#Prime Skills Driving

[primeskillsdriving]

"If you're looking for the Best Driving Instructor in UK, Prime Skills Driving is your ideal choice. Our experienced, friendly instructors provide tailored lessons designed to help you pass your driving test with confidence. Get in touch today and start your journey towards becoming a skilled and safe driver."

[monarchetype]

The entomologist primarily studies beetles and is of average driving skill. The car has a full tank of gas.

The Beatles are as they were in their musical prime.

The beetles are adults of the species Cotinis nitida

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Imagine this ✋😌🤚 (Transformers Prime Wise) everyone is in the base chilling and the kids randomly start talking about who’s the most attractive of the bots (based on whatever random criteria list Miko made). while they are all going on about why their personal bot would definitely be popular they start arguing and suddenly call out to reader (who has been minding their business on the couch distracted reading a book or something) and asks them which autobot is most attractive, reader instinctively and with absolutely no hesitation blurts out the bot thats been on their mind for a while nonchalantly acting as if they didn’t pretty much confess their attraction and said bot definitely heard them. (I would love Ratchet or bulkhead, or bumblebee whichever one is easier to write for)(loved your Rodimus fic btw it was so cute 10/10) sorry this request was so long, it’s completely fine if you don’t wanna write this 😭

No need to apologize!! I'm so glad you liked the Rodimus one, it got rewritten like four times XP I still need to catch up on TFP, but I'm a little more familiar with Ratchet from it. I hope you enjoy!

Ratchet was too busy working to pay attention to what the humans were up to. This part had been busted for a week and he needed it for his next project. The talk was nothing but an annoying buzz in the background, occasionally becoming loud enough for him to huff or grunt to try and get them to quiet down.

Something about who the most attractive bot was. How childish! the criteria listed by Miko wasn't anywhere near Cybertronian beauty standards. What did a human know about biolights and kibble? The angular chassis of a tank compared to the smooth curves of a racer frame? This kids would make their observations and laugh, especially when Decepticons were the topic. Prime was called a "daddy" and Bee had "Puppy energy".

"What about you, Y/N?"

Ratchet listens a little closer, but still keeps his focus on his work. You weren't a child, and had a decent processor in that head of yours. You might have some sense not to play this stupid game.

"Ratchet."

Hwat?

Ratchet almost drops his tools in surprise. You, the only human he thought had some sense think he's attractive. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that you had been just as busy as him when the questioning started. Sat on the couch with your book, looking around, stumbling over yourself to explain. He caught some of it: intelligent, skilled. Handsome for a robot.

Miko seemed to spearhead the grilling despite being the one to start the whole thing.

When you glance in Ratchet's direction, he sees your eyes widen and how quickly you look down when they meet his optics. Shame? Embarrassment? It doesn't sit right to see you teased. Just because you can appreciate an older bot.

"What's so funny?" Ratchet scoffs, "at least one of your kind has some taste." He turns away from the console and over to the platform. Bee chirps and nudges him before getting shoved away by the doctor. "Isn't it time you all leave?"

He leans close, glaring at the kids. Miko tries snarking back about the weekend but Raf mentions a movie playing. Bee volunteers to take them home, perfect excuse for him to go to the drive in.

Wheeljack heads out with them, raising an optic ridge at the medic as he passes by. It's just the two of you left. Ratchet shift, glancing back at you. You don't look at him, sitting back on the couch with your book. Body tense and heated. Trying to look casual and relaxed and clearly anything but.

He vents out and looks back at his project, then at you again. "So... got a thing for old bots huh?"

You hunch down, gripping your book tighter. "Ratchet, I-"

"You uh… sticking around?" He interrupts, "I could use some help."

You peek up over your book. Ratchet had you help a couple times, small hands being able to reach places. And again, being the only human in this base that he thinks has a lick of sense.

"Sure... Yeah..." You put the book down and smile.

Ratchet smiles back, offering his servo for you to climb on.

[doctorsilverhead]

Hello. I really like your stories. You can write something with Optimus Prime Bay, please? Thank you very much in advance. :)

Between Metal and Mayhem (Bayverse Optimus X Human Reader) Oneshot!

Summary: You’re a street racer, living life in the fast lane, until a mysterious semi-truck (Optimus) ends up in your garage with battle damage. You patch him up without knowing who he really is—until the Autobots come knocking.

Warnings: none.

Word limit: 718 words

The first time you saw him, he was half-dead on wheels.

A massive red and blue semi-truck, battle-scarred, barely holding together, rolled into your garage at two in the damn morning. You’d been working late, tinkering with your prized ride—a matte black beast of a car—when you heard the sputtering engine outside. The truck looked like it had been through hell: deep gashes in the plating, shattered windows, and one side dented like it had taken a direct hit from a wrecking ball.

"Whoa," you muttered, circling the vehicle. "You get into a fight with a freight train?"

Silence.

You frowned. No driver in sight. Odd, but you’d dealt with stranger. The city’s underground racing scene wasn’t exactly known for law-abiding citizens, and you’d had your fair share of mystery clients before.

Sighing, you grabbed your tools. "Alright, big guy. Let’s get you fixed up."

A week later, your garage was starting to feel… watched. Maybe it was paranoia, or maybe it was the sentient truck you’d unknowingly adopted.

You didn't know Optimus was listening when you got into an argument with your least favorite racer, Joshua. The guy was all ego, no skill, and he had a bad habit of running his mouth.

"You’re seriously entering the next race?" Joshua scoffed, arms crossed. "Please. The only thing you’re good at is talking big."

You leaned against your car, smirking. "You’re right, I do talk big," you admitted. "But at least I can back it up. You, on the other hand? Last time we raced, you wiped out so hard I thought you were auditioning for a Fast & Furious crash scene." Joshua his pride taken down, exited from your garage muttering some curse words.

A low chuckle rumbled from behind you.

You turned, heart skipping a beat.

Optimus had been silent this whole time, parked like an ordinary truck, but now… he laughed?

"You find this funny, huh?" you mused, running a hand over his hood.

"If confidence is measured in words, you would be unmatched," Optimus rumbled, his deep voice nearly making you jump out of your skin.

You stumbled back. "WHAT THE—"

Optimus just sighed. "We need to talk."

So, yeah. Turns out, your truck was an alien. And now, his alien war was your problem.

The Decepticons came looking for him two nights later.

You were out testing your car when the first explosion rocked the street. A sleek, black Decepticon with glowing red optics skidded into view, gunning straight for you.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You swerved, tires screeching, narrowly avoiding a blast that took out a lamppost.

"Get clear!" Optimus' voice boomed through your earpiece.

"Kind of trying here, boss-bot!" You yanked the wheel, cutting down a narrow alleyway. The Decepticon followed, but it was a mistake—you knew these streets better than anyone.

"Let’s see how well you handle corners," you muttered, shifting gears.

You pulled a handbrake turn so sharp it should’ve been illegal, sending the enemy bot skidding into a concrete wall. Before it could recover, a streak of red and blue thundered past you—Optimus, in all his towering, sword-wielding glory.

"You drive like a Cybertronian," he remarked, cutting the Decepticon down with one brutal swing.

"Thanks," you panted. "You fight like a pissed-off gladiator."

"Not inaccurate."

You should have been terrified of him. He was a giant alien robot leading an intergalactic war, and you were just some grease-stained street racer with a death wish. But instead? You found yourself intrigued.

One night, while patching up his plating, you decided to test something.

"You know," you said casually, tapping a wrench against his side, "for a guy with a war record longer than my grocery list, you’re pretty easy on the eyes."

Optimus didn’t react immediately. You figured he'd either ignore it or give you some wise, noble response. Instead, he tilted his head, optics glowing in amusement.

"I could say the same about you," he said smoothly.

You blinked. "Wait. Hold on. Did you just—did you just--?"

He chuckled, low and deep. "Merely an observation."

You pointed at him, grinning. "You so did...flirt. Don’t think I won’t remember this, Prime."

"I would be disappointed if you didn’t."

Oh. Oh, you were in trouble.

[demifiendrsa]

The Outer Worlds 2: First Gameplay Trailer

The Outer Worlds 2 will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, and PC (Steam, Microsoft Store) in 2025. It will also be available via Game Pass. The PlayStation 5 version is newly announced.

Latest details

The call to go beyond the stars is here once again, and it’s bigger, bolder, and more unpredictable than ever. We just revealed a first gameplay trailer for The Outer Worlds 2 during The Game Awards 2024, promising a fresh adventure in a brand-new colony next year. No really, we know we’re not supposed to promise things in marketing, but the setting is completely new, so this is all factual. Just don’t break the colony again. We’re looking at each of you who sent the Hope into the sun in the last game.

In true Obsidian Entertainment fashion, you carve your path through Arcadia, a colony teeming with factions, intrigue, and chaos. It’s also home of skip drive technology and where the fate of the entire colony – and the galaxy – rests. As a daring, undeniably good-looking, and questionably competent Earth Directorate agent, you’re tasked with uncovering the source of devastating rifts threatening the entire galaxy. Talk about stakes (not to be confused with raptidon steaks, those are very different)! The choice of how to deal with the rifts is up to you. “Your worlds, your way,” as we say at Obsidian.

Are the rifts the only thing threatening Arcadia? Of course not! That would be too easy. A factional war between the “benevolent rulers” known as the Protectorate, a rebellious scientific religious order, and a corporate mega power has the colony torn apart. Each is trying to close or control the rifts for their own good/monetarily profitable needs. Church, state, and capitalism! Who will win?! Well, that’s really up to you. This is your game. We’ve said the choices were yours the whole time. See that Obsidian motto above? Yeah, you get it.

We’ve said choice a few times already, but guess what? This is an RPG so it’s going to come up a few more times. When it comes to crafting your commander, it is full-on “RPG with RPG elements” time from ability points to skill checks in conversations, to even how flawed you want to be because, let’s admit it, no one is perfect. Except those who think they are. Look at you go. Being perfect.

How you build your commander and chart your way through the narrative is uniquely yours as you plunge into this player-driven story. Whether you’re a disciple of diplomacy, a smart strategist, a crusader of chaos, or defiantly different (so we can keep the alliterations), the choice – you guessed it—is yours. Oh, and with this being The Outer Worlds, yes, you can dumb!

While The Outer Worlds 2 is a single-player RPG, you won’t be alone! Not virtually anyway. Enlist a crew of companions to help you achieve your goals. Nothing says “middle management” more than sending people out to fight your fights for you, then having them judge everything you do with a visual reminder of how much they loved or hated it. Maybe you’ll help them fulfill their dreams or goals along the way. Clearly you care enough about the people working with you to see their dreams realized… right?

As excitement grows for the upcoming 2025 launch, now is the perfect time to revisit The Outer Worlds and relive the adventure that started it all. Whether you’re a seasoned spacer or are setting foot in Halcyon for the first time, there’s no better moment to prepare for the next chapter. The Outer Worlds is available for purchase on Xbox One, Xbox Series X|S, Steam, PlayStation 4, PlayStation 5, and Nintendo Switch. You also can jump in today if you’re a Game Pass member.

On top of that, the universe is expanding beyond the game! The Outer Worlds 2 will be featured in the upcoming Secret Level anthology series, streaming on Prime Video. Tune in on December 17 for a short story that takes place between The Outer Worlds and The Outer Worlds 2. While you may have thought that was a lot of shilling, the Secret Level episode is legitimately good, and if the Board were around, they’d tell you it was mandatory viewing.

Wishlist the game today on Xbox Series X|S, the Xbox app on Windows PC, and Steam, and stay tuned for more updates on The Outer Worlds 2—we can’t wait to share what’s next with you. The galaxy is yours to explore; the only question is, how will you shape it?

[deansbeer]

full of surprises ・ VHACKER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ pinned library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

SYNOPSIS. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

WARNING(S). fluff | smut | fem!reader | explicit language | thigh riding | fingering | breeding kink.

KARI NOTES. while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars.

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his car by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

"any luck, babe?" you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right."

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

"mind if i take a look?" you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. "i had no idea you knew about cars, babe," disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

"my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on." vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

"ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up." you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

"damn baby, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things." he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

"flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket wrench so i can get this fixed," you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. "alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick." he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. "fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward."

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. "i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted," he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. "mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now..." twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

"fuck, i need you so bad. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly." he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

"slow down, baby, 'm not going anywhere," he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

"so perfect, and all mine." his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

"fuck vinnie!" you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your core. "you take my fingers so well baby. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?"

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. "gonna make you feel so good, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?"

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. "please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm all yours baby." his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

"fuck you look gorgeous taking my cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that, baby? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?"

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered 'i love you's' while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

"you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot." he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

[pargolettasworld]

So, because I am incurably, morbidly curious, I watched Jessie Gender's four-hour-and-seventeen-minute-long video on . . . well, the title suggests "Zionism, Antisemitism, and the Left." To her credit, Gender does touch on all three of these topics, though not with the same degree of skill, graciousness, or understanding of the topics at hand. I've just had a very nice dinner, and I'm feeling generous, so let's see how this video stacks up. Strap in. This is going to get long.

I should admit right off the bat that I'm only a casual, occasional watcher of Jessie Gender. I'm not a deep fan, and I'm sure there is Jessie Gender Lore™ out there that I'm not aware of, but I think I've seen enough of her videos to get a general sense of her house style. This video hits a lot of the hallmarks of her style. She speaks very fast and very passionately, occasionally trips over her own words (something that I've done many a time, so I really do feel that), and is inordinately fond of nominalizations. She's especially fond of the word "ostracization," for some reason, which drives me nuts because "ostracism" is right there. So, in style, it appears to hew to the Jessie Gender House Style pretty well.

On to the video itself. The first thing I will observe about it is that it is in every possible way a meeting that could have been an email. There was no need for this to be the same length as the Extended Edition of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003). There's a lot of padding, significant digressions, and a certain degree of repetition. It's easy to forget the beginning of the video by the time you're an hour into the thing.

The major question that hangs over this opus is: Why, and for whom, was it made? I'm honestly not sure who the intended audience for this thing is, nor why Gender felt that she had to make it. She alludes in the first half hour to feeling like she's lost the trust and support of some of her Jewish fans/friends/acquaintances/Patreon patrons, and she chalks it up to a previous video that she made (which I have not seen, and which I am not inclined to seek out). But neither the structure nor the thesis nor the conclusion of the video seem like they would win back any of these folks.

I don't think that Jewish viewers are her intended audience -- certainly not with the way she talks about Jews throughout the video. I'm also having a hard time believing that really committed leftists are her audience, either, since I don't think she's really saying much that leftists haven't already heard, or offering new perspectives on her topic(s). And anyone who has made it this far into the year of 5784 and is still undecided about the contemporary iteration of The Jewish Question is probably not going to be interested in sitting through nearly four and a half hours of relentless lecture. So I'm still left wondering why, and for whom, did Jessie Gender make this video?

Gender assures us, her viewers, of several things that are meant to be reassuring. She's done lots and lots of research, for one thing. And she's asked some-of-her-best-friends-who-are-Jewish to be sensitivity readers. We're given to understand that we are hearing the nitpicked, edited, and polished version of the script. I'd hate to see what the first draft looked like . . .

She also tells us that there are going to be lots of Foreign Words And Names, and that she and her mouth-hole have A Hard Time pronouncing Foreign Words And Names. Her loyal staff have made her a pronunciation guide -- which appears to have been used perhaps as a drinks coaster, since there are some howlers here. The Jews originating from the MENA regions are the "Misrai" (Mizrahi) Jews, the first Prime Minister of Israel was "David Ben-Gron" (David Ben-Gurion), the Revisionist Zionist leader was "Zeeeeeeeeev Zarbinsky" (Ze'ev Jabotinsky), and the Palestinian uprisings of 1987 - 1993 and 2000 - 2005 go by the name "Infitada" (Intifada).

You know that phrase "If white people can learn to say Tchaikovsky and Schwarzenegger, they can learn to say [your name from an African or Asian language]?" I agree completely with the conclusion, but I question the premise. Jessie Gender makes me question the premise harder. If she had any real interest in the topic, she would have practiced those names, but I don't think she does, so she didn't.

Moving on to the actual content of the video. It's . . . weird. Jessie Gender begins the video believing that Zionism is an evil force for colonialism, White supremacy, oppression, and genocide. She ends the video believing that Zionism is an evil force for colonialism, White supremacy, oppression, and genocide. But along the way, she's confronted with quite a lot of inconvenient facts that threaten to complicate this perspective.

Gender devotes roughly two hours and fifteen minutes of her video, a smidge over half of the runtime, on three segments that offer a history of Zionism, the iterations of Zionism as a political ideology, and what she calls "Zionism as emotion," which is a condescending way to refer to the importance of Zionism to Jews. I'd guess that her research for these segments might have surprised her. It turns out, per Jessie Gender, that there is both a reason behind and a context for nineteenth-century Zionism, quite a lot of logic behind why the Jews wanted to go to Israel, and ample evidence that a majority of Jews have some kind of stake in both Israel and some variation of Zionism.

The reason I think that this research might have surprised her is that she ends each of these segments with a small diatribe about the evil colonialist, capitalist, oppressive, genocidal force that is Zionism, even as the segments suggest nuance, logic, and reason behind the philosophy. We can't have that on a good lefty video, though, can we? The more Gender confronts evidence that there is more to Zionism than meets her eyes, the more she doubles down, digs in her heels, and refuses to accept even the barest shreds of non-negativity about Zionism. Every now and then, she comes up with a lovely sentence or two that shows some understanding of a Jewish perspective on the world, but then furiously backpedals -- we mustn't forget that this Jewish perspective of oppression, mass murder, and international blame has only led to the Evil Of Zionism, after all.

What's really fascinating is how hard she works to avoid blaming actual Jews for all of this evil. I think she's doing this with the best of intentions. A for effort. C for effect. She wants to make a distinction between "Zionism" and "Judaism," in the sense of "Zionism does not equate to Judaism, so being antisemitic to Judaism because you hate Zionism is bad." She tries so hard that she loses sight of the actual people involved. There are a lot of places where she talks about "Judaism" where what she actually means is "the Jews." Or, as she calls us, "Jewish people." Which isn't bad, and it isn't really wrong, but it doesn't quite communicate the sense of Am Yisrael that is at the heart of Zionism.

In fact, she's so desperate to separate Zionism from Jewish people that she starts to talk about it almost as an individual character in the story, with agency, desires, wishes, and goals of its own, totally disconnected from the people who created it. Zionism demands the genocide of Palestinians, Zionism needs colonialism, Zionism has a nice lunch date with neoliberalism and spends the afternoon browsing department stores with capitalism. In effect, Zionism becomes the dragon, and Gender really wishes that the passive, easily-led Jewish people would unite behind some White Knight and slay the dragon so everyone could be happy and free and leftist. Despite the two hours she spent on her deep dive into the history and meaning of Zionism, she cannot fathom why the Jewish people don't just do this.

I said earlier that quite a lot of this video consists of padding. Gender identifies herself as a lefty anarchist, opposed to nation-states, capitalism, neoliberalism, the United States, the British Empire, Israel, Joe Biden, "Ka-MAH-la" Harris, transphobia in Western societies . . . the usual suspects. Frequently, especially in the back half of the video, she'll wander off into long fantasias about the crimes against liberty perpetrated by the West at large, as well as their character Capitalism, and then remember that this is supposed to be a video about Zionism, and then finish with the equivalent of "Peter Rabbit did sort of that kind of thing, too."

One of the alleged purposes of this video is to discuss Antisemitism On The Left, but Gender . . . pretty much elides doing that. She gets close a couple of times, and she does grudgingly admit that some leftists coming from some branches of leftism might sometimes say things that might be antisemitic, and that's Bad, and it makes Jewish people feel Unsafe and Not Inclined To Agree With Leftists that The Dragon Known As Zionism Must Be Slain Heroically. But don't stress about it. The important thing is that Israel Must Stop Its Genocide and Palestinians Should Have Self-Determination (which is only withheld from them by Israel -- excuse me, by Zionism -- and certainly not by those eminently-justified-if-a-little-uncouth plucky fighters, Hamas.

There are quite a lot of lengthy quotes from Sources, read by guest stars, which is a nice touch to break up the video. The vast majority of these Sources -- especially the ones in the "history of Zionism" segment -- are not actually written by Zionists. You get a lot of academic pontificating about the failures, shortcomings, and nefarious activities of Zionism, but you hear almost nothing from actual Zionists, especially contemporary Zionists. This does not look nearly as good or as well-researched as it's meant to look.

So what do we get in the end, after four hours and seventeen minutes of watching this? Honestly . . . not much. Gender gives enough background on the history of Zionism, antisemitism, and Jewish attitudes toward Israel that hardcore leftists watching will be more annoyed than convinced. She condescends to both Jews and Arabs, mentioning repeatedly that she, as a White Gentile, really doesn't have any business butting in on these complex questions -- but that's not going to stop her from butting in like the lefty shiksa she is! She's too mealy-mouthed to come right out and say anything blatantly antisemitic, but disdain for Jewish concepts of homeland, belonging, origin, and self-determination pervade the whole thing.

I don't think that Jessie Gender is an idiot -- she seems to be pretty smart, and has both a firm sense of her own political philosophy and the stick-to-it-ive-ness to do far more research into things like the development of Zionism and the history of antisemitism than one might expect. But the video really is, to bring up a playwright from the hated West, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

[primeskillsdriving]

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[sunrisecaminus]

Hi it's me 🌻✨️

Had this idea give me optimus prime x reader headcanons (sfw or nsfw ) :>

Message - The Prime is amazing as a lover. I need to make a tier list on who is the best conjunx.

Optimus Prime x Human Reader Headcanons NSFW/SFW

Summary - Headcanons of Optimus with his human conjunx. SFW and NSFW.

Warning - NSFW below the "continue reading"

SFW

~ You want someone who will compliment you everyday and give you their 100% attention when you talk? Well congrats, you now have Optimus as your lover.

~ Bro, this guy will worry about you if you come back to the secret base two minutes later when you said you would be home.

~ Will never let you do anything with fighting or help in war efforts. After losing so many of his friends and family, he doesn't want to lose you as well.

~ You are as valuable as Cybertron to this guy, and he will obey every command you tell him…ok almost every command. If you tell him to let you fight, he would just pet your head and tell you no.

~ Do you know how hot you are when you defend your friends or the Autobots in front of him? Optimus would just be behind you, letting you scream at some guy who insulted him or someone else. He would just be there in support, just in case it would get physical.

~ If you more of a shy person, the Prime will drop everything for you if you wanted something. Knowing you don't ask for much, he would take your demands seriously.

~ If you are the independent attitude type, that man would simp for you anytime you order someone around. He needs the Prime's responsibilities taken off his shoulders and watching you do his job has to be amazing for him.

~ Optimus is not really good with physical affection in public, but the one thing he likes to do is lay his giant servo on your body while talking with you. Holding your body was such a privilege; Feeling your curves and soft skin was everything to the mech.

~ Forehead kissing? Yes please! Either he does it to you, or whenever he is leaning down to your height, you can give him a sneaky quick peck on his helmet.

~ Have you seen an angry Optimus? Holy fuck if that guy hears anything about you being harassed, he will drive you around for now on.

~ You will know when he is angry when he doesn't reply to your questions and stays quiet. If this ever happens, you will be ok. He would never yell at you or be violent…he just needs a breather to not punt the human that gave you a hard time.

~ Nah, screw the war, if MEGATRON gave you a hard time? Welp the four million year battle just ended right there. No mercy this time.

~ If he got angry with you? First, how did you fucking manage that? Second, he would be so nice about it. Telling you he needs a break to walk outside, he would think about what to do and than come back to tell you how he feels.

~ Please give Optimus kisses, the picture of him blushing and his engine revving a little will stay in your head for years.

NSFW

~ It is about damn time to talk about this, but Optimus is a freak.

~ Now don't get me wrong guys, it would take years of a loving relationship for him to finally be able to get that physical with you…but after? Nah it is almost every week you are banging.

~ The best is when he treats you like a queen. Optimus would do anything to hear your sweet moans.

~ Would it be funny if Ratchet was the only one who knew you guys got that deep into a relationship? I feel like every Autobot and Decepticon thinks that Optimus Prime is a pure man who doesn't do anything like that.

~ Keeping that in mind, they are dead ass wrong. Optimus is very skilled with interfacing, and could do almost anything you can put your mind to.

~ He is more of the soft top, telling you if you want him to do this or that. Being gentle whenever he handles you.

~ Eating you out is one of his favorites, giving your flower its proper care was his main priority.

~ It would take some begging from you to let himself be pleasured, he almost forgets that he has a spike that needs to be taken care of. It shows you how much he really loves and cherishes you.

~ Optimus is very sensitive when it comes to you playing with his spike. Rubbing your legs up and down on it, giving him a blow job, bucking your folds on him. He would try so hard not to make any embarrassing noises from how much bliss he is feeling.

~ He will always apologize to you when he cums first. Optimus feels bad when your lower half isn't cared for.

~ Aftercare is great, but after cleaning you and taking you to his birth, he still massages around your body. Optimus will tell you how beautiful you are to him until you doze off.

[thegreatmousebafoon]

( y’all this is a long one- but trust me it’s worth it lol )

5 y/o Rosie ( in a strangers car ): You said my dads where at the hospital?

Kidnapper: Oh, yeah-… he was in a car accident. They just wanted me to take you home.

Rosie: right… and um, which one is it?

Kidnapper: um… the.. tall one. Your other dad is staying with him.

Rosie: hm, ok!… so, you drive a mini-van.

Kidnapper: uh.. yes? So?

Rosie: but you have no kids?

Kidnapper: …. No, I don’t- how did you-

Rosie: hm and no ring… can’t find a husband?

Kidnapper: Hey listen here you little-

Rosie: It’s probably because your well past your prime. I suggest some surgery. Not even working out or a touch if make up will help you-

Kidnapper: HEY- you- this is not worth it- I’m stopping the car- GET OUT!

Rosie: … I know what you’re trying to do.

Kidnapper: … what?

Rosie: We don’t have a car to get into an accident with and my dad, the taller one, thinks hospitals are a waste of time. My OTHER dad is a doctor, so if he was hurt he would probably take care of it.

Kidnapper: ok well… what are you gonna do about it? I’ve still got you.

Rosie: ( slowly hold up something in her hand )

Kidnapper: … you have a phone?

Rosie: No im too young for a phone, this is a pager.

Kidnapper: oh yeah? And who are you gonna page?

Rosie: my dads. About 45 seconds ago.

Kidnapper: …

Rosie: judging by your complete lack of skills, you where not hired by any of my parents various enemies, therefore you do not know who they are. I’ve been sending them Street names so they know where we are. I say you have about ( checks her hello kitty watch ) 15 seconds until they get here.

Kidnapper: …

Rosie: since we have some time, here are some critiques of your technique. First of all, actually do some research before you go into-

Kidnapper: you’re giving me advice? Shouldn’t you want to prevent me from doing this again-

Rosie: oh well, one of my dads, Sherlock Holmes by the way, in case you’ve heard of him, hasn’t had a case in a week and he’s just about lost his mind. If you where to manage getting out of this alive, I was hoping I’d have a case to give him, and I wanted you to make it interesting for him.

Kidnapper: … that’s… morbidly sweet.. I think?

Rosie: yeah, well, it’s kind of pointless now judging by the red dot on your head.

Kidnapper: Wha- ( turns around to see a laser pointed at their forehead ) … Oh shit-

Rosie: ( checks her watch again ) 20 seconds, they’re getting slow. By the way, my other dad, the shorter one, and the one that I’d guess is pointing the snipper at you right now, is a retired military veteran from Afghanistan, with nearly perfect aim. He has killed about-

Kidnapper: I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE WAS A DOCTOR-

Rosie: He had bad days. Ok! Byeee-

Kidnapper: Wait- if you knew what I was doing, why did you stay in the car?!

Rosie: I was really hoping you’d be able to get my dads out of the house. They’ve been driving me crazy. Sorry you where such a disappointment. Have fun in jail!

[valyrfia]

I think Max will either retire or move to Ferrari in 2027

OUR LESBIAN FERRARI PROPHET SAYS SO? DROP THE TIMELINE

Okay okay anon walk with me.

So I think Lewis is Ready for Retirement. I think he would've retired at Mercedes, eighth championship be damned, if Mercedes had just given him an ambassador contract so he could've used his position and his brand for the causes he wants to dedicate the second half of his life to. As is, Mercedes refused to give him that contract (which, I could go on for AGES about how blindly ridiculous that is and is a clear marker of how far this sport still has to go re: racism)–but Ferrari did.

However, to be a Ferrari ambassador, a 2+1 year race contract accompanies it. Obviously this is a good move for Lewis anyway since it's looking like Ferrari will be one of the quickest teams moving into 2025 and Lewis must have some information on how they might nail the regulation change come 2026, but, and this may be controversial. Charles Leclerc is an established driver at Ferrari, the absolute darling of the tifosi (I mean, he's the second most important person in Italy after the literal pope), and most importantly he's a driver that has not yet hit his ceiling. Now, this is where I tread carefully, but I believe that Lewis, in comparison, is past his prime. Sure, he pulled off an incredible drive at Silverstone this year but he has not been able to match George–and George I believe is currently at a lower level than Charles. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charles is, well, going to walk all over Lewis next year. And if Lewis truly has only moved for the sake of the ambassador contract, he'll break the racing contract after 2 years.

Okay but Ollie is supposedly lined up for that Ferrari seat, and Ferrari NEED an order of succession, so who says that Max will take it?

Red Bull Racing is falling apart at the seams (sorry RB fans). Christian Horner is a power-hungry [REDACTED] who will bring the whole team down with him. The Thai side have never really cared about the Formula 1 team (and I know from Sources, backed Christian Horner in this whole fiasco which is why CH wasn't fired). Newey is gone, I'm sure other key figures will get pinched in the next couple of years, Max has kept everything together for pure skill this past year but the writing is on the wall. I'm going to hold everyone's hands when I say this, but I don't think Red Bull are winning either championships next year....

However, for as much as Max loves to talk about it, I don't think he's actually ready for retirement. I also don't think he'll be the type of guy to retire on a low. Max's contract is until 2028, but he can break it if he drops to P3 in the championship, which, I think there's a non-zero chance of happening in 2026 especially under new regulations/brand new engines.

So Ferrari are likely going to nail the new regs, Max doesn't want to retire on a low, and it looks like Ferrari shopping for a driver and Max wanting to leave Red Bull will line up within roughly the same window.

There's also a couple of sentimental reasons I want to point to. Max (as much as he tries to deny it) is a victim of the old Red Bull Golden Boy curse of being a Ferrari fan. I mean, he literally grew up in the Schumacher era, with his father being friends with Schumacher. He's stated multiple times how if he can't hear the Dutch anthem on the podium he'd like to hear the Italian one. I suspect deep down, he's much more of a tifoso than any of us realise.

There's also the Charles Leclerc of it all. Now really walk with me here because this is tenuous and yes is coming from a known Lestappie (tomato tomato) but isn't really a Lestappen argument.

Charles throughout his entire career has been obsessed with measuring himself up against those who are considered the "best of the best" and showing that he can beat them. He ate Seb alive, he'll likely do the same with Lewis. But both of these are drivers past their primes, at the very end of their lifespans. Charles has still yet to prove he can go toe to toe with a great at their prime and win.

Charles is, literally obsessed, with comparing himself to Max in interviews. Now (RIGHTLY SO) we Lestappies all point and laugh and call him a little obsessed but there's a very real publicity reason he wants to insist to everyone how him and Max were on each other's level in karting–people will subconsciously start to associate Charles as being on Max's level even if he hasn't proven it with championships. It's a very calculated move by Charles, and one I haven't seen many people discuss. Charles wants his name and Max's to be said in the same sentence because it validates Charles' own skill.

But Charles doesn't want to be known as Max's equal, not really, what he really wants is to be considered better than Max. And if he can't do that through number of championships, he can do it by putting the two of them in equal machinery. I think Charles will actually push Ferrari into trying to sign Max, because this is the way he can cement himself firmly as one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.

So I think a perfect storm of these combination of different factors will result in a Max to Ferrari move in 2027. Obviously all pure speculation, but drawing everything together, I'd give it maybe a 50% chance (providing Ferrari actually do come together which, Forza).

[trash-sonamy]

Sonic and Amy's relationship through the years: why did it change?

From games to shows, comics to official publications, it's evident that the dynamics of Sonic and Amy's relationship have changed through the years, with Amy toning down her fangirling and Sonic often being the driving force of their ship with his flirting, teasing and subtle jealousy (as user @essycogany pointed out in this analysis). But why are we witnessing this change? Let's dive into some key moments and reasons.

Disclaimer: I'm going to disregard the "canon" factor because it's not relevant to the general public perception of their relationship.

Sonic X

Any good sonamy fan will remember the fateful episode 52 of Sonic X. I interpret this episode of the series as the key moment that shifted their dynamic.

From the beginning of the series, we see an Amy that is very vocal about her crush and chases Sonic around, with Sonic having a few not-so-nice moments of pushing her and trying to run away from her. Their relationship shifts through the series though, and we begin seeing more of Amy's side as a determined fighter (that scares even Eggman!).

I won't over analyse episode 52 as it has been done countless times before, but Sonic going back to his world and seeking Amy in the first place means she's a valuable friend (or something else) to him. This moment alone brought popularity to the ship and to Amy as a character, which brings us to the next point.

Character development

I'm gonna risk saying that Sonic and Amy are the characters that have suffered the most development throughout the years. There are other characters who had development and even met different versions of themselves, but Sonic and Amy stand out in my opinion for different reasons.

Let's analyse Sonic: from the beginning, Sonic was always supposed to be cool, a beacon of positivity and the embodiment of the hero that always saves the day. The first Sonic games are pretty straightforward about that. However, in more recent games and shows, we've been seeing different sides of him: he has made mistakes (and recognized it), he has been impulsive, he has felt grief, sadness and anger and he hasn't been shy about it. Sonic Prime showed us probably the most emotional version of Sonic we've seen, and guess what? That pleases the public because everyone enjoys a flawed hero.

Moving on to Amy. Amy has a somewhat controversial birth, given that she was (apparently) created to be "Sonic's girlfriend" / romantic interest. Her crush on Sonic was, for some time, her only personality trait. With new games and media, she gradually gained her space and we started seeing more of her. Her kindness, her strength, her empathy, her leadership skills — all of which exist despite her crush on Sonic. She became more appealing as we got to learn more about her, and solidified her position as a valuable member of Sonic's team.

The development of these two characters as explained above made it possible for the dynamic we have today to grow naturally: Sonic openly teasing and (very often) showing signs that Amy means a lot to him, which is a result of Amy being her own self and showing her strength and independency — traits that we know Sonic appreciates.

Progression of values in society

I don't want to make this sound more deep than it actually is, but it's true that certain dynamics wouldn't be acceptable today simply because we as a society have progressed. The trope of the fangirl chasing her idol everywhere might have been a fun gag in the 90s, but it's just not it for today's standards. It has been made very clear that Sega wants to stir away from that image since that, for Sonic Generations, they edited the scene from Sonic 06 where Sonic shoves his hand in Amy's face to push her away. This kind of behavior doesn't align with Sonic's current values either.

Teasing is just fun!

Honestly, teasing sonamy is just too much fun without the commitment. One of the writers for Sonic Boom once said it:

And isn't that true? It's refreshing seeing the cool, composed Sonic blushing or showing jealousy, as it is to see how Amy reacts to her crush behaving this way. As a longtime sonamy fan, I just love searching for all the small hints and teases and over analysing them (like I'm doing now). It's endless material for gags too — check this compilation of sonamy moments in Twitter takeovers.

In conclusion, Sonic and Amy's relationship changed as they progressed as characters and Sega aimed to please a wider audience, giving space for fans to interpret their relationship as they please.

I also want to state that the points are my personal opinions and obviously open to be discussed. If you think I missed any point, please do let me know. Hope you like this!

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Drops this without any warning

A compilation of all of my prime bros headcannons that I could think of put together over the course of a few months👍👍

———

Sails

-one that is practically cannon to me now; he's is missing his right ear

-he likes making little wood carvings and insists on doing most of them with a sword instead of a knife or a dagger just to be extra (it backfires on his hands most of the time.) His favorite ones to make are models of ships

-generalist but hes the most skilled in woodwork and sea vessel maintnance

-has a beautiful singing voice but rarely uses it and instead opts to sing awfully on purpose.

-will not pass up an opportunity to literally "give you a hand" if you ask and he thinks its funny, but do not funking mess with his prosthetic unless allowed, you will go to sleep with less fingers than you woke up with

-knows how to juggle. No reason for this one I just think Sails knows a bunch of useless but cool party tricks (now there's ripe potential to make this angsty, but I shan't. Not yet.)

-ok so him and Mangey stumbled upon the third episode of Ninjago and rebuilt the Angel's Voyage and it flies now. Don't worry abt it

-insufferable when it comes to any sort of table or card games. He will crush you and play you for an idiot. Somehow, no one can ever prove hes cheating even when he absolutely is. The only one who has enough experience and same low blow tactics, and as such can stand up to him, is Tails

-speaking of which, being annoying is his biggest weapon and also favorite love language. Trust that you will know if the annoying is affectionate or meant to drive you insane (derogatory) though

-adrenaline seeker and worse one than Sonic honestly. Having multiple near death experiences in a single day awakened something in him and by god will he make it everyone else's problem

-his favorite to rile up are Nine and the various Knuckles for obvious reasons and usually clowns on them in the end

-hes also the one you go to if you need to properly get through to Nine and Sonic failed or is unavailable. No one really knows how he does that.

-also loves blowing shit up, explosives are his favorite thing ever

-naps whenever and where ever, most likely outside in the shade of a palm tree either under or in his hammock.

——

Mangey

-NOT stinky or mangy alright, he takes grooming very seriously, he maintains a mohawk of all things like come on!!

-except during the whole friendship breakup exile and purposeful starvation thing between Prim and Thorn, he didn't have acces to water to clean properly and he does not like the feeling of being dirty (holy shit the scavengers were under constant sun with no food or water for God knows how long meanwhile Thorn was suffering from vitamin D deficiency they fucked up fr fr)

-autism be damned my boy figured out how to work the grill (I cannot explain this one beyond do NOT give him access to any sort of fire. And do not tell Sails. By god do not tell Sails.)

-loves those little "impossible to solve" puzzles and especially rubix cubes, he usually gets the hang of everything in under two minutes but it keeps him entertained endlessly

-also loves taking apart things and see how they work and often attempts to replicate the mechanism within in another form. Problem is, not every time he considers if the thing is important or dangerous before he guts it, resulting in... a few incidents, and a lot of calming breathing exercises for Tails

-not a big fan of flat digital interfaces, he needs buttons and levers and stuff

-he wears mismatched black and white gloves (to match Nine!!) and actually gets proper lime green shoes he sometimes wears but prefers not to. He likes the simple familiar leaf shoes he crafted himself

-you know those little simplistic wooden toy trains with train tracks? Sails carves them and Mangey assembles them into increasingly convoluted tracks all over the place. If they get really lucky they can also convince Nine to paint them (which he both hates and loves because by god can he not hold his hands steady but more on that later) There's a whole Rube Goldberg machine set in place involving the track. What it does and how it's triggered varies on a weekly basis.

-really strong sense of hearing and smell due to which he gets overstimulated easily and has headaches often, especially if hes in an area hes not used to.

-speaking of smell, he can not only tell where but How Much food there is, so lies of "sorry this was my last one" will never work, he knows

-he can pretty easily pick up on weather changes, sometimes with the same accuracy as Tails' forecast

-terrified shitless of thunder and lightning, and while it's fairly easy to calm him down, he's unfortunately even easier to startle and not so surprisingly agile

-doesn't have any particular strong feelings abt his tails since people were displeased with him as a Whole and he dissapeared into the jungle before any of that hatered could stick. He likes them because they're a good blanket :]

-hates conflict of any capacity because that just reminds him of Thorn and Prim and the fallout of their falling out, which is why it's for the best to NOt let him witness Shadow and Sonic in close proximity cuz boy Will be UPSET and no matter what you can't explain it to him that they're just gay like that

- he also naps wherever he wants whenever he wants, ussually in a warm and hidden place such as a pile of sun warmed blankets or moss under a tree. Please always dutifully check the dryer before starting it, double check if it was recently used.

——

Nine

-also cannon to me, he's declawed in his left hand and those metal tips serve as a prosthetic so he can actually grip things properly. The same goes for his right wrist that was shattered weirdly once and now needs to be reinforced

-the weird green glowing thing on his right hand he uses as a communicator later in the series is a fucked up looking watch (I was also thinking there's some connection between it and his metal tails since they have the same poison yellow glow but i don't know enough technical lingo to explain myself)

-prefers to stay indoors for all accounts, but loves to star gaze and chill outside at night. Mangey often silently joins him or is the one to drag him outside in the first place. Tell no one else abt this though

-cannot handle literally any spice in his food and he actually nearly died the first time Tails cooked for him since adding chili was just muscle memory and he didn't even think to ask

-but it urns out Nine likes food even more than Mangey which is, concerning, to some people. Always with a snack in hand and eating something, he especially loves fruit. Bro got an apple for the first time in his life and cried (canon I imagined it real hard)

-after the whole prism debacle he was left with some hefty nerve damage and now has fine motor issues, and regular. And has frequent migranes which pisses him off to no end

-actually gets some color into his wardrobe, since he no longer needs to camouflage all the time. His fashion sense is literally just a shirt and pants anyway

-On the off chance he goes into public and someone addresses him there is a tiny gender confusion. This will not have any internal ramifications for her whatsoever

-his nose is absolutely jacked, and so are his lungs. This will also not cause any further concerns either

-Do not fucking touch his tails ever. Mechanical or organic. He will kill you.

-if he let's you touch his tails, congratulations, he will kill and die for you.

-avoided Tails, Knuckles and Rouge like the plague for the first few months he moved in Into green hill for, obvious reasons.

-surprisingly close to Shadow actually??? When did that happen no one really knows

-graffiti!! He does graffiti and paints!!! Him and Sonic take random nights off and commit artistic vandalism on the most hard to reach surfaces for the avarge person. Nine also gloats over Tails and his lacking impressionist artistic skill

-but he's never drawn a blueprint physically and just used a digital program, so it evens out

-actually has a somewhat stable sleep schedule, unfortunately the time dilation between the Shaterspaces makes it seem like he doesn't

-in the event he falls unconscious/asleep his mechanical tails form a silly little cage around him and strike at anything that gets too close. He usually gets to bed before sleeps but in the event he chonks out on his table? Yea no one is getting him from there without having to wake him up first.

[boundinparchment]

Blasphemous Rumors - IX

“Marry me.” He said it with such blasé that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly. Silence surrounded the two of you and he leaned down and tilted his head, watching you like a specimen under a microscope. “Just for a year. A marriage of convenience. Consider it nothing more than a harmless experiment for the sake of curiosity.”

Il Dottore/Female reader with established personality. Slow burn. Semi-enemies to lovers. Available on AO3 here.

Obscured half-truths should have been easier to spot.  Was it mere convenience that caused me to overlook such details or the notion that if she lasted this long under Pantalone’s reign, she was likely a safe candidate?  Worse still, was it because I find her to be one of the only tolerable individuals to deal with?

She wasn’t lying about her father, the change in circumstance, a decision to utilize her skills away from home.  Not only was it obvious merely from her demeanor at dinner the other night but she had little reason to hide such motivations to begin with.  Her candor prior to this arrangement was a refreshing surprise in comparison to the layered considerations from my colleagues.

Her father’s health failed and although she did her best to keep the books tidy, they slipped into the red when deadlines were not met.  Some months were just above water only for the subsequent ones to sink again.  In most cases, Agents were sent to take care of such matters, but circumstances required the Regrator’s personal assessment.  They were denied an appeal and had little choice but to declare bankruptcy; subsequently, their credit was ruined, financially and socially.  Sneznhayan winters were bearable with a collective community, with every individual playing their part.  When one could not contribute, however…

To give up one’s resources and time and energy for another.  Only the Eremites showed me such sentiments provided I pulled my weight in return.

I leaned back in my chair and rested my boots on my desk, tossing aside my mask to press the heels of my palms into my eyes.  Ridiculous.  Had I truly overlooked her personnel and public records all for the sake of this experiment?  A mistake I would have made centuries ago, not now.  Emotion certainly didn’t drive this decision, for we had no such bond.  And although I’ve had fleeting thoughts of what her body might feel like, I was not a creature of hungry lust.

Exploring a purposeful relationship was enticing, a new adventure, and I was never one to turn down an opportunity.

How foolish.

Such circumstances in life naturally led to the decisions she has made for the rest of her career.  The Fatui, while hardly beloved, offered enticing pay and there were plenty of enemies to sell information to.  She had gone to the postal service before the bank that day I saw her in town and she has a knack for searching for details beyond her station.  It was the only thing that made sense. 

She was hardly the first I have observed to turn to such desperate measures.  Treason was reserved for the betterment of the people at the cost of oneself, but if she were to be arrested or killed, who would care for her loved ones?  Given previous conversations, she hardly expected anything from me in this regard.  Which meant she gave little thought to the consequences of her actions or had terrible foresight.

There was little else in the file.  The Regrator would have approved her resume and background and thus must know she may not be as trustworthy as others.  I, for one, preferred to have different minds on various projects to identify other ways of thinking.  But the Ninth was not one for dissonance, and either he hired her out of ironic pity or he gave no second thought to those he financially fucked over.

Somehow, the latter would not be surprising in the least.

Despite it all, I found myself intrigued.  Did she have a plan?  What was her endgame? 

“This is rather amusing, Prime,” Omega crooned, papers fluttering as the Segment tossed the files back onto my desk.  “I would have thought Zeta to be the one to be wrapped up in such a dramatic tale.”

“I resent that,” came a second voice, off to the right of my desk.  “Besides, we need a little excitement amongst ourselves on occasion.”

“Neglecting a background check on a future spouse you barely know outside of a professional capacity is careless.  I am aware all of us manage to get along with her but you must not be thinking,” Omega continued.

“All of us know what he was thinking when he caught her touching—”

“Enough,” I barked, splaying my hands out as I glared at the two Segments.  “This is a golden opportunity if managed correctly.  Insight into a common life experience and gaining information not first disseminated from the Marionette or the Regrator.  She’ll be an asset if used correctly.”

“She’s either the stupidest person in existence or the bravest,” Zeta chimed in, gleeful.  “Treason right under a Harbinger’s nose for years and now she’s gone and married said Harbinger’s higher ranked colleague.”

The silence of my inner mind was deafening as every part of me came to the correct conclusion: we stood to lose a great deal if she flew too close to the sun.  Setting aside Pantalone’s bet and putting everything at face value, the spouse of a Harbinger found to be a spy would cast my own credibility into account.  And I have worked far, far too hard over these centuries.

Damn it all.

“A solution will be found,” I stated, the familiar confidence settling the stirring of the Segment network.

I rose to my feet and straightened my sleeves, erasing the traces of uneasy thoughts.  Before me, Omega and Zeta remained unconvinced, their own arrogance and perception too sharp, too much like my own.

But it was not them I needed to concern myself with.  My meeting with Pantalone this afternoon was more pressing. 

As I dismissed the others and locked my study, Omega turned back and said, “This is your experiment, Prime.  But do let us know if you need a…helping hand.  She’s our wife, too.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting back the urge to remind Omega that I created all of my Segments as tools of perception, functioning individuals separate from myself.  A waste of breath.  Whatever eventuality was inevitable with my Accountant, there was little reason for it to include being woven into a web of my Segment’s antics.

The office was quiet when I arrived upstairs, the faint sounds of a group lunch mingling with those of a client conversion and a series of clicks from a typewriter.  Boring and slow and enough to stir my mind to madness if I were subjected to such an environment; the briefest stint in the Akademiya archives sorting organizing copies of theses with little to no consequence on the greater world was enough to solidify that. 

Her old office was nothing but a series of file boxes and a bookshelf, not yet re-occupied.  It seemed far smaller than I recalled it being.  An observation worth analyzing later.

The Accountant was now found in the office just outside of Pantalone’s double doors, a wide vista spanning out behind her and room enough for a small sitting area, tucked out of view from the half-windows that lined the front of her new office.  So far, she had only managed to place a few of the familiar knick-knacks from prior business trips as personal marks.  She was deep in conversation with an Agent, their hood down as they stood just inside the threshold, speaking.  Something in my ribcage ached at the sight of her, sun painting her from behind as she idly played with the letter opener.  Distantly, I could still smell her perfume, a testament to its quality.  The scent had lingered in the dressing room this morning, warm, a little musky, sweet in afternote. 

Rationality kept its hold on me but memories of pressing her against the wall, impulsive and opportunistic, burned my eyes every time I blinked.  Such need would be dealt with later.  It held no place now.

Briefly, I considered her high shoulders and legs ankles as she feigned casualty, leaning against her desk.  Part of me thought to rap my knuckles against the wood paneling and startle the rambling Agent.  Just as I raised my hand, the Accountant’s head turned slightly, eyes shifting and meeting mine.  She gave the smallest shake of her head before returning her attention to the Agent, as if nothing had happened.

I bit back a smirk.  How well she knew my curiosity for reactions.

Not bothering to knock on the Regrator’s door, I slipped away and shoved all thoughts of her soft skin to the recesses of my mind.

Pantalone barely looked up from his desk at my presence, bemusement sitting in his brow.  A chill ran through the office, the window behind him cracked open despite the whipping snow dancing down from the rooftops.  He claimed it was for fresh air, regardless of the season.  I once argued the inefficiency of such behavior and, upon my next visit, he’d purposefully gone out of his way to make it colder fully knowing one such as myself was used to cold desert nights.

I contemplated pacing to keep the rampant thoughts of frustration at bay but instead settled into one of the nearby sofas.  The leather was supple, more giving than at first glance, disarming.  Propping my elbow up on the back, I rested my head on my fist before crossing an ankle over my lap.  This meeting would be a waste of time, as it usually was, and the Segments were not helpful in sorting thought priority.

“You appear to have returned from an expedition, not a honeymoon, old friend.  Don’t tell me marriage doesn’t suit you already,” the banker crooned.

Already laying landmines?  How droll.  Beneath my mask, my eye twitched.  This meeting was supposed to be about several other matters, the most important of which was gauging how much he knew already regarding the topic the Accountant dropped in my lap.  He had to be aware of the pattern, but whether he intended to do something about it...   

I waved a hand.  “Unexpected occurrences in the lab in my absence.  We had a fine time away.”

Pantalone chuckled as he rose from his desk, picking up his walking stick as he went, the thing little more than a prop.

“I would have expected you more…relaxed, is all.  You’ll need to be a little more convincing than just watching from a distance, Zandik.”

Amused, I tilted my head.  “Whatever are you talking about, banker?”

“You played your role at the wedding well enough.  But what about the bedroom?”

Pantalone took his time, the tip of his cane thumping into the plush carpet as he went.  He was practically in time with the ridiculous clock in the corner, ticking away.  Truly, he was wasting both of our times prying?

“Get to your useless point already,” I glowered.

“Apparently, the both of you were never quite out of sight, seemingly glued to one another but not in the…traditional sense.  More like friends than eager lovers.”

With a smile, Pantalone continued, pacing as he went.

“That was not the tell, though.  It may have been beneficial to let the staff do their job instead of insisting on making the coffee yourself.  The housekeeper and cook might be in your pocket but they do enjoy chatting with the groundskeeper.”

“What happens between my wife and I is no one else’s business.”

The words were pure fact but that was yet another blind spot I’d overlooked.  Beneficial, perhaps, to the farce of a happy marriage on the surface.  To any outsider, it might appear that way.  But it was unlike me to forget my position, one I had overcome death itself, in a sense, to achieve.  In the depths of my mind, Omega chuckled.

Pantalone ceased his peacocking and finally settled onto the other end of the couch, thumb idly playing with the design of the cane’s metal top.  “It is when you’re a Harbinger, my friend.  We might above the nobility but that does not mean people won’t talk.”

My mind lingered again on unspoken expectations, the peripherals that mattered little to an experiment focused on a single goal but were imperative to a proper union befitting my station.  Even if this agreement was only for a year at minimum, eventually we would need to tackle nonsense such as intimacy, at least feigning it, let alone legacies…

They wouldn’t, not if this didn’t last.  And she…why would she agree to more than a year with me?  She’d practically thrown herself at me but that didn’t mean much in marriages such as this.  He was not entitled to her physicality, nor was she to his.

And only a fool would consider throwing children into a paper-thin union.  Genetics was always such a fascinating field, the potential born from random sequencing in a particular order, uncovering the result only as the subject grew…

Just long enough to win the bet.  That was all they needed.  Nothing less, but nothing more, either.  She would get what she was owed from their agreement and even as a divorcee of a Harbinger, she would be a viable candidate for another, purely out of a strategic alliance. 

She would be fine.

“You certainly put on a show at the wedding but now it’s time to continue proving it,” Pantalone said, his golden eyes boring into my mask.  “And distantly watching your wife or allowing ridiculous rumors to circulate about her is not in your best interest.  Nor is an unsatisfied partner.  At least for your sake.  You look as if you’re going to snap in two.  Get it over with, would you?”

“Why don’t you concern yourself with your own affairs, Regrator?  It’s not as if you fare any better in solitude.”

“Touche.  As you said, no one else’s business.”

“Then drop it.  I came to discuss something else.”

The other man raised a thin eyebrow in silent query, leaning back into the arm of the sofa.

“You’re aware that Northland is not the only source of my funding,” I began.

“Naturally.”

“A few of my investors happen to be within the nobility.  Recently, Omega reported that some of them are claiming financial hardship and they’re unable to come up with the rest of their capital.  I’m curious if the same has occurred for Northland itself, if there’s been increase in bankruptcies or other defaults as of late.”

Pantalone raised his head slightly, eyes leaving mine for a moment in consideration.  So, Northland’s capital, which came from the very money deposited by its customers, was more vulnerable than it seemed.  Had he done a poor job of hiding it?  Or was it intentional? 

“I imagine they’ve been crumbling under the new tax laws and tariffs as of late,” the Ninth supplied.  “But they must understand that their roles as nobles are to take the higher ground and sacrifice for those with fewer means than themselves.  How else are we meant to bridge the gap, hmm?”

And yet, the Accountant made it seem so…

His words were too dismissive, too easy.  I may not dabble in economics but for her to be so concerned, to consider it information critical enough to examine, there had to be more to it. 

But it was clear that was all I was going to get, even if I resorted to pushing back against him by pulling rank.  I rose to leave, ready to be done with this waste of time, and Pantalone did the same, closing the distance between us.  As I neared the door, he put a hand on my shoulder.

“Omega will receive his funding, one way or another,” the banker smiled, his eyes closing in congeniality.  “I’m sure Tartaglia would be more than happy to manage a few small collections, the Rooster said the boy is going stir-crazy as of late.”

“I’ll consider it.  Such actions may not be necessary.”

He patted my back, the action patronizing.  “You need only ask, dear friend.  Moving forward, another will be handling your accounts and budgets; can’t have your wife balancing your books, can we?

“Surely you didn’t move her merely because of her change in station?  She’s not one for taking credit where none is due,” I replied, glaring over my shoulder.

“Since it needs to be said, her promotion was both earned and acts a way to keep her from the rest of the nonsense.  There’s a betting pool for her resignation, another for when she begins to take sick days and wears looser clothing.  Her colleagues are just as vicious as ours, I saw no need for her to be subjected to it.”

“Betting pools started by you, undoubtedly,” I shot back.  “Considering your prying nature.”

“I’m wounded, old friend,” the Regrator pressed a hand to his chest, his expression sullen.  It changed as suddenly as it began, his usual stoicism settling in.  “But do consider what I’ve said.  Showing up to your own dinner party with this much tension will undoubtedly raise more speculation than quell it.”

Easy for you to say, you don’t have multiple versions of yourself in your head, I thought bitterly, opening the door and slamming it behind me.

I attempted to ease the tension in my jaw by focusing on the corridor and not the motion off to my left.  The slam caused her to flinch and look up, unused to the proximity of those whose blood pressure rose leaving the Regrator’s office. 

Looking at her did nothing to help with that.  The expression on her face was too similar to what I remembered from that morning, lips parted in ecstasy she thought was private…

Taking her on her desk, where Pantalone could hear every sound, would shut the other man up for good.  Would shut everyone else up for good.  But that required him to be a different man, one driven by base desire alone, with no respect for the set-up of the experiment.

And she wasn’t mine to have.  Not really, marriage laws be damned.

The experiment needed to continue unclouded.  Marriage was more than lust, more than sex, more than physical intimacy.  Her suggestions for trying to get along and know one another, as much as he would let her, would certainly lead to more success in that regard.

The moment passed as quickly as it came when I entered her office, her hand still poised mid-calculation.

“Thank you for not interrupting earlier,” she said, returning to her work.  “They were rather informative, all things considered.  And I shouldn’t have to say that I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”

“I never claimed to be one.”

“Wouldn’t suit you anyway.”

Selfishly, I allowed myself the thought that kissing her would feel sublime, regardless.  Not an hour went by where I didn’t feel her lips on mine, a ghost of the stolen kisses from weeks ago.  If I was struggling with this, it stood to reason she might be as well.  And with the new information from this morning, I’m beginning to understand just what kind of position she put herself in, marrying me: she was not unlike Tyr, putting her arm in the mouth of Fenrir, as the old Khaenriahn myths went.

“Take an extended lunch and come to my workshop,” I said.  “We need to discuss a few details.”

She watched me, wary, but as I walked away, I heard her shuffling papers and gathering her belongings.  I did not pause in my stride when her office lock clicked and I felt her keeping pace beside me.

Resting my hand at the small of her back, I ushered her along amid her colleagues’ glances.  My skin burned.  Not even the thoughts of her being a political problem, a traitor and the biggest wrench in my plans, kept the sensations at bay.

I needed to get this experiment back on neutral ground as soon as possible.

[microwavesaferat]

No one in Gotham is human.

It's something in the water, it's in the air, it's in the soil. It's rooted deeply into the soul of Gotham, a distinct sense of wrongness that permeates the streets; Gotham has marked every one of her children.

With every chemical that has been dumped in the sewers, every gas attack, every chemical lab explosion, the people of Gotham grow more and more metahuman. Most of the time it's subtle, a greater constitution, thicker skin, higher pain tolerance. You need these things to manage in a place like this and Gotham will do anything to keep her children. Other times, the mark will distort and corrupt those who have wronged Her. The bird-like man who dumps his trash (living or dead) into her bays develops a distinct waddle, unable to laugh without squawking. The man who clouds her air with cloying, heavy fear, that same fear redoubles on him, constantly seeing the smallest movements in the corners of his burlap-covered eyes.

Gotham gives her greatest blessings to her protectors, the knights of the dark, her precious pet birds.

For the eldest bird, who flipped through her skies with a light and joy sorely needed, she let him bend. While yes, he was always a soaring acrobat, now his muscles were elastic and his bones rubber, contorting and molding to his will. He would never notice the mark, but Gotham would know he was hers.

The bird with the clipped wings, girl who was shot down in her prime. She had lost so much and still kept pushing, striving for her father's and mentor's dream to improve the streets of the city. What better gift than the bird's-eye view she could no longer have? While the woman behind the screen may seem omniscient, she is not. That comes from a mix of her own skill and the slight sense in the back of her head of where to look, what to do, where to go. Call it a hunch, but she will always be there at the right place, at the right time.

The second, the twice born, the one that returned to her, she gave her strength. The strength of the underdogs, the looked-down upon, the rejects. He would always find that strength to defend the defenceless, to aid the needy. He chalked it up to the effects of the Pit, but Gotham knew. Gotham gave him the strength she couldn't when he left her reach, in a warehouse, so far from her watchful gaze.

For the inquisitive one, what to give? He had deduced the city's greatest mystery off of his own merit, he had taken his place as a protector, not been handed it. He was stubborn, and committed, Gotham needn't give him any mark. Until, with allies dwindling and hope fading, with his title taken and his family lost, Gotham gifted him that stubbornness he once had. There would only be one problem who couldn't solve, one task that, once he set his mind to it, he would not complete; the source of his determination, what drives him to work through till dawn, to not rest until his job is down.

Then came the blonde one, who was cheeky, and cunning, and oh so determined. The mark that was left was one of laughter, of a smile in the face of anguish, a joke in times of war. She would be a beacon of hope, of the joy to come in her wake. Regardless of what happened around her, she would always be able to crack a smile, such is the optimism that Gotham granted her.

Then came the youngest, the violent child with eyes far older than himself. He was often misunderstood by those around him, he himself would be understanding. He would always know what someone needs, and, more specifically, what the voiceless would need. Gotham did not anticipate that this mark be utilised for his growing farm, apparently the 'voiceless' extends to those who moo or bark, but she was happy regardless. Her children would always surprise, but never disappoint.

Then came another girl, a silent, skilled, deadly girl, with a capacity for great pain, but a will for something better. The child was trained beyond what Gotham could gift her. So Gotham gave her comfort: the ability to hide. she would always be able to disappear into the shadows when needed, a safety so rarely granted to her before.

She will admit that she was not as subtle with her final gift, but that did not matter. While her dark nights defended her people and her streets in shadow, this new bird was a shining light to the public, protecting her people as the sun shone. It was only fair that he shine just as brightly then.

Yes, Gotham loved her children. Regardless of what people thought, she was not a malicious city, and would do her best to protect her own. But who could forget her favourite? Her crusader defending her honor every night, her knight in black armour. To him she gave the greatest gift she could, his birds.

[inkspiredwriting]

Flirtation in the Line of Fire

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I love flirty Five :)

Warnings: none

"You know, Hargreeves, you’re a real pain in the ass," Y/n said, smirking as she watched Five through the sights of her weapon. They stood in a crumbling warehouse, facing off yet again. Dust motes floated lazily through the dim beams of light filtering from shattered windows above.

"And you’re one hell of a distraction," Five shot back, eyes narrowed. Despite the tension, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "Even if you’re absolutely sexy, I still have to ruin your pretty face."

Y/n’s laugh echoed through the space. "Careful, Five. I might think you’re flirting with me." She adjusted her stance, readying herself for the inevitable clash.

"Think? Darling, I’m definitely flirting with you," Five replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm and amusement.

They launched into action simultaneously. Five blinked, appearing behind Y/n in an instant. But Y/n, ever the skilled agent, anticipated his move. She whirled around, her kick narrowly missing Five’s face as he ducked.

"Close, but not close enough" Five teased, using his ability to teleport across the room, evading her swift strikes.

Y/n pursued him with relentless energy, a mix of professional dedication and playful banter driving their confrontation. "Come on, Hargreeves. Are you going to dance around all day or actually fight?"

Five disappeared again, reappearing right beside Y/n. "Why not both?" He grabbed her arm, attempting to pin her, but she twisted out of his grasp with a skillful maneuver.

"Impressive," he admitted, slightly breathless.

"I do my best," Y/n replied, equally winded but grinning. "You’re not too bad yourself, for an old man."

"I’m still in my prime," Five retorted, launching a series of attacks that Y/n blocked with surprising agility.

Their sparring continued, a blur of movement and witty remarks. Despite the intensity, it was clear they were both holding back, more interested in the thrill of the encounter than causing actual harm. Y/n ducked under Five’s swing, using her momentum to sweep his legs out from under him. He hit the ground but rolled quickly to avoid her follow-up strike.

"You’ve got to try harder than that," she taunted, offering him a hand to help him up. He took it, but instead of pulling himself up, he yanked her down beside him.

"Got you," Five said, pinning her beneath him. They were close, too close, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with something more than just combat.

"Looks like you win this round," Y/n said, her voice softer, eyes locked with his. "But I’ll get you next time."

Five opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, the sound of a briefcase whirring into life interrupted them.

"Damn it," Y/n muttered, looking over at the device on the ground nearby. "Duty calls."

Five’s expression darkened, but he helped her to her feet. "Always the Commission."

Y/n nodded, brushing herself off. "You know how it is. Can’t keep the bosses waiting." She picked up her briefcase, glancing back at Five. "But don’t worry, Handsome. I see you again." With a final, playful wink, she pressed a button on the briefcase, and in a flash of blue light, she was gone.

Y/n appeared in the sterile, cold environment of The Commission headquarters. Agents bustled around, barely giving her a second glance as she made her way to her assigned desk. The stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled encounters with Five made her sigh with a mix of frustration and longing.

"Y/n, report," a stern voice barked from behind her. She turned to see her superior, Mr. Carmichael, a no-nonsense agent with a penchant for strict adherence to protocol.

"Encountered Hargreeves. Neutralized threat," she replied curtly, trying to keep her tone professional despite the flicker of excitement that lingered from her recent bout with Five.

"Good. Keep it that way," Mr. Carmichael said, nodding approvingly before moving on.

Y/n exhaled, leaning back in her chair. Despite the routine of her day-to-day life at The Commission, her thoughts kept drifting back to Five. Their encounters were dangerous, exhilarating, and oddly captivating. And even though their paths often clashed, she couldn’t deny the strange thrill she felt every time they met.

The next time Five and Y/n crossed paths, it was in a bustling city square. People moved around them, oblivious to the invisible war being waged between the Commission and those who defied them. Five spotted Y/n first, her silhouette familiar against the backdrop of modern architecture.

"Fancy meeting you here," he called out, catching her attention.

Y/n turned, a smile spreading across her face. "Five. What a surprise. I thought you’d be hiding somewhere safe."

"I don’t do hiding," he retorted, closing the distance between them. "Besides, I was hoping to see you again."

"Is that so?" Y/n raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. "And here I thought you were just trying to avoid getting caught."

"Why would I avoid you?" Five’s voice was a mix of sincerity and mischief. "You’re the highlight of my week."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Hargreeves."

"Not even a little?" he asked, stepping closer. The crowd moved around them, a sea of faces and voices that seemed to fade into the background.

"Maybe a little," Y/n admitted, her smile softening. "But I still have a job to do."

"And I still have to stop you," Five said, his expression turning serious. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the process."

Before Y/n could reply, the sound of sirens and commotion erupted nearby. Both turned towards the source of the noise, their senses on high alert.

"Looks like our time’s up," Y/n said, readying her weapon.

"Until next time," Five replied, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before he blinked away, disappearing into the chaos.

Back at The Commission, Y/n found herself thinking more and more about her encounters with Five. Each time they fought, there was a connection, a spark that made the conflicts seem less like battles and more like a dance. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they ever found themselves on the same side.

As she prepared for her next mission, her mind drifted back to Five’s last words. "Enjoy the process." Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said for finding moments of joy, even in the midst of duty.

And somewhere, in the chaos of time and missions, there was a part of her that looked forward to their next encounter. Because even in the line of fire, there was a thrill, a connection, and a flirtation that made the fight worth it.

"See you again, handsome," she whispered to herself, a smile playing on her lips as she disappeared into the mission ahead.