#Lemme know and also lemme know who you want to be in it

[sturnlsstuff]

Phone sex with ghostface!matt/chris and he uses the voice modulator (ghostface's voice) because he knows that reader loves it

divider credits. @anitalenia

"c'mon, jus' tell me your favorite scary movie and i'll let you cum..." his low, hoarse voice echoes on the other end of the phone. the voice modulator matt uses sends shivers down your spine, your fingers start pumping in and out faster of your dripping pussy, the wet squelching fill the room.

"i don't remember the name!" you whine desperately, back arching up as you try to grind against your hand more.

"you do, sweetheart, just think—"

matt felt like he was on another planet, panting into the phone while his thumb kept rubbing against his leaking with precum tip, making his cock throb in his grip. the way he also saw you through the camera he had in your room made it even harder for him to hold back, but he wanted to see you lose control just because of his voice before he comes.

"i.... uhm—" the wheels in your head turning around, the name of the horror movie at the end of your tongue, but you weren't able to remember it while matt was literally keeping you on the edge, causing your legs to tremble.

"rub harder f'me, yeah?" a groan leaves him when he sees on the screen of his other phone how you immediately listen to him and put more pressure into circling your clit. "you got this, i know you do— holyyy fuckk, just say it—"

matt squeezed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to wait for you. he thrusts into his fist, chewing on his bottom plump lip to muffle his sounds.

"matt, i don't remember..." you cry out, curling up your fingers to hit your g-spot which makes your vision go blurry.

"yes, you do—" he says with emphasis on his words, his hand starts moving faster. he was struggling not to release all over himself.

pleasure starts overwhelming you as your thumb presses against your swollen bud even more.

"t-the.... the conjuring! the conjuring—"

matt growls, squeezing his dick slightly, his hips jerking upwards. "there you fuckin' go... was it so hard?" his jaw is slacked as he watches you through the camera, the way you desperately grip the sheets, trying to grind against your own hand... fuck, matt was too far gone. "come all over your hand, sweetheart— lemme.... lemme see—"

a wave of relief washes over you at his words especially with the voice modulator that was making his voice even hotter. the thought of him on the other side of the phone jerking off because of how turn on he made you, makes your toes curl.

the moans of his name escaping your lips steal a feral moan from matt, his cock twitches, warm drops of cum bursting from his tip, panting his thighs and lower stomach. "s-shitttt, you always make me go crazy—"

your eyes roll back as you cream around your fingers, pumping them to ride out your orgasm and drawing out the pleasure for as long as you can.

as you both stop your movements, you can hear his heavy breathing which makes goosebumps appear on your skin. the effect it has on you is even bigger with the modulator matt uses. your hand holding the phone is shaking slightly, when he speaks up again.

"see? told ya it's gonna be fun."

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10

[haveihitanerve]

Batboys centric in which they come to the realization that Bruce is pretty (not romantically, the kind of pretty when you look at your mom's wedding photos and see her in an amazing dress).

Bruce isn't used to people seeing him as pretty, but her Brucie Wayne persona because that's the whole point of it.

ohohoho i have a hunch this is you and also this is sooooo interesting... lemme see what i got-

“Do you want to come to the tavern with me?” 

The words caught Dick off guard. Both because he hadn’t heard anyone say “tavern” in years, and because Bruce had said it.

“Um?” He glanced up from where he was sprawled over the couch, looking away from his phone. “Yeah? Sure?”

Bruce hummed, reaching up a hand as though to run it through his hair, then thought better of it, and dropped it again. For good reason too.

Dick tripped as he stood, eyes glued to his father, blown wide. Bruce frowned, glancing down at himself.

“What's wrong?” He asked, concerned.

Dick’s cheeks burned and he ducked under Bruce’s arm, heading up the stairs. “Nothing, nothing, I’m just gonna get changed.” He muttered, hurrying up the stairs and ducking behind the corner.

Because what the fuck.

Dick peeked back out, daring a glance back down the stairs at his Dad.

Bruce was wearing a loose fitted light pink tank top, tucked half heartedly into deep navy slacks, hair styled away from his face in a way that clearly revealed his age.

It wasn’t to say that Dick had never seen his Dad in different versions of undressed. Quite the contrary. Their line of work required levels of nudity, whether while dressing an injury, showering, or working their secret identity personas.

But this… Dick shook his head, heading to his room to grab some clothes to change into.

Bruce was… pretty. 

The next time it happened, Dick had witnesses. Jason and Tim were sitting in the den with him, pretending to watch a movie.

Truly, only Jason was actually focused on the story, as it was a movie that had come out when he’d been dead, but Tim would look up on occasion, usually only to draw Jason into a quick debate before dropping his attention back to his phone.

Dick himself was listening to the movie like an audiobook, a real book propped up halfheartedly on his stomach.

“Tim, could you help me quickly?” Bruce called, a moment before he entered the den.

Tim dropped his phone, eager for an excuse to have some work to do, faltering only for a second when he realized the task wasn't case work. No, instead it was much much worse.

Dick lifted his book, cheeks burning, as Jason stared, eyes wide, jaw dropped.

Tim, however, seemed completely unbothered, hands moving quickly and effortlessly to help Bruce out before he dropped back into the seat.

Bruce ruffled his hair with a light smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks Timmy. Boys.” He nodded at his eldest and exited again.

“Tim.” Jason hissed the second he was out of hearing, and Dick dropped his book.

Tim, who had returned to his phone, completely unruffled, glanced up, frowning when he spotted their gagged expressions. “What?” He asked, puzzled.

“You just-” Jason floundered.

“You just helped lace Bruce up in a corset.” Dick hissed. Tim blinked, mind whirring.

“Yes?” He finally agreed, still perplexed. “And this is important because…??”

“He’s pretty.” Jason scowled.

Tim laughed. “Guys, you do realize that our Dad is Bruce Wayne right??? The guy who wins every fashion contest? The guy our classmates call hotter than Superman?? The one person where guys go “i’m not gay but…” and girls go “i’m not straight but…” That Bruce Wayne, yeah?”

Dick scowled. “Yes. We’re aware. I’ve had to deal with those comments about him for much longer than you ever have.” He shot petulantly.

Tim raised his hands, brows furrowed. “Then what's the big deal???”

“We know he’s hot.” Jason snapped. “But he’s… he’s just.” He looked at Dick for help.

“He’s never been pretty.” Dick supplied. “Hot, yeah sure, handsome, okay, sexy, ugh, fine. But- but pretty??? He can’t leave the house like that. My ears will never recover.”

Jason nodded his agreement, looking like a grim military general at war and not a child discussing his fathers attraction level.

Tim looked at both of them, laughed, and propped his feet up on the table, picking up his phone again, chuckling like a supervillain.

“Oh man. And y’all haven't even seen him in a dress yet.” 

um. so.. okay. Firstly, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I just uh have been really busy and unmotivated and yeah im so sorry 😭- secondly, this is not like, even close to what you asked... and i also apologize for that, but i figured better late than never? and its like... kind of in line with what you asked so... yay? anyway sorry and here and hope you like it even tho its not what you asked :)

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

I literally made a post on Tumblr about this idea but thought I'd actually share it here but decided to make a more special version:

The y/ns one day going into a throw down to see who is the best y/n...the superior y/n...like the embodiment of the song 'the ultimate showdown'...Or, if you want another version I think is also super fun...'the ultimate smash bros' lol...

And can imagine the cookies standing idly by in shock as they see things like streamer cookie throwing a left hook at alien y/n or entity y/n going John Cena on timid y/n...oooor the cookies, when they notice the y/n show down, start trying to stop it, loving all the y/ns and not wanting them to destroy each other lol!

Decided to write this bonus with the version where cookie are trying to stop the fight...just various scenarios that are happening all at once because of the number of y/ns lol:

Entity, in a tree about to jump from it elbow first onto timid y/n: AND THEIR NAME IS ENTITY Y/N COOKIE!

Regular, seeing entity jump right at them: OH DEAR WITCHES-

pure vanilla, quickly running up to push timid y/n out of the way and then catch entity so they don't take fall damage: BOTH OF YOU, STOP! WE LOVE YOU EQUALLY!!!

Meanwhile:

Streamer, holding a modified keyboard to work both as a keyboard and a blunt weapon in their hands: LET'S FUDGING DO THIS!

Alien, with a blunt alien weapon: COME AT ME, YOU COWARD!

Caramel arrow: OK, BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!

Meanwhile:

Timid y/n and shy y/n...really not wanting to fight but know this is a free for all and both immediately think the other is gonna kick their butt: .....

Both immediately start crying.

Cream ferret rushes up, trying to calm them both down: shh shh it's OK you don't have to fight, let's go for hot chocolate instead...doesn't that sound nicer?

They both go off with cream ferret.

Just pure chaos heh...sorry if this idea sounds stupid just with the y/n tag having so many different kinds of y/n cookies...having a creative mind and listening to these songs all combined really makes ya think XD

Let's- Lemme just list how many Y/N cookies I've made just to be sure what I'm getting into=

Ancient Y/N- virtue of patience

Beast Y/N- Shadow of wrath

Child ancient Y/N- Virtue of innocence

Child beast Y/N- Shadow of grief

Male batman Y/N

Entity Y/N

Alien Y/N- (No stories on them yet)

Robot Y/N

Streamer Y/N

Timid Y/N

Shy Y/N

Ghost Y/N

Merchant Y/N

Isekai'd Y/N

Baker Y/N

Tarzan Y/N

Child of White Lily cookie Y/N

Yeah- I'm gonna figure out how to do all of them T T oh boy-

Y/N cookie showdown!

On a random day of a random week on a random month in a random year, the Y/N cookies found themselves in a predicament. They wanted to be the best Y/N cookie. But what happens when everyone wants to be the best? They argue and fight to claim that title. And unfortunately for the cookies, these 17 cookies were no different.

Ancient Y/N cookie and Beast Y/N cookie are trying to stangle each other

Ancient Y/N: DIE, FOWL BEAST!

Beast Y/N: TASTE MY WRATH, STUPID COPY!!!!

Pure Vanilla cookie and Shadow Milk cookie are tying their hardest to pull the two apart.

The Children aren't exactly any better, even if they aren't fighting physically since Mystic Flour cookie and White Lily cookie are holding them back.

Ancient child Y/N: Crybaby!

Beast child Y/N: Goody two shoes!

Both stop talking for a moment, before crying to the adults.

Both: They were being mean to me!

Mystic Flour cookie: There there,

White Lily cookie: It's ok little one.

Male Batman Y/N: *Holding merchant Y/N in a choke hold* Admit your defeat!

Merchant Y/N: *Wheezing* Over my dead body!

Male Batman Y/N: That can be arranged!

Black Raisin cookie: *Trying to push them apart* No! Stop fighting! I love you both too much to lose any of you! Stop!

Streamer Y/N: *Hitting Alien Y/N with their keyboard* Be gone!

Alien Y/N: *Behind a shield* Like your father?!

Caramel Arrow cookie: No no- no insults! Stop fighting before any of you get hurt!

Robot Y/N: *Trying to shoot entity Y/N* STOP MOVING SO I CAN ELIMINATE YOU!!!

Entity Y/N: *Moving in all kinds of inhumane ways* MAKE ME, METAL HEAD!

Agent Jjajang cookie: No- don't taunt each other! Just behave for witches sake!!!

Baker Y/N: *The only sensible one at the moment* Guys- there isn't a best Y/N, stop fighting-

Ghost Y/N and Isekai'd Y/N: SHUT UP!

Isekai'd Y/N: I'm about to exorcise a stupid ghost!

Ghost Y/N: Not if I hit you with another truck first!

Pumpkin pie cookie: No! Stop fighting! You'll end up hurting yourselves! Please stop!

Tarzan Y/N: *Casually holding child of White Lily cookie (COWL) Y/N by their ankle* Hahahahahaha

COWL Y/N: Put me down you brute! Put me down right now!

Cherry Blossom cookie: Aye! put them down!- put- Hey! Put them down and stop fighting this instant!

Shy Y/N: *Thinking they're done for*

Timid Y/N: *Thinking it's over for them*

Both begin crying and Cream Ferret cookie rushes to them both.

Cream Ferret cookie: Hey hey, it's ok. You don't have to fight. You're safe. Come on, let's get you some ice cream and candy for the other two crying over there.

Both nod as they follow Cream Ferret cookie.

[neunnnnnnn]

SLEEP PARALYSIS IS YOUR BEST FRIEND+ LONG STORYTIME OF HOW I SHIFTED WITH IT ✨

Okay here me out as someone who has been "traumatised" during sleep paralysis ( I felt a hand go up my legs and I was wearing a night dress mind you) it's not actually as scary as you might think.

Because Sleep paralysis is when a person transitions between sleep stages, particularly from REM (rapid eye movement) sleep, during which the body is naturally paralyzed to prevent acting out dreams, into wakefulness.

It is harmless and I'm sorry to say this but those "shadows" that you see are actually a projection of your subconscious mind. What is it that's actually scaring you?

Is something that you should seek to discover or else you might be stuck and keep on waking up every time you feel an intense symptom or feeling. Journal it or whatever method you use and tell yourself that it's all in your head and that you are more powerful than that and most importantly you are safe.

Storytime

Okay so I was planning on doing an awake method and I decided to lay on my back since I sleep when I'm in a comfortable position. Anyway I got my subliminal and started counting. I counted till 100 then I started affirming I felt the usual symptoms; twitching, feeling really hot etc but then nothing was happening and was starting to get impatient. I told myself lemme just count the last time till 50 then I'll just go to sleep because I was also starting to get sleepy. I started counting then when I reached 15 I felt a pressure on my chest like something was pushing me down like aggressively but I told myself that I'm not going to get scared cause I thought I was shifting so I continued counting. I reached around 35 when my eyes opened on its own , I was so excited but when I looked around I was still in my room and I almost crashed out because I was so done atp 😭✋🏽. I tried to move but I couldn't and I could still hear the subliminal that's when I knew that I had sleep paralysis. Since I've never seen any "demons/shadows" I wasn't scared and I thought lemme try shifting to my Dr but I didn't specify which one and it still pisses me off to this day!!!

Anyway I started affirming that, " I'm in my Dr" over n over when suddenly my legs started floating and my eyes like shut themselves and I couldn't open them I started being scared because wth 😭. Anyway I just kept affirming and then I saw flashlights, it was like there were cameras flashing around my eyes . When suddenly everything stopped and my eyes opened by itself.

I noticed that I was in an all white room with white sheets and there was a woman next to me. I sat up because I was confused on which reality I was in and I looked at the woman and saw that it was Aurora ( the singer, I luv her sm😭) she was seated on the bed and was reading a book , she glanced at me and I immediately asked her which building are we in and she looked at me like I was fucking crazy and started saying that my jokes are turning to be pathetic, like huh?!?😭 Y'all I was so offended I had even forgotten that I had shifted for a second. I just decided not to argue with her and I looked outside the window on my left and it looked like the medieval times? I'm not sure and the buildings were like the old times designed . I looked down at myself and I saw that I was white ( I'm mixed) and that's when I was like, "Did I shift to a reality where I'm a white person?"( Oh and I was wearing a grandma nightdress 😭it was cute tho it was in baby pink) Immediately I stood up wanting to like know where the hell I was but then I couldn't move my legs like I couldn't lift them so I was just awkwardly standing there trying to lift them and Aurora sighed saying " How do you expect to walk after the night you just had?"

WHEN I TELL YOU MY JAW WAS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR I LITERALLY SCREAMED AT HER"WHAT?! " and she told me to shut up 😭. Anyway she said that 'he' told her to come up to check on me because I wasn't waking up!!! I was shocked and I just kept thinking " Did I just get fucked a few hours before I shifted here? What if I had shifted in the middle of it?!" My mind was so chaotic and I couldn't even think of anyone that could have been 'him'

Anyway Aurora came and pushed back on the bed telling me that I have to rest because I haven't really slept much but then I started feeling like my body was being pulled down and I knew that I was shifting back and started pleading to Aurora to help me up because I was not sleepy but she insisted and told me to sleep and that she'll be right back and then I woke up here.

I was in shock for like 5 minutes and I couldn't even leave the bed, I was feeling a little disoriented and nauseous, I also noticed that my body had moved positions to me laying on my side.

Hope this motivates you n that you don't need any genetics to shift that's a load of bullshit🚮, your cat can even shift if it could who knows . And this was to also show you that sleep paralysis isn't scary or bad and can actually be useful. I'm still not sure if you can manifest through it but I'll try next time and see✨.

This is what I Saw one woman wearing, not sure which time period this is.

[the-hasegawa-fan]

Autistic Kamimura hcs bc i can!!!

(Most of these are genuinely js shit i do LMAO. I wanna combine my autism with my new husband so👍👍👍)

SPOILERS FOR UP TO TRIAL 1 OF TETRO

1) Bc of all the skincare things he stole back in chapter 1, he has this sensory issue where he HATES the feeling of dry skin. LIKE- HE WILL FUCKING RETRACT HIS HAND OUT OF SHEER INSTINCT.

2) This heavily relates to the last hc, but he's pretty particular abt the clothes he wears. Mostly comfy shit, but if the material is something that drys out his skin, or irritates it- HE WILL IMMEDIATELY TAKE THAT SHIT OFF

3) When Kamimura is having speech issues, he gets REALLY fucking irritated. LIKE- INSANELY IRRITATED. He will yell out in sheer frustration.

Example: "So I-I-I-IIII-I-... *inhale*- AHHH."

3.5) Ken knows abt Kami being autistic, they both know. They both are very patient with each other, Kamimura will insult to the MULTIVERSE AND BACK anyone who tries Ken or him. I love these guys

4) When he's talking or ranting about something he likes to someone he's comfortable with, he starts doing hand gestures to help get his thoughts out easier.

4.5) If you get Kamimura talking about his hyperfixations (and he considers you a friend), he will start PACING. This also help him gets out his thoughts, just straight PACING AROUND THE ROOM.

I have a few more, but these were the ones I was able to think of at this very moment lol! Lemme know if u want the sequel (i'll make it anyways dw chat)

[whiteboi-inferiority]

Interview with @black-new-world-academy pt5

I am deeply shallow; hair, hoops, heels, a pretty face and a wicked laugh. And accessories. Necklaces, bangles, purses, bows, scarves, gloves, cocktail glasses, that cute little QoS tattoo and hotwife anklet. The way you wear them and the way you work them will get you noticed.

Some class A eyefucking and flirting skills (primp a little, preen, lemme see it), a passion for expression, a strong selfie game, knowing your worth and what you want, being classy and graceful with just a touch of gossipy cheerleader vanity and a hint of oral fixation will get you attention.

Being liberal minded, willing and experienced in polycule life, having a high EQ, being playful, being adventurous in spirit and wanting to explore, being a good person who likes to let out their wicked side during sex, being tactile and romantic, having good self grooming and self love habits and not someone who will be an emotional vampire, and being available (physically & emotionally) and being consistent will keep my attention.

Note that at no point did I mention skin colour, plumbing, BNWO or being a submissive slut.

I harp on about white women here as the blog is focused, partly, on taking whiteboys' women from them hehe. There's no fun in taking away something they didn't feel entitled to or can't relate to in the first place. Also pictures of suitable white women to caption are easier to come by.

But as @karlie-xox and @sissyfuckdoll153 can attest on here, Daddy's partial to a BAME baddie and the trans women I have been/am involved with irl happen to be among the sweetest, bravest, truest, most beautiful, most feminine creatures I've known. White cis-women are not the automatic top of my foodchain.

It's hot if you're into BNWO, but really its not a deal-breaker if you're not. Simply being with me and not a whiteboy is doing your part bwahaha ✊🏾

And the 'submissive slut'? Honey, I don't demand you be that. But if I'm the right Daddy for you, will find you want to be that with me anyway.

[noornight]

Long distance besties. This definitely happened after the third movie (source: trust me bro)

Based on this

[fallout-fucker]

Part Two is below the cut.

Warning because it's long. @wizardhatwithacowboybrim Glad you like it! I've had a sequel in the works since I made this post but kept forgetting to finish it, so thanks for reminding me! I hope you guys like this concept, lemme know if you guys would like a Part Three. It's lowkey a fic now and I'm debating actually fully writing one with this concept on AO3 because of how fun it is, and have been debating so for a while. I haven't covered all of the companions in this Part, mostly some of the NV ones, because honestly I haven't played NV as much and haven't travelled with some of the companions yet 🤡💀 It also leans into Sole X Hancock. I hope it's enjoyable either way. Also, no beta reading because I cba and honestly I should be doing work right now but did this instead. I would make it actually grammatically correct and such if I was fully writing a fic on AO3 but alas, I have to actually stop procrastinating.

Six has half a mind to pick up Pre-War money when they see it, or jet and orange mentats. They don't really do chems, but finds themself collecting them. That and...Well, all sorts of stuff, really. History books. Ink and working pens or pencils, notepads. Comics. Wigs and different kinds of sunglasses. Silly hats. The pile at base grows overtime. They don't recall who they were meant to gift these things to.

Or why they grab at random junk. They have caught themselves reaching for a broken light bulb mid gun fight, almost getting shot in the proccess, on one too many occasions. We could use the copper- Who's we? Why would we need copper?

They're not keen on the NCR. They can understand the goal, and agree with the idea but don't quite like their execution. Six has an arguably egotistical belief that they could do a better job, for some reason. The NCR would do better with more structure. Less focus on a new currency, and more priority on actually rebuilding and providing support to the local settlements and people. There's a difference between being a militia out of necessity because of the world they live in, but with humanitarian goals at heart, and being a military faction that uses humanity as an excuse but not actually a goal. Too many of those factions around, in fact. The trade is a good idea, but are they actually protecting caravans on their routes? Cassidy would beg to differ. There has to be balance. Money alone doesn't solve these issues.

ED-E seems a comforting companion. Six doesn't quite know how they're seemingly already used to a little flying robot. They finally have someone to use some of the gifts for, though. They quite enjoy putting little decorative hats on her metal head. Sometimes, though, they'll go to hand something to the bot only to watch it drop. Many mugs have been shattered this way, glass and coffee everywhere. ED-E has never had hands, what did they expect? Yet they do it more often than they wish to admit.

Rex is adorable. Even with his brain showing. Loyal to a fault, but dogs are, aren't they? Six all but ran to him when they saw him sniffing about on his own, almost cried from the overwhelming joy. They'd had a dog, they think...Two...One before and one after...Before and after what? They can't recall...All Six knows is the relief they feel when Rex lets them pet him, trusts them enough to roll to his side and gives them room to rub his belly. Soft fur...A few metal paws, but that's okay. When they sit with him back at base, a screwdriver tightening the joints in his hand- No- Paw...They smile. But it's a sad smile. Like one would have when missing a friend, or a few. Not just a dog...But a man, too...Borrowed brains and metal limbs...Ha...Rex was a loyal dog, but an even better partner.

When they become properly acquainted with Boone, a sniper with a deceased wife, they feel a sense of deja vu. When the Novac mess is over, Six has to catch their tongue before they ask if Boone's son is safe, if they both got away. He never mentioned a son. Who would they be running from?

They also smile at the rare occurrences when Boone takes off his hat. Something about a man in sunglasses -Changing out of one thing, maybe into another- Makes Six chuckle, like they're expecting Boone will come out with some one-liner or joke. But he's not the type.

Cassidy is fiery. Downs more whiskey than water. Whiskey Rose is a fitting nickname, though Six had originally settled on Cass. That was until they almost called her Cait. They didn't, thankfully...Had they known a Cait? They don't know whether the question makes them happy or not. If it's a good thing to remember or not. Regardless, they can't deny the- Nostalgia...? Yeah...Yeah. Nostalgia- They feel when Cassidy's eyes burn into their own when partaking in their now traditional weekly arm wrestle. Whoever Cait was, Six thinks they must've liked her. They hope she is okay. They hope she is...Healthy? Well, they guess, they just hope she is still alive.

This world isn't kind. It wasn't really kind then, with all the Wars- What Wars-? But even worse now. Even with all that time...How long had it been? Since...Since what? A fresh breeze, a sunny morning...The sound of cars driving past an open window...Someone dancing by a kitchen counter...The soft sound of a crib mobile playing a lullaby...Maybe...Maybe in another life...Maybe past lives are real...In a way...

They should check on Boone and his son. Is the boy alright? Six hoped so, they know how awful it is to lose a chi-

...Boone doesn't have a son. I don't have a...Did I...Do I have a son?

Veronica is a sweetheart. Her love for dresses is enough to make anyone's heart just that much warmer. There's something familiar in the softness of her smile. Her eagerness to wear dresses and explore that almost long-dead idea of 'girly-ness'. Six knows she’s an ass kicker working with the BOS, and laughs at the idea of her beating people up in a dress and heels. Yet whenever they stroll their way towards the BOS HQ, something always makes Six reach out to grab her wrist; a want to high tail it and run the other way. A sense that they don't value their soldiers as much as they say. Six is scared Veronica will be met with a betrayal from seemingly nowhere. Veronica always just smiles and tells them everything is fine, and marches on in, like a good soldier. Always a good, blind soldier. Six swears they taste poison whenever they mutter the words 'Ad Victoriam'.

Raul is a breath of fresh air. Fresh air laced with a sense of home. Sometimes when he calls Six 'Boss', they look over at Boone, expecting it to have come from their designated sniper. But that isn't quite it.

A large part of it is the occasions he talks about the Pre-War world. When he does, Six goes quiet. Not even a peep. They just sit and listen to his tales, almost like they remember those years themself. Like they can see them. The grass, the beaches and neighbours and houses and shopping streets, the schools and college students and the kids in playgrounds...

Six traces a finger over the watch on their right wrist. On their left arm is where they keep their Pip-Boy. It doesn’t say which Vault it was made for, but it doesn’t match the models of the local Vaults. The words 'Pip-Boy 3000' are engraved on the back, which is hidden when wearing it. It's the only clue Six has of their past. That and their watch. They don't need a watch, their Pip-Boy shows the time...So, they have come to the conclusion it was a gift. They think they would've made a good Detective in another life...If that were true, they'd probably be home now, though. Wherever home was...

Still, they look at the small hand ticking by the seconds and smile. The soft ticks and turning of gears. Whoever made this had been taught well, and had inherited their own habit of gift-giving. Six often puts the watch up to their ear and just listens. The sound of metal and gears. The sound of loved ones. They don't like the idea of wasting time, feels like they missed many years somewhere, somehow...But those moments are worth it. Copper. That's what he asked for...He wanted to fix a camera...Because...I mentioned I wanted...An album of...Of us...That's what we planned before he was born...I...I need to...I need...I don't even know...

But that’s still not fully it. Six also has a soft spot for captured people, like enslaved people at the Legion. Also a soft spot for ghouls, especially those with a sense of humour. Raul's had Six doubling over quite a few times. Sometimes when they're travelling, and sleeping near each other, when Six wakes up, all groggy and such, they almost reach for Raul, almost pull him close as if it's natural. Like one would if they woke up next to a friend of brown hair, and mistook them for their brown-haired love at first glance. That had also happened before, Six thinks...But then they stop, their hand hovering. There's a stigma that ghouls smell of rotting flesh. That isn't true. Six could smell vintage clothes and leather. Worn books. Jet and orange metats, could almost taste that latter on their tongue. They were his favourite, but he isn't here. Whoever he is.

He was always warm, the way that ghouls are. Something about the radiation. Six faintly remember how reassuring it could be, especially on those nights that brought the threat of chilly air. Especially when they were terrified of even the hint of cold. When a hand would gently touch their shoulder, and then someone's warm chest would press against their back and keep the cold, the fear and uncertainty and everything else, everything dangerous, at bay. Like a human radiator. It felt like fire meeting ice. Like moonlight and...

It's nights like that where Six has to turn away and put their hand over their heart, trying to rub the ache in it away. To force themself to focus on the night sky and breathe...But then that sky only reminds them of black eyes, the stars like glints of light and love against a pitch-black backdrop...Where only if you look close enough, you see blue amongst the black.

Six thinks they even really loved the word Blue. Six thinks they loved a lot of things.

Six knows they loved the sky because it reminded them of him. Six now hates the stars and hates the sunshine, which they can't escape from in the literal fucking desert, because they know they loved them at one point, but not why. Or at least not the person that caused them to.

So Six takes a break for a few days from all of their companions and sleeps alone again. Only when they look at the other side of the bed, empty and cold, do they feel the sting of tears. They don't even understand their thoughts, but that doesn't stop them from racing.

I may not remember you but I know I love you...Take care of...Of our boy. Get him some copper for me, will you? You're always good to him like that...Take pictures for me, so I can see them when I'm back. I don't want to miss watching him grow up this time...Not...Not again...I'll come back to you. All of you. I will.

I'll survive...I always do...

Don't I…?

---

The next time Six goes out, they make sure to hand-pick the best items from their 'Random Stuff Pile'. They walk. They help the locals, do odd bits and bobs, and take the odd jobs no one else is willing to do. Most importantly, they wait.

They walk. They work. They wait.

Until it happens.

Until they catch a glimpse of them. Exactly what- Who- Six was waiting for. The group of 'other Couriers' that follow Six when they start helping people again; leaving rumours of their reputation around the Mojave in their wake, like breadcrumbs and clues. A trail to follow. That, until recently, Six hadn't realised they had been leaving. Six almost made a betting game with themself based on how long they thought it'd take until they found them again. A small gamble.

They suppose that's what this is; a gamble. To see if there was a reason Six never felt fear when they saw those figures in the distance. If it were anyone else, they might, in a world like this. Or at least be on edge. But that was never the case. They felt familiar. Six wanted to test that.

Six finds a spot. Out in the open, a valley. One that they cleared any hostiles out of weeks ago. They wanted to make sure they would be safe during this. Six looks towards the hills and mountains looking into the valley, and sure enough, there's a group of masks and red lenses watching. They make no effort to hide anymore. It seems they're betting on Six, too.

Sol- Six smiles behind their mask, debating taking it off. But then they remember the scar that runs over their forehead and into their hairline and thinks not yet. I'm not ready. Small steps first. I have to be sure.

Gambling is dangerous, and they never were a fan of Russian Roulette or bullets or unprotected faces.

Six takes their time setting out the small shrine of trinkets and treats they had brought with them. It's made up of a collection of smaller shrines. It's set out in a way that the number of people on the mountain is accounted for, with a few spare piles depending on which cards Six is betting they have in their deck. Six thinks they can remember and recognise a few of them, their mannerisms, but is unsure about the identities of most of them.

The one with sunglasses sticking out of his shirt pocket, replaced by a mask, sticks out the most. He's always been good at this stuff; following, detail gathering, listening out for whispers and rumours through the grapevine type of stuff. He was the first person Six had put money on being in their recon group, they think he was even the original masked face trailing them around, back when it was just one. His pile is one of the ones Six is confident about, made up of an assortment of wigs and funky glasses, and candy he likes.

Six couldn't necessarily figure out the rest, but could reasonably guess. The Detective, perhaps? That made sense. Otherwise, Six only had their hope.

Cait's name is the only one they remember, and only because of Cassidy. So they hope Cait is there. Six leaves a bottle of whisky as the centre of Please-Be-Cait's pile, more so as an inside joke to themself. That pile is one of the spares, towards one of the sides of the general shrine.

There's hope in all of the piles, Six supposes. Bits of 'I'm trying', 'I want to remember. I want to know you again', and 'I hope it's you, whoever I think you are to me' scattered throughout all of them.

History books. Ink and working pens and pencils, notepads. Comics. Wigs and different kinds of sunglasses. Silly hats. Copper and orange mentats. The shrine grows over time. Six doesn't recall who they were meant to gift these things to, but they're hoping they're right regardless.

When the offerings and gifts are all laid out, and Six has ensured they're perfect, they look once more towards the mountain. The figures are still watching. Of course, they are. They would follow Six anywhere. That's what they did, didn't they?

Six stares back for a moment, savouring it. The hope. Then they begin walking away from the offering. Six moves slowly, so they'll have time to investigate the offerings and still catch up. But now the ball is in their court. Six…Had made their move. Now it's their turn to make a play. To gamble.

Because if Sole's time in the Mojave had taught them one thing…It's that this game…This game was rigged from the start.

What do we think of finessing the Fallout timeline a bit so that Fallout NV takes place after Fallout 4 (I'm working out details and looking into lore to see if this would work without a bunch of plot holes and what not. As far as I know it's not too interconnected to the other games so I feel like you could get away with a 6-8 year jump without too much going wrong) for a plotline where Sole and The Courier are the same person.

So after a bunch of Nuke World shenanigans, Sole 'takes care' of a lot of the people who were running Nuka World, but someone gets away. Anyway skip a few months and Sole and MacCready go to The Capital Wasteland to bring good ol' baby Duncan to the Commonwealth, as well as catch up with an old friend of MacCready's (The Wanderer) to look into the water purification thing that Sole would wanna attempt to do in the Commonwealth.

On their way back to Boston, however, they're ambushed by a group of raiders, who have links to some cult-ish faction down in Nevada. One of the raiders recognises Sole. It's the person that escaped Nuka World. For payback, they take Sole (MacCready manages to escape with Duncan when Sole gets them an opening) and sells them off to that cult. MacCready catches the name just barely. Caesar's Legion.

He gets Duncan back to Sanctuary as quickly as he can and immediately gets word to the rest of the companions. Preston had stayed to run the Minutemen in Sole's absence, Hancock to run Goodneighbour, Nick to carry on with the agency but also to attempt to keep peace in Diamond City after the Sheep's Clothing disaster, etc. Of course there's panic, and they begin to make a plan.

Sole on the other hand, was taken to the Legion. They managed to escape, but not before they were stripped of all their possessions. They have no money, no weapons, no food, no connections. No way to survive, and no way home. They scavenge, get basic supplies. Manage to ask around for work. They get a few odd jobs, not enough caps yet though to be able to get home. Until, they hear of a job through the grapevine. Some delivery that needed to happen, its important, but all hush hush. Doesn't matter much, the pay out is huge, if done right. Last time they took a job no questions asked, it didn't exactly go well, but they ended up with Hancock willing to be their companion, so who knows. Besides, reluctantce based on the unknown isn't so putrid next to the sweet smell of enough caps to tag along with a few trading caravans along the routes back to Boston.

Really, how dangerous can a delivery job be? Being a courier sounds like an easy job compared to being a General.

It should be easy. Should be. Until they're looking up the barrel of a gun. Until a bullet goes through their brain.

They survive, somehow, because they always do, don't they? It's in their name. Sole Survivor. Was it ever a surprise. You'd think they're immortal, a God, when neither a bullet to their brain or even a nuclear war can kill them. But they're not a God. They're human. So, it's doesn't take long for that kind of luck to run out. Like Russian Roulette, there's always at least one bullet in the chamber. You'd think in Vegas, it'd be worth the gamble. But, when they wake, they don't remember anything. Being a Courier sounds easy when you're under the belief that's what you always were.

Less easy when it seems everyone in Vegas and their mother is gunning for you, for whatever reason. All Sole is interested in is catching the bastard that shot them, and getting some damn answers. Both about the damn chip, and who they are themself. Not a single person in Nevada seems to know who the fuck they are, like they appeared from nowhere. The mask probably doesn't help, but it beats getting shot in the head again.

All they know is they have it out for Benny.

As well as a few strange things.

Like how a chill runs up their spine when they hear talk of the Legion, and have almost an instinct to stay away. The same happens with the Brotherhood of Steel. The name feels like it should mean something. Those men and women prancing around in clunky armour feels like it should ring a bell.

They hate the heat of the Nevada, but they know if they had to choose, they would rather boil to death than freeze. They pile on blankets at even the slightest hint of a cold night, which is rare in the desert anyway. But Six doesn't like to gamble. The threat of a bullet has a history of not going well for them. They didn't sign up to play this game. They don't want to know if the other gun chambers are empty or not. Something about the cold just doesn't feel safe, reminds them of something they can't even remember. It's just an inkling feeling, gives them anxiety of a looming threat. Especially going to sleep cold. Something about that thought keeps them up at night, scared to sleep. Like a haunting sense that when they wake up, things will be different.

They're a little paranoid of people whose movements seem too perfect, not entirely human, find themselves looking at the back of people's necks where there could be scars, as if they're chipped or have inplants. It's not like they're not actually human though, right? Right...? They have no reason to believe that. Maybe. They hear a folktale about how your phobias in your current life are warnings from your previous lives. Six doesn't know what they think of that theory. They don't know if past lives are real. Something tells them they could be, in a way.

Six also feels watched. Turns to look over their shoulder far too much. At first they blame the paranoia, but something feels too real. Something feels familiar. After a while, they start to notice the figures in the distance. Faces ducking back behind rocks when Six turns around at the feel of eyes on the back of their head. The man, or men(?), who wear the same Courier outfits as them. Who follow Six's every move. Who, from what Six has been hearing from their discreet asking around, seem to be trying to find out who Six is almost as quickly as Six themself. Six had wondered what had happened to the other Couriers. They wonder if it's actually them. Or maybe they hope they do. Otherwise, the reflective shine of a red lens in an identical mask that matches your own behind your reflection as your walking past a broken window gets too eerie for someone who still doesn't know if they even have a friend's house they can run to if shit hits the fan. At first it was one. Now it's a handful. Six swore there were only five more couriers other than them. Despite the unease, there's still something else. That familiarity. Like when Six sees that ducking of a head in the corner of their eye, it's like a hand on their shoulder. A guardian angel only you don't know if it's an angel just yet. It's like they're growing more confident, like they want to actually reach out. Six isn't so sure they don't want them to, isn't so sure they shouldn't just walk over to them the next time they see them lingering on a cliff in the distance. It feels as if their meeting is inevitable. As if it's not really an 'if', but rather a 'when'. Then again, they shouldn't be surprised.

After all, the game was rigged from the start.

[itsmariejanel]

can you hear me through the white noise, friend? 🩸

introducing blood type, an underground vampire band ft. myra vatore, kat cave, samantha gratz and markus crow

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you should post screenshots of all the marvel rivals magneto lore for those of us who don’t have the game 👀

"Max Eisenhardt was born with a near-limitless Mutant ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Suffering a lifetime of brutal persecution, Magneto made it his mission to ensure the survival of Mutantkind, no matter the cost. His unyielding crusade often puts him at odds with other Mutants who seek more peaceful ways to coexist with humanity. Magneto led the campaign to gather the planet's Mutant population and transport them decades into the future to a safe haven on the sentient island Krakoa, protecting his brethren from the growing dangers of the wider world."

magneto lore description + his signature :) i'll come back to reblog and add to this post as the rest of the stories are unlocked!

full Trial of Magneto story below the cut screenshotted AND typed up by Yours Truly

As he gazed off into the distance towards the line where the ocean met the sky, Magneto's cape fluttered gently in the calm breeze that was drifting across the coast of the sentient island nation of Krakoa. His was a life far longer than most people ever had the chance to live, and this was one of the few moments of true peace that he could recall. But he knew from experience it would not last for long. It never did.

"Something on your mind, old man?" a familiar voice asked from above, breaking the silence. As Magneto glanced up, there, hovering on the wind like a majestic goddess, was Ororo Munroe -- the Mutant weather manipulator known as Storm.

"Funny, isn't it," mused Magneto, "that we fought all those years for a better future for Mutantkind... and now we have finally found it, further in the future than any of us ever imagined."

Not so long ago, the sovereign nation of Krakoa had been swept up in a chronal storm -- a time-twisting anomaly that would have ripped the island to bits if not for Ororo's deft manipulation of its tumultuous currents. Instead of becoming lost in the timestream forever, Krakoa arrived safely on the other side of the tempest in the year 2099. The future that Mutantkind had always dreamed of was finally theirs to claim. And Magneto was never one to let such an auspicious opportunity pass him by.

"It matters not what century we are in," Storm said. "What matters is that our people have a home here on Krakoa, thanks to you, Erik..."

Magneto cringed as his old friend called him by his human name. True, he had gone by many of them over the decades -- Max Eisenhardt, Erik Lehnsherr, Magnus -- but they were monikers he had merely tolerated in order to better fit into a world where Homo Sapiens still believed themselves in control. Here, in this new era, he could choose a name that spoke to who he truly was. Magneto -- the Mutant Master of Magnetism.

"I may be leading the cause to find our fellow Mutants and bring them to this safe harbor, my dear," said Magneto, "but the success of this crusade cannot be attributed to one Mutant alone."

"You're damn right it can't, bub," a grizzled voice snarled from the edge of the jungle that bordered Krakoa's shore.

Magneto and Storm both turned to see a familiar figure walking out of a newly-blossomed Krakoan gate. The short, hairy figure looked as though he had just been to hell and back. And knowing Wolverine, that could very literally be the case. Alongside Wolverine stood a young Mutant, just old enough for her powers to begin manifesting.

"Found the kid who got sucked through that dimensional rift," Wolverine continued. "She's lucky I went in there after her. Limbo is no place for a new Mutant."

"I couldn't disagree more," another voice said, this one with a hint of a Russian accent. "This New Mutant has managed just fine there."

"Illyana? Can it truly be?!" Storm rushed over to the young woman who had just stepped through the gateway, instantly wrapping her in an embrace. For years, Illyana Rasputin, the Mutant teleporter known as Magik, had been like a daughter to Storm. Before she was claimed by the darkness of Limbo... Before...

"Nice to see you too, Windrider," said Magik with an uncomfortable smirk. "It's been... longer than I care to remember."

Magneto stepped towards the new arrival, not embracing her, but examining her closely instead. There was something strange about her. It was clear that she had walked a far different path than the Illyana Rasputin of his world. This child had been hardened by the horrors of war, something to which Magneto himself could closely relate.

"You are not the child we once knew," Magneto said. "But you are welcome here on Krakoa. All Mutants are, regardless from where or when they hail."

"How about people who grew up thinking they were Mutants, only to h ave their entire world turned upside down when they learned the truth years later...?"

Magneto audibly gasped as the question was asked by another woman who had just arrived through the Krakoan gateway. His gaze instantly shifted over to her as she walked forward. Her every step stirred ripples across his memory, for he had been there when she had taken her very first ones so many years ago.

"Wanda..."

"Hello, father," the Scarlet Witch said as she approached Magneto with a calm confidence that few had ever shown in his presence. She reached up and began to slowly remove Magneto's helmet, an action that would almost certainly be met with instant retaliation should anyone else attempt it. But Magneto stood as silent as solid steel, simply basking in the magic of his long lost daughter's company. His stoic expression softened as Wanda leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"How... How can you be here?" Magneto managed to say. He could bend Adamantium into any shape with his Mutant power, but these simple words were somehow nearly impossible to form.

"It took a bit of work," Wanda mused. "I'm not technically a Mutant like you, after all, which means Krakoa wouldn't normally let me through its gates. But a touch of chaos magic did the trick."

"What I meant to say is..."

"Oh..." Wanda's playful tone vanished faster than a stage magician's pet rabbit. "Your Wanda... She's gone, isn't she? I'm sorry... This must be difficult..."

"Quite the opposite," Magneto said, regaining his composure. "To see your face again, to hear your voice, to know that -- somewhere in this fast Multiverse a version of you has thrive -- is perhaps the least difficult thing I could ever conceive. It is all that any father ever wants."

"I wouldn't say I've been thriving, exactly," Wanda admitted. "I've been holding my own universe together by its threads for far too long. I truly believed that I was its only hope to survive."

"Like father, like daughter," chuckled Wolverine.

"But I've started to see the bigger picture," Wanda continued. "We're all fighting our own wars. The only chance we have of winning them and keeping ll of our universes intact is if we start fighting together."

"Speakin' of fightin', I'm late for a date with Natasha," Wolverine said. "We've got ourselves a tin-plated dictator that needs overthrowin'."

Magneto almost chastised Wolverine for entrenching himself in the petty squabbles between the humans of this era, but he paused for a moment and considered his daughter's words. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps his own war to preserve Mutantkind was just one battle of many, all of them equally important.

"Since Krakoa arrived in this future, my allegiance has been to Mutantkind alone," said Magneto. "I felt it best to isolate our people in order to protect them. But your words inspire me, my dear. It is clear that no Mutant is an island."

"Except Krakoa, da?" Magik chimed in playfully.

"In order to commit to such an alliance, however, it must be a mutually beneficial one," Magneto continued. "There are still Mutants out there, lost across space and time, who require out assistance in order to lead them home."

"That sounds like the perfect task for a Sorceress Supreme," Wanda said. "But I'll require your help. As fond as I am of your classic look, I think we're in need of use a helmet that's a bit more functional."

"Of course," Magneto said, raising his hand into the air. Within moments, tiny scraps of metal buried beneath the sand of Krakoa's beaches converged and reshaped themselves in a complex yet familiar device once worn by Charles Xavier himself -- Cerebro.

"If I recall, old school Cerebro was capable of tracking down Mutants anywhere in the world," said Wanda. "But a few arcane enhancements should expand the helmet's search area to include adjacent dimensions as well. Like you said, all Mutants are welcome here, regardless from where or when they hail."

"Well?" said Magik, her eyes burning with anticipation. "Try it on already, old man!"

The moment Magneto put on the helmet, he saw flashes of powerful Mutants scattered across the Multiverse. A telepathic ninja trapped in a strange world of unholy amusements. A king of the seas preparing to strike at the unsuspecting surface world. A powerful cosmic presence determined to burn the darkness out of the night sky. And thousands more, each yearning to defy fate and to find their place in an ever-shifting cavalcade of timelines and realities.

"There is much work to be done," Magneto said. "Far more than I expected. When do we begin?"

"No time better than the present..." said Magik. "Or the future, I guess. Wherever we are."

"You have given Mutants a gift this day, Wanda," Magneto said proudly. "Your efforts will not be forgotten."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Wanda replied. "And when the time comes, the army that you're about to gather may very well be the one that tips the balance in our favor."

"Then let this be a call to all Mutants across time and space," Magneto continued. "The gates of Krakoa are open to them. In the words of a dear old friend..."

"...to me, my X-Men."

[demonir]

The TF2 men and their beautiful bodies <3 I'm just so overcome with love for all of them and I wanted some anatomy practice so here ya go!

close ups over here ↓

And BONUS!

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 781: Three wheels!!

Pag 1

1: Ohhh... this fence?

2: He jumped over it!?

With a bicycle!?

As he was riding it!?

3: Ahaha you're lying

That can't be, Taa-kun

4: It's true... I saw it!

There's no way he jumped over it

He showed me a jumping technique called bunny something!

You said that guy is running in the race now?

Ye!Yeah!!

Pag 2

1: Then if it's true, should we go see him?

The television there is showing the race, right?

If he's such an amazing cyclist then he'll play a big role in the race, right?

3: Onii-chan....

4: It's exciting, they're arriving here at the sprint line

The race is at its climax

How does this guy looks like

Uhm, huh

5: He- he wears sunglasses and they're huge

But he might have takes them off.... he's very tall and his hair are chestnut color....

There's an “R” written on his pants

Ehh, he's realistic (haha)

Pag 3

1: Taa-kun, you're practicing with your bike yet you haven't improved at all

Hahaha

2: So... if I practice I'll be able to do it too one day?

Of course

If you fall a lot, and skin your knees a lot, and eat a lot

3: And he had really beautiful eyes!!

4: It would be so cool if someone like that actually existed

Let's find an “R”, an “R” (haha)

Huh... it's true!

5: Hahaha

6: Three people are neck and neck before the sprint line

Please look!

Pag 4

1: Because there's a small kid

Pag 5

1: cheering for me

Pag 6

1: 30m left!!

2: They're still neck and neck and the sprint line is getting closer!!

Pag 7

1: The sprint line!!

2: This year for sure I'll take it!!

3: Impulse!!

Pag 8

1: It's an “R”

A person with beautiful eyes

Chestnut color hair

3: Amaziing...!!

Do your best, Onii-chan!!

Pag 9

1: Doubashi-san!!

2: Kaburagii!!

Pag 10

1: I'll take it!!

2: Pedal!!

3: I won't yield!!

Pag 11

1: I'm right

I'm Hakogaku

The right person wins

2: I'll be the one to prove it!!

3: This is why I gained experience

4: To win the spot of number one in Japan!!

5: MTB and road racing are different

In MTB you're always....

6: you always fight alone!!

Pag 12

1: Three people are jumping towards to sprint line!!

Pag 18

1: It's decided!!

Did you see? Just now

The one who controlled the sprint line is Gunma!!

Amazing

The last speed was terrific

2: From Gunma Ryosei, who's participating for the first time this year, number 181, the two times champion of the mountain bike Inter High....

Pag 19

1: Kiji Kyuui!!

Ah.....!!

2: It was hard

Yon

4: Well, I'll play a big role in the race, so watch it!

Cheer for me!

5: He really did play a big role....!!

Pag 20

1: Wait, who's that – Kiji, they said

Gunma!?

That guy caught up all on his own, and at the end he also lined up on his own....

2: And passed Hakogaku and Sohoku!!

3: Isn't this the first time in history? That an unknown cyclist takes the first result!?

He must have held those two down with his power!!

He rode in mountain bike until last year?

This year's Inter High is incredible

4: The flow is changing!!

[esoterictboy]

to all the tgirls on my frat tboy posts yall can audition to be in it in some capacity but you’re gonna be stripped and fucked and humiliated as much as the other ppl in it so long as you don’t mind getting your mouth spat in and gettting pounded in front of other people while they laugh at you…then you’ll be fine

[widowmaker]

How do we feel about my melnem themed phone :3c

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[hauntingofhouses]

BRB thinking thoughts about Taigen's character, the TaiMizu ship, and a big chunk of fandom's perceptions regarding both those things.

(Inspired by @farintonorth's post related to this topic that just got my brain going brrrrr)

OK so let me just... start off by saying that I think that reducing stories to their tropes is seriously detrimental to the way some people are interacting with fiction, and while that honestly warrants its own post about the subject, I wanna talk specifically about how this affects the way some people in the fandom talk about Taigen and TaiMizu.

Because yeah, tropes are useful shorthand to refer to certain dynamics or archetypes etc, and they are indeed the building blocks to any story. But in a well-written story, characters and their relationships, actions, and motivations, are much more complex than just tropes. Because in a story that has characters who are more than just cardboard cutouts, their behaviours, backgrounds, motivations and all of that, are inseparable from the context of the overall story they exist in.

So like, sure, you can say Mizu and Taigen have an enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers dynamic. I also use those terms because it's easier. But I also think this is where things start to get a bit twisted, especially from an intertextual sense. Because "enemies-to-lovers" is also commonly used to refer to other ships in other media, whereby it tends to be rooted in an imbalanced power dynamic, such as oppressor-oppressed and bully-victim.

And while that's a whole can of worms that I won't be getting into because it can quickly derail into a whole separate sort of fandom discourse, I'd just like to make it clear that Mizu and Taigen, in particular, do not have an imbalanced power dynamic. They are not bully-victim or oppressor-oppressed. The only understandable reason why someone might actually think their relationship is imbalanced is if

A) they only watched the first episode, or

B) they cannot grasp the slightest bit of nuance in a character, or

C) they're being obtuse on purpose simply because the Mizu/Taigen relationship, or Taigen's character in general, just doesn't suit their tastes.

While yes, Taigen, along with his whole gang, had bullied Mizu when they were children, that dynamic does not exist between them whatsoever in adulthood. Whatever imbalanced bully-victim power dynamic that had once existed between them was decisively ripped apart the moment Mizu beat him in that duel in the dojo, and then completely obliterated by the end of the season.

Mizu is not a defenseless victim at Taigen's mercy. Mizu can beat Taigen's ass any time she wants (and she DOES, repeatedly in fact), and could even kill him if she felt like it. She taunts him openly and without fear ("I like your hair"; "I can beat you with any weapon you choose") and all he does is bark back, because that's pretty much all Taigen ever does. Time and time again, he yaps about how much he wants to kill her, but time and time again, his actions prove that all of it is just an empty threat. Because though his words say "I hate you", his actions demonstrate the complete opposite. He's shown how protective he is of Mizu, how unhesitatingly he sacrifices himself up for her, how loyal he is in enduring days-long torture to not give up information about her, how even when near-death and in pain, he's still willing to keep standing back up so he can fight by her side and help her win against her enemies.

And Mizu is not an idiot! She sees that too. She does not see him as a threat, an enemy, or even a bully. Especially not by the end of Episode 3, and definitely not by the end of the season. When she finds him in the dungeon in Episode 6, she smiles from relief, and doesn't think twice to take him with her. Mizu finds him, at best, an annoyance, or at worst, an infuriating hindrance on her quest for vengeance. Which is why, when Taigen is about to say, "It's a shame our duel's set for tomorrow; I have to kill you before you get your revenge," Mizu whacks him on the head without a second thought before he can even finish his sentence, and leaves him lying unconscious, face-down, in the snow.

And this further emphasises how he does not hold any power over her. There is no abusive power dynamic between them. She is more powerful than him, he knows this, and all he's ever done after they've met up again in adulthood is get his ass whooped by her, get mad about it and pester her and follow her around, get his ass whooped by her some more, and put his life on the line to protect her.

"OOoooOOoooH b-but he called her a demon at the end of Episode 7 and threatened to kill her again!!!" Oh my god. He called her that because he's calling her out on her selfishness to stay silent about her knowledge of Fowler's plans to attack Edo. Because to him, loyalty and honour as a samurai is more important than anything. So in his own brash-and-immature Taigen way, he felt betrayed that Mizu did not hold the same principles. That's why he got angry. He wasn't even that mad about letting Akemi get dragged off by the Tokunobu guards. It was about saving the Shogun and the Shogunate as a whole. That's why the first thing he does in Edo is not find Akemi, but try to warn the Shogun about Fowler's attack.

Look, I'm not defending his stupid ass, of course. Because calling her a demon especially after their cute little wrestling time was obviously rude and inappropriate, especially since words like "demon", "monster" and "Onryo" have had such a deep effect on Mizu throughout her life, and continue to contribute to her self-hatred. But like? That's the fun of realistic and flawed characters, and realistic and flawed relationships. They're not perfect, and it's why we as an audience root for them, wanting to see them work through their shit and find a way to prevail despite it all.

Also, him saying that was in the heat of the moment. He was angry, he felt like his initial belief of who Mizu was—a strong and loyal samurai, just like him—was shattered, and so he lashed out. Was it rude? Definitely. Was it immature of him? Yes, incredibly. But it's also very much in line with his character, because even though he's grown a lot over the course of the season, the show isn't over yet, so obviously his character arc is just beginning, as that is also the case for the other three main characters: Mizu is beginning to accept herself, Akemi is beginning to grow into her position of power, Ringo beginning to train under Master Eiji, while Taigen is beginning to simply be a better person.

On that note, when speaking of Taigen's immaturity, I think that's also one of the main things that people tend to gloss over when it comes to his character. Because when you boil everything down to its bare essentials, Taigen is, essentially, a boy. I've talked about this before, but to reiterate, Taigen very much behaves like an unhealed child. Even as an adult, he is insecure, prone to throwing tantrums, and is desperate to latch onto some material goal in hopes that it will make him feel better—initially he was chasing status/glory/greatness, and then when Mizu tells him that "Nothing comes from being a samurai but death," he immediately decides he wants to run away with Akemi in hopes that he will be happy.

And it's a big step, acknowledging that he doesn't truly want greatness, but had always just assumed it was his only path to a good life. But it's clear he still hasn't really figured it out. Because if he did run off with Akemi to get married and live in the countryside, he still wouldn't be happy. Because he still doesn't know who he really is, or what it is he really wants. Marriage at this moment is the last thing he needs, and as he is now, he would be a pretty awful husband. A simple life would be good for him, but would he be good at a simple life, when he still has so much he needs to work through?

So anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that he's trying and he is learning and growing. So yeah, he is flawed, but honestly? So is Mizu. And the funny thing is that they're flawed in very similar ways.

Because Mizu is also an unhealed child. That's why she's so angry all the time. That's why she pushes people away. That's why she, just like Taigen, is so happy when given the chance to playfully wrestle in the forge, laughing and rolling around like children without shame or pretense.

Again, this shows there is no imbalance between them. They had grown up together as peers from the same town. And while Taigen had had the upper hand back then, because he'd had a gang of other kids with him, that is definitely not the case anymore. Today, they are equally flawed, equally strong, equally skilled swordsmen, and equally bull-headed.

However, yes, Mizu is definitely leagues more mature than Taigen. But she still holds a lot of childhood wounds that mirror Taigen's own. And we see this especially in relation to her mother. Similar to Taigen who had an abusive and alcoholic father, Mizu's Mama was an opium addict and had hit her, berated her, had shaved her head without her consent as a child, and as an adult, had constantly emotionally manipulated and guilt-tripped her. Mizu's love for her Mama was what had driven her to a path of vengeance in the very beginning. And when she'd found out Mama was still alive, she had wanted nothing more than her Mama's love, and it was this alone that pushed her to agree to the marriage with Mikio in the first place. And now, knowing from Fowler that her birth mother is someone else entirely, is what makes her agree to keep him alive and haul his ass to London to seek answers.

Thus, integral to Mizu's self-hatred is also Mizu's intense longing for love and family. Just like Taigen, whose pompousness comes from his insecurity about being the son of a poor fisherman, Mizu's goals are also shaped by who her parents are. Remember, her vengeance is not against just anyone who's corrupt or evil, but specifically against the men who she believes had assaulted her mother, the men she believes had made her a monster, the men she believes had abandoned her to die and continue to try to kill her. Her vengeance is against a father, on behalf of a mother. In The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride, Mizu is not merely the Ronin, the Bride, or the Onryo, but also the Child.

This is also why Ringo is so good, not only for Mizu, but for Taigen as well. Ringo is wise and caring and considerate, but above all, he is in tune with his inner child in ways that Mizu and Taigen are not. He is always earnest and positive, he sees the world with childlike wonder, but is not naive or blind to its ugliness. His whole life has been a battle. Ringo brings out the best in Mizu, consistently acting as her moral compass and conscience, and Mizu's choice to save Akemi in the final episode is only because she promised Ringo that she would. Because it's the right thing to do. Ringo inspires her to be a better person, and to think outside of her narrow-minded goal of revenge. At the same time, Ringo also brings out the best in Taigen. While at first Taigen had looked down on both Mizu and Ringo ("Half-limb to a half-wit"), by the end of the season, he's proud to have Ringo as a friend and ally, he listens to Ringo's advice ("What would Master do?"), and asserts to the fucking Shogun that Ringo is a worthy warrior to have by his side.

Okay, I've gone on a bit of a tangent here, but my main point is that Mizu and Taigen are incredibly similar. They are equals. They are both flawed, unhealed children who are chasing some impossible outlandish goal in hopes that it will fill the void in their hearts. They also both have a long way to go in terms of character development if they were to ever build a healthy romantic relationship (either with each other, or even with anyone else). So while I believe things will be rocky (because duh, it's a story, we all live for the drama, etc), I think with Ringo's help, they'll get there eventually.