#Pit Bulls Unleashed

[maxemilianver]

max verstappen the petty bitch you are

[3liza]

comment section on one of the pit bull conspiracy websites. this commentor Nunzia wrote a limerick about a child getting killed by a roving pack of dogs a couple replies up. butter-yellow golden retriever with white pantaloons. all of these people are insane and the barely-concealed racism crops up in about 40% of their comments

im not a pibble mommy type either, large dogs are dangerous as hell including my angelic gsd-lab mix whom i would not leave unattended or unleashed around small children or the elderly because im not an idiot, but the "science" about "dangerous pit bulls" is just complete nonsense in ways that have already been exhaustively described by people with more time than i do. and, it's racist. not against dogs, i mean it is an actual racist edifice and one of the expressions of antiblack sentiment in the usa and canada that goes largely unquestioned

[dalliansss]

Hunger

Requested by @nobunsonpesach Collab AU with @skaelds Context: Set in the overarching AU of [Blood in the Mouth], somewhere between A Ruined Thing and Where The Wind Whispers Foe

Death throes are fascinating. 

Especially when one is in such close proximity to it; for example, fangs stuck in the prey’s neck, arms wrapped around said prey in a death-hold, to prevent further struggle. One could almost hear the tell-tale weakening of the heartbeat, the strained flutter, the drum beats and the drummer losing the last legs of its strength. And then the Great Shudder, as Finrod liked to call it – the Great Shudder where everything seems to hang on the brink for a few seconds, and then the Stillness. For ordinary elves, of course, it meant respite at last, the fëa escaping the ruined hröa so the spirit may flee to Mandos and there await and recover. For orcs and men, there is nothing beyond the Stillness. They are gone. Just like that.

Finrod drops the dead prey on the floor. It is an orc, with blackish skin pockmarked with scars from battle or the common pox they have here in the pits of Angband – yet scars are sometimes indistinguishable on the orcs. Round, star-burst, gashes that could very well be from weapons and also the teeth of the werewolves and wargs. Distinction is sometimes not needed in a place called Angband. 

The orcs give him a wide berth. Shrieking and howling and hissing, Finrod, Agarogol, had descended on this orc pit with no warning. Some days prior he had been unseen anywhere in Angband, and of course the truth of the matter is that Mairon had decided to play one of his cruel games on him again. The maia had baited him with some newly-made bracelets, taunting him, asking him to beg to have the pieces of jewelry given. When Finrod flatly refused to play the game, Mairon beat him to an inch of his life, locked him in a dungeon and left him there without blood for as long as he could be left.

By now, Finrod understood a few useful things about his new hröa. He could slow his own metabolism by withdrawing his mind inward, withdrawing far enough that the body runs on the littlest energy possible. It makes him resemble a true corpse; no pulse, no heartbeat, but his consciousness is withdrawn as little as possible, ready to spring back in optimum circumstances. But the thing is, when there is an injury to be healed, he cannot manage this simple trick so easily. His body has a mind of its own, and it is preservation and healing whenever it has been damaged. And this time, Mairon damaged him quite extensively. Broke his wings, broke a leg. Even pulled out a fang, which, to a vampire, was greater than the hurt from a silver alloy weapon or even outright silver poisoning in the blood. 

He has no choice but to make do. Withdraw as little as possible, stalling the frenetic healing of his own body, just so he doesn’t lose his mind to the mounting blood lust. For some stretches of days this serves him well, until it is about a week and Mairon lets him out, unleashes him toward the hordes of Angband that simply had the bad luck to be in his way.

And today, orc pit number 43 is the unlucky pot.

Finrod attacks, and attacks, and attacks, slaughtering the orcs and making no distinction. He goes for the biggest, menacing orc-bulls first, because they have the most blood and the most flesh, and he breaks their necks or tears their throats out, black blood and guts spraying all over him in his frenzy. Next he goes for the middling warriors, then the orc-dams, and finally the small and insignificant wetlings that offer little flesh and hurt his ears with their shrieking.

There were about two hundred orcs in pit 43.

When Finrod is done, none are left.

Again he discovers something about his modified hröa. It swells. Like a grotesque balloon, his skin, his flesh, stretches and stretches, until he falls onto his back in the midst of the bloody pit, for now unrecognizable and burdened, his flesh and skin distended to its limits, making him look like a gray-fleshed leech. 

If someone took a needle on him, he might very well have popped.

Finrod lays there, mind lost in the blissed-out high of post-feeding, for now incapable of coherent thinking. He is a glutton, a creature of Melkor, Gorthaur, Mairon– he is no elf, this is for certain. The elf perished in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, going against that werewolf. The elf…

He has no idea how he remains there, laying on his back in the midst of the pit, surrounded by carnage. Coherency returns slowly, sluggishly, like old blood creeping in the vein. He struggles to get up, hindered by his own sudden girth. The dried blood is sticky on his skin, and his claws are caked with flesh and marrow underneath. He manages to sit up, weight down flabbed-down arms. His belly is distended, a great, dark-veined thing. As if a monster got him with child. Even his legs are swollen. Even his face feels full, swollen even upon the cheeks. His skin stretched tight, emphasizing the dark veins. 

A monster.

Wasn’t he the ‘fairest and most loved of the House of Finwë’?

Where were the Valar who pronounced such great and beautiful things about him when he was born?

Where was Ulmo?

Why did Ulmo allow him to become this, when he did as asked, obeyed as well as he could, despite his flaws?

Where was the help for him?

Swear an oath of abiding friendship and aid, and then this is what he gets in return? Served unto the Enemy on a silver platter?

Or maybe there was no help in the first place. He was a pawn. Pawns merely obeyed without question, did as they were told. First told to be kind, then obey these Dooms, stick to this way of life, and then…

He hears the tink of jewelry. He can’t get up, his body too burdened by its sudden, great weight. His mind refuses to understand things more than two’s or three’s. The temperature around the pit increases, and Finrod squirms feebly against his Maker’s approach. Even as Sauron – Gorthaur – comes to a stop before him, he stays where he is, sitting, weight down his arms, his great stomach wobbling with every unneeded breath he takes.

“Look at you,” Mairon croons. “You’re a great leech, swollen with blood and flesh. Mine creature who cannot even best his own instincts.”

Finrod lets the words pass from one ear to another, ignored. Thinking is painful. The blood high is slow to recede, and once it does, he knows it will leave him bereft.

Mairon tsks with disapproval. He walks around him, jewelry tinking against each other. Then he grabs Finrod by the jaw, and he delights how his fingers sink into the fat flesh. He grips him tighter, and Finrod spits out a wad of blood toward the úmaia’s face.

Mairon pulls back and back-hands his fledgling across the face in return. Finrod falls back, flesh jiggling. Mairon harrumphs cruelly and sneers down at him.

“Let’s see how many hours you stay like this, my great swollen leech. I will give you twelve hours. If in twelve hours you do not return to your beauteous form, then, there will be quite some price to pay.”

Likely another round of starvation, and another round of gluttonous frenzy, until his hröa learns to dwindle itself faster, the trauma triggering the metabolic response. 

Finrod says naught. He curls in on himself, and Mairon laughs and laughs.

[its-avalon-08]

lando norris x reader part2

part 2 guys <3 themes- enemies to lovers flirty interactions female Formula1 driver

Chapter 2 - Queen of the Pits

The first practice session crackled with anticipation. Cameras followed Y/N's every move, eager to capture the prodigal daughter's return. As she strapped herself into the RB19, a familiar thrill flooded her system. This was what she lived for, the roar of the engine, the wind whipping through her hair, the world blurring into a kaleidoscope of speed and adrenaline.

The tires met the tarmac, and Y/N was gone. Her driving was textbook perfect, yet imbued with an audacious flair that left seasoned veterans speechless. She pushed the car to its limits, shaving seconds off Lando's time with each lap. In the garage, Max watched, a satisfied glint in his eye. He knew Y/N's raw talent, but witnessing it unleashed against Lando filled him with a strange mix of amusement and…pride?

Lando, meanwhile, sputtered with frustration. His meticulously planned practice was thrown into disarray by Y/N's effortless dominance. His frustration manifested in aggressive maneuvers, borderline reckless, that had even the ever-optimistic Daniel Ricciardo frowning.

After the session, the paddock buzzed. Y/N was the star of the show, swarmed by reporters and rival drivers alike. They loved her – her quick wit, her dry humor, and the genuine kindness that shone through her steely exterior. She signed autographs with a wink, cracked jokes with Sebastian Vettel, and offered encouraging words to the rookies, all while radiating an unshakeable confidence that had even Lewis Hamilton raising an eyebrow.

Back in the Red Bull garage, Max cornered Y/N. "Not bad, rookie," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like I might have to up my game."

Y/N grinned, unfazed. "Oh, Max, darling," she drawled, "you already have your hands full. But hey, if you need some pointers, I'm always happy to help."

Their playful banter was interrupted by Lando, storming in, face thunderous. "You think you're funny, L/N?" he spat.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. "Just stating facts, Norris."

Lando opened his mouth to retort, but Max cut him off. "Enough," he said, his voice surprisingly firm. "We're teammates, remember? Lando, work on your line. Y/N, don't get too cocky. We still have a long season ahead."

Y/N nodded, respecting the authority in Max's voice. He wasn't just her teammate; he was, in a strange way, becoming a mentor, a voice of reason amidst the whirlwind of her return.

Later that evening, amidst the neon lights of Monaco, Y/N found herself sharing a drink with Charles Leclerc. They talked about racing, the pressure, the thrill of the chase. In Charles, she found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the language of pushing the limits, of dancing on the edge of control.

As the night deepened, Y/N realized something: amidst the rivalry, the competition, she'd found an unexpected camaraderie. The paddock wasn't just a battleground; it was a community, a tapestry woven with threads of rivalry, respect, and even, she dared to hope, friendship.

The roar of the engines might be deafening, the competition fierce, but Y/N knew, with a certainty that hummed in her blood, that she belonged here. This was her world, and she was ready to race.

[sspookyspoonss]

An analysis of the depictions of the Patients shadows in In Sound Mind. Spoilers.

I finished In Sound Mind and I loved it. So I’m going to talk about something I thought was really clever after thinking it through (and something people probably caught immediately but oh well). The patients shadow forms (as I will be referring to them as).

Initially I was confused at the seeming inconsistency of how the patients shadows are characterised. The Watcher and Bull are Virginia and Max’s but with exacerbated mental health issues while The Shade and The Flash are seemingly the opposites of Allen and Lucas. Then the Empty is literally just Rosemary. So why the variation in characterisation?

Then I reflected on something Agent Rainbow said in the final tape. That he will take over Desmond’s mind. That Desmond’s patients hadn’t beaten him, so why could Desmond? Then the obvious hit me.

Agent Rainbow is what Desmond fears. That he’s killing his patients rather than saving them, that he’s actually somehow a malevolent force who makes peoples lives worse (feelings exacerbated by his partner leaving him with what Magdalena said in her note ‘I want happiness’). We know that all of the games patients are impacted by Agent Rainbow and they in some way succumb to it. Therefore, the Shadows we see are the Agent Rainbow’s the Patients would have encountered if they were the protagonists of the game. Like Desmond, they represent their fears, what they were suppressing in their subconscious that was unleashed by Agent Rainbow via connection to the ‘collective unconscious.’ However, unlike Desmond, they do not overcome their shadows and thus become them, as Agent Rainbow stated he would do to Desmond.

Individual analysis:

Virginia-

Virginia has severe issues with her appearance and cannot look at herself in a mirror, feeling people are always judging her. She sings she’s scared of being lonely (‘That I’m lonely’ ‘I would tell you all about it if you’d listen’ - “A Doll’s House”) something she no longer was before being exposed to Agent Rainbow, having a relationship with a guy called Dave and a routine which involves social interaction. The Watcher attacks people who look at her, driving people away, causing her shadow to be lonely, a manifestation of her fear as a result of Agent Rainbow. This is best demonstrated by her tape occurring in an abandoned supermarket with just mannequins and dolls of her family for company. Furthermore, The Watcher’s design is based on Medusa, a woman who’s face was turned inside out and is so hideous looking at her kills you. This is a blatant manifestation of perhaps her most dominant fear, that she is physically repulsive.

Allen-

Allen has been plagued by nightmares of being swallowed by shadows since he was a child. He is so terrified of shadows and the dark he has centred his whole life around being near light. (My interpretation of Bottom of the Pit is he is so terrified of the nightmares getting worse, and seeing ‘the bottom of the pit,’ he would rather be dead, aka seeing ‘the dark end of a tunnel.’) He also seems to feel very connected to Desmond, and heavily relies on his guidance (‘When I’m uptight I call you on the phone’ - “Bottom of the Pit”). He also very explicitly wants to help people, shown both in the accident that puts him in a coma caused by him warning others ‘about the monsters,’ and in his song (‘All I’m doing is aiding, all I offer to give is a helping hand’ - “Bottom of the Pit”). The Shade is the dark abyss that Allen fears, he has literally become what he feared the most. He also actively attacks, again showing how Agent Rainbow has transformed Allen into his fear, he is now one of the ‘monsters’ in his nightmares who he worried would hurt him or other people. It also ties to his Icarus connection, if he strays too far from his safety, the lighthouse, he fears he will get swallowed by the ‘pit,’ like Icarus did the ocean. The Shade also states that Desmond ‘failed [him]’ perhaps showing even after willingly seeking help Allen both thinks he was beyond saving and was scared of that being true (‘I stay awake wondering if what you say is true, I am flawed but fixable’ - “Bottom of the Pit”).

Max-

Max’s actions are all motivated by getting visiting rights to see his daughter Maddison again, even what gets him killed is caused by a desire for this, so we can safely assume not seeing her again must be a massive fear of his. He seems scared to be fully consumed by his anger else he won’t be able to see Maddison (‘Is anger all consuming’ ‘Is darkness fast approaching’ - “Is It Me?”). Agent Rainbow makes this fear manifest, Max’s shadow, The Bull, cannot control his anger as he was learning to do with Desmond’s help (‘Even in a difficult case, progress was made’ - Rainbow Tape). The Bull also violently attacks people. Both of these things he had to prove to the court he would not do, but due to Agent Rainbow he cannot, thus his fear of never seeing Maddison is created since he won’t be granted visiting rights. He also represents the Minotaur, a beast who, in some tellings, specifically eats children. He has become something that is a danger to his daughter, something that his is both scared of being, and scared to admit that he was due to his unaddressed anger issues.

Lucas-

Lucas is a war veteran who was exposed to some primitive form of Agent Rainbow, with the resulting episode causing him to kill his friend, an event that left him with PTSD. He was evidentially close with the whole squadron of soldiers wiped out in this incident (‘We’ve got plans for what comes later’ - “Me and the Boys”) and is devastated by them all killing each other due to the Agent Rainbow (‘By a show of hands the group disbands’ ‘I’m crashing, I’m crashing down.’ - “Me and the Boys”). He can hear the voices of others impacted by Agent Rainbow and wants to unveil what the government and Mayer is doing as vengeance for what they did to him and ‘the boys.’ The Flash is an unthinking weapon, reflecting Lucas’ fear of what happened to him when exposed to Agent Rainbow, being unable to fully control himself. He also speaks very militaristically, in the Phonetic Alphabet, referring to Desmond as ‘Delta Whisky’ in his tape. This further demonstrates how Agent Rainbow has caused him in his shadow form to become the unthinking weapon of the government which he fears could occur due to his experience of exposure to the agent. It also fits in with his Cyclops connection, the most famous myth involves Odysseus blinding him to escape death. Agent Rainbow causing him to become a mindless monster means he cannot expose the government and Mayer, he is metaphorically blind, thus Mayer and the government escape death, meaning Lucas’ fear of not achieving vengeance is again manifested in his shadow form by Agent Rainbow. Rosemary also refers to the people connected to the ‘collective subconscious’ as ‘human radio towers’ (Lucas’ tape), which is reflected in the Flash’s design. Agent Rainbow has made him physically become his fear of what could be possible through Agent Rainbow.

Rosemary-

I think what reinforces my idea is Rosemary. She is the one character with a record who is NOT impacted by Agent Rainbow, she is murdered (implied to be buried alive?) rather than be subjected to it. She sings she wants to make up for creating Agent Rainbow (‘Take all that I have to give’ ‘Payment for my crime’ - “Whatever it Takes”). The Empty acts according to this, helping you. She is still herself because the nerve agent didn’t impact her, instead she used radio waves separately to contact those affected.

In conclusion, the Patients shadows are manifestations of what the characters fear the most, whether it be internal, like Virginia and Max, or external, like Allen and Lucas. The different depiction of Rosemary, who was not impacted by Agent Rainbow helps solidify this.

Thank you for reading my little rant.

[cryptideye]

why do poodle/lab mutt owners love letting their dogs loose unsupervised in their yards so they can go bite and bark at other dogs. like ajax would do this too if we let him loose which is why he is never let loose he is always supervised and we just do not put him in positions where he gets the chance to do that shit because its. irresponsible especially if you have a dog that you KNOW doesnt like other dogs. your dog does not need to run loose they do not need to be tied up in the FRONT yard to get really close to the sidewalk and all the people walking by and if youre too lazy to supervise them you can literally just keep them inside like its not hard

yes i do dislike "doodles" because i think mixing coat types is bad and i think theyre ugly AND i think their owners tend to be on the obnoxious side but im mostly using that as an excuse bc the only 2 dogs to ever bite ajax (AND our late dog argus who, unlike ajax, was entirely submissive and never so much as growled at another dog in his entire life and literally cowered on the floor if you looked at him wrong) were BOTH labradoodles and i have a vendetta now

[userm4x]

lol just coming here to say. u cud argue max's win was luck but like. those first 11 places were not luck they were pure talent. and i guarantee if he had not had the opportunity to pit under that red flag he still wud have fought his way up to 1st. shit like this is never luck. powers that be brought together the red bull strat team and his pure raw skill. that top place on the podium was calling his name. it had been too long. he needed to unleash that dog in him. hope that helps.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Uh Uh! Miss Salome! *raising my arm high like I'm in class and snapping my fingers* May I give two suggestions for the just friends playlist please? :) I already prepared a little presentation:

1.) "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam

I just heard that song again after a long time and I immediately had to think about König as a young boy or teenager. I just want to give the little nugget a hug so bad and tell him that he will find true love one day...

"At home drawing pictures

Of mountain tops

With him on top

Lemon yellow sun

Arms raised in a V

And the dead lay in pools of maroon below"

Imagine our little K in his broken home. His violent tendancies, induced by the abuse he has to suffer trough, are already blooming as a little boy. His father is yelling at his mother downstairs. König in his room is escaping into his imagination, drawing himself on top of one of the austrian mountains he can see from his window as the hero who defeated all evil, standing on the corpses of his enemies...

"King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world

Jeremy spoke in class today"

"King Jeremy the wicked" ?! That fits so fucking well, my head is spinning. That weird kid who falls out of every norm, physically as well as mentally, and who can't seem to find his place on this earth like an alien from another galaxy whose spaceship crashed here and he can't get back. So he becomes quiet, just trying to be as invisible as possible, to not always be confronted with his otherness, not drawing even more attention to himself. And if on a rare occasion he speaks in class, you can hear the giggles and whispers of the other kids. After that, every time he promises to himself to never say a word again. Anger, shame and sadness laying heavy in his stomach.

"Clearly I remember

Pickin' on the boy

Seemed a harmless little fuck

But we unleashed the lion

(...)

And he hit me with a surprise left

My jaw left hurting

Dropped wide open"

One day something clicks in his brain. For years he is getting bullied, always tried to flee from the conflicts, never fighting back. But this time instinct kicks in and he hits back, hate and fury burning in his eyes. The others don't see the freak who they pick on daily for fun, before them stands a giant, an always passive and obedient bull that just got aware of his own strength and who's not afraid to use it from now on. The others run away. König stands there, an odd sense of relieve in his chest. He won for once in his fucking life, he has the upper hand now. He will get addicted to this feeling. There's no going back.

2.) "Vermillion" by Slipknot

Keywords here are: dark, dirty, romantic, obsessive. What can I say more? (I recommend watching the video while listening, it fits the whole vibe of the story very nicely I think!)

"So fragile yet so devious

(...)

She's the only one that makes me sad"

Engel being this seemingly soft and shy girl with the pretty dresses, who no one sees. But she has that twist, that fascination for darkness and madness. And König who detatched himself from his own emotions due to all the trauma, to survive all the abuse. But Engel reaches deep into the dark pit in the middle of his chest, arms deep, afraid what she will find but determined nonetheless, retrieving his scarred heart. Holding it in her soft hands, dusting off the spiders webs and giving it a little warmth back, just a bit more, little by little, whenever they see each other.

"My Dahlia bathed in possession

She is home to me

I get nervous, perverse, when I see her it's worse

But the stress is astounding

It's now or never she's coming home

Forever"

Shit, I don't think I even need to elaborate any further here...

"I'm a slave and I am a master"

König, on the first look, is having the upper hand in the relationship, being possessive and controlling Engel, invading her privacy in any way he can and being the dominant part when having sex with her. But if we're being honest, König is totally at Engels mercy. She holds him firmly in her soft little hands and he would do anything for her.

Thank you for your attention. *giving out handouts to everyone and going back to my desk*

Holy moly that ask is long enough already. Thanks for all the fodder for my brain with the König craze on your blog recently! I'm REALLY enjoying it!

Much love to you and everyone who read along! <3

These are perfect songs as well! I added them to the playlist but feel free to add more if you have any suggestions, the link should be working now & can be found in König masterlist and the ask I answered right before this one.

I loved your presentation & loved all the details you wrote about König’s life (no matter how sad most of them were 💔), and how he feels with Engel, how his inner world comes alive in the lyrics of the songs. And this really got me:

"Engel reaches deep into the dark pit in the middle of his chest, arms deep, afraid what she will find but determined nonetheless, retrieving his scarred heart. Holding it in her soft hands, dusting off the spiders webs and giving it a little warmth back, just a bit more, little by little, whenever they see each other. "

Brb crying 😭

"König, on the first look, is having the upper hand in the relationship, being possessive and controlling Engel, invading her privacy in any way he can and being the dominant part when having sex with her. But if we're being honest, König is totally at Engels mercy. She holds him firmly in her soft little hands and he would do anything for her."

Yes oh dear god. I had (a little too much) fun writing the yandere x yandere drabble but I still think König & Engel are just made for each other! He is on his knees in spirit, forever pledged to her and only her. If these were the old myths and if this was an actual dark fairytale, König would go to the depths of the underworld to bring her back from the dead, he would rend the heavens and announce war on God if he kept her from him. It's that serious. ❤️

[muutosarchive]

omega spark-notes/portrayal info (can be added to at any time)

prized quintessence ghoul, first crafted by lucifer in hell.

in my lore quintessence ghouls are made by immaculate conception by satan, and made by lucifer.

once lucifer decided he was the quintessence of all the quintessence, he became a lapdog for lucifer -- of sorts.

he was lucifer's right hand ghoul and was given a life of opulance for a ghoul, and was instilled with pride. he was confident in all of his abilities, in all areas. he acted like royalty, he acted above his baser instincts.

he was a prized fighter in hell, and was undefeated in the rings.

he is an inhuman looking ghoul out of glamor, 7 feet 2 inches tall, with an all black, muscular body like a black stallion. he also has traits of a dragon, and his loss of hair from fighting makes his skin look like it has constellations woven throughout.

his eyes are shiny, glowing pits.

he is 6 feet 5 inches in glamor.

he has curled horns, and has many scars.

omega loves reading and often shares literature recommendations with secundo.

he is inspired by the Pegasus constellation.

he was summoned by primo and handed over to the clergy by lucifer to aide them in lucifer's ultimate goal, as he was considered a priceless weapon.

became the rhythm guitarist for the band.

quintessences are playing their position in the band because it's helping with the core of the instrumental, and they are naturally attracted to/aid the fire ghouls. the fire element is more suited to lead because of their explosive and wild personalities, while quintessences are there to back them up musically.

fire and quintessence ghouls are perfect for one another, and attract naturally due to the fire's ability to make the rigid and prone to perfectness quintessence relax and have fun. the fire ghouls in turn, rely on quintessence ghouls to keep them in-check and professional.

he was with the band and assisted them faithfully, until terzo. he'd known terzo since being there and their love affair began before he became papa.

when he did become papa the two of them were caught up in themselves, terzo in the fame.

eventually omega was replaced by sister imperator, by delta. omega was extremely depressed and offended after this, and was upset due to realizing that he was to be kept away from terzo. but he didn't know why.

terzo later was killed while omega was not on tour for the popestar ep, and omega went into a spiral.

he lost his purpose, and all aspects of self doubt were unleashed. he lost the love of his life, and his best friends & mentors, and now he was stuck here without even his maker.

he descended into the bowels of the abbey where he remained mostly feral until he was coaxed back into the fold.

in my lore alpha was the one to betray the others and in turn betrayed omega.

my omega is linked with alpha through telekinetic power and they share a special bond.

body/form inspired by pegasus, a stallion, a dragon, and a bull

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

“i stopped because i didn’t want them to chase me, but then they came RUNNING”

Omg, this happened to me once but the dog was not friendly. It wasn’t a pit bull, it was a Rottweiler. It was so scary but luckily it didn’t bite me. The owner I guess thought they didn’t need to leash their reactive dog in a public place where it is illegal to not leash your dog. I really don’t like irresponsible dog owners.

ugh, i hate irresponsible dog owners with a passion. and i hate that the innocent animals often pay the price for it. if i had a gun in my bag do you think i would have let those dogs run up on me the way they did? no, i legit thought they were going to tear me to pieces and leave my carcass on the sidewalk. they’d be dead when all they wanted was some pets, because their idiot owner left their huge scary looking dogs alone unleashed. insane.

[hockeymusicmore]

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[cherrari]

imo charles hasn't had as many impressive overtakes because he hasn't really needed to overtake? a lot of his strategies this year have relied on going long, or being otherwise out of sync with everyone. he's made some excellent moves, including getting past george today, or alonso in singapore. in 2022 ferrari was neck-in-neck with red bull, so there were more opportunities for those big flashy overtakes for p1, p2, etc. idk, i've seen charles make a lot of excellent moves this year, but maybe that's because i have his onboard open. i think he can still pull off those vegas-style overtakes, he just hasn't had a chance to do it this year.

(also if this is about baku, there was no overtaking oscar with that rear wing)

idk if i'd agree getting past george today was impressive? merc and george in particular were horrible. george was over half a second slower than charles, i don't really see what's impressive about passing that much slower of a car. and i fully believe if he'd been smarter he could've easily been p2 (that is, pushing harder at the start so carlos never passed him and then he would be the one taking advantage of lando locking up at the end)

maybe that's because i have his onboard open

i also watch his onboard every race and while i think there's many areas he's excelled in this/last year, i don't think overtaking is one of them

a lot of his strategies this year have relied on going long, or being otherwise out of sync with everyone

i don't like rating things that haven't happened and so far this year, you are correct he's rarely been in a position to overtake, which means he has not done many overtakes, which means i'm not going to definitively say he can since they haven't happened. there's way more impressive things he has done this year IRT tire management, defending, and so on that should be praised rather than his mostly non-existent overtakes

if this is about baku, there was no overtaking oscar with that rear wing

my point about baku is about how he stayed out for one lap longer (returning to what i said about ferrari fixating on going long), nothing to do with him not overtaking oscar after. he lost a crazy amount of time on his in/outlaps bcs of the dying/cold tires that was just unnecessary. the entire situation of oscar passing him could've been avoided if he'd pit one lap earlier. the sf-24 and charles are both great on tires but those mediums were falling off a cliff

i also don't understand the logic of "if we let oscar pass we can pass him later" when 1. the mcl38 is notoriously good in clean air, 2. it's baku. like of course they couldn't have predicted the mclaren illegal wing so i don't fault charles himself for not passing back, i just don't get why it was even something they considered vs. the safer option of doing his outlap at the same time as oscar, therefore lessening the chance of oscar catching him on cold tires. i blame ferrari more for this than charles though, i only brought it up as an example of them not being proactive enough

ferrari's strategy has improved a lot this year though so i'm not too bothered by these kinds of failures. like i think it did lose charles the race but it was ultimately a small error with huge consequences, and i'd like to think they learned from it

and again i'll be happily proved wrong tmrw if charles decides to unleash the beast or whatever, i just don't think he's shown anything this year that points to him being one of the best overtakers on the grid atm. he's not bad or anything but he's not sending it down the inside either

i hope none of this sounds mean btw. i truly don't mind if anyone disagrees w me in the end we're debating bcs we all love charles and i think that's what's important 😁

[robertsmilejones2432]

🗞️

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

A CRITICAL MASS IN THE WAREHOUSE

Everybody's got at least five thousand sorry swings in their golf bag plus another three thousand horrendous putts. We've got to hit them all.

When we first start playing golf, we immediately begin to impact our warehouse of bad shots. After our first five rounds, we've typically burned about five hundred sad swings and fifty pitiful putts.

I've played my last round of golf. I've used virtually all of my shitty shots. The dozens that I have left will never be hit by me.

When I was younger, still working on my first thousand, I would grow furious after each chili dip, whiff, top, or shank. Apparently, I didn't think that I needed to pay my dues. The fury led directly to the warehouse, followed by more fury, followed by another trip to the warehouse.

Around that time, someone asked me to describe my game. I said it was like walking through a nice neighborhood with an unleashed pit bull; it was mostly quiet, but anything could happen, and someone could get hurt.

After dozens of pit bull walks, it began to dawn on me that I wasn't going to eliminate the warehouse, but I could cut down on my fury. Swearing, club throwing, and green gouging began to give way to sighing, bag slamming, and tee tossing. With every diminution of rage, I noticed a slight hesitation between trips back to the warehouse.

Then somebody told me, "Ya know, pal, you can hit a lot of crappy shots on the driving range and horrendous putts on the practice green." I started using those areas a little more, but since the range and the practice green are, after all, practice, it was comparatively difficult to hit a truly atrocious shot simply because it didn't "count."

Nevertheless, I managed to burn off hundreds of semi-miserable swings and putrid putts before stepping out on the course, where the atrocities could really begin.

About fifty years in, I must have reached a critical mass in the warehouse because the laughably rotten shots seemed to occur with less frequency, and when they did occur, my rage lessened. I had developed a new mantra. No matter how deplorable my swing or pitiful my putt, I could now honestly say, "I've hit worse," retrieve my ball, and swing again.

I'll drive a hook into a fish pond at the worst possible competitive moment, and my partner and/or opponent will look at me, expecting some sort of Vesuvian response. I simply pull out a new ball and swing again.

My mantra has served me well, particularly when I'm playing by myself as nothing counts anyway. It doesn't work as well when I'm cooperating/competing with another person. I hadn't been able to figure out how I could lose to almost anybody at any time on any course. I couldn't understand how the players more advanced than I stayed two or three strokes ahead no matter how well I played.

In the middle of one such butt-kicking , the answer came to me. My playing partner had just driven another screamer 310 yards down the middle of the fairway. His drive looked so effortless, so perfect. His golf pants and shirt fit stylishly and comfortably. His clubs gleamed. That's when I heard the voice from within whisper, "This guy has hit even more crappy shots than you have."

Relaxing, I hit my drive 270. My playing partner, encouraging but with the smugness of a thinner, better-dressed human undeniably fifty yards more advanced on this particular fairway, said, "Nice drive."

"I’ve hit worse," I replied.

We walked down the fairway, ready for our approaching lesson

when I realized this whole thing

isn't really about golf, is it?

[rebeleden]

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