#OH CRUD MY DAILIES

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Foul legacy weeklies but melusine y/n is just cheering him on. Paimon next to them. (They’re sharing snacks.)

you start coordinating who brings what after a few weeks, too!!

honestly, you're not sure why Foul Legacy and the Traveler feel the need to fight every week. sparring, perhaps? maybe a way to get rid of any pent-up irritation? either way, it happens exactly once every week, not quite like clockwork. the day varies depending on when the two contenders are free. why they both must go all the way to Liyue as well, you might never know- but at least Legacy brings you with him through the wilderness, over woods and mountains and through any caves you desire- the creatures would never harm you, after all. all the way to the Golden House, where the Traveler is waiting. Paimon greets you happily, as always- the celestial pair never had an issue with you. they too have been thrown into a new world, unable to return home, wherever home might be. Paimon floats by your side as you make yourself comfortable, her chattering almost entirely concealing the sounds of battle

Paimon is the one who started the snack tradition, whipping out one of her many provisions to share with you. she is the sole reason you expand your palette in Teyvat, bringing you dish after dish, usually things she's been craving lately. you munch on them together, curiously, occasionally waving to Childe and the Traveler as they spar. you clap for both your Harbinger and your Abyssal monster, tail wagging happily whenever they turn to look at you. and you keep a tally of who won and who lost!! currently the Traveler is in the lead, much to their smug satisfaction, but you still delight in showing Foul Legacy whenever you get to add a point to his chart, earning you some very enthusiastic chitters and trills

[theultimatekamehamehavoc]

Random Togami Headcanon 10

I can totally see Byakuya oversleeping on accident in which he freaks out a bit cus he never oversleeps (or just sleeping in without meaning too when it's over the weekend or something). I mean, Byakuya just gives off the vibes of a guy who has a set schedule for his daily activities. Like, he wakes up at 5am every day. He's still susceptible to sleeping in now and again in this happens because of major burnout. He is in denial though about his major burnout. Makoto probably has to like, kinda calm him down a bit. Not that Byakuya's REALLY freaking out tho. Just needs some reassurance. As much as the heir wants to pretend that he doesn't want human contact and interaction, he kinda craves it with Makoto, especially when the two start dating and basically living together. But, for that reassurance, maybe Makoto ruffles his hair and Byakuya just completely freezes like his brain is a windows error screen.

Makoto is then like, "Oh crud! Did I make you uncomfortable?" And Byakuya kinda just sits there for a bit cus he's still processing what just happened. My guy is just in shock. Or, who knows. What if Makoto tries to hug him instead or he offers to. And Byakuya is just lost so he just nods without even thinking. Then, Makoto pulls him into a hug, but he accidently pokes him in a sensitive area. Cue hijinks. And by hijinks, I mean the two of these goobers trying to one up each other via wrestling. Or kissies. Or wrestling and kissies. Neither of them are winning though. Also, side note like, the image of these two roughhousing is quite... interesting. Like, it's not what you'd FULLY expect from them, but it's oddly cute. It's just the two of them being comfortable enough to get a bit rowdy with one another. Like, why is that cute? Why is that cute?!?!? WHY MUST MU BRAIN FUCTION IN A WAY THAT MAKES ME FIND THIS CONCEPT SUPER FREAKING CUTE?!?!?!?!

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Oh crud I just saw it but I'm the one who submitted Jason Webley's "Pyramid"!! I'm glad you love it so much! I wrote *a lot* of submissions and some of them were so highly personal that I decided to sign none of them with my URL, just leave it in the ether of beautiful music. But seeing your love for "Pyramid", I am deeply happy that you have been fucked up by this song! Lots of love and thank you so much for this tournament!

I am very glad you submitted it 😁💖 It's now one of the many songs that I listen to basically on the daily

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#191

“Come in. You did clock out right?... Good. Stand there in front of my desk. You have been acting weird this afternoon. You are having difficulty walking and you keep itching your ass. Care to tell me what the fuck is up with you?... Sore back? Really? I would have thought it was the fact that Kowalski shoved his Polish sausage in your ass during lunch….

“You look surprised. Don’t be. Look what you do during your lunch is really up to you. But don’t be bringing that shit to your duties. I can’t have that throwing off the work. You understand?... Good. Have any questions?... None? Really? What surprises me is that you haven’t asked me how I found out. Aren’t you curious?... No? Well let me tell you anyways.

“You see Kowalski and I go way back to our days in the Corps. We share with each other our conquests. And right after lunch he said to me ‘I just popped a five day load in new boy’s faggot ass.’ Is that true?... No, no, no. We already established that he fucked you ass. I am asking if you are a faggot.... You don’t seem to understand. Are you gay or are you a faggot? There’s a difference, a big difference.... You still look confused. Being gay is that you prefer to be with men with all that rainbow shit and all. Being a faggot means you crave being treated like shit, called names, pissed on, smacked around, laughed at by naturally superior men.

“Kowalski was saying that you got more excited when he smacked your ass. It was when he told you to clean off his cock afterwards and you said ‘Yes Sir.’ that he knew. So are you a faggot? Don’t fucking nod. Say it.... See, that wasn’t hard. Now Kowalski, he likes submissive bitches to a certain extent, but that’s not what he’s after. He prefers to fuck holes, both men and women. And that’s pretty much all he’s after. Other than fucking them, he’s not into faggots at all. That’s not his thing.

“It’s mine though. Yeah faggot, he passed you on to me. Heh heh heh. I always love this moment when a faggot presents himself to me. You want this too, don’t you?... Just nod. Good fag. Such a pretty face. One that needs a fucking face slap. Like that. Faggot, that should remind you that I am your superior and you are a piece of shit with two holes to fuck. I do it when I fuck, after I dump my load, and most of the time just for fun. I love just walking by a faggot on the site and reminding him of his place with a firm slap. It’s been a long time since I had an honest to god faggot working for me.

“Strip out of those fucking clothes. Fuck yeah. Boy you are getting me a chubby. You got a nice body there. It’s going to look so much better covered in my piss. I hope you like piss, because I love unload a bladder full on,... and in you. Oh shit that ass! Get your face on the floor and your ass up high. I want to inspect that cunt. Damn, you didn’t even clean up after Kowalski corn holed you. This is such a mess. I love it.

“Reach back here and finger your cunt. I want to see what’s left of that cum sludge. From this point on, you are to refer to this hole as a cunt. It isn’t an asshole or a shithole. Real men have shitholes. And you will never be a real man. Never. You know the difference between a pussy and a cunt? A pussy is a hole on someone a real man wants to be with. The only thing a man wants from a cunt is to get his nut off; he doesn’t give a shit about what the fuck the cunt is attached to. In other words I don’t give a shit about you. You’ve been fingering the cunt something good. Pull it out, and let me see. Fuck. You got a real good spooge stew going on. Clean off your finger. Damn I didn’t even need to ask twice. You really are a pig.

“That’s good, because when I fuck, I go back and forth between holes. And you into shit? No? Well then make sure the cunt is cleaned out. Your mouth will always clean off my cock’s cunt crud regardless of what makes up the crud. You are also going to clean up my shithole. Every day you report up here at the end of your shift, strip, and climb under my rim seat, and wait. In fact, let’s get you underneath that seat now. I keep it in this storage closet along with a small platform. You are to place the rimseat on the platform in the center of the room and lie under it. Go on get underneath. Always put your body behind the seat so that when I sit down, I don’t see you, or hear you or feel you other than your tongue slurping up the rankness of my shit slit. When you get set up under, closed the toilet lid down on your toilet face like this. Then you wait. It might be a few minutes or an hour.

“But when I come back, the first thing I will do is open up the lid and use your mouth like this. First time you see my dick isn’t it? It’s fat and hangs low right? Don’t worry, it’s a grower and a shower. Let me skin back and show you my dick cheese. Faggot that cheese is all yours. When the lid is opened, your tongue should be out and your mouth open. Good faggot. Swallow my piss. And don’t worry if I should miss your mouth. Your face, hell your eyes, is just as good of a place to target. Drink what you can.

“Throughout the day you will be drinking my piss. Not just mine but any guy on the site. Oh yes the other men will have access to you. When Kowalski told me he fucked you, he did it in front of Harrison, Davidson, Smith, and Dupont. None will use you the way I will. Mostly blowjobs. They may fuck you. They all have access to you, and you will obey them. Kowalski will probably use you daily. Swallow my last drops. You are such a good faggot.

“Now, this is the test that separates the faggots from the wannabes. After Kowalski told me and the other guys he stretched your cunt, I went to take a shit. I didn’t bother to wipe. That was four hours ago. It’s gonna be real nasty for you. Wait, did I just see you reach for your dick? I do not allow faggots to please themselves. But you know what? I’m in a good mood. Go ahead and jerk off if you want. If you should cum though, you should know I aint stopping, and neither will your tongue.

“Also, tomorrow is Saturday, you are going to meet me at my place at noon. Kowalski will probably be there, and so will the other guys. We are going to lock that cock of yours up. It won’t be of use to you anymore. Then you are going to be used throughout the entire weekend. That includes toilet paper service like now. You are really pounding that pud. You ready to clean me up? If you do a good job, my dick will churn your butt butter.”

This story is followed up in Story #240.

[swampgallows]

thread on reddit about “what made you not kill yourself?” and all these people being like ohh my pets, my kids, my family, my best friend, etc and all i can think of is how people in my life would just make it about themselves

when T died all these fake ass motherfuckers came out of the woodwork talking about how they loved him sooo much and blah blah blah. none of these people fucking took him in. i lived in my dorm at the time but i let him sleep on my floor when i could get away with it, he even stayed over at my parents house once or twice cause they knew he was a good guy. all these people who knew he was trying to go straight and recover but kept pulling him back into drug shit. the system failed him in a lot of ways too (esp options limited to people who’ve been to prison) but i saw how people around him failed him too. i, too, feel that i failed him. i could have done things differently, but i was young and naiive. 

ive written it before but when T died the main reaction was people making it about themselves, how theyre so sad now, how theyre missing something, etc.  theyd make him take the bus to his own fuckin parties. demand guest list when it was like 10-15 at the crud. his own fucking mom wouldnt take him in but still posts on his fb all the time about how she misses her beautiful boy. when it came to actual talking about T, the majority of people just sort of shrugged and went “eh, he was on that track anyway” or “it was inevitable” or “it was bound to happen eventually”, and feeling no real remorse or regret that someone who was clearly in need of help never got any. 

and i feel pretty certain that would happen with me. all the people who bullied me in high school hearing that “bead girl killed herself, but eh, she was always pretty weird” or “well she’s always been depressed so :\” or “omg did covid finally get her? she never shut the fuck up about it” or “oh THOSE PEOPLE would have just died of the flu anyway”. those people. those people. those people. hell people have been begging me to kill myself since i was like 13 years old, i would just be fulfilling their wish.

there is a lot of talk about ‘battling suicide’ and ‘raising awareness’ but we still dont use the language yet about losing the battle. we never say we lost someone to suicide, we still say that they “committed” it, that it was an act on their part unprecedented by anything else, a choice they made that was “selfish” and independent of other factors. some have been trying to say people “die by suicide”, but you dont hear anyone say that people die of depression or that people die of mental illness.

and yet they do. they die of illness. they die of mental illness. suicide is not something that happens when you are healthy. every fiber of our being rebels against it, unless there is an illness to override it. saying it is a selfish choice someone made is like accusing someone of purposefully cultivating their cancer. and yet people do that too, the way they treat substance users. they ignore what help these people need and blame them for their poor coping mechanisms or their lack of access to treatment.

yes, i know being isolated at home for the last decade isn’t the best for my mental health, but what else am i supposed to do about it? “Go to the doctor”? and what then, genius? is prozac going to pay bills? will effexor boost my resumé with more work experience? does wellbutrin immunize against covid? does cymbalta allow me to meet with my therapist more than once every 6 weeks? is a daily dose of zoloft all i need to combat ptsd? does lexapro double as emdr, c/dbt, ect, or other professionally-led treatments? did me personally taking celexa remove any of the institutional barriers preventing me from connecting with my community, feeling included, being productive and valued and capable of actually participating in the world around me?

no. it made me hallucinate and unable to sleep for 56 hours.

[annes-andromeda]

Ragnarök: Asgard’s Twilight

Chapter 1: Muspelheim

N/:  Needless to say I was left unsatisfied with Thor: Ragnarok. So I’ve decided to rewrite it as a whole, to fit my Fanon Marvel series. And please, if you’re gonna disagree, be civil. I don’t want butt hurt pro Ragnarok people who can’t accept the fact that there are fans who didn’t like this film.

Tagging some people cause why not, I want opinions: @nikkoliferous, @alwida10, @schlotzshewrote, @lokiloveforever, @miskiett, @ms-cellanies, @mentallydatingahotcelebrity. 

You’re all amazing💖🥰

Across the planet of Earth, beyond the stars of the Milky Way, lies the Nine Realms: Nine kingdoms brought together by the people of Asgard, protected by the great All-Father. Painted as the world tree Yggdrasil, the Nine realms each live on their own planes.

Atop the highest level sits the golden kingdom of Asgard, home to the All-Father and the All-Mother. To the west of Mani stands the brilliant kingdom of Alfheim: a land with rivers of sweet champagne and magnificent creatures such as the beautiful merfolk, the kind and gentle Faeries, and the benevolent and loyal elves of Light. And to the east of Sol lies the kingdom of Vanaheim, where the Vanir, sister race of Asgard, practice sorcery and magic.

The middle level holds Midgard, Nidavellir, and Jotunheim: the earthly realm of mortals, the star fortress of the dwarves, and the icy home of the Frost Giants. As for the lowest level, here sits the last three realms: Svartalheim, home of the Dark elves and known as the Dark World. Niffleheim, house of the realm of Hel, ruled by the goddess of Death, Hela. And Muspelheim, inhabited by the Fire Demons, and ruled by the fire giant Surtur.

Sat upon his throne of magma and rock, the Fire Giant looked up to the hardened ceiling. A cage dangled above, holding a prisoner with golden hair and clear blue eyes, which studied the ground below him. Large chains wrapped around his person, tightly restraining him.

Thor moved his head to look around, watching as the demons stared at him hungrily, angrily. Someone had come into their home without invitation, and they wished for an explanation “This isn’t really necessary, Surtur” he spoke to the flaming King “All you must do is let me go and I will not step into Muspelheim’s walls again. Just release these chains, is all”

“Your foolery amuses me, prince of Asgard” Surtur said, voice booming through the halls. He had a form built of rock and flame, gleaming as he spoke. His crown was the centerpiece of it all, a prize any warrior would desire in their halls. As a means to show who had fallen at their sword: the terrifying and disastrous king of the Fire Realm.

“To think capturing you would be so simple. It’s almost disappointing how less of a fight you put up”

Thor chuckled darkly to himself “I must say Surtur, you have truly outdone yourself. Chaining me down and throwing me into a cell is most unbefitting of you. I would have thought that by the time I had arrived, you would’ve burned me to a crisp for all your people to watch”

“Don’t pester me with your jests, Odinson. You know well of the consequences that should befall any who dare come into my kingdom unannounced. If you were truly all mighty, then perhaps you’d think twice of testing my rage”

He signaled his subjects to bring down the cage, the chains chinking as they moved. Thor turned his head to face Surtur, careful not to make himself seem angry, as much as he were. One minute he was off looking for the Infinity stones, and ensuring that the Nine Realms were protected, the next he’s attacked by Fire Demons and imprisoned. But all through his journey, Thor kept his daily goal: watch the sacred star, Aurvandil, for his love. His Captain. His Evenlight.

“I know of your rage, Surtur” Thor raised his voice in defiance “Believe me, I am no fool. Thousands of years ago you fought my grandfather Bor, and then my father as a means to wage war against the Vanir and the Aesir. Ever since, you’ve craved a vengeance that would never come”

Surtur rose from his throne, tall and imposing “Oh, but it will. You see, a time has come within the Nine Realms. A time when the golden kingdom with be plagued by a force so great, it should be its final stand. The Eternal twilight shall befall Asgard, and I the center of its demise”

The giant leaned into the cage, pulling the chains with his large, clawed hands. He could see the warrior shift in his place slightly, which caused Surtur to smirk a bit. Glad to know that even the God of Thunder still held a smudge of fear towards him “There is nothing you nor anyone could do to stop this event. It is... inevitable”

As he said that last word, he growled it, clenching his teeth and letting the sound bounce off the walls so that all could hear it. Thor tried to remain unfazed. He had faced Surtur once, hundreds of years ago. Who’s to say that he couldn’t do it again?

Lifting his chin, Thor refused to allow Surtur the satisfaction of relishing in his fear “You know, I’ve heard of this great twilight that you speak of. My mother would sometimes tell me and my brother the legend of Ragnarök. How you’d plunge your blade, forged from the Burning Galaxy, and end Asgard as we know it”

Thor stood in his cell, stumbling a bit as Surtur held it in his hand “I can assure you that will not happen” His neck pained a bit from having to maneuver it in Surtur’s direction “I have fought adversaries who would threaten my people, and all have fallen or fled. You will be no different. Surrender your plans to destroy Asgard, and this won’t have to end in combat”

A chuckle escaped the giants lips, clearly a sign of amusement “It seems conversing with those mortals from Midgard has garnered you completely blind. There is no stopping the destruction I shall bring. You of all people should know that”

The gods eyes narrowed, staring down the giant before him “This is your last chance, Surtur. Surrender now, and your people will keep their king. Even if what you say is true, you’d be leaving Muspelheim defenseless. Surely you’d be smarter than that”

“My people are more than capable of defending themselves. Perhaps it is you who should worry about your own safety. Right now, at this very moment”

Looking down, Thor could see the fire demons closing in him, with some crawling up the pillars of rock. Their eyes seethed red as they stared him down. Moving in the chains, he lifted his hand behind his back, making sure Surtur didn’t see.

He smirked in a similar fashion to the giant, almost challenging him “Very well then. It seems that bantering isn’t your style, so I won’t bother” With his acute sense of hearing, he could discern the familiar booming sound coming from behind him. Mjölnir came rushing in and landed in Thor’s hand, as the sound of thunder echoed and groaned.

“Have at you”

With that, Thor hurdled towards Sutur, smashing his face with his hammer. The chains immediately broke free and Thor dropped alongside the prison he was kept in. He could hear the demons screeching as they lunged towards him. With each creature coming at him, Thor could hit them with Mjölnir, as each one was destroyed in a pile of rubble. Surtur had stumbled back, falling on top of his throne and crushing it in the process. He looked down and grabbed his Twilight sword, plunging it into the ground.

Beneath Thor, the floor began to crumble and split, smoke hitting his face and fire spewing from the cracks. Thor threw his hammer at the demons, all of them falling as easily as the last, until it returned to his hand. He jumped up high, and struck Mjölnir into the floor, causing the demons to fall into the cracks.

“You know,” he began “For an almost thousand year old Fire Giant, your aim is almost as terrible as your threats. How embarrassing for the God of Fire who can’t even fit in his own throne”

The sound of Surtur growling sounded all throughout the walls, as he roared in frustration at Thor “I will not have my position as King be insulted by some ignorant Asgardian cub!”

He moved behind one of the pillars as he saw that Surtur was going to strike, using his sword to create a wind of fire towards him.

“Do not play coward with me, Odinson!” Surtur roared “Face me with your mighty hammer and know what true terror looks like!”

With his sword he blasted flames towards Thor, as the latter moved away from the pillar before it collapsed. He turned towards Surtur and looked him in the eye “It is you who should cower, Surtur!” Thor said, bashing fire demons in the process “The Eternal Flame is locked away, far from you” He stopped his punches and looked to Surtur “So as long as it’s safe, you can’t touch Asgard”

Surtur clenched his teeth, his grip on his sword tightening “For now, princeling” He whistled loudly, nodding his head for something “Until then, your presence is no longer welcome”

Turning his head behind him, Thor could see a giant fire dragon, whose chains were being broken by its sheer force and strength. He groaned to himself softly “Oh crud...”

As he began to turn Mjölnir in his hand, the dragon escaped and tailed behind him. His exit made a small hole in the ceiling, which to be frank, he did not care for at the moment. What he did care for, was returning to Asgard. Lifting his hammer into the air, he awaited the Bifrost to carry him away, back home.

Nothing.

“Skurge?” Thor asked to the sky. Again, there was nothing “Skurge! Norns above, where are you?”

Before he could continue, however, the dragon erupted from the ground, roaring at Thor. He jumped into the sky, flying the opposite direction of the creature. It followed him quickly and Thor parked himself into its mouth. Dropping Mjölnir on its jaw, the dragon fell down and crashed onto the surface. Thor looked up once more, shaking his head.

“Come on, Skurge, you pig-head” He muttered. The dragon struggled under the hammers hold, clearly annoyed. Thor has the same feeling as he let out an ‘ugh’ sound, one that his mother would definitely see unbefitting of a prince. He furrowed his eyebrows and walked in place all irritated.

“I swear to all Valhalla, I am going to chuck that halfwitted dullard straight into Hel!”

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

“Such a shame Heimdall has abandoned Asgard” The new watchman Skurge said “He’s left his post and wandered off into the Nine Realms all by himself. But do not fear” he looked over to two Asgardian women, who were listening to his words “For in Heimdall’s place the great Odin has hired me, Skurge, the legendary Executioner, to see over the Bifrost”

The women giggled to themselves as Skurge flexed with the staff used to power the Bifrost. However, they stopped abruptly when they saw that the Bifrost was lighting up, their prince’s voice sounding through it.

“Uh, Skurge?” One of them said, looking over to the man. He was currently busy turning the staff in his hand, which he then dropped (not surprisingly) “Is that important?” She continued. Skurge’s eyes widened as he heard Thor’s voice. Quickly, he tightened his grip on the staff and inserted it into the structures main frame.

“You girls are in for a treat”

A loud noise spurred as the Bifrost activated. Thor was carried away alongside the dragon. It roared in his direction, but it stopped in its tracks as the beam moved them faster.

With the portal open, Thor jumped out, as the dragons head was chopped clean off. Goo splattered everywhere, including on Skurge and the two women. The head stopped in front of the women and they looked in horror. They both shrieked in disgust, immediately running off to probably wash off. Skurge hurried after them, trying to convince them to stay, but they didn’t listen, instead running ever faster and farther.

“Well, look who decided to show up” he said annoyedly “Out of all the creatures in the Nine Realms, you just had to bring a dragon into Asgard and drench one of the most scared places in muck. And now my companies run off”

“Don’t try to scold me, Skurge” Thor jumped in “Just because my father has made you watchman in place of Heimdall does not mean you’ve earned my respect”

Skurge simply rolled his eyes “Better me than just leaving the Bifrost unoccupied. And I’m a warrior, not some watchman” He threw the staff midair and caught it in his hand “My victory against the Storm Giants is still spread by the people. And all who hear shall know the name-“

“-Executioner” Thor interrupted “Yes, oh how you love to remind everyone”

“Speaking of your father,” Skurge began ”He’s been expecting you since you’ve been gone for practically half a year. Said it is of the upmost importance and that I inform you upon your arrival”

With that, Thor muttered an “alright” and spun Mjölnir with his hand, flying in the direction of the golden palace to meet with his father, all the while leaving Skurge alone to man the Bifrost by himself yet again.

[tigerdovefan34-realone]

My Life As A Adult Robot quotes

So yeah, these are quotes for a potential my life as a adult robot thingamajig. Enjoy!

-----------

Villian #1278594 : Beware! For I will-!

Jenny : Destroy the city and conquer the earth. Yadda yadda. Let's get this over with quick, I have to pick up my daughter from soccer practice at 6.

-----------

Killgore : At last, JX-9, I have you! Surrender!

Jenny's daughter after picking him up : Awwwww, he's so cute! Mommy, can we keep him?

Jenny : Why does everyone like that annoying piece of-?!

Sheldon : She means yes.

Jenny's Daughter : Yay!!!!

Killgore : What?! No!!!! I am evil, not cute! You will SURRENDER TO ME!!!

-----------

Sheldon : Jen, before you go, I have these super cool upgrades for you to try out.

Jenny : *sighs* I know I'm your wife and you're a billionaire, but seriously, stop spoiling me. I swear, I'm going to get cavaties one day from how sweet you're being.

Sheldon : please, I worked really hard on these!

Jenny : Shelly, dear, you work really hard on everything.

Sheldon : Jen!

Jenny, winking : Though you save most of the hard work for bed *chuckles*

Sheldon : Seriously, Jen?

Jenny : Ok, ok. I'll try out those stupid upgrades.

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

Jenny : There you are! I can't believe you! Going for a guy's night out while missing our daughter's dance recital?! How could you?! I-

Sheldon : I don't have to hear this.

Jenny : What are you doing?! Get your hands away from me! I-! *Sheldon presses her belly button, putting Jen into stupid mode* hahaha, Sheldon make Jenny Calm.

Sheldon : Yes dear. Can you make me a pizza real quick?

Jenny : Jenny on that for Sheldon.

*later*

Jenny, still in stupid mode and in bed with Sheldon : Jenny wants to have fun with Shelly!

Sheldon : Crud, I forgot to turn you back

--------

Vexus : I will defeat you, XJ-9!

Jenny : Didn't you swear to stop fighting me a decade ago?

Vexus : Well, yes, but Actually no.

----------

Jenny's daughter : *opening her parent's bedroom door* Mom, Dad, I- *sees Jenny in a clothed form on a stripper pole while Sheldon is fully dressed, both in the process of undressing* uh...

Sheldon : This isn't what it looks like!

Jenny's daughter : *closes door* what did I just witness?

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

Jenny : You're so stupid! I swear, it's cute! You make me want to kiss you and slap you at the Same time!

Sheldon : Thanks, Jenny. I love ya too. *Kisses her*

Jenny : Cripes, now I want more! *Brings him into a make-out session*

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

Jenny in her makeover form : What do you think, Shelly? Am I ready for our high school reunion?

Sheldon : Humina Humina Humina Humina-

Jenny : *giggles* Oh, Shelly. You're so sweet sometimes.

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

Jenny's Daughter : My mom saves the earth on a daily basis and my daddy is finding cures for diseases.

Sebastian Jr : My mommy and daddy are drug addicts and my daddy goes to jail a lot.

Jenny's Daughter : oooook...

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

Jenny : For the last time, there is no life on Europa!

Sheldon : Are you sure about-

Jenny : I'VE CHECKED 3,578,231,964 TIMES SINCE WE'VE GOTTEN MARRIED!

-----------

That's all folks. Feel free to add more

[onemakebodytune]

didnt do too much to this in 2019 either. put a full tank of 91 in it, drove good for a bit then it then started to miss fire and stall intermittently, nearly left me stranded a couple times. so i pulled plugs and checked my large gaps and if they were burning right, did the basics and was never the same situation. eventually pulled the old pump, put a bosch 044 in and my adj fuel pres reg. fixed the problem on another track day for all of 4 laps. so then i dropped the tank and found the gross fuel and insides of the tank. cleaned the oem strainer and added a in line fuel filter so i can at least replace that with a new one and not kill the rest of my fuel system. I did however get to meet Orido-san, he checked out my car right away and said “cool” and gave me a thumbs up. that was pretty cool, him being a Supra guy and all.  currently its in winter mode and i will have to see what new issues arise this year.  drove fine after the fuel tank drop and pump. but it drove good after the pump as well...only so much u can do with old crud.  i cleaned the tank with clr and water and then dumped it out and air blew it, did best i could with what i do have. my other tank isnt that much better and has a tiny pin hole hole on top so i reused my old tank. oh well, is what it is. id be surprised if i fitted the 2jz to the car this year. i like driving it a lot, but power steering and a better motor that i could daily drive would be rad.

[mysticfeenyx]

Dusting or FML

Cleaning tips for allergies -vs – just cleaning

1)      Cleaning house – pro-tip says this should be done at least 1x a week and better if done 2x. (Who knew?? I have been doing it daily!!)

2)      Damp rags and wipe vs dry duster and whisking – Using a dry duster means just moving the dust. As in, raising it up in the air where it is getting breathed in. Not such a good thing when one is allergic to dust. The damp cloth will trap the dust. Pro-tip says an even better option is to get a spray bottle and mist the area to be dusted before wiping with a damp cloth. (I’ve actually been doing this since my teen years. It never made sense to me that a duster was just spreading it while a damp cloth actually cleaned it.)

3)      It’s not just a vacuum, but the type of vacuum used that counts – Any vacuuming done is a good idea, even on hardwood/vinyl/lino flooring. Why? Again, sweeping only raises the dust where it is then breathed into lungs that then can seize up. (No wonder I always feel like crud after sweeping!) The type of vacuum that has a filter is good; preferably a high efficiency particulate air filter. (You know, the sort that can sift a flake of gold from sand?) Changing the filters regularly is also a good idea. (Uhm … duh??) Carpeting holds dust and dust mites in, so a good suction is recommended for that 1x or more a week. (Again, I had been doing that daily and now being told that it doesn’t need done so often?? Who knew??)

4)      Wearing the appropriate clothing while cleaning – (So, I’m going to take an educated guess here that wearing that sexy French maid’s outfit is NOT what they mean!) An appropriate air filter mask (I HOPE it’s not an air TIGHT mask!!) and in some cases gloves and or long sleeves/long pants is helpful. Wash your clothes after as soon as possible to eliminate the dust particulars that cling to them.

5)      Escape to the outdoors as soon as possible. – After doing a thorough clean/deep clean, it’s a good idea to step out for a few hours. (Is this when my partner says, “Oh you have been cleaning so hard, let me take you out for a few hours as a reward for a job well done!” or is this when I grab the credit card and go shopping as my reward?) The reasoning behind this is to take a break from all that scrubbing and vacuuming but also because all those dust particles and dust mites have been stirred up. What didn’t get killed by the damp wipe or sucked off by the vacuum (Cheesy, yes, but it HAD to be said at some point!!) is out to attack your delicate lungs. Retreat is the best option in this instance! Pro-tip says, “Unless you don’t enjoy sleeping, do NOT do a deep clean/dusting right before bedtime.” (So this might explain why I don’t sleep well after the entire households line dried laundry has been sitting on my bed all day??)

6)      De-clutter / minimalize – Consider how often you want to dust those collectibles. I’m sure that Great-Aunt Edna’s miniature vase collection is beautiful, (Really, I LOVE those miniatures!!) but which would you rather do, breathe or clean incessantly? As for the soft squishy items, storing in plastic bags or plastic bins is a good options. (But, I LOVE having the squishy toys and pillows on display! That is what they are MEANT for!!)

7)      Weekly change and washing of bedding – This sounds a bit daunting, I mean, who wants to wash their blankets every week?? However, it makes perfect sense when looking closer at the dust mites nasty habits. Dust mites live, defecate and die in bedding. It is GROSS. And we sleep in that?? (Don’t get me started on some of the twisted nasty stuff that is done in our beds – breathing in mite corpses is just icky!!) All else aside, considering what else happens in our beds, washing our sheets (even if you just change them and leave the washing for later!!) in hot water and then drying in a hot dryer (they have COLD dryers??) is a good idea. Apparently, it HAS to be hot water though, because the cold water and air drying doesn’t kill the mites.  (That’s … annoying for those of us who don’t own a dryer. Why doesn’t sunlight work??)

8)      Couch cushions – Upholstery is on par with our bedding. (What? We can’t cover UP with our couch cushions??) so if its possible, remove the covers and wash them the same as sheets and blankets. If removing is not an option, time to drag out the vacuum and start applying some more sucking action. (Go ahead, snicker and get it over with!)

9)      AC and Heater filters – (My personal fav’s) Since these are regularly pumping air (Would HATE to image what else they are pumping out!!) you would prefer the air to be as clear and breathable as possible, right? Well yup. Those filters capture dust and mites and if you don’t change or clean these regularly enough, all you are doing is blowing those toxins straight back into the air you are breathing in! The pro-tip is at least every 3 months. However, in my household I have to clean them about once a month. I have animals, short people and live in an area where the dust blows in frequently. A recommendation is a “High-efficiency media filter” (Hmmm… if they are filtering out the MEDIA? I just keep all that switched off!)

10)   Hire a cleaner – This is by far the least affordable option in most households I know. It is the most appealing option I have seen however. I mean, who wouldn’t want their own personal staff to see to the deep cleaning and dust removal?? (I’m actually a bit ocd about people coming in and cleaning my house without me! I find it difficult to let someone else do it while I just sit or even leave! I mean, it is MY home, right??)

[morallygreyprompts]

Could I get a prompt where the hero and villian's alter egos are in a friend group with one civilian who is like a detective with trying to figure out the identity of the hero and villian's? Idk if that makes sense

Ask 62

I think I did a good. BTW if I put V or H, I mean that is where you would use their actual name, like Jeff, or Steve, or Barbara. You get the idea.

“You wanting your regular?” The Barista asked V as they approached the til.“Yes, please.”“Decaf or-”“Absolutely not. I need the caffeine.”

The Barista peered over at V’s friend, an amateur sleuth and H. More often than not they were the first customer of the day.“They still not solved it yet, Boss?” they whispered.“No way near,” V whispered. “But I’ll entertain them for the time being. They’re doing no harm.”

V waited for their secret worker to make their coffee. They listened over to the table near the window.“I have it this time!” Civilian declared. “I know who they are.”H breathed in the steam of their coffee as though it would wake them up faster. They tried not to rub their throbbing wrist wrapped in bandages for support after Villain had almost broken it the day before. “You woke me up at five in the morning… for this?”

“Because I’m right!”“Well, come on then,” H yawned. They scrubbed at their watery eyes. The general scent of the coffee shop was doing nothing to remedy two hours of sleep in two days.

V returned with their liquid gold and took a big swig, glad that their worker knew to try and keep it away from scalding hot. They sat down opposite H, so the Barista could see their back and any emergency signals.

“Nice bandage,” V remarked to H. “How you did that? Man, it looks sore.”“I fell down the stairs at work- a few days ago,” H said. “Someone had spilled a drink on one of the lower steps.”“Ouch.”

“Okay, so look at these pictures I pulled up from the footage of yesterday’s incident.” Civilian spread the large images across the table. Hero tried to take in the images as best they could. V looked a little more awake and leaned forward with one hand stuffed in their pocket. They held in their hand a small device, a means of sharing Morse code with their henchmen should anything noteworthy occur.

Civilian pointed at a figure with their ballpoint pen. “This guy has shown their face a few times now at incidents.”V recognised them. Another one of their Henchman. Oh snap, they were getting close. “Just their daily route and a lot of bad luck?” V guessed.

“Not impossible but unlikely. I followed them back to their address and most of these incidents’ locations and times don’t add up to it being a routine. I’m telling you they have something to do with it.”

V furrowed their brow, keeping their voice at an almost mocking tone. “Like the time you said that MP was in on it.” Which they were. “Or that old lady you insisted poisoned [Hero].” Which she had. “You missed that session, [H]. It was very interesting.”“So I can imagine,” H smiled warmly.

Whilst Civilian talked about all the evidence to show that they were involved, V typed in their message.

[ …. . -. -.-. …. – .- -. ] / -.-. — – .–. .-. — – .. … . -.. .-.-.- / [ -.-. .. …- .. .-.. .. .- -. ] / -.- -. — .– …

[Henchman] compromised. [Civilian] knows.

Villain studied the images in front of them. Staring hard at all the faces while H and Civilian discussed if they thought that the person was Villain or not. Amongst the mass of faces that were running for cover, they saw someone heading towards the bathroom, not the exits. They looked harder and froze.

It was H.

Why was H doing that? V doubted it was for obvious reasons and yet H had never said they were there. Was that simply to save themselves from a barrage if questions or… V kept their alarm under wraps and looked at their hands, hands pushing people away, hands with no bandages on despite having hurt their wrist ‘days ago’.

It was H. H was Hero. They had to be.

V took a slow breath and focused back on the conversation.“So you got a video of them fighting?” Hero exclaimed. Oh no. Their mask had slipped for a moment in the fight. Hero, H, had almost seen their face. They’d turned to the side. What angle had they been recording from?!

“I sure did. Watch this.” Civilian turned their phone around and let the video play. H winced as they watched, feeling the pain all over again. Hell, videos were getting way too clear. V was going to have to be more careful to hide themselves and their men.

Just before the mask slipped, V tipped their coffee over with their arm and it spilled all over the table. H’s attention left the video. Civilian grumbled and paused the video but Villain hoped they’d missed the important part.

“Sorry,” V said quickly. “I’ll get some tissues.”They went to the bathroom, Barista discreetly followed them to the hallway just outside.“We’ve got trouble. I’m worried that video has my face on it. Your day is about to get exciting.”

Barista nodded and went back to their station.

V went into the bathroom and typed on their device again.

.-. — -… -… . .-. -.– / -. — .– / - .- -.- . / - ……. .-. / .–. …. — -. .

Robbery now take their phone

V only just pocketed the device as the door opened to reveal H. V was sure they saw the movement.“[Civilian] is gonna have your head for that.”“It was an accident. I’m tired. Come on, grab some tissues and give me a hand.”“I got some serviettes already and the barista is mopping the floor-”

V heard a door slam open. “Get on the ground!”V gave H an anxious look. They went into the hallway and peered through a glass pane.“Oh crud,” H murmured.Villain grinned. Maybe if this was Hero after all, they’d reveal themselves.

[avaantares]

October 1

Me: Man, I’m SUPER busy, I have a thousand and one things to do this week, it’s going to take all the time I have just to catch up...

Me: Okay, I’ve worked through a few dozen emails and things, I’m going to reward myself with a few minutes on social media before going back to work

Me: [opens Tumblr]

Me: OH CRUD THAT’S RIGHT I WAS GOING TO DO INKTOBER THIS YEAR

Me: [sobs as I add one more thing to my daily to-do list]

[azurexalacrity]

Who Are You?

NAME: Zaynah (Called “Zay” for short)

STAR SIGN: Cancer

HEIGHT: 5′6″

WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME? I’m not telling, but I’ll let you on a little secret: It’s space-related (no, I’m serious). You decide what it is.

PUT YOUR SPOTIFY MEDIA PLAYER ON SHUFFLE. WHAT ARE THE FIRST 6 SONGS THAT POPPED UP?

( Let it be warned that not all of these songs contain lyrics and most of them are from video game media. Enjoy though! )

1. Open Your Heart - Crush 40 2. Final Boss Part 1 - Sonic Colors Soundtrack 3. Veldin Orbit (Drek’s Fleet) - Ratchet & Clank Soundtrack 4. So Say We all - Audiomachine 5. Clock-La; Final Boss - Sly Cooper 2 Soundtrack 6. Scorponok - Transformers: The Score

EVER HAD A POEM OR SONG WRITTEN ABOUT YOU? I never had someone written a poem or song about me LMAO. Although, I have written poems before, but I only wrote them because I was told to in school (I don’t like writing them lol).

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU PLAYED AIR GUITAR? I’m pretty sure it was during one of my teenage phases. That phase is where I first got introduced to rock n’ roll and boy I tried to be a rockstar as much as possible (it didn’t work out though XD).

WHO IS YOUR CELEBRITY CRUSH? Never had one (I never had a crush in general but you get the idea lol)! But if you were to ask me if I have a favorite celebrity in mind, it would be Robert Downey Jr., Tom Holland, or Gal Gadot.

WHAT’S A SOUND YOU HATE; SOUND YOU LOVE? Screaming. Yelling. Anything that’s really loud, abrupt, and deafening enough to give you an anxiety attack. Those are the sounds I hate. As for love, it’s the white noise of a fan! Not only does the fan keep me cool but it helps lull me to sleep! ^-^

DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS? I strongly believe in the afterlife, so that’s a yes! Although, the thought of stumbling inside of a haunted house does give chills down my spine.

HOW ABOUT ALIENS? Yup! I have a hard time believing that we are the only intelligent lifeforms in the galaxy and let alone the universe. I’m not saying that it has to be some big discovery or anything but... I think it’s very possible!

DO YOU DRIVE? I... kind of want to? But at the same time, I’m scared to crash? Sooo no. I don’t drive lol.

IF SO, HAVE YOU EVER CRASHED? Nnnope (and my goodness I wouldn’t want that to happen asdf).

WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? I read tons of fanfiction almost daily, so I can’t really say books. But if you mean a hard, actual book, it was War of The Worlds by H.G. Wells.

DO YOU LIKE THE SMELL OF GASOLINE? Nope!

WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU SAW? Spider-Verse! But Endgame is next on my list of movies to see (it’s so close hnnngh)! :D

WHAT’S THE WORST INJURY YOU’VE EVER HAD? Oookay so I’ll let this brief: I slept really poorly on my mattress in the duration of getting a new bed. My neck was oddly twisted to my right side and it hurt in an excruciating manner. It lasted for about two full weeks after a visit to the hospital and I had to wear a neck brace during that time. It did end on a good note, though: I got Halloween candy!

DO YOU HAVE ANY OBSESSIONS RIGHT NOW? My interests go so sporadic at times that I can’t even really obsess on one topic before jumping to another XD. But I have been getting more in touch with the Tak & The Power of Juju video game series (if anyone remembers that, then yay! I’m not alone!).

DO YOU TEND TO HOLD GRUDGES AGAINST PEOPLE WHO DID YOU WRONG? I’m a very forgiving person, so I don’t really hold grudges against other people. Normally, I try to talk civilly with the person and let them acknowledge that what they did hurt me. However, there are times where I can be hurt emotionally so bad that I can’t forgive the person (or be so anxious enough that I freeze the moment I see them). I especially cannot forgive a person for hurting not just me but those close to me.

But really, I’m generally a person that wants to move on from stuff like that, even if that horrific event traumatized me. I like to see the bright side of things, so I try my best to move on and go on with my life even I’m scarred by that event.

IN A RELATIONSHIP? Nope! I am aro, I am a single pringle, and I am proud of it (oh crud... now I want pringles oof).

Tagged By: @allnostalgic ( Thanks Miz! <333 ) Tagging: @gcrminator , @sonicheroesnvillains , and anyone who wants to!~

[the-twinventors]

📱// Was thinking, shall we have Starlight in uni and they all know each other but not much? Can make it an AU?

First Meetings Meme:

📱 For my muse to accidentally send yours a text.

Jayce idly tapped his fingers on the table out on the quad, flicking through his phone in boredom. Stella had vanished to go get their daily dose of coffee, and she seemed to be taking her sweet time. Hopefully she hadn’t run into anyone who might decide to pick on her while she was alone… with that thought in mind, he tapped through his phone and fired off a quick text.

[txt] hey sis, you OK? just wanna make sure you didn’t get jumped.

After hitting the send button, he tapped off the conversation, taking a moment to view his list of conversations. It was only while doing this that he realised that he hadn’t texted his sister, but had accidentally mistexted someone else. Whoops. Quickly he sent another text in apology.

[txt] oh crud, wrong number! sorry dude!

Satisfied, he then went to actually text Stella. He had to make sure she was alright and hadn’t been waylaid by their peers.

[dipperdesperado]

Writing Story Collection Chapter 1 - Enter, Sandra Nantucket

Just so you're aware, this is all of my 0 draft version of chapter 1 (for the story collection project). The whole thing. So it's very long. buckle in lmao.

Sandra straightens her tie and checks her teeth on her Apple Watch. No eggs or bacon bits from this morning. Good. Maybe I should brush my teeth before eating, just to be sure. She looks over to the cameraman, cupping her hands over her eyes like a kid to block out the studio lights. "How much longer do we have? 5 Minutes?"

"More like 5 seconds," he replies, his tone like the verbal version of rolling his eyes.

"Shit."

Sandra straightens up one more time, as the live countdown slides to 0. As soon as the red dot flashes on, she switches into game mode.

"Good morning everyone, and welcome to Channel 17 News! Let's get started with the weather. Y'all are in for a treat--today's the nicest day of the week! We're going to see some bright, clear skies, high air quality, and a nice, moderate temperature of 70 degrees with low humidity. Now, this will be a summer day to remember. Next up, we have 'What's Happenin', the show where you can see all of the coolest stuff going on in the city! This has been Sandra Nantucket, with your daily news reports."

The red light dims to black, and Sandra does a big sigh.

The cameraman throws her a sly smile."Good work kid, I almost believed your enthusiasm."

"Well--if my acting almost went undetected to you, then the people at home definitely ate it up." Sandra scratches her ear. Her eyes are vacant as she checks her finger for crud.

As she starts to mentally leave the material plane, Zoe, the world's coolest production assistant, jubilantly rushes toward her.

Zoe whips out a handheld notepad and an expensive-looking felt-tip pen that smells of lavender. "Hello Ms. Nantucket, I'd love to get a head start on ordering lunch for everyone. What would you like? I'll be ordering from That Asian-American fusion place the team likes."

"Oh...can I get the Sichuan sandwich, please? And make sure it's extra spicy!" Sandra says, leaning in to watch Zoe write.

As soon as Zoe finishes writing, she turns heel and starts to dash off towards the exit. "You were the last order, so I'm gonna go place the call and pick it up! See ya!"

Sandra laughs and slips her a genuine smile. "Thanks for all that you do, Zo! Also, don't call me 'Ms.', it's weird! We're basically the same age, you don't have to be so formal!"

Zoe glances back to acknowledge Sandra, then bolts out of the door.

***

The cafe is quiet, as people scroll through their phones, silently waiting for their food delivery angel. Some asswipe has their ringer on, so all Sandra can hear is the *click click click swoosh* over and over again. Looking to see who it is, she sees that it's the cameraman. Of course.

Even when he's quiet, he can find a way to be obnoxious. Okay, that's a little mean. Maybe I'm just hangry.

From the hall, the distinctive sound of rubber wheels rolling across linoleum can be heard. Everyone looks towards the door. Meal time. One of the other reporters rushes towards the door as the sound becomes more pronounced, and opens it, revealing Zoe. One arm is full of food bags, and another arm drags her cart that has the rest. That same jubilant expression rests on her face.

"I bring major sustenance to a starving crew! Come grab your bags, they're all labeled," she says, as people crowd around her.

Sandra grabs her food, gives Zoe a wink, and sits down. As she opens her bag, the spicy aroma dances around, finding its way to her nose. Breathing it all in, her mouth waters. opening the actual box with the food, steam rises; the kind that would fog her glasses up if she had them on instead of contacts. This is heaven. Sandra gets ready to take her first bite when she's interrupted by Grohl, one of the other reporters.

He slides up a chair to her table. "Hey, Sandy."

"Hi, GG." She mumbles, proceeding to continue her bite.

"Is it good?"

Sandra doesn't respond, only giving him a look.

"Well, I'm glad. Anyway, what're you doing this weekend?"

"I'm planning for a protest that I'm going to be speaking at this weekend," she responds, in between muffled bites.

Grohl raises his eyebrow. He leans in a little, and Sandra gets a whiff of his cologne. The strong scent does not mix well with her spicy sandwich. Great. This smell is gonna ruin my appetite.

Sandra swallows and wipes her mouth. "Would it be cool if I just ate? I like being able to have time to just...think every once in a while." She chucks him a soulless smile, adorned with bits of chicken and lettuce.

Grohl kisses his teeth. "Hmm. okay. Have fun, saving the world or...whatever. See ya." He drags the chair back and sits at one of the big group tables. Sandra hears murmurs; some stuff about kids, their favorite bars, and whatever plans Grohl was going to try and rope her into. Shit she couldn't care less about. She looks down at her watch.

12:47pm. Maybe I'll work from home for the rest of the day.

***

Sandra's rideshare stops a block away from her apartment complex. Thank God I finally made it home. "Thanks for the ride. Here you go." Sandra hands the driver some cash.

The driver reaches back, but stops himself. "You know you can tip through the app, right?" He's craning his neck, almost making eye contact, but not quite.

She nudges his hand with the bills. "Yeah, but I don't know if the app takes a cut, or how long it takes you to get the money. Also, who knows when you might need some cold hard cash."

"Fair enough. Thank you, I appreciate it." He takes the bills.

Sandra gets out of the car, and navigates to her apartment. As her door creaks open, a small tabby cat squeezes through, meows, and brushes against her leg.

"Oh Andie, you can't wait until I get inside? Come here," she says, bending down and picking her up. "Did you miss me?"

Andie climbs up her arm and perches on her shoulder. Fully opening the door and walking in, the smell of slightly incensed air combined with the pulpy, papery smell of newspaper takes residence in her nose-holes. Home, sweet home. She chucks down her bag, kicks off her shoes, and puts her arm out over the couch. Andie jumps down, and Sandra jumps over. The cushions give a little bit too much, and she has to wiggle a bit to get back upright.

She sees that Andie is just starting at her, tail waving. "Pretend you didn't see that."

Sandra grabs the remote and turns on the TV. It's on Channel 17. The TV plays the top headlines around the nation. Rising Gas prices...Inflation...

"Does anyone even watch this?"

Andie meows.

"That's what I thought," Sandra replies.

After a couple more depressing minutes of news reporting, an emergency broadcast icon hijacks the TV. Sandra wakes up, the droning of the TV becoming more obvious to her. A reporter appears on the screen; someone she doesn't recognize. The icon in the corner is the state emergency department. She decides to turn the volume up.

The reporter looks ahead, a solemn expression on his face. "The conflicts in the Northern part of the state have increased exponentially in the past handful of months."

Sandra responds. "No shit! Get on with it!"

The reporter continues. "We have just received word that some people who call themselves 'agents of peace' have been organizing as fronts to distract and weaken military presence, leaving it vulnerable to terrorist attacks."

The screen cuts to a video feed of a protest rally, in which the protesters are arguing with the military police, and then one of them kicks a riot shield. The video then goes fuzzy, and when it comes back, they are in open melee combat with one another. Another cut--many of the protesters are bagged and tagged.

Sandra stares in disbelief. A single salty tear falls into her agape mouth. Shit. I was there. I passed out masks and protective gear. I told everyone to run when shit started to hit the fan. And now, they're editing the footage to make it seem like we were the aggressors.

"This isn't all of the footage," the reporter says, with the footage cutting to the inside of the building. "While the rioters were outside distracting our brave military, the hand of truth, a terrorist organization led by a radical known only as SLASH, broke in and stole classified documents on other military encampments around the area. If you have any information on any of the rioters and soldiers, then you can reach out at the number on the screen."

Sandra has a pit in her stomach. She can feel the sweat under her armpits sticking to her shirt, and the tenseness of the muscles. Her heart is pumping so hard, she can feel it in her throat. This can't be happening. What happened to the people they captured? Will they be able to tell anyone what happened? Fuck. Fuuuuuck. No...

Andie meows, shocking Sandra out of her spiral. She starts pawing at her hand.

"You're right. I should calm down. Getting worked up like this doesn't change the situation."

Sandra stretches turns off the TV and gets up to take a shower. While showering, she has an epiphany. If I can prove that there's a trend upward of violence and retaliation, then I have nothing to worry about!

She hops out of the shower and goes to the dining table. Covered in scraps of paper, she wades through it to find clippings of similar reports. Violent outbursts of protesters claiming to be peaceful. The footage always follows the same structure. The protesters get heated, they attack the military police and are met with overwhelming force. She gathers all of the information that she can and puts it in a folder. I'll need this for tomorrow.

***

Sandra comes into work with a clip to her walk. She has determination in her eyes. Her stomach turns, a combination of excitement, fear, and anxiety. A potent mix. This has to go well. I can't screw this up.

She waves at the desk clerk and walks straight to the office of the owner of the station. On her way, people see her folder, bursting at the seams with her news clippings. Grohl makes some comments about how she looks, but she ignores them. She's on a mission. A woman in motion stays in motion.

Once she makes it to the boss's office, she's stopped by Zoe. "Hey, Ms.-Sandra! How are you?"

Sandra's eyes are fixed on the inside of the office. "Hi, Zo. Hey, I need to talk to Soule, so if you'll excuse me." Her voice is flat, almost robotic. She starts to reach for the door.

Zoe juts her body in between Sandra and the door, causing Sandra to look down, straight into Zoe's eyes. "Hi," she says, her voice wavering.

"Zoe. Please, This is important." Sandra can feel her determination waning. "I need to talk to him, like...now. Trust me, you won't get in trouble."

After a few intense seconds, Zoe moves out of the way. Sandra swings the office door open, guns blazing. "Soule, I have something I need to tell you!"

There's two suited-up, old dudes that turn around and stare. The only thing stronger than their looks of disbelief is their rustic cologne.

Soule looks like he's trying to hold back a laugh. "Sorry about this, fellas. Sandra--is everything all good? You sleeping okay?"

"Hey, 'fellas'," Sandra says, staring deeply into the eyes of the two men, "We need the room. It's a life or death emergency."

They look at Soule, then back at Sandra. Soule gestures them out of the room, and they reluctantly obey. "We'll continue this chat later! make a time on my calendar! Zoe will see you out!"

Zoe peeks her head into the room, then quickly ducks out once they all make eye contact with her.

"So, what did you want to talk about, Sandra? You know you have to make meetings, just like everyone else."

"I wouldn't be making a big deal out of something that isn't a big deal, okay? I came in here right now because I need to talk to you, right now." Sandra stands up, the bursting folder in her hands.

"What's all that?" Soule asks.

"It's evidence," she replies. "I'm sure you saw the news last night?"

Soule nods.

Sandra continues. "Well, they lied. I can prove it with these scraps." She places the folder on his desk and opens it up. "Look. All of these other situations had the exact same flow to them...like it was planned to be told in this way. Like writing an outline for an article."

Soule looks over the scraps. "Sandy, I see what you're saying, I really do, but this feels...circumstantial at best. You have no way to prove this!"

"I was hoping you'd say that!"

"You were?"

Sandra walks to the corner next to Soule's desk and plops down. Soule turns around to face her. "I've been a weatherwoman for way longer than I ever thought. I know that people need to know how many layers they'll need, but issues like these are the ones I really care about!" She wildly gestures to the scraps laid out over the desk. "I want to be able to explore the possibility of something that could go way deeper than just me and what I can do alone. I want to find and unearth real truth."

Soule smiles. "I'm still waiting for the ask."

"You're still impatient as ever." Sandra stands up and walks back to the front of his desk. She leans in. "Let me build a team, and we'll go out, hitting the ground, to get real accounts on what is happening."

"Hmm... You seem very passionate about this, and you've done a lot of work in this space. I like it. You know this is going to be a gamble, right?"

"So, does that mean you're going to let me do it?"

"Knowing you, you'd try to do it yourself anyway. At least like this, The station can reap the rewards if this turns out to be something."

"And if not?"

"Then you'll be dead, and I won't have to worry about you."

After a long silence, Soule starts historically laughing.

"You're a riot, Soule."

"Takes one to know, kid."

[grnils]

THE WOMB 

Oh god, that time when the woman in the car called me a fucking monkey! Or that other time when that dude trapped me and slapped me in the face after I took my priority on the priority lane. And the three times people spat in my face. Or when that friend told me it was all my own fault. Why am I still living here? I will always be treated like this. A victim of my own skin colour.[1] Siri, can you tell me where I belong? [8]

The hypercortex, mind in the Net, needs shelter.[2] Back to the seed, to the egg, to the womb.[3] There, in the womb, it is best insured.[4] Fear exists for a good reason, it protects you from danger. But you are not in danger now, you are safe. So, get comfortable, lie down or sit up with a straight back, and with each breath, your body gets into a deeper state of relaxation.[5] I'll be there to comfort you.[6] Comfort is the new Justice.[7]

Your eyes roll back, you find yourself in a state of floating, state of suspension. The daily crud, the sediments of society, residual sentiments, flaking of as one enters, as one leaves the public grounds. You transcend the negativity.[12] A warm feeling, vital fluids, vitality itself, embracing ones body. Entering the womb, protected by the amnion, breathing pure life. Full enclosure, abundance of comfort, muffled sounds, a maternal experience. Safety in its purest form. The peace of paradise in the uterus.[12]

An emotive stimulant, changing endocrinal discharges and biochemistry[9], the house is the successor to the womb. [10] That is your consolation.[11]

The ability of certain compounds to disturb the growth and development of an embryo or foetus (teratogenicity) are the biggest concerns.[13] The close attachment and freely intercommunicating blood vessels between the modified embryo and [14] the house. The amnion creating a barrier, shielding the embryo from outside stimulants, yet communicative.