#And now consumers know that it was a bad deal and aren't falling for the scam anymore.

[ffcrazy15]

Adam Conover did a good video on this recently. The whole thing is beginning to look a lot like a "line must go up" housing-crash bubble. Worthless things being hyped up and sold as valuable things doesn't actually make them valuable, and sooner or later people figure that out and the value plummets back to its actual worth.

Thankfully they think it won't tank as much of the country as the 2008 housing bubble did because it's not so integrated into our economy, but still. Tech-hype growth has been an unsustainable investor-fed ponzi scheme all along. There is no such thing as permanent exponential growth. It doesn't exist. And unless they invent the damn holodeck in the next year or two, it's going to become clear that they've got nothing consumers would want, their whole house of cards is going to fall a part, and a shitton of ordinary people in Silicon Valley are going to lose their jobs.

(full article here)

[engie-ivy]

(Because I wanted to write Dramatic Teen Remus😋)

@wolfstarmicrofic 8th: Teenagers

741 words

Lyall dealing with Dramatic Teen Remus

First and Last

“It's mustard!” Remus exclaims, dropping the tie on the floor and covering his face with his hands. “What was I thinking? I can't wear bloody mustard!”

His father calmly walks up to him, while picking up the tie from the floor. “It's not mustard,” he says patiently, as he puts the tie around his son’s neck and ties it for him. “It's ocre, and we picked it because it really brings out your eyes.”

Remus studies his reflection in the mirror for a moment, fiddling with the tie, and eventually, he releases a breath. “Okay. Yes. You're right.”

His father chuckles. “Aren't I always?”

Remus smiles to himself in the mirror. “Well, I do recall one moment…”

10 years earlier

Remus doesn't even bother to lift his head from the table when he hears the kitchen door open.

“Ah,” his father says. “You're home. I already thought I heard someone.”

By means of a reply, Remus lets out a groan.

“That kind of a night, eh?” His father says sympathetically as Remus hears him rummaging around the kitchen. “Looks like it was quite the party, but not in a good way. I take it James’ birthday was not what you had hoped? I'm sorry, lad. Do I dare ask what happened?”

Remus lifts his head and wants to tell his father to ‘please just leave him alone’, but his resolve crumbles when his father places a big mug of his favourite tea and a plate with his favourite cookies in front of him. As his father takes the chair in front him, Remus lets out a deep sigh. “Do I really need to say it? You already know, don't you?”

“Well,” his father says. “It looks like a Sirius issue to me.”

Remus glares at him, but his father juist gives him an innocent smile.

“He was chatting with her all evening,” Remus blurts out. “Laughing and dancing together. He didn't even notice I was there.” Remus shakes his head. “God, I'm so stupid.”

“You're not stupid, my boy. You're in love.”

Remus looks down at his mug. “I'm stupid for ever expecting anything different. Of course he'll never want me. I'm not pretty like she is, I'm not popular like she is, I'm not even a girl like she is!” Remus lets his head fall back on the table. “He's gonna live some perfect life with some perfect girl, while I'll stay lonely and pathetically pining for the rest of my life!”

“Well, at least you haven't been jumping to any dramatic conclusions,” his father says dryly, and Remus lifts his head to glare at him, but then his father reaches out and pats his hand. “I know these feelings are overwhelming right now, but I promise you it isn't all that bad.”

“How can you say that?” Remus complains. “I'm doomed to watch from afar forever, my life might as well be over!”

“You're fifteen years old, Remus,” his father says. “Your life has barely begun! And your love life hasn't even begun. Listen lad,” he squeezes Remus’ hand. “Sirius is your first crush, and I know that can feel intense and all-consuming, and right now, you think you're always going to feel like this, but believe me, you won't. These feelings will pass, and there'll be other boys, other men, and other heartbreaks, but when you eventually find the one that is meant for you, I promise it's all going to be worth it.”

Remus blinks against the tears burning in his eyes. “I just can't imagine ever loving anyone else but Sirius,” he says hoarsely.

His father gives him a soft smile. “I know. But you will. Believe me. Sirius is your first love, but he won't be your last.”

Present

“Okay, okay,” his father says, immediately knowing what moment Remus is talking about. “I'll admit I haven't always been right!” Then he adds in a softer voice “You do know I'm very happy to be proven wrong, don't you?”

Remus meets his eyes in the mirror and smiles. “I know.”

His father smiles back. “Good. Your mother and I are both very fond of Sirius, and it's about time you made him an official part of the family!”

Remus turns around to his father with a grin, holding out his arm. “Does that mean you're ready to give me away?”

“Never,” his father replies instantly, but then his smile returns. “But for Sirius, I will try.”

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Hotel reaction 2 electric boogaloo

still deciding whether i'll post tomorrow

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

4 hours later, despite the arrival of Lucifer and the mystery woman, there is barely no progress. Charlie and the others were so hopeful the first few times because it did look like the extra power was doing something. But every time they make a dent, it bites back even worse.

They flinch as another Goetia fell, prompting the Prince of Lust to call for a retreat from her dad.

Lucifer: No! We can't afford to lose a Ring.

Cherri: They are clearly exhausted.

Angel: Yeah. One day won't be tha bad, right toots?

Charlie: Umm, I don't think so. Hell's rings are a complicated. They aren't just places, it's a system. Losing one will inevitably cause the others to fall apart.

Husk: I guess his majesty doesn't want us backed to a corner. If they let Sloth be consumed then who knows how bigger the problem would get.

Vaggie: He's right. The best solution is dealing with it at the literal root. They can theoretically recoup but by the looks of things, Sloth has little to no time left.

Husk: Mhhm. The constant ritual might be the only thing keeping it alive. The ring is basically on life support.

Lucifer: Goodie! Goodie: I cannot give more of something I do not have, angel. I warned you that my support alone will most likely not stop this. Lucifer: We should at least be denting it!

They quickly covered their ears as the TV let out a sound so ear-piercing that it feels like their head is splitting in half.

Angel: What the fuck???

Looking up despite the pain, they see that giant roots sprout from the ground. It went up and up until it reached Lucifer's pentagram in the sky.

Husk: Is that a fuckin' tree?

Charlie is transfixed on the image. She has lived in Hell all her life but this is the first time she had felt dread from something that came from her home.

'This is not of Hell.' She thought. It makes her sick. But her stupor was cut short as a new voice cuts through the footage.

Leviathan: Luci! Your marks!

Charlie looks in equal horror as her Uncle Leviathan when she saw the state her dad was in. The marks on his body have now almost consumed his whole face. She lets out a sob as Lucifer held up the mirror Alastor provided to inspect his condition.

No one spoke as he does this. Then after a moment, Charlie saw something in her dad's eyes.

Lucifer: Goodie. What do I need to do?

Charlie was about to say her confusion out loud when the lady, Goodie, blew a piece of paper onto the King's skin.

Goodie: This might be the only way to stop my sister. That is an ancient seal from before the Nothing- strong enough to render God and beings like Roo weak. Satan: Huh?! Then why didn't you just let us use that from the start??

Cherri: Yeah! The shit??

Husk: I don't like this.

Charlie shares the same sentiment. Whatever is happening, she has a bad feeling.

Goodie: Because there is a condition. Lucifer: And what's that? Goodie: It must be performed from the inside. It needs to be as close as possible to the one you are sealing. The hold will be stronger with proximity. And with you being the highest power here... Belphegor: Then that means-!

Nononononono, please don't. Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please don't do it. Please dad. I love you. I miss you. Please don't leave me PLEASE-

Lucifer: I need to be the one to go in there.

Protests from the hotel residents and demons on the broadcast overlap with each other. Charlie's ears are ringing. Her chest is tight and it's getting harder and harder to breathe. She can feel someone's hand around her, probably attempting to ground her. Yup, definitely a coming panic attack.

Lucifer: Are you sure this will stop her?

She can vaguely hear someone, probably Vaggie, say something to her but it's all muffled. Charlie could only focus her hearing on the scene in the TV.

Dark spots are filling her vision and her breaths are erratic as her beating heart.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEDADPLEASENOTYOUDONTLEAVEMETOODADPLEASE

Goodie: You are the key, angel. It must be you.

Charlie's world turns to black as she collapses in the arms of her lover. And if her dad looked directly at the camera in hopes of meeting her gaze, well, she'll never know.

[tgrailwar-zero]

And after that performance, the fight was over. You felt JAGUAR MAN give you a hearty pat on the shoulder.

JAGUAR MAN: "Now that was a fight, kid! You should feel proud. Little Miss Samurai should have been returned to the fighter's resting area."

With that, she walked out.

You stepped out of the locker room and returned to find MUSASHI was back in the rest area, laying down. She had taken her eyepatch off, though she sat up when you approached.

MUSASHI: "So? Pretty cool, huh?"

She had her Flame Pad on her lap, and you saw she had a few new notifications that she hadn't opened yet. She flipped it open and unlocked it, before handing it to you with a yawn.

MUSASHI: "Here you go, 'Manager'. I'll let you handle that, I'm kind of beat."

You looked at the notifications as she went back to lounging.

New Messages: ⟡ {ADAMAS} - 1 New Message! (Woah, now that…) ☠︎︎ {MNSLYR} - 1 New Message! (yeah, thats about…) ♛ {JISHNU} - 1 New Message! (Quite the show…) ☀︎ {CITT} - 1 New Message! (Lady Samurai, I've…) ❀ {JERAN} - 1 New Message! (Good game, Saber!…)

-

Recent Messages:

✴{JAGUAR} - Admin: JAGUAR MAN † {FATHER} - Admin: FATHER KOTOMINE ✘ {BLADE} - Fighter: WANDERING BLADE

-

✩ {3STAR} - Fighter: TRI-STAR ☕︎ {CHAJIN} - Fighter: CHAJIN ✴ {EAGLE} - Fighter: CUAUHTLI 🗡{STRONG} - Fighter: STRONG MASK ➶ {KARASU} - Fighter: CROW PRIEST ༄ {MOBYDK} - Fighter: MOBY DICK 𓆟 {WTRREV} - Fighter: WATERSIDE REVENANT 𖦹 {TWISTR} - Fighter: FLESH-TWISTER 🗲 {THUNDR} - Fighter: THUNDERER

--

You checked the available messages.

--

-{ADAMAS} -- [ Woah, now that was what I'd call a fight! I knew from the moment we met you were more than just a beautiful flower, but a special blossom with razor-sharp petals! Spend the evening with me, please! You're beginning to consume my thoughts, and I feel like I'm falling in love all over again!

Hi, this is Adamant's manager. We will make sure that he behaves himself if you choose to meet with him. ]

--

-{MNSLYR} -- [ yeah, thats about what i expected from you, saber. sleepin on the job and somehow pullin off a win? what kind of stupid shit was that lmao. man we better get a chance to fight or i'll be pissed.

listen, i can't meet now, but drinks tonight? you've earned it.

again, congrats. since your fight was goin on at the same time as the whale, you should actually feel pretty damn impressed that lady cleopatra was lookin at your bout more than the damn sea monsters. also the whale won (obviously) so thats your next opponent. so uh. good luck. or maybe i should be tellin that to the fish? ]

--

-{JISHNU} -- [ Quite the show you put on, Saber. It even had me on the edge of my seat! I'm assuming you've heard my deal with your allied Caster and Rider? If you claim victory, then I'll pull some strings and allow you a personal audience with Pharaoh Cleopatra. However, I do also have information on a certain Archer you may have been acquainted with in ages past. Curious? You're curious, aren't you? I'll send you my current whereabouts, and I'll expect to see you there. I'm not a man that likes to be kept waiting, however. ]

--

-{CITT} -- [ Lady Samurai, I've heard legend of people like you, those that people outside of the 'Solar Cell' deemed as 'Heroic Spirits'. I could tell from the way you battled that you must be one of them, though I apologize if I'm being presumptuous. Still, if I am correct, to have a chance to meet you in person would be a great honor. I understand you may be busy and certainly receiving a large amount of requests after such an exciting first match. However, if you do have the time to spare, I would be grateful to receive it. ]

--

-{JERAN} -- [ Good game, Saber! Talk about bad luck for me, getting put up against someone as formidable as you. Ah, but I guess I'm in the loser's bracket now… oh well, it's not a huge loss. As always, my services are available if you want some information on your opponents. Not every fighter is going to be as weak as me, you know. Not right now, though, I need time to recover, haha. Still... man, katanas really are the coolest... ]

--

It seemed like there were a few options already.

Going to a fight allows you to meet with at least one of your currently allied Servants, though their own availability may vary as the arc continues. It may also create a chance encounter as well.

[chiefdollgirl1]

i know you're far more unaccustomed to proposals of marriage, girls who'd stay at home waiting for your cock. i admit it's a rather attractive and wholesome fantasy. however, mine is far more exhilarating.

of course, i'd rather you bask in your flawless, picture-perfect marriage, believing you have everything you could ever desire waiting for you at home. but that wouldn't stop you from glancing at the sweet young girl you pass by every day. me.

over the weeks, you notice me walking a long the time-torn, cracked pavements of our neighbourhood. sometimes i'm clearly in my own little world - your dick twitches at how unaware i am of my surroundings. you imagine how easy it would be to follow me home without my ever knowing. yet, you force yourself to drive on. day after day, week after week, you watch this sweet girl living her mundane, innocent life. you see me crouching to pet neighborhood cats, struggling with armfuls of groceries, even tripping clumsily and nearly falling. perhaps you smile to yourself, amused by my clumsiness and sinisterly entertained by my naive, oblivious existence.

eventually, after months of watching, you see me walking with another guy, deep in eager conversation. your knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as you scowl, forcing yourself to drive on once more. at home, your perfect wife greets you with your favorite meal, her faultless presence a stark contrast to your twisted thoughts. yet none of this deters your mind from wandering back to the youthful girl you fantasise about so much. to me: a teen, barely legal cunt for you to dig your cock into. for you to stretch out and kneed the rounded tip of your cock into the depths of my gut, ensuring i'd never think about another man again.

and, now your cock is hard at the dinner table, just feet away from your naive wife. she's getting angry with you now, why aren't you listening? your mind is too fixed on what you'd do to me. how that... stranger walking with me didn't deserve such a slender, youthful and untouched body such as mine. he barely knew me, whereas you'd been watching.. observing for months.

you can't bear to snap out of your fantasy, your cock is growing harder at the thought of your large hands gripping my small wrists, pinning me down..and your impatience grows equally with the whining voice of your wife. with a slam of your fists, you tell her that you're "going out" -- that you need "some space". she looks confused, but she puts it down to a bad day at work. oh, if only she knew.

you'd climb into your car and drive to where you knew i lived. adrenaline drove you here much more than your foot on the accelerator. you didn't have a plan, the only thing you knew was that you'd be balls deep inside me by the end of tonight. once you started imagining the innocent little virgin you were about to corrupt, all guilt regarding your wife dissipated quickly.

when you finally pulled up outside my little home, hearing the audiable crunch of your tires on the gravel, you notice the lights were on, despite it being late - you had me down as an 'eat early, sleep early' type of girl. you sighed -- you'd imagined sneaking in and raping my unconscious little body previously. now, you guessed you'd have to deal with my little flailing limbs putting up a fight. tut, tut, tut.

you watched intently for a moment, just about to step out of the car when my front door opened -- a man emerged. the same man from earlier. why was he here? a surge of fury welled up inside you, threatening to consume you. yet, you forced yourself to stay put, eyes fixed on him as he left and drove away.

unleashing your pent-up impatience, you clamber out of the vehicle, resisting the urge to slam the door. the neighboring houses are silent, and you don't want to break that calm. you jog toward my door, hoping that i've been careless enough, trusting enough, to leave it unlocked. luck is on your side, and you slip inside, closing the door softly behind you. a fox entering a rabbit warren.

i was strolling from the living room to the kitchen, crossing the hallway, plates in hand. i was completely blindsided, to find you standing there, an unexpected intruder in the sanctum of my home, poised and ready to pounce—and pounce you did. your large hands clamped firmly around my throat, making me drop the plates i was carrying as i gasped in shock. i looked up at you, eyes wide with fear, trying desperately to scream as you shoved me against the cold wooden floor. despite my desperate writhing and kicking, you held me firmly in place, one hand silencing my cries.

i'd met a guy from university, and we walked home together. i invited him in for some food, but, being the steady-going girl that i am, i had no intention of letting things go any further.

now, you—a man i'd never seen before—lay on top of me. fat, salty tears streamed down my cheeks as you whispered close to my ear, "it's okay, sweetie, daddy's here." my eyes widened, the fear of this being a robbery extinguished in an instant.

you couldn't resist. i was the forbidden fruit, tantalising and irresistible, beckoning to be plucked from the tree of temptation. your breath was a heavy whisper against my face, each feature of yours etched into my memory as I tried to unravel the enigma of this moment. but, in an instant, you vanished, head now buried between my legs; swiping up my dress and pulling down my little panties with your teeth. i cried, trying to pull away from you.

i felt the soft, comforting safety of my underwear disappear, my little cunny now exposed. i struggled further, flipping myself over onto my stomach in an attempt to crawl away. you grab my hips and pull me backwards, "aww, where does this little princess think she's going, hm? you little cock-tease" i tremble, entirely confused - i had no idea who this man was, why was he doing this? you must've noticed my confused and dumbfounded expression as less than half a second went by and my face stung with the impact of your palm. my hand shot up to cover my little face, my eyes brimming with tears.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about you little slut" — you unbuckled your belt, pinning me down with your superior size and positioning your huge, monstrous, aching cock at my entrance.

"do you know how long i've been waiting to do this-", you pull my hair, causing me to rise awards and arch for you as you push yourself inside my cunt. i scream, my treasured virginity was, in an agonising instant, torn from me. you grunt as your cock stretches out my untouched, teen-pussy.

"fuuckk...oh, would you look at this, the little angel likes being raped by daddy's thick cock, doesn't she?"

i stiffly shook my head against the cold, dark oak floor, now growing ever more damp with my tears.

"don't lie sweetheart, your tight little cunny reveals all your naughty secrets", i sensed, more than saw, the curve of your smile, a surrender of all restraint as you thrust your eager cock deeper inside me, the lubrication from my wet cunny helping you in your hankering conquest.

a whimper escaped from my mouth as you pressed your hand against my head, grinding me like pathetic mud onto the floor inside my own home. "please.." i begged. i didn't know what i was begging for anymore, for you to stop?.. or for you to keep going? either way i acknowledged there was no way i could escape

this feeling... a cock, a real man's cock inside me, was far more fulfilling than my little fingers at night. you grabbed me, pulling me upwards whilst your cock remained clamped and snug in my tight little hole. you'd never experienced, in your 40 years of life, a cunt so tight - gripping your cock as you dragged me to my little feet.

"watch out for the broken china, sweetheart. we wouldn't want a precious doll like you being hurt now, would we?" your tone is gentle, yet gruesome. i wonder to myself why a man such as you would act so caring despite breaking into my peaceful sanctuary and forcing yourself inside me... did you feel any sense of guilt as you stretched out your victim's unused cunt?

it hurt, but it also felt so good and i begin sob harder at this realisation.

did i cause this to happen? all the nights spent reading rape fantasies, rubbing the irresistible nub between my legs? was i to blame for this strong man, prizing my legs apart now and stuffing his eager shaft deeper inside me?

i struggled more as you pulled my hair, yanking me this way and that. you swiftly swipe your arm over the top of my little cabinet, clearing it of my carefully placed statues, bending me over and lifting my leg.

you have a good view of my body from behind. the shapely, curved orbs, beguiling you to take a bite; the dips of my slim and fit back that resembled graceful valleys, accentuated by the subtle curvature of my spine. each dip seemed to invite perverted exploration, tracing the lines of my slim form with a sense of elegance and allure. your hands, gentle for a brief moment, wonder along my body. such tenderheartedness is terminated with a slap to my ass, leaving in its place a scarlett badge of ownership. closing my eyes, i whisper, "please...", to which you seize my throat, forcing me to pull my head backwards and gaze into your eyes.

your features, i notice, are handsome. surely a man so good-looking wouldn't need to break into a woman's home to get what he wants? it dawned on me in that moment that it wasn't just a young piece of rapemeat he was after, it was me.

"look at those beautiful eyes, muffin" you pull your thick cock out of my broken hole, dragging it along my wet slit. you notice my wetness, but say nothing. clutching my hair, you turn me around and shove me aggressively to my knees.

"let me get a good look at them", you say, index finger guiding my trembling face.

i nod and tentatively take your cock in my hands. it feels strange, something i've never experienced before as i'm running my hands loosely down your shaft, admiring its vast length. without knowing exactly what i'm doing, i lick the tip of your cock gently, looking up into your oval daggers of depravity, piercing through my innocence with their twisted hunger. it's as though i have an innate desire to lick and drool around your cock. a desire that i'm finally satisfying. but, it seems you've grown impatient, and you snatch my head in your hands, pushing my head down further around your cock.

i feel you hit the back of my throat and i gag and gasp against the thickness of your shaft. looking up at you continuously, i see that you wear a smirk like a blade, its mocking edge slicing through the air, now sweet with my mixture of fear and lust. thrusting harder into my little drool-hole, my small hands grip your thighs for stability, trying to widen my mouth further as you pummel my throat. you stroke my head as you do so, big hands, veins gushing with adrenaline, gliding to my neck.

you notice how small i really am, how you could probably extinguish my life right here and now, all it would take was your hands, like iron anvils -- heavy and unyielding -- to be wrapped around my neck, the pillar of my elegence. you were entirely capable of crushing me with a mere clench, but you hadn't yet had your fun with me.

i shuffled to sit on your boot. the cold leather strangely felt good against my wet little slit, and i began slowly grinding away, still stuffing my mouth with every inch of your cock. i pulled my head back away from your thrusts for a moment, needing air before i licked the length of your shaft again.

"please beat me dada" i breathed, smiling at you sweetly like an excited little girl on christmas eve as you raised a balled fist in my direction.

[in dedication to my sweet mutual, @dolldefiler. thank you for your support and our conversations over the past few weeks :) ]

[irrlicht-ghostfront]

HC time!! I have some HCs about Hazbin and its characters, and I wanted to jot them down somewhere (so I don't forget bc my brain is the size of a dead pea) Some of them I'm standing by until they get disproven (and will stand in anything I write) and others are more wonky (for when they seem applicable)

These will likely be mostly about Alastor bc whaddya mean he's my fave?

Apart from being a radio host, Alastor was also the on-call handyman for just about anything when he was alive - while he kinda only wanted to repair radios, he eventually became the man for everything

The children wolud also call him "the teddybear doctor" because his stitches for their toys were the best

Mimzy kept sitting on the jukebox in her bar and thus breaking it, requiring Alastor to fix it at least every two weeks

The Vees are the newest Overlords, and they're basically a 3-in-1 deal - they might not be considered Overlords if they aren't in a group

Alastor knows how to use most modern technology (and how to fix it) he just dislikes it

Alastor meets Rosie and Mimzy at least twice a month

Alastor's always wanted to partake in a stage production but everyone else was too afraid of him to actually get anything done

Alastor's father killed his mother - it was an accident but it still happened

Alastor cooks most meals in the Hotel - nobody else can really be trusted in the kitchen. Charlie accidentally exploded the stove, Vaggie rations the food, Husk just won't, Niffty's food can only be consumed by Alastor and while Angel has the skills, he doesn't have the experience

Valentino and Alastor have never really spoken to one another

Velvette and Alastor would get along splendidly - albeit only over text

Charlie thinks Vaggie's wings are the coolest thing and she's read all about proper wing care

Alastor reads Niffty bed-time stories sometimes - they always end in the most gruesome way possible

Alastor owns several hats he'll never wear but he keeps them clean because they were a gift from Rosie

Husk and Alastor play poker for fun

Niffty brings Alastor pretty rocks she found

Vox has a room dedicated to his Alastor-merch (this one's canon)

Alastor likes fluffy things

Alastor has hooves, but unlike Angel he isn't ashamed of his feet - he wears shoes because hooves and indoor flooring don't mix well

Before the Hotel, Alastor and Niffty were squatting in Husk's house

Vox was a scamartist - he sold useless products over the TV

Vox was stalking several people he thought were pretty, often young girls

In Hell, Alastor suffers from Chronic Waste Disease

Alastor has white scars all over his body - they were a result of several bottles falling onto him when he was a boy

Zestial is perfectly capable of speaking normally, he just doesn't to fuck with people

Rosie collects husbands like stamps

Susan thinks Alastor is a bad influence on Rosie and does not approve of their relationship (they don't have a relationship but Susan has selective deafness)

Alastor is far-sighted

Alastor stores his souls in furbys

Velvette is the only one left with a brain in the Vees

The remaining Egg Boi adopts Alastor as his new boss and nothing Alastor does can get rid of him

Okay that was it I think! I'm sure as soon as I hit post, I'll think of more but this will do for now :D

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Good Night

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, violence, death, suicide, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍯🍯🍯

You open your eyes. It's grim and grey. The world is just as heavy as your body. You try to move but it hurts too much. You drop your hand back to the bed and stare at the green canopy.

You don't remember how this happened. You were in the kitchen, now you're here. You groan, your mouth is dry and sticky.

There's movement in the shadows. You flinch and tense as you squint into the dark. The lamp flicks on and illuminates a familiar face. She smiles, her eyes swollen from her tears, and squeezes your hand.

"I'm sorry, I fell asleep."

You don't say anything. You couldn't if you tried. You give a strained look as she pets your knuckles.

"He's gone. Thor. For now. I told him... I'd be good if he let me stay."

You stare at Muffin. That makes you sad but you don't know why you would care if he's gone. He's not done anything to you.

"I didn't mean for him to hurt you."

Your eyes round and you cough. You squeak as it thrums in your bones. Why would he hurt you? What did you do?

"I decided that if it means I get to see you, then I'll talk all he wants me to."

You nod and squeeze her hand back. You don't have strength to do more than that. You wish she wasn't stuck with him. You wish you didn't know exactly the dread that edges her tone.

"He killed my father," she utters, "Just like... just your mom. But I didn't know."

You give a sympathetic grimace and tilt your head. She never speaks so much, she must be really upset.

"Sorry," you croak and nearly on your arid tongue.

"No, I'm sorry. I was stupid. Just like those other girls."

You furrow your brows and blow out. You shake your head slowly, "not stupid--"

"Yes, very. They're not going to get away. Not forever. They can't."

"Muffin," you murmur.

"I'm done with hope, aren't you?"

You seal your lips and your eyes sting. You don't know what to say. Muffin was always the happy one, she always made you feel better. She is the light in the tunnel and now it's all caving in.

"That went... a long... time... ago," you eke out, little by little.

She laughs into a sob and covers her face. She cries, her shoulders heaving as her despair consumes her. Your own tears trickle out. Your head pulses from the base.

"There's..." You raise your hand and point to the green chest nestled against the wall, "in there. Bottom, pouch..." the words are hard to piece together, "brown with golden string."

She looks at you in confusion. She sniffles and gulps. Slowly, she stands as your arm falls limp. That was your plan, the one you never could bring yourself to follow through on. That makes your chest pit and questions if it's all so bad.

She goes to the chest and lifts the lid carefully. She bends and stirs through the depths. You hid it there with the spare blankets because Loki never deals with all that. You make the bed, you cook the meals, he merely walks upon your freshly mopped floors. Still just a god with his head in the clouds.

She finds the pouch, the little bag once storing one of many necklaces gifted from your avaricious husband. In which you hid the tablets secreted from Tony's cabinet during that chaotic party. You could always get some wiggle room if you gave Loki what he wanted.

"There's not enough.... for both..." Your head lolls and you give and acidic smile, "didn't think..."

She comes back to you and looks inside the sachet. Her eyes flick up and she gives you a dire look. You let the doom numb you.

"You can... have them," you turn your head. "I could.... couldn't."

She doesn't say anything. She stands there, unmoving. Maybe she won't do it. Maybe she'll put it back and stay with you.

"I'm a coward," you confess, "but... you're not."

She sits on the bed again. You look at her through a wall of grief. She won't look at you.

"Can I lay with you?" She asks at last.

"Please," you reach for her hand and grip it firmly around the pouch, "you'll just... go to sleep. I will too."

Again, she hesitates. "What about you?"

"What about me?" You sigh, "I'll find another way... maybe."

You let her go and she dumps the pills into her hand. She stares at them, her throat constricting, and then she pours them into her mouth. She holds her palm against her lips and gulps loudly. She chokes a little and coughs it out. She gives a blech at the taste.

She tosses the sachet and stretches out next to you. You drape your arm over her shoulders as she puts her head on your chest. She slings her arm over your middle and you turn your gaze to the ceiling. Misery loves friends but your only friend does not deserve this misery.

"I love you," she says with a yawn.

You move your hand in front of her face and sign back to her; "Love you forever."

---

This is goodbye to Darling and Muffin. Thank you all for sticking around.

[bogginswritings]

Sleepless Nights for the Damned || Percival de Rolo x fem!reader

I'm sorry for my absence. I didn't write anything here in the last like 9 months. Writers block and school were killing me. I hope this can make up for it a little bit, but don't expect too much. I practically forced this out. (I love Percy smsm)

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x fem!reader/oc

Summary: The nights were the hardest for Percy. When his mind could wander because his hands aren't preoccupied with anything. He was lucky now, though. He had her.

Warning(s): Mentions of past trauma, Percy's backstory, angst and comfort, panic attacks (Percy)

(idk who posted the GIF, I'm sorry)

Percy wasn’t entirely sure what he looked like anymore. 

He had mirrors, of course, but the reflection didn't always look familiar. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to look like, anymore. Would he have looked like this if his childhood would keep going as it did; happy and joyful? Would the dark circles not be under his eyes? Would he not have the white hair, but rather the brown locks he always had?

He didn't know. But it seemed common, to no longer recognize himself. Wandering alone for years in the need of vengeance, a routine of eating rotten bread from trash cans and stealing apples on the market just so his stomach wouldn't complain; one could say this changes a man.

Percy met a group, and he came up with the name Vox Machina. While this was somewhat stable, he was far from happy. He wasn't even entirely sure why, because he had great and caring friends now. His stomach was always full with food that hadn't already gone bad for at least two days. Sure, the jobs they did to earn some coin wasn't always 'ethical’, per se; but it kept them going just fine. Percy wasn't happy, but he was content. As content as he could get, anyway, for the desire of revenge still lingered and nightmares took over his sleep.

Sometimes he’d kill the Briarwoods in said nightmares,  though maybe those should be considered dreams, he didn't know where they came from. Even during the day he thought about it, a gnawing feeling of pure anger taking over his entire being. He had episodes like this, they’ve become more frequent, though Percy was not entirely sure where they came from. Sure, he was so pissed no word in the English language was enough to describe it, but he didn’t think that a feeling of rage would consume his entire being.

No friend could make this better. No one was there at night to comfort him. They didn't understand. He couldn't blame them, he never told them. It wasn't fair to put a weight like that on their shoulders, to trauma dump when they all have so much to deal with already.

Percy felt hopeless, to be quite honest. Especially when he woke up in a cold sweat and had no one to go to. When he had a bad dream as a kid he would just slide in with his parents, now he waited in bed hoping to fall asleep again or at least have his body get the rest. Sometimes he was just extremely mad when he woke up in the middle of the night, and he’d get to his workshop to tinker.

It was always the same, and it felt like a routine. Just like it was routine for Vex to check Trinket’s teeth and Grog to clean his weapons. However, this was a routine he didn’t participate in voluntarily and he couldn’t get out of.

Once again his eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy. It felt like he had to lift up a brick from his chest with every breath in. Percy shot up, sitting upright to try and shake off that horrible feeling. The feeling he was going to pass out from a lack of air. The feeling he was dying. He tried to stay quiet, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He did his best to muffle it, to be silent. Usually he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much, but usually he was alone in his bed. He didn’t share it with someone.

His body got a shock from another stifled sob. Percy could feel this was going to be a bad ride, one he had to let wash over him. Wave after wave until the storm calmed and it passed. They seemed to be more frequent and during the day it fueled his being more and more with wrath and a desire to kill the Briarwoods. Percy didn’t just want to kill them, he wanted to hurt them. He needed them to feel all the sadness and anger he has felt and-

He tried to take a deep breath, to not spiral into there. Right now he just had an intense feeling of fear and panic he didn’t know how to control.

A gentle touch on his shoulder, the weight on the bed next to him dipping. “Darling?” her gentle voice rang through his ears. He couldn't register everything quickly, but she'd sat up too; one hand resting on his thigh whilst the one his shoulder started rubbing circles.

This was the first time Percy had woken her up with it. Though, to be fair, they had only started sleeping in one bed for a week or so. He knew he probably should have warned her beforehand that this could happen- would happen, but everytime he tried an itch in his throat stopped him. God, he felt like such an asshole waking her up, and that only added up to the bad feeling of guilt he had.

“I-” he swallowed, his eyes darted around the room to find something to focus on, “I’m sorry.”

“Look at me, Percy,” Her voice was soothing, “Focus on me.” He did. It took a while, her words still getting processed in his brain, but he did. Her heart broke when she saw his wobbling lips,  “Good, take a deep breath with me.”

Percy tried, he really did, but it just wouldn't. It caused him to fall into more of a panic, his breathing turning rigid. She asked him for something so simple and he couldn't do it. “I-I can’t- I can't-” Her hand moved away from his thigh, but before Percy could start crying because ‘she was definitely leaving’, it came back on his chest. “I’m here. Can you lift my hand?” She asked, and she took deep, loud drags of air to demonstrate. It took a while, but he managed to lift it slightly. And then some more. “Good job,” Her hand moved lower, resting on his abdomen, “And now? I need you to breathe through your stomach.” Percy remembered she did it with herself sometimes too, a hand on her belly before they went into battle. He understood why now, because once he managed to lift her hand it actually felt like air was going inside his lungs for the first time in the last- what, five minutes? It took a little while before it became a rhythm to breathe like that, but it helped.

The hand on his shoulder had moved to hold his face, he didn’t know when that happened, but he only noticed it just now. The feeling was nice. “Better?” She asked, and he nodded, “Good.” She gave him a kind smile, and Percy just didn’t know what he did to deserve her. She knew exactly what to do, and she didn’t even know what this was about. If the woman was honest, though, she expected it to be about the dragon at first. An intense experience they went through. But they’ve been through worse, and it didn’t seem to have bothered the man before. Nonetheless, she caressed his cheek and held him. Percy never had someone comfort him like this, but he knew he liked it. “We can get out of bed for a bit, get that busy mind of yours on something else for a while?”

“I’d like that.”

And so here they were, at the table of the shared household of Vox Machina. Two mugs of tea stood in between them, still steaming and too hot to drink. They didn’t say anything, Percy was too lost in thought and she waited for him to figure it out. “I’m sorry.” It broke the silence after a while. The woman gave him a look, not one that ridiculed him; rather one that asked why he would say that, “You shouldn’t be.”

“But I am, I’ve woken you up. I should at least have had the decency to warn you about it.”

“Does it happen often?” She asked, worry etched into her voice. She always assumed the dark circles under his eyes were from late nights in his workshop, like the others. He was a workaholic after all. She didn't think there was more behind it. She felt horrible for not asking him, to make sure. “It does,” Percy said, “I should’ve said something, I’m sorry this is pushed onto you.”

“Stop apologizing,” she dipped her finger into the tea, deciding it was cooled down enough to drink, “That’s what partners are for, if you don’t get that comfort then what kinda relationship do you have. Would you have gotten mad at me?” He shook his head, even though he knew it was rhetorical, “Exactly.” She took a sip, Percy following soon after, “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you. And if you don’t that is okay, too. I’ll still be right by your side.”

“I want to talk about it- I do, I tried.”

“Take your time, Percy,” she reassured, “We aren’t in a hurry. When you’re ready I’ll be here.”

He nodded, sending her an appreciative smile, “I promise I will be. Later.”

“Later,” she affirmed, and they drank the rest of their mugs in silence.

…

“I just remembered we have that dinner at Uriel’s,” They were back in bed, the woman playing with Percy’s hair as his head was tucked under her chin. They didn’t cuddle often, but this felt nice, “You excited?” She felt him nod, “Though I’d be more excited if Grog remembered his manners.” She snorted at his response, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree.

“I can’t wait to have a change of scenery. Fancy foods,” she gushed, “and fancy drinks.”

“It’ll be good for us, to get some respect as Vox Machina,” Percy said, “It could get us better jobs.” She hummed in acknowledgement. That would be nice. She kissed the top of his head, “We should probably sleep then, to look presentable and all.”

“I always look presentable.”

The woman snorted, “You sure do, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

That night was the first in a while where Percy felt safe.

Alrightie, hope you enjoyed!

[leagueofdccm]

Name: Caden Hayes Face Claim: Cillian Murphy Age: 47 Location: Las Vegas, Nevada Territory: MGM Grand Universe: The Walking Dead occupation: boss man The city of sin, always and forever. Even when the world fell apart Vegas never seemed to stop being vibrant. The music still blaring across the streets, neon lights catching the attention of many travelers passing by. They say there are rumors of this city, that if you stop by you can't ever leave. You know the saying ' What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'-- that also means the guest who dares make a pitstop. Vegas is run by the wicked, the bad--- the worst of the worst. A city run by criminals. Those who are forced to stay as prisoners are used to clean up / kill the zombies who are close to his territory. The prisoners are also used to be part of Vegas entertainment, the MGM Grand Garden Arena is used to throw in those who don't obey the law of Vegas, and also those who need to prove themself worthy of living. Vegas has zombies that have developed over time.

'Special zombies' that don't think like the rest, some of these zombies don't walk, they run after their victims. They chase like wild animals, inhuman noises coming from them as they not only try to bite you, but rip you to shreds with his nails. Another reason why the leaders of Vegas trap random travelers, they use them to go out there and handle these creatures who are far more aggressive than your average zombie. That's why rumors spread about this sinful place being forbidden to those traveling. Nobody has ever made it out alive from Vegas, nor have those who went ever found an escape.

Caden Hayes runs his own territory after the fall of Vegas, he didn't surrender like a bunch of those who could live on in a world this cruel. the world was cruel before, it was no different to him. he was made for this life, made to become something more. to take those under his wings, to take care of his very own and create a kingdom out of his territory. he isn't a leader who sits around looking pretty, he leads his followers to kill those crossing his territory, whether it's unwanted zombies, the special ones or enemies of his who want to take over the MGM Grand.

Imagine this when you think of Vegas in the World of the walking dead, how alive it still is even after the fall....yes it may not look its best, but the neon lights never shut down. I picture Vegas being a place where villains conquer all. And when I say Vegas being a rumor I mean nobody knew if they bombed it or not. So it turns out to be a myth, part of the unknown until you begin to hear music from a far distance and see those neon lights--- and see that vegas is still running, still partying. hookers, pimps, the crimes there are not being shut down just because of the apocalypse. the MGM Grand Garden Arena is also very huge, back in the day they used to for concerts, ufc fights you name it. Now after the fall ? They use it to trap their victims and have them fight against these special zombies.

Caden Hayes is an all-time villain. He sends his people out to kidnap, to murder. He doesn't get his hands dirty unless he has to when it comes to dealing with other people. But he isn't one to back down when it comes to fighting. he was nobody before the fall. he wasn't some police officer. wasn't a doctor, a nobody. well, maybe not a nobody... he was a professor in a college back when the world was normal. It wasn't what he had wanted in life, but it was something he was good at. knew how to keep the kids interested, knew how to make the class enjoyable. but it wasn't what he wanted. this life... being a leader, running his own territory... he lost so much... he didn't plan on losing any more. He had a wife and a child before the fall. Now it's only him. He doesn't let the loss consume him, not anymore. They aren't part of his life anymore and he doesn't shed tears for them. The old him is as dead these zombies. he has been reborn again, and he wanted more. not only to rule vegas... but to send his people out into the world. find communities and take their community, control it. kills the leaders of said community.

[squidcandy]

staring into your soul rn can i hear about your akatsuki headcanons? ive recently come around to loving these little sillies and need some food <3

Oh my god. Where do I beginnn. Opening up the little notes app doc I keep them on

Bulleted list obviously

Keito is autistic, Kuro has ADHD and Souma is the AuDHD poster child

Kuro has a bag that he carries around with him full of safe snacks and noise canceling headphones and fidget toys for all of them when things get bad in the sensory department

Keito and Souma go on morning jogs together. Kuro wants to join them but he sleeps in.

This one is technically canon but. Sleepovers at Keito's house. Souma and Keito drag Kuro out of the futon by his ankles at 6 am

Kuro has a super warm body, and Keito has the heat retention of reptile. He's almost cold blooded. When it's cold, Souma and Keito will stand closer to Kuro/huddle near him to use him as a heater. They do it unconsciously, and though Kuro notices, he doesn't say anything because he thinks it's cute :)

Kuro's sister thinks Keito is boring and lame.

In order to get Souma to check his phone more often, Keito has gotten him a virtual pet app. Souma's virtual pet is very well maintained. Kuro's is dead.

Because Kuro usually helps Keito into outfits, Keito sometimes just stands around pre-interviews/shows, expecting someone to put his coat on for him before he realizes Kuro isn't there and does it himself.

Kuro believes in the philosphy of Anything can be fixed with a good smack. He did this with the TV in the common room, and now there's a big black blotch in the corner from where he "gave it a good one"

Kuro often chews the backs of his pencils and straws, so Keito bought him a chewy pendant and pencil attachment. He worries about how much lead Kuro has consumed.

Souma shakes his head and hands to stim. He keeps slapping people with his ponytail, though.

Keito just needs to do things with his fingers to let the happy energy out, either adjusting his glasses, hair, gesturing, or stretching them.

When Keito is on his own and reading a good book or manga, he'll kick/bounce his legs to stim.

Kuro has sleep fought Souma (who was also asleep) Keito, who was in the sleeping bag to the left of them, felt mortal fear.

Keito's dorm with Hajime and Hokuto Reeks of Lavender and Sandalwood. Hokuto would Like to say something about it, but it actually isn't so bad.

Kuro listens to Doja Cat. He thinks it's neat. He doesn't understand the lyrics very well.

Keito has Banned Doja Cat from the office Playlist. He cannot Get into It (Yuh!). 'It' being his paperwork.

Souma will never know what a Doja Cat is. He thinks Kuro must be hiding some sort of feline in the dojo.

Keito is very good at baking, because he's good at measuring things and following instructions

Kuro usually goes with his gut when it comes to cooking and it tastes great.

Souma has excellent memory and recreates Niki's dishes almost perfectly.

Kuro does his sister's hair and practices new styles on Souma. Sometimes, he'll put clips and things in Keito's hair when he's asleep or intensely focused.

Kuro snores extremely loudly. It's horrible. Dad snores.

Keito will often fall asleep immediately after a performance and Kuro has to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks/draw stuff on his face. He has failed to resist on more than one occasion.

There occasions on which Souma regrets telling Kuro and Keito to include him when discussing things, because this has now extended to the pettiest of arguments. "Kanzaki, tell Kiryu that he needs to put the dishes in the sink as soon as he's done" "it's not that big a deal, danna. Right Kanzaki?"

Akatsuki photocards and promotional materials aren't selfies, but rather pictures that they took of eachother.

Kuro and Keito walk around ES with eachother non-stop. When Keito is in the office, Kuro drops and him off and picks him up.

Kuro tries very hard to get Souma in on his dad joke sense of humor. It has only partially worked.

[pillofmoonlight]

Anger is a prick. Anger is consuming and exhausting. Anger shows itself at the worst of situations. Do you often feel like this? Do you often feel like your anger makes the worst of you. You're not alone. But trust me your Anger isn't the enemy. It took me a while to figure this out. Anger comes from within the place of disappointment or what our brains deem as mistreatment. Anger is just a warning for us to know that this is not how we should be treated and that's why it urges us to take a step towards it. The problem isn't the anger but the way individuals deal with it. How we express it can be healthy but most of the times it's not because somehow everyone has decided that anger is a bad thing to have. It's not.

Anger isn't something unique to a gender or a person. yet I'll talk abt this in a gendered concept. Stereotypically "men are from mars and women are from venus" (man didn't know that venus is the hottest planet) but John Gray in all his gender stereotype never mentioned why certain individuals deal with anger in certain ways. It's true to most that men and women do deal with anger in different ways but it has nothing to do with them being men or women. It's all about how society has come to teach them about it in a very gendered way.

For men, anger has always been a very acceptable thing. It's okay for them to be angry, which is a good thing. One less problem. Society has accepted their anger. And somehow society normalised the way they took out their anger on others as well, which is not a good thing. For them anger isn't something to run from. They sure do need to learn better ways of dealing with anger rather than dumping it on the next person they see. The problem with men is not their fight with anger but the fights that they have because of their anger because society failed to teach them to deal with it in a healthy manner.

For women, anger is a much more complicated issue than that. Many women might deal with it in different ways but for most women anger has often been understood as to be something to be ashamed of. Women are told that good women aren't angry. They don't get mad. "No one likes a mad woman." Guess what? Women do get angry. Anya Taylor Joy talked about this in an interview that how rage for women is seen as a tear drop falling from one eye and she emphasises that it's not true. WOMEN GET MAD. WE GET MAD. But women learn anger to be not a very woman trait. Like they wouldn't be loved or valued if they were angry. They run from their anger. Now being ashamed of your anger poses more problems than we think it does. For me, being ashamed of anger as well being a person with too much anger (got it from my father) came with its own cycle of guilt and self blame. I started blaming myself for everytime I got angry. I wanted to feel punished for being angry. Because I was taught it to be a bad thing for me. When I used to be alone, I used to blame it on myself. But when I was angry and arguing, my goal shifted from blaming to being blamed. I'd say things to trigger the other person. Purposefully make them feel hurt so they could say things to me and I could feel like I was punished for being angry and the cycle would complete with guilt and regret. That's what being ashamed of anger has always been for me. And this is not because I was a women. This was because that's how I was raised and that's how many women are raised to believe about anger. If men grew up believing that, they'd end up in the same cycles. It's the way we were brought up.

Anger was never a gender specific problem but it was made out to be because as everyone needs to learn how to deal with anger in healthy ways, women need added effort to learn how to not be ashamed of their anger. Because again anger was never the problem society made it out to be. Emotions are never the problem. It's the way you deal with them, that needs to be learnt.

– pillofmoonlight

[faint-kitten]

Never forget Marcus Fenix is bad at sex.

by Faint_Kitten

NOTE: I'm going to oversimplify a lot, because believe it or not Tumblr DOES have a character limit and if I write too much it will refuse to save it/post it.

Gears of War is an incredibly political series. The books are cannon. Each game has MASSIVE time jumps and introduces new characters as if we were already supposed to know them. And you would, if you read the books which form one long continuous story with the games. In fact, the original Trilogy almost doesn't make sense without them. They are functionally worse stories without Karen Traviss' novels fleshing out the characters and completing the story. One of the recurring things that gets glossed over by fans of the games who just like the multiplayer is the fact that everything is awful in Gears' universe. Humanity fucked itself. It fucked itself fighting a multigenerational war for (lets be blunt) oil. The lambancy is the result of mining and fucking with immulsion and it is literally destroying crops, making ground infertile, and seeping it's way into every animal and source of food. That's why they're on the ships in Gears of War 3. Its why you have the line "you fucked up my tomatoes asshole." They have to grow food on these ships, because it literally isn't safe to be on land anymore (as seen in Coalition's End). But the fucking lambancy (again, a mutation caused by a never ending war for fuel) is reaching the ocean it's consuming the planet. As seen by the leviathan fight at the start of Gears 3. Mining, and Refining immulsion which turned out to be a living organism sleeping, (a parasite) made Lambancy, drove the Locust out of hiding and into conflict with humanity. The resulting condition of immulsion (lambant being the parasite and lambency being the condition of succumbing to the parasite) is infecting everything. It's literally ending the world. The world is falling apart, because in an attempt to win a war for Imullsion (Oil) they experimented on miners with rustlung (Black lung) to create supersoldiers to win the war, which lead to the creation of the Locust in the game. Hmm. First Gears game came out in what, 2005? There didn't happen to be any sort of...THING happening around the 00's that bled into every facet of our popular culture coming out of the U.S. at the time. Did there? Hmm. Whatever. Game's aren't political amirite bros? My Point is: humanity is fighting the entire original trilogy for it's survival. And they're doing horrible things to do so. I don't have space to go into everything, but honestly the emotional core of Dom and Marcus is not nearly as interesting as Cliffy B thinks it is, compared to everything else going on in the world. The fact no one gives a shit about art and museums as they have shootouts because...what the fuck good is art when everything is dying? When Dom and Anya attempt to pay a lawyer they do not give him moeny, they give him government ration coupons, because food is more valuable than money. Characters outright call Marcus and friends "fascists" to their faces. It handles a lot of the logistics of "the world is ending, humanity is losing how do we fight a worldwide war that we're losing, and what does that look like, in the military, in politics, and civilian life?" One issue of the original comic deals with the fact there are breeding farms. Women who are forced to make as many babies as possible, because more babies is supposed to mean more soldiers. With Alex Brand declared barren when she couldn't make baby and being put into the cog army. When they visit one of these birthing centers in the comic, where the women (justifiably) have revolted and taken over the facility, one of the women tells Marcus he probably had his pick of women, a big strong guy like him. Now Mr Fenix is our big strong manly man. We cannot have hetro men playing our game thinking Mr Fenix would let a lady talk to him like that. He's gotta be noble, This is the 00's. There were no wokescolds in gaming yet. Gamergate was a blip in our future. Our hero has to be right, he has to pwn this woman. So Marcus Angrily defends himself: "Listen Lady, there are two ways to win this war, making soldiers, and killin' grubs, and I'm a hell of a lot better at one than the other."

I think Marcus Fenix admitted he's bad at fucking.

[girl-with-goats]

Interview Music Tag Game

RULES: Put your playlist on shuffle. For each of the 10 interview questions, select a lyric from the random song that comes up. (Skip if there aren't any lyrics and make sure to drop the name of the song in your interview answer!)

Thanks @felixantares for the tag, this was fun and also some songs fit in quite unexpectedly.

(Some of them fit too well.)

1. First off, how would you describe yourself in one sentence?

The callous skin on my hands is cracking If our love ends would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labor – Paris Paloma, Labour

2. What kind of Virgo are you?

I got two strong arms Blessings of Babylon time to carry on and try For sins and false alarms – Gigi d'Agostino, The Riddle

3. You're visiting your favorite spot. What are you thinking about?

The light on the horizon Was brighter yesterday With shadows floating over The scars began to fade – Linkin Park, Final Masquerade

4. If your life was a movie, what do you think the first review would say about it?

Ahhh, my first song here had no lyrics, but it would totally fit into my life soundtrack – Riopy, I Love You.

In a coat of gold or a coat of red A lion still has claws Mine are long and sharp, my lord As long and sharp as yours – The Rains of Castamere

5. Say you get a book deal, what are you titling your memoir?

Kom deg hjem – No.4, Lite og stort (Tr. "Come back home" – yes, I do have songs in Norwegian on my playlist)

6. What would you say about your best friends?

I heard them calling in the distance So I packed my things and ran Far away from all the trouble I had caused with my two hands Alone we traveled on with nothing but a shadow We fled far away – Of Monsters and Men, Mountain Sound

*nods*

7. Think back to when you had everything figured out in high school, what was your life motto as a teenager?

I'm dreamin' in colours, of getting the chance Dreamin' of trying the perfect romance The search of the door to open your mind In search of the cure of mankind – Within Temptation, Utopia

I–

Well, actually it was a song I considered my motto throughout high school. I even had them play it for me when I got my diploma when I was graduating!!!!!

BUT HOW DOES SPOTIFY KNOW IT

WHAT IS THIS SORCERY

8. Describe your aesthetic now.

I will kindly watch you sleep And I find out that your eyes are open I hide other pieces that you never would have liked If you knew about them So I hide my children – Aurora, In bottles

OUCH.

9. What's a lyric that they'll quote in your eulogy?

Though the truth may vary This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore – Of Monsters and Men, Little Talks

10. And for our final question, say we believe in soulmates, what do you think their first impression of meeting you will be?

Jesteś dzikim wiatrem, który porwał mnie jak wątły liść, Nie ma mowy stawić czoła mu. Jesteś ogniem, który trawi serce, umysł, noce, dni, Nie ma mowy stawić czoła mu. I nie mogę w nocy spać, opętany każdy nerw I pijana każda myśl, odurzony każdy dzień. Z narkotycznego snu Spadam w studnię bez dna, W narkotyczny sen bez dna. – Turbo, Serce na stos

OH DEAR.

So this one is in Polish:

You're a wild wind that swept me up like a frail leaf, There is no way to face it. You're the fire that consumes the heart, mind, nights, days, There is no way to face it. And I can not sleep at night, every nerve obsessed, and every thought drunk, drugged every day. From the narcotic sleep I'm falling into a well with no bottom, into a narcotic dream with no bottom.

Tagging @sandervansunshine @nanneramma @tracingpatternswrites 🥰

[lettersfromthelevant]

i cannot overstate how grateful i am to the op for making this post. i actually want to cry writing this out because it is so difficult for me to feel like i can share how much of a struggle dental hygiene is for me. people flip their shit so badly when they learn that depression and executive dysfunction can cause you to stop brushing your teeth (or other hygiene) and it makes it so much harder to overcome when the only response i get for voicing my struggles is disgust, disbelief, and shaming or punishing behavior. my issues were made so much worse by abusive dentists that actively made me feel like a horrible, lazy, pathological liar for something i couldn't help having or by a community that would constantly shame me for the state of my teeth being yellow (my mom would constantly ask me to smile with teeth, knowing full well that my teeth were stained and that i was self-conscious about it.)

to this day, i still have problems brushing. i don't think i've actually brushed every single day--or even just a few times a week--for close to eight or nine years now. the second i had legal authority over myself, i never made another dentist appointment; haven't been to a dentist in years and when i was being forced to go, i would actively contemplate severely hurting myself to get out of the appointment. no one ever recognized my severe aversion to the dentist or my bad dental hygiene as being the result of depression and trauma. no one ever gave me compassionate and realistic advice on how to deal with my depression and navigate self-care while i hated myself. so, for the sake of myself and all the people in the notes who need the kind of compassion and advice op has given us, i'll share some of the things that have helped me:

stop restricting dental care to a specific time of day or activity. my dentists gave me a lot of shitty "advice," but what made my hygiene tank the worst was scheduled brushing. even if you are only brushing your teeth once a day at this point, stop telling yourself that you can only do it before a meal, after a meal, after your rinse, at morning-noon-evening, etc. this mentality will completely fuck up your motivation to do anything, because by the time that point rolls around you'll have already lost your will to do it. when you feel yourself gain the energy to do a task, make that task be brushing your teeth, no matter what time of day.

keep toothpaste, a washcloth, and floss on your bedside table. one of my biggest challenges during depressive episodes is even getting out of bed. so, in the morning when i have absolutely no will to move let alone complete a task, i am not going to drag my ass to the bathroom to do something i associate negatively with. you can either just scrub your teeth with the cloth or put a bit of toothpaste on it and more thoroughly clean your teeth. having floss or a washcloth and toothpaste on my nightstand erases one of the biggest challenges of dental care: the effort.

if you can't brush your teeth that day, eat a mint. bad breath is a bitch and one of the things that always inadvertently caused me to fall deeper into a depressive spiral is when people pointed out my bad breath, thinking that "caring" bullying would fix the problem instead of making me even more reclusive and miserable. popping a breath mint or gum is better than nothing; don't let people make you feel bad for only being able to do what they deem a "minimum."

you don't need to restrict your diet to avoid cavities; eat what you want. much like doctors will tell people to stop eating [x] food to cut weight, dentists will tell people to stop eating (or drinking) [x] thing to avoid cavities. not only is this horribly ineffective, because food and drink aren't the only things that cause dental issues, it also creates a negative association with dental care. i had a dentist tell me to stop drinking milk because it was just as bad as soda. i stopped consuming pretty much anything the dentist said not to consume and not only did it not make my teeth any healthier (because it turns out frequent cavities can be genetic), it didn't make my depression any better either. restricting your diet is ineffective against cavities for a number of reasons, but the negative association it gives you towards dental care can exacerbate the overall issue.

don't shy away from "children's" dental care products, like the stick floss and good-tasting toothpaste. there is no reason to torture yourself with painfully minty toothpaste, long floss, mouthwash and bleach strips that feel like you are taking a taser to your teeth, or rough toothbrushes. my dentists were constantly recommending me to use the most wretchedly minty toothpastes that i couldn't stand, bleach strips and mouthwash that caused me actual pain, and electric toothbrushes that felt like i was drilling my skull. anytime i asked for softer or better tasting things, i was told no. suffering isn't virtuous and there is no medical benefit to inflicting trauma on your mouth with these products that feel intentionally designed to punish people.

it's never too late to start brushing your teeth again. i basically never brushed my teeth for a whole 10 years. a decade. A DECADE. i still struggle to brush my teeth once a week, but it all started with brushing my teeth once every few months. so i mean it when i say brushing your teeth once a week, a month, a year, or even a decade, is better than nothing.

and still, nothing is not shameful. it is not immoral to struggle with self care. and it is also not pointless to keep trying. anything you can do, even if its wiping plaque off with a towel, is enough. it is good to take care of yourself however you can, even if it's just trying to muster the will to. reading this post is good, too.

i believe in you and i am proud of you, even in the smallest of steps. it's okay. you can give yourself grace.

[thedarkstarrr]

Here I am or what's left. Cause they couldn't drag me to hell and I could live to die anymore. I can't just give up anymore. I gotta try. If I fall I gotta try again. Drug addiction is like a constant game of Russian roulette, if it's not the drugs that kill it'll be death from whatever skep ass shit I had to do to get the drugs. I've been living for this for so long I can't imagine what on earth people do when they aren't chasing something. Or someone..

And lucky for me I no longer wakeup sick and have to chase that dragon anymore. My time is no longer constantly consumed by the thought of being sick or needing more. However I live in my own world. That world's more dangerous than the outside. I get trapped inside my head with nightmares, sometimes dreams and then I let it consume me because I guess I can't ever believe that anything is going good. Maybe I am addicted to being miserable and I know that sounds crazy but that's just how I've lived for so long. Miserable.

It started with blank stares and someone screaming at me over usually nothing, occasionally over something I'd done. I usually own up to my shit tho so the need to keep yelling atw for hours or days on end was never necessary. I stopped fighting and just started staring and I stopped being sad and I got real angry. I started to burn bridges while I stand on them not caring who else it burnt or destroyed in the process the more the merrier. After all misery loves company. So I went on like that for so long and put up with so much bullshit I accepted bullshit as reality. Today I realize nothing changes if nothing changes and that first thing is changing how I feel on the inside because if I feel good I'm not gonna deal with the bad, especially now that I don't have to deal with the sick.

I'm loud so obviously God intended for people to hear, someone has to be a voice after all you wouldn't put a diabetic into jail if the aye to much or not enough sugar, you wouldn't jail the lung cancer or COPD patients who carry around they're oxygen tanks and still smoke. No you offer help maybe hot them with some wisdom but you absolutely don't throw them into a system they will never get out of. One that makes it almost impossible to get a job or live anywhere and make the normals not wanna help. But I'm sure if I had cancer they'd make sure I go to a Dr. However since I'm a addict they don't care about getting anyone to a clinic.

[wri0thesley]

Nat… nat… genshin men and somnophilia 🫣 Diluc who just needs to have you so, so bad. Comes back from his dark knight escapades and you’re asleep, vulnerable and innocent and so lovely and he can’t stop himself from touching you all over. Or Childe who just would never stop if he desires you, just eagerly starts grinding against you or touching you, doesn’t care if you wake up!! OR PANTALONE… Because he owns your body and he has a right to it any time he pleases. Wahh help the brain rot is consuming me.

somno.... sigh....

cw: not sfw, minors dni. somno, reader is afab but no pronouns or gendered language are used. dub-con, especially for pantalone - relationships are implied to be consensual but the discussion of consent doesn't take place within the hcs. fingering, grinding, oral sex (on reader), teasing. ft: diluc, childe, pantalone, zhongli, lisa, ayato.

diluc, who can't help but be overwhelmed whenever he slips back into his bedroom and sees you waiting for him, asleep amongst silken coverlets in expensive nightclothes. you're so peaceful - so lovely, your mouth curved in a half smile . . . of course he can't help himself. he has to remind himself that you're real; hot palms dragging over every curve and line, the heavy, warm weight of you so terribly erotic against his bare skin now that his gloves have been stripped away. after a long night of fighting for monstadt, it's a luxury to allow himself to sink into your warm embrace - but his pent-up emotions need to be taken out somehow, and you make it clear how you think he should as you sleepily blink at him and spread your thighs, already falling asleep once more even as you implicitly tell him that he can use you as he needs.

childe, who is constantly dealing with all of the hormones of being a young man in a position of power, as well as an unfortunate lack of impulse control where the most beloved person in his life is concerned; who thinks you're beautiful when you're quirking an eyebrow at him and shooting back one-liners with a smugly satisfied smile, but thinks you're just as beautiful quietly beside him. who lets his eyes wander over your body, whose gaze lingers on the bruises on your hips from just how roughly he held you last night - and feels his cock twitching at the mere memory of that. who says he'll simply satisfy himself with some touching, but is soon messily mouthing at your throat and grinding his stiff cock against your ass until, oops, you're awake and that means he can just go to town on you now, right?

pantalone, who, yes, can touch you whenever he likes - pantalone who knows he has you body and soul and knows that you belong to him and uses that knowledge to unload whenever he's had a particularly difficult day. sometimes that means having you in his office, over his desk, to work out a little frustration when a plan he has doesn't come to fruition. sometimes that means on his lap in a meeting of harbingers, whilst the others try not to look at how your hands curl into his cloak and you muffle your whimpers against his throat as you warm his cock and keep him in a calm, affable mood amongst some of his more volatile colleagues. and yes, of course that means whilst you're sleeping - you're his, aren't you? and shouldn't you, then, wish to please him whenever and however you can? oh, he could be cruel - but even when you're asleep, he's spoiling you with the way his thumb is dragging circles over your clit and his fingers are curling inside of you, so giving yourself over to his pleasure even in slumber is really the least you can do.

zhongli, who needs to sleep little himself, but cannot help enjoying watching you do so - the reminder of his most precious treasure laid out on his bedsheets like a work of art. his touches are intended to be lazy, but when you react so sweetly - when you sigh out his name, when you arch your back and squirm as his claws brush the soft skin of your bare thighs . . . ah. you wouldn't mind, would you? if he indulged some of that hunger that you always seem to stoke deep within him. when you wake up to zhongli's forked tongue flickering over your sex, his low, rumbling voice murmuring pretty things against your slick skin and the soreness in your hips and thighs and body that suggests that you've come whilst sleeping more times than you can count . . . mm. well. you won't mind helping him with his own pleasure now, will you?

lisa, who likes nothing more than lazy mornings in bed with you . . . and likes them even more when she awakes first, and you're utterly at the mercy of her long fingers slipping between your thighs. who loves playing the game of how long you can stay asleep whilst she teases you, who murmurs softly in her low, pretty voice; "oh, darling, don't start stirring now . . . just lay back and let lisa take care of you, alright?". lisa, who uses the orgasm she wrings from you (your eyes stickily blinking open to the sight of her licking your own arousal from her fingers) as proof she's already done some hard work today, and therefore she deserves to lay back down beside you and drift off once more.

ayato, who delights in teasing you whilst you sleep. who slips in long after you've come to bed and cannot resist just playing with you a little; who brushes his cool lips over your chest, ghosts his tongue over your nipples until your sweet face creases and you whine. who simply presses his cheek against your soft thigh and lets his hot breath fan over your cunt until he can see that you're shifting, that the tell-tale glimmer of wetness is beginning to shine between your legs. who may, if he's feeling generous, even brush his fingertips over your poor, untouched sex-- and who always, without fail, when you wake up in the morning after suggestive dreams that leave you unsatisfied, asks with a faint smile on his handsome face; "and how did you sleep, my darling? i found that you were rather . . . restless last night."