completely a full orbit.

But like…

WOULD THAT MEAN NEPTUNE IS A FUCKING BABY COMPARED TO THE OTHERS??

His orbit is 165 years vs Mercury who’s is just 88 days! And if he orbits the suns 4.15 times in one year he would be at lest 684.75 years old when Neptune finally completes an orbit.

Not only that the Sun apparently takes 225 million years to orbit the Milky Way, meaning his has only made 20.44 orbits during the entire existence of our solar system! At lest Neptune would have done 27.9 millions trips around the sun!

According to Google every planet would be

Mercury- 18.7 billion

Venus- 7.3 billion

Earth- 4.5 billion

Mars- 2.4 billion

Jupiter- 380 million

Saturn- 153 million

Uranus- 53.3 million

Neptune- 27.3 million

All while Sun is FUCKING 20 YEARS OLD!

Anyways thanks for reading my tried ramblings, always on a very weird and different topic every time!

Also this is not me criticizing the author, I just couldn’t stop thinking about and found it interesting :)

Math could also be very wrong not smart enough to make sense of big numbers haha