#do you guys think that 72 year old man knows

[biggestwilliamfinnfan]

do you think bill finn knows about the hundreds of thousands of mentally ill teenagers who think about his silly music 24/7 without end

[tr4gictea]

True Meaning: Act I, Part 1

Isekai teen!reader + Genshin Impact

❥Masterlist

Tags: none

Including: Itto and his gang :D

word count: 904 words

Pervious | Next

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

Yesterday you woke up in a forest all alone. You soon realized that you were in the land of Inazuma. A fictional place in the world of Genshin Impact, a game you had been playing for years. You assumed you were dreaming and went to check out the stores and even got to a statue of seven which granted you electro powers. You soon fell asleep, thinking that the dream would end after you fell asleep.

But, for some reason you were still asleep in this forest with four men standing over you talking in a hushed tone.

"...I don't know, are they dead?" "No you idiot, they're still breathing!" "Guys no fighting right now we have to..."

You stirred awake from your slumber stretching out your arms as you sat up. The presence of the four men behind you go unnoticed.

You look in front of you to see the same scenery you fell asleep to. What is going on? I should have woken up after I fell asleep! Maybe I need to pinch myself to wake up? You pinch yourself but nothing happens. Why didn't anything happen? Maybe I need to do it harder. You pinch yourself again. Still nothing.

Wait so if this isn't a dream then I'm stuck in the genshin im-

"Hey there," A man's voice speaks from right next to your head.

"AH!" You yelp and jump forward, creating distance between you and the voice. When you look to see who spoke to you, the sight of four men, wearing a kasa hat except for the other one who had red horns on his head. Wait. No. That's Arritaki Itto!

"Woah!" He puts his hands up "Didn't mean to scare you like that little bro,"

"I-i, um I-," You were trying to find the words to speak but they all fell into studders. How can you be in the genshin world?! This is insane!

"You're speechless I can see," He says proudly, "Of course everyone, no matter who they are, always are emamoured by the presence of the Arritaki Itto!"

"Uh, I-."

"We were just walking by when we happened to see you on the ground and we thought you had gotten attacked or something, so we came to check on you. Say, where are your parents? You don't look like you come from here and you can get lost pretty easily."

"I, um," Quick (Y/n) think of something, you can't tell them you're not from this world! "I am a traveling student, from the uh, Akademiya."

"Nuh uh, you don't look like you're old enough to be one." One of the other members behind Itto questions. "And besides the borders closed six months ago."

"Yuh uh, I came here six months ago before the borders closed to do research and got stuck after the sakoku decree was placed." You feel bad for lying to them but that's all you can do right now because you can't tell them the truth. "And yes I am a student, I just skipped a couple grades."

"Oh yeah? Then what’s nine times eight?" Another gang member asked rasing his eyebrow at you.

"72."

"Wrong! Ha! I knew you weren't a student!" He says, crossing his arms and shooting his nose up in victory.

"What? No dude, they're right, it's 72." The gang member next to him says.

"Wait what?" He looks at his other gang members in surprise and they all nod back at him. "Oh no, I owe a lot more mora to that merchant than I thought..."

"Uh, anyways why are you sleeping out here?" Itto redirects the conversation back to you.

"I ran out of mora and can't afford a place to sleep." Which is half true.

"You ran out of mora?! Doesn't that fancy school pay for everything?"

"Yeah but um, they can't get the mora to me because of um, the borders being closed and all." 

"Oh yeah, right. That Radien Shogun is causing trouble for everyone with the sakoku decree and the vision hunt." Itto grumbles. "Ya' know what? If I ever get the chance, I'll fight the Shogun for all of Inazuma's visions."

Speaking of the vision hunt decree you still had your necklace which had your elemental energy stored in it. You remember how the Raiden Shogun had tried to murder travelers over being an “exception” and something tells you that you'd be counted on that list too. It would be safer if you didn't use your elemental power at all.

“Since you don’t have any money, I’m feeling nice today so, I will offer you the chance to dine with THE Arittaki Itto!” He said shouting the ‘the’. 

“So, like free lunch? Cause I’m out of mora right now.” 

“Of course the Arritaki Gang™ can always help out!” He proudly announced. “We are a very successful gang after all!” 

“Um boss,-” One of the other gang members tried to say something but Itto cut them off.

“Not right now Akira.” He said waving him off. “So what do you say kid?” He reached out his hand to you. 

Was this the right thing to do? I just got transported to a video game, will going with Itto be the right choice? Did I make a mistake lying to him? Am I on the right path?Your hand meets Itto’s with a hard smack and Itto pulls you up to your feet. “Let’s go,”

More Genshin Impact Stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

True Meaning Table of Content ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡

[rtfics]

"The Zen-Dad Wisdom of Michael Keaton."

Thirty-five years after playing the Ghost With the Most made him into an A-list star (and, soon after, a superhero), the legendary screen eccentric whom Jenna Ortega calls “strangely normal�� returns to old haunts in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, and tells GQ what he’s learned from surviving decades in a fickle business: “You can get insecure and nervous, and go, ‘Wow, boy, I'm not doing so great right now.’ But when you get desperate, you're dead.”

By Gabriella PaiellaPhotography by Christine Hahn

August 19, 2024

He is wandering around the restaurant, hunting for a quieter table, in the unselfconscious way of the older dad. Dressed like one, too: baseball cap, polo shirt, jeans, practical sneakers. He is, after all, a Pittsburgh-born, Montana-dwelling, fly-fishing, practical-sneaker-wearing father and grandfather, a visitor to the big city of New York, just looking for a quieter restaurant table. But he is also Michael Keaton—of Beetlejuice and Batman and Mr. Mom and about a million other blockbusters, grosser of multiple billions at the box office, and bona fide movie star.

He scopes out the bar. No luck there, but he at least returns with a glass of tequila. We try another table, which is…fine. Then the hostess points out a back booth, which she assures him is the quietest in the restaurant. Finally, then, we’re settled.

Or, as settled as you’re going to get when you’re talking to Michael Keaton. At 72, he’s still wiry, if slightly more worn. But that energy, man. It made him a top-tier guest on Letterman in the ’80s, doing rambling non-sequitur bits about esoteric Bazooka Joe cartoons. In conversation, it feels like mainlining cold brew while strapped to a bullet train.

It’s the type of energy that helped him flawlessly resurrect Beetlejuice, in Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, out this September. It’s funny and a bit strange that Keaton—despite having such a long and varied career that has coalesced into him being known as an American everyman—remains famously and indelibly associated with a perverted demonic entity covered in mold. In the same way that it’s conversely funny and a bit strange that 1988’s Beetlejuice, a scrappy and bizarre gothic horror comedy directed by a then-29-year-old Tim Burton, has become such an American institution.

Keaton is at that age when you naturally start looking back on what you’ve accomplished and are considering questions like legacy. Questions that you’d expect would be front of mind for someone returning to a project he first embarked on 35 years back, an entire lifetime ago. And it’s not that Keaton does not think about these things. But it soon becomes clear that he does not really give much of a shit.

About 10 years ago, another, tangential narrative seemed to be developing around Keaton, when he starred in Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Birdman, about a washed-up actor best known for playing a superhero staging a theatrical production. This was framed as his big Oscar-winning comeback.

“A really, really, really smart guy, a guy I liked a lot, said, ‘Comeback—that's the story,’” Keaton tells me. “I went, ‘Honestly, it's kind of bullshit.’”

He had been working steadily, all these years, putting himself out there, and collecting paychecks.

“I thought I could make that story up, but I knew I'm going to be bullshitting every time I talk about it,” he adds. “By the way, I know business. I like business. Doesn't bother me. You go, ‘This is a business, man.’”

And if Keaton has learned anything, it’s to be fine with the business, with the inevitable ups and downs. “I never panic,” he says. “If you get desperate, you're fucked. Don't ever get desperate. You can get insecure and nervous, and go, ‘Wow, boy, I'm not doing so great right now.’ But when you get desperate, you're dead.”

The long, gnarly road back to Beetlejuice began shortly after the success of the first one. There were, as there tend to be, talks. Talks that didn’t go anywhere. Talks about making it tropical—Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian was on the table for a while. Scripts were commissioned, written, and rewritten. And then, a few years back, the talks began again in earnest.

When Burton finally had his hands on a script he felt good about, he shared it with Keaton. The actor felt good too, though he had some stipulations.

In the first movie, Beetlejuice gets a whopping total of 17 minutes of screen time, which is pretty wild when you realize what a knockout presence he was. “Keaton is like an exploding head,” wrote film critic Pauline Kael, reviewing Beetlejuice in The New Yorker. “He isn’t onscreen nearly enough—when he is, he shoots the film sky high.”

Part of the deal was, if Keaton were to come back, he didn’t want to take up more space. “The idea was, no, no, no, you can't load it up with Beetlejuice, that'll kill it,” Keaton says. “I think the Beetlejuice character doesn't drive the story as much as he did in the first one. He's more part of the storyline in this one as opposed to the first one, which is a case of, this thing comes in and drives the movie a little bit.”

He was also adamant that the 2024 version preserve the handmade spirit of the original Beetlejuice, rather than leaning on CGI. “When I say handmade, it's literally handmade,” Keaton says. We’re talking ghoulish puppets, outlandish set design—the kind of thing, he notes, “that’s really hard to do in 2024.” He had reason to insist: “For the most part, [with CGI] I think a lot of audiences subconsciously feel farther away from what's actually going on on the screen or in the story. It'll work, they'll accept it,” he says. “But I think for a lot of movies, it's not quite as enjoyable.”

As for the character himself, there was not a ton of updating to be done there. Beetlejuice, debauched sicko in 1988, remains a debauched sicko in our more enlightened era. “He's a thing. He's more of a thing than a he or a she, he's more of an it. And I'm not saying ‘it’ to be politically correct. I just viewed it as a force more than anything. I mean, there’s definitely strong male energy, like stupid male energy, which I love,” Keaton explains. “You don't want to touch that because it's not like you go, ‘Well, it's a new year and this thing would now act like that.’”

Instead, to see Keaton in the film is to feel the eerie sensation of no time having passed at all. “It was like a weird family reunion,” Tim Burton told me. “Very strange, but the strange part of it is, Michael got back so into it, it was kind of scary in a way. I mean, for somebody who didn't really maybe want to do it, he seemed to channel it very quickly. And so it was quite exciting and surreal.”

And even though Beetlejuice seems so at odds with the rest of Keaton’s public image and filmography, it may actually be the character imbued with the maximum Michael Keaton. “He brought his energy to Beetlejuice,” costar Catherine O’Hara told me. “So that is Michael—real fast-talking, full of great crazy ideas, and really free.”

“There's a sexiness to him,” O’Hara added, laughing. “Which is crazy to say about Beetlejuice!”

Though, at first glance, all-American Michael Keaton and goth mastermind Tim Burton seem to have nothing in common, they do, in fact, match each other’s proverbial freak. “I love Michael because he has a certain energy,” Burton told me. “That's why I wanted him to be in Batman, because you just look in his eyes and he seems intelligent, scary, crazy, everything all at once.”

Back when Burton tapped Keaton to play the Caped Crusader in Batman, it was a controversial choice. So much so that, in the pre–social media days, 50,000 comic book nerds wrote to Warner Bros. to protest the casting. Keaton, not a comics guy by any means, did not quite understand the fervor. Now, he looks back at what Burton did with a different lens.

“Tim deserves enormous credit. He changed everything,” Keaton said. “I can't necessarily say this, but there's a strong possibility there is no Marvel Universe, there is no DC Universe, without Tim Burton. He was doubted and questioned.”

“He hasn't gotten himself enough credit for going, ‘Yeah—that guy,’” he continues. “And everybody went, ‘Wait, Michael? You worked with him on Beetlejuice, right?’ But I think what happened was Tim saw Clean and Sober”—Keaton’s first non-comedic role, about a man overcoming substance abuse. “I get the credit. I don't know that he got enough credit for making that move. That was a bold move.”

Plenty of esteemed actors have since wriggled into the Batsuit—George Clooney, Christian Bale, Ben Affleck, Robert Pattinson—but Keaton is still considered to be one of the best Batmen, and certainly the best Bruce Wayne. He’s even reprised the role, twice: in 2023’s The Flash and in the unreleased Batgirl, the latter of which was scrapped by Warner Bros. amid cost-cutting measures and will never see the light of day. Was the fate of Batgirl disappointing to him at all?

“No, I didn't care one way or another. Big, fun, nice check,” Keaton says, rubbing his fingers together in the universal gesture for “moolah.”

He pauses for a second, then softens slightly. “I like those boys. They're nice guys.” (Batgirl directors Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah, he means.) “I pull for them. I want them to succeed, and I think they felt very badly, and that made me feel bad. Me?” he says, shrugging. “I'm good.”

Keaton is starting to get visibly agitated with this line of questioning. He tenses up, and I suddenly find myself on the disapproving end of some of cinema’s most famous eyebrows. Why does everyone want to talk about Batman all the time anyway? At the end of the day, it was a role he played, like any other. If there was one thing he really got out of it, it was this: “I'm nothing but only respectful and grateful, 100%,” Keaton says. "And proud of it actually, because I like to prove everybody wrong. It's fun for me."

The dad vibes, first established with Mr. Mom, remain strong with Keaton. It’s a priority in his life—he has a son, Sean, who now has kids of his own. It continues to be a preoccupation in his work—both his self-directed film from earlier this year, Knox Goes Away, and the upcoming comedy Goodrich, wrestle with fatherhood. But nowhere is it more present or palpable than on his Instagram. That’s where, to his 945,000 followers, he posts stuff that could otherwise be posted by your average MSNBC-loving suburban dad. It’s refreshingly unmanicured, the majority of the feed populated by photos of his dog, photos of his actual TV taken from the couch, screengrabs of articles with wonky cropping, and, once, a photo of a tweet on his computer that was then posted rotated 90 degrees the wrong way.

When I merely mention the existence of his Instagram account, he turns bright red and starts belly-laughing that great Michael Keaton laugh, pretty much collapsing in our booth.

“It's embarrassing and great at the same time,” Keaton admits. “I try to embrace it. My kid has given up on me. He's totally given up. He tried to educate me, and he goes, ‘No, man, I'm just going to embrace this. I'm just going to laugh at you all the time.’ I don't know what it is. First of all, I'm too lazy. I'm too lazy to do the extra work. I go, ‘Here, you should know about this. Just have at it.’ By the way, I want to defend this. Why should I do everything for you?”

Jenna Ortega, his young costar on Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, deemed Keaton “strangely normal,” adding that, “I think someone as successful as him, you could tell his priority lies with family and just being a kind, genuine guy.” James Marsden, who played his son in Knox Goes Away, recalled his first meeting with Keaton. “I sat in a room with him for about two hours. I don't think we intended to speak that long,” he said. “We just talked about fatherhood and kids and life, and never really even mentioned acting at all.”

I see Keaton’s grandfatherly instincts in action when, near the end of our interview, a girl who can’t be more than five and her mom are seated at the table next to ours. The kid shyly slides into the booth near Keaton. He greets her as if she’s an old friend and strikes up a conversation, sharing our french fries. Her mom is laughing, as if she can’t really believe what’s going down. The kid, naturally, has no idea who he is.

“You don't understand, but I'll explain when we're out of here,” says Mom.

There was always a sense, though, starting all the way back from those early Letterman appearances, that Keaton is just having more fun with the spectacle of celebrity than everyone else. “I'm a little surprised how many people take it seriously,” he says, when I raise this idea to him. “I was just with somebody I really liked the other day. This guy's great, so talented, so funny. A stand-up. We were at a little get-together. And for me, I mean—this guy's way younger than me, and I felt him behaving himself too much. I was pointing out some stuff that I thought was funny, and I don't know—I was shocked that there was no sense of mischief.”

Maybe, I suggest, this business was just more fun back in the day.

“I might have more fun with it now. It’s not like I don't care about it, I care about it to the degree that it's my job, you shouldn't be a jerk. But, essentially, it's kind of all ridiculous,” he says. “That's the great thing: It all looks silly. The whole thing looks sillier every day.”

Via GQ.

[wishmaster]

Body Swap 72 Client 2XXX Classified

Brian was desperate he needed money fast or else the bookie he owed would do god knows what with him. He heard of the Body Swap 72 program and decided what the hell let someone else deal with this body for awhile, at least for 72 hours he wouldn't be gambling his life away, or so he thou

Enter Casper, the 70 year old had recently been trying to recapture his youth. A youth he wasted living in a loveless marriage having kids that don't even bother with him

$5000 later Brian was waiting for Casper to arrive, he was a bit on edge about spending the next 3 days as an old man but he needed the cash. the switch happened, Casper was immediately energized, he pulled up Brian's shirt to inspect the goods

Brian on the other hand was about to learn that aging sucked. As he stood there looking at his old body he was so turned on by it, but his dick couldn't get hard which was embarrassing. Casper teased, I'd let you fuck me old man but that dick ain't rising for no one. Brian became frustrated but quickly hatched a new plan of what to do while stuck as Casper. Casper spent his time fucking as many guys as he could Brian made use of him self in Casper's body, emptying the old man's accounts He had gone on a spending spree creating a bank account under his real name with all of his money safely deposit, a fool proof plan, or so he thought.

Brian passed his old body one night as he passed the night clubs, the old man had started smoking in his body, which sickened him. He didn't feel so guilty about ripping him off now. It'd take him month's to loose the habit.

he turned to cross the road without looking when suddenly a truck barreled down the road hitting Brian as Casper dead on.

Casper took a drag on his cigarette before walking over to his old body which was laying bleeding in the road. You Don't think I know what you did, I had an eye on my cash in case my ass hole kids tried anything while I was you. Thought you could fuck over this old man huh? Casper said to Brian who knew he was about to die. Thanks for making it easy for me to get my cash, get to screw my kids over like they did me. And thanks to the BS72 contraact when one of the participent dies during the 3 days, the surviving one gets to keep the others body. Thanks Sonny Boy, I've got the money and the body now. He decided to give him one last look as he walked away leaving his old body to die in the street.

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 19: Silvertongue and Hesper

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Silvertongue and Hesper - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2689 - Rated: T - CW: non-graphic torture, blood

Where Janus went in the pre-dawn hours. But first, what happened to Lucas after he left HQ on Remus and Roman's 21st birthday. If you haven’t yet read Progression, stop here and read it now for maximum impact. The flashback at the start of this chapter takes place two days after the end of that story.

For at least the hundredth time and for the second time in the past 72 hours, Lucas punched in the coordinates to The Inn. This time, though, he made the trip out to their old watering hole alone.

The ghost of Re’s giddy nervousness bounced around the ship. 

Really? You’re gonna let me have a drink tonight?

Sure, Re. You only turn twenty-one once…

Banking around the scaffold of the Newland Towers, Lucas jumped at the static he picked up from the construction site. For the past three days, Lucas had stayed up, listening, waiting. He’d kept the aircar radio open the whole way out, childishly hoping Jan or Pat or anyone else would reach out. Tell him it was all a mistake. Ask him to come home.

No-one did.

He set down behind the bar and circled his and Jan’s old haunt. A flashing ‘closed’ sign shone in the darkness, and the landing pads out front were vacant, but Andrew’s movement behind the bar cast long shadows in the back windows. The gate was down in front so Lucas returned to the alleyway.

Shiny, new, and with five layers of encryption, the deadbolt on the backdoor was impressive. The rusted screws holding it in place, however, were not and one swift kick opened the door.

“What the hell—” Andrew’s tough guy shout from the bar dropped to a whisper when Lucas came into view. His eyes darted side to side, searching for someone in the empty bar to rescue him.

“Lucas! Hey… hey, um, no hard feelings, right? You know I didn’t call the feds on Re… they just… they just showed up and took care of the body, I…” He stepped back, fumbling along the railing under the taps for his emergency call switch. “But y—you got outta here way before they got here, right?”

“The call button’s two meters to your left,” Lucas responded, flipping a bottle sealer at the powerbank just above the switch. It exploded, sparks raining down on Andrew’s hand. “You wouldn’t want the corpos to just show up coincidentally again, now would you?”

“No, Lucas, no…” He shook his head. “Of course not. C’mon, man… You know it’s not like that. You and Jay have been coming here for years… You all are like family to me.”

Lucas’ voice was quiet. “You took my family from me.” He unbuttoned his coat and peeled it off, revealing a harness with an antique taser and five extra charge canisters. “You took my brother.” Gaze focused on his coat, Lucas walked to the rack next to the front doors and hung it on the closest hook before drawing down the window shade and checking the locks on the door. 

“You took my boys.” Andrew’s eyes widened and he slowly straightened, shaking hands raised near his head. Lucas snapped a fresh charge into place and watched the standby light stutter to life. “You took my love.”

Finally he looked up, eyes ablaze. “I’ve lost everything.” Andrew began to tremble, sympathetic nervous system rooting him in place, full freeze mode. As though that could do anything to help him now. Lucas absorbed the fear pouring out with his rank sweat and smiled. “Just as you’re about to.”

Lucas unlocked the taser and flicked it on. A sharp buzzy whine filled the room, followed by the trickling sound of urine dripping from Andrew’s pant leg. Lucas tsked. “So soon? Very well.”

“No, no, no… Lucas… You don—you—you don’t wanna do this… This—this isn’t you.” Lucas aimed the taser and the man’s words jumbled, hands out as though he could stop the assault. “Wha—what would Jan think if he—”

Lucas’ eyes brightened, orange fire pushing away his doubt. “Jan already thinks I’ve been purchased. He already thinks I betrayed him. To you.” He grinned, his smile broad and easy. And empty as the bar. “Let’s show him who I really answer to, shall we?”

“No… no, please, Lucas, no—” With a bang, refurbished guidewires shot out and embedded in the man’s neck. 50,000 volts cut short his pleas, the bright white glow rivaled only by Lucas’ orange eyes.

~

The slow death of Andrew’s brain ripped away the last shreds of Lucas’ control. Eyes squeezed shut, he doubled over, arms crossed over his head as the bartender’s dying cries shot through his heart. Seared flesh set fire to his nerves. Andrew’s fear his pain would never end. The fear of what would happen when it did.

And Andrew’s last thoughts, the tiny spark of relief that it was finally over.

Lucas slumped to the floor, barely noticing the knot on the side of his own head. He lay there for as long as he dared before pulling himself to his feet and staggering to the toilets.

The lukewarm recycled tap did a poor job on his hands and no matter how hard he scrubbed with the bar’s watered down soap, bits of Andrew’s blood clung to his knuckles and under his nails. In the engraving on his ring.

He took it off, twisting to get it past the callouses, and held it up to the light. Dingy rust filled in the swooping cursive ‘Ja’ on the engraving. Shoulders slumped, he fought the tightening in his throat, the burning behind his eyes. 

But he was spent. His eyes flickered weakly under the dingy bathroom lights. A sob ripped up from his throat and hot tears spilled over, dripping down his cheeks and his neck as he rubbed at his stained wedding ring under the faucet.

His wrist buzzed and hope sparked in his chest.

Hope quickly doused by the message on his comm. Instead of a message from Jan, from Pat, from the boys, a bold proximity warning scrolled across the tiny screen. 

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 100 YARDS AND CLOSING…

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 50 YARDS AND CLOSING…

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 10 YA—

A small blast was followed by the crash of the front door coming off its hinges. His ring hit the basin, rattling as it rolled around and down the open drain.

“Come out with your hands up! Come out—shit! Look what they did to him! Dear god…” The buzz of a dozen tazers more advanced than his own couldn’t cover the tremor in the pig’s voice. “Arms up! That’s an order!” 

Lucas’ comm hummed quietly, a constant vibration against his wrist now.

Auto-distress alert enabled. Contacting HQ in 30… 29… 28… 27…

“We have you surrounded!” Jackboots tromped down the old hardwood floors and came to a stop outside the locked bathroom door. Dust sprinkled from the hinges as they banged on it. “Come out or we’re coming in!”

Lucas turned off the water and watched the numbers tick before tapping Disable just as the distress call countdown hit 1.

His comm screen went dark and he wiped his hands on his pants. “Be out in just a mo’!” he sing-songed. Only Jan would’ve caught the hitch in his voice. Well, Pat, too, most likely. But they weren’t here to care.

He checked the mirror, drying his face and smoothing back his hair. He smiled at the dim but growing amber rings around his eyes, then turned and opened the door.

~

Rain and hail drummed against the hull, a syncopated beat that dragged Lucas from a deep sleep. He’d been dreaming of home again, of the boys chasing each other through the halls. Pat’s more Teddy Bear-than-Papa Bear warnings to slow down. Re promising Pat they’d try before erupting in laughter with Ro, a soft, calm laugh, nothing like his laughter the last time he’d seen him. 

Jan’s smooth hot toddy voice, spice and heat and comfort. His hand, ungloved, unshielded, carding through his hair. 

Lucas leaned back and shook his head to clear away the clingy wisps of dream from his mind.

But Jan’s voice only grew louder. 

-”We need to talk, Hesper. Where can I find you?”-

Amber light bled through his eyelashes and he smiled. -”Mmm… So formal, ma cheri,”- he purred back. -”And yet so rude! Not even a ‘good morning, how did you sleep? How would you like your tea?”-

Jan’s shield was strong, nothing but a faint buzz was his answer.

He was close. Lucas checked the local time. Technically morning, though the sun wouldn’t be up for hours. It had been winter when they’d met, too. He shook off the thought and lit up the room with his eyes. 

-”Is it actually morning where you are?”- Jan asked as though he didn’t know. As though he wasn’t close enough for Lucas to smell his cologne.

Or maybe he just imagined it.

-”I have risen with the light…” Lucas pushed a memory of Jan’s smiling face back at him, hair mussed and splayed out on his pillow. He wasn’t sure how much got through Jan’s shield. Or who he was trying to hurt more. -”Does that count as morning in your calculation?”-

-”I wish to speak with you, Hesper,”- he sent, dull and flat and cold.

Lucas checked the sensors. The others weren’t with him. Jan had actually come alone. He chewed at his lip. Whatever this was, the platform was already dotted with intent detonators. If this was some surprise attack, Lucas would soon know. He sighed, his curiosity getting the better of him, and he lowered the gangway. 

“Welcome aboard, ma cheri,” he called down the open ramp. An elegant shadow in grey and yellow stepped into view and Lucas bowed, one arm sweeping out. “Wipe your feet before you come up, s’il vous plaît. It’s simply filthy out there.”

Hurrying back to his bunk, he pushed up the platform to hide his bedding and flipped down both benches on either side of the little table where he ate and planned and built most of his tools. He started to sit, then rose again and dispensed two cups of hot water for tea, dropping in sachets from his dwindling stash and set them down across from each other.

By the time Jan turned the corner into the main area of the ship, Lucas was sat back, right arm hooked over the back rest, left leg crossed over the other, ankle to knee. He lowered orange-tinted lenses over his eyes and smiled.

“Welcome aboard,” he repeated, biting his cheek when he realized he’d already run through his script.

“You already said that,” Jan replied, voice smooth. Well, mostly smooth, with only a tiny catch at the end which could just be a bit of his old morning hoarseness. Jan’s mind was completely shielded—fuck he’d gotten good at that—but there was a twitch in his left pinkie and he hesitated before sitting. “I appreciate the hospitality,” he nodded before switching their cups and taking a slow sip from the one that had been in front of Lucas.

“Ah, ma cheri, you wound me…” He shook his head and took the other tea cup, blowing away the steam. “You still don’t trust me.” Lucas clucked his tongue, grateful he’d thought to don his glasses as his eyes burned in the attempt to keep his voice light. “Well?” He looked up over the lip of his cup between sips. “While your company is a pleasure as always…” They could both pretend Jan’s cheeks warmed from the heat of his tea. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

Jan set down his cup and watched the steam rise. “To be completely honest with you, Luc, I’m not entirely sure why I’m here.”

All Lucas’ powers couldn’t stifle how much he wanted Jan to say his name again, how much he needed Jan to say his name again. He hid his face behind his cup and took another sip to buy time to settle his heart. “Interesting,” he murmured, cracked voice betraying him. Jan’s eyes shot up.

Lucas sat, silent and pinned down by his gaze, until Jan finally continued. “I suppose given everything that’s happened, I…” Jan addressed his cup, lifting it up for another slow sip. “I was so sure we’d done everything we could do to help Re. That we’d given him every safeguard, every protection possible. But…” He shook his head. “If I was wrong about that,” he whispered, more to himself than to Lucas. “What else have I been wrong about?”

“What’s happened?” Lucas leaned forward, reaching for Jan before he could even think to stop himself. “What’s wrong with Re?”

Jan leaned back, eyebrow raised, and sipped his tea. -”You don’t hear him?”- he asked silently.

Brow furrowed, Lucas closed his eyes and reached out. There was the buzz of Jan’s shield, a dark, staticy hole where his feelings should be. A couple asleep in their ship two platforms down. The rumble of families in the surrounding shelters. A little boy crying from a nightmare. And then…

Lucas gasped. Like finally noticing a song playing in the background, he suddenly registered the touch of Re’s mind in the distance. His cup clattered to the table and he leapt to his feet. Re! “You left him alone? Unshielded and alone and—”

“And happy,” Jan murmured to his cup, seated serenely across from him. “And not alone.”

Lucas slowly took his seat, stretching, feeling for any sense he could detect of Re’s thoughts over the distance. He’d moored this ship on the knife’s edge of his own abilities, near enough to hear everyone in HQ. Far enough he wouldn’t be too tempted to listen.

Re was completely unshielded but… he was calm. His thoughts rippled around him, gentle and rhythmic drops on a pond. Sleeping? Given the hour and the wordlessness of his thoughts, probably. A light sleep, no dreams yet, nothing that would trigger a strong emotional response at least. He was calm and content and… happy.

And Jan was right. Re was not alone.

“Is Ro—” He shook his head, answering his own question. No, if Ro had been with him, the boys most certainly would be up and making good trouble around—or outside—the house. No, he was with…

“He’s with Machina,” Jan answered.

“You left him alone with your twitchy bot?” Again, Lucas was on his feet, stomping toward the controls. “You trust him not to hurt him? I know you remember what hap—”

Jan followed and caught his arm, pulling him away from the pilot’s seat. His hand was warm through his gloves, gentle as it lingered on his forearm. “The Muse would never hurt Machina. Never intentionally.”

“I’m not talking about your fucking robot getting hurt! How do you know it won’t hurt Re?”

He never got to answer.

Lucas’ wrist buzzed half a second before a charge rocked the ship. “Get down!” he ordered and pushed Jan to the deck. Another blast hit the other side of the ship. 

The glow of his comm screen peeked out from under Jan’s sleeve and he pushed it back. Jan swore. “They’re close. Too many to count.”

Lucas nodded, shifting to tap at his own wrist. Bright white dots surrounded their location. The hull clanked, hurricane clamps tearing at the fuselage. “Damn.” 

Jan twisted beneath him, eyes wide and staring at his wrist. “You still wear your—”

He ignored the question and pushed to his feet before offering a hand to Jan. “You turned off your proximity alarm.”

“Had to,” he muttered, brushing imagined dust off his cloak. “It went off every day at the DC. Don’t avoid the question. Why do you still wear—”

Another blast rocked the ship. The corpos were getting bolder. And closer. A second blast was followed by a pained cry. They were now near enough to trigger the intent charges.

Lucas shook his head, eyeing the roof hatch. “We need to get out of here.”

The outer hull blew and jackboots tromped up the gangway, comms crackling. Lucas dropped the inner blast door just before they reached the top, then grabbed Jan and a pack. He sealed off the corridor from the inside just before the corpos entered the main control room.

They were now trapped inside the ship.

-“We need help,”- Jan corrected and pressed the HQ alert on his wrist. -“Now.”-

[potentialguybodyswaps]

Body Exchange Program Part 1:

It all started with an app service called the Body Exchange Program, or B.E.P. For short

The concept of the app was to make a way for people to experience different types of lives, and it did just that. By swapping 2 peoples body’s

Of course it charged a small fee tho, however nothing too extravagant, just 100 dollars, pretty cheep compared to flying or driving somewhere else in the world for a vacation…

I was your typical skater boi, skinny as fuck, 4pack abs, but faint, really only had them cause I’d be too high to remember to eat, oh did a mention a stoner haha? Vaped, even had a bunch of different colored wristbands I’d wear all the time.

Growing up was kinda boring in my small town, nothing really to do besides skate around town and get High with my friends, which I was perfectly fine with, until I discovered I could have more

When the internet first discovered this app, the world went crazy, and I could see why, a lot of out of pocket swaps that you really wouldn’t think were Consensual like 50 year old bears swapping with 20 year old twinks started happening, really strange when those same duos decided to change from the temporary option to permanent, which both accounts would have to go into there settings and select.

My story starts shortly after I made my account and Input all the typical information you would as if goin on a dating website, with a couple extreme questions for your account, like dick size, kinks, ideal body swap

Account summary:

Tanner:

Age: 18

height: 5’10

weight: 135

Location: Kansas

Penis size: 5.5 inches

Kinks: body swaps (duh?)

Ideal Bodyswap: city boy, college, fit

Interests: smoking pot and skateboarding with friends

End summary.

The next day, when I woke up a received a notification at like 2 AM from someone that was a 100% match… not hard when you have such a short requirement list, wanting to do a 72 hour switch for the weekend

It was from some guy named Kyle with a summary of his account

Kyle:

Age: 21

Height 6’2

Weight: 195

Location:Florida State

Penis size: 8 inches

Kinks: anal, Asian chicks, Bodyswaps

Ideal Bodyswap: country/small town, stoners , people with fun lives

Interests: working out, fucking, drinking

Not seeing a picture or anything I decided to just press accept… I mean after all Kyle fit all my Criteria, bear minimal I could hope for is he isn’t ugly or fat, but since he’s interested in working out, and fucking, he’s gotta be some sort of catch, and boy was I right

The moment I pressed accept a 15 second timer started warning me to prepare myself, so I sat down… but that still didn’t prepare me for what was waiting on the other side

I snapped back to consciousness to me suddenly flexing my muscles in front of a mirror

“Wow I’m a walking cliche” I said outloud, of course a gym rat would be wearing a wife beater and checking himself out in the mirror lol. but I can understand why, I look fucking great. I said to myself while continuing to flex, normally I wouldn’t cause a bag of bones like me had nothing to flex, but now that I do…. Well… you know what they say, when I’m Rome

At that point I started spouting off random shit just to hear myself talked, I found my new deeper voice amusing

After a short time of making poses and just making faces in the mirror taking in my new alpha jock boy look, I receive a messaged from my old account

Tanner(really Kyle): hey bro, thanks for swapping with me, you’re kinda a bit scrawnier than I expected but at 135, idk what I should have expected haha. Anyways like I said thanks, I kinda just want to take a break from the way I party all the time, kinda hard to get and smoke weed around there without getting busted by cops or ratted out on by some of the basic bitches there…

Kyle (really tanner) it’s all good man, ya I really just wanted to get that college experience for a bit, go to some parties myself haha, I’ll be sure to keep up that reputation you clearly have haha. And ya, I know I’m scrawny, hence why I wanted to swap with someone fit, anything I should know about?

Tanner: ya, when you go to a party and the bitches try to get with you, try not to get hard untill it’s time to lay it down, otherwise my dick kinda hurts from being restrained in my pants, and the bulge is very noticeable too when it happens… guess I’m also curious what having a average dick is like, weird that I can’t swing it anymore

Kyle: thanks for the tip

I immediately closed out the app and proceeded to tear my shorts down at the speed of which you’d think someone was about to get assaulted, and they/it was about to get assaulted by my hand

“Jesus Christ” I said shaking to the left and right, I can actively smack myself with my dick, that’s so cool bro…

I started going though his texts, with my hand slowly stroking my new huge rod, untill I found a recent text from some chick that invited me to a party, scrolling up though it I saw her nudes she had sent Kyle before

My semi grew into a full on hard on and at that point I had to use all 8 inches of my glory, right?

After I busted a nut I left the mess on me and sent her a picture of it saying “can’t wait to see you”

When I showed up to the party I was immediately greeted with a budlight platinum, and was surrounded by friends/other party goers who new me

After having 6 beers, shit talkin with the new homies and trying not to blow my cover, that I’m not really Kyle, I finally saw the chick I was texting earlier and once we made eye contact, she made a jerkin motion with her head to the stairs, which she then went up.

Feelin a hardon starting to come, I quickly let my friends know I had to go, and rushed up the stairs, once I broke out of the group I could hear one shout “ya right, your going to fuck Jessica aren’t you!?” I turn around walking backwards and yell “fuck ya bro” as I corrected myself and bolted up the stairs

Once I found what room she was in, she was already naked, bent over, hands tied to the bed post with a ball gag in her mouth, she clearly knew what this guy liked, and not wanting to cause suspicion, I went with it

Climbing onto the bed I dropped my pants and spit onto my dick, sliding it into her ass, i came here to fuck, and fucking the dog shit out of her is what I was gonna do.

After that night I knew I couldn’t give this life up. Drunkenly checking the settings of the app I saw it, the make permanent switch

I clicked it and it sent me a message sayin waiting for the other swapper to agree

No way in hell was he gonna agree to keep my twinky body and lose almost 3 inches… “FUCK how can I make this permanent” I thought to myself

Rereading our messages it hit me, I’m signed in as him, all I have to do is sign into my account and accept, I mean it’s like 3 A.M, no way is he up/received this yet

So that’s what I do, moment I agreed to make permanent, my dick got rock hard at the fact that this is how ima always be now, college city boy, big dick alpha jock, could I have even asked for a better combo!

Next morning I got a message from Kyle from his account, he must have signed into his account since I signed him out of mine

Kyle: aye bro you ready to swap back yet? I kinda got caught smoking pot at the park in your body and got arrested, your other stoner friends bailed me out bro…

Tanner: dam that sucks bro, too bad it’s not a me problem tho

Kyle, how is it not a you problem? I kinda fucked up and I’m sorry bro

Tanner:cause, it’s your body now, the swap is permanent, check the settings

Kyle: …..

Kyle: wtf bro this isn’t what I asked for, I just wanted to smoke some pot and maybe not have such painful erections when my jeans can barely hold my dick for a bit

Tanner: good then bro, glad your happy you got what you wanted, I’m happy too, this body is fucking rad my guy, I don’t know why you’d give it up, I typed gaslighting the fuck out of him

Kyle: idk how you did it, but I know I didn’t agree to a permanent swap, my default setting is temporary and I don’t accept random permanent requests… nor would I send one

Tanner: oh but you did ;)

Kyle: just wait till I contact support, I hope they put you in the body of a fat old man for punishment. Rot in hell asshole

Edit: sorry for another fucking mini Novel basically lol

I’d like to give @tfstation a special thank you for letting me use one of his old story concepts (the concept of BEP, not the actual story, I wrote that) anyways lemme know what y’all think!!!!

[uglydollyboy]

What do I feel for him¿ I get that question all the time so I decided to make a post about it. If you want, you can read it completely.

~Dennis Nilsen~

First of all, who is Dennis¿

Dennis Andrew Nilsen was a serial killer known as the Kindly Killer, The Muswell Hill Murderer and the Killer Of The Tie.

He murdered atleast 12 young men until 1983

He liked to be called "Des" by people and he worked as a police officer and a Civil Servant. He died in prison at the age of 72 years old in may 2018 in pain because of internal bleeding. He has a book, his autobiography "The History Of A Drowing Boy" and he has another book written by Brian Masters called "Killing For Company"

He had a dog named Bleep, who was put down after his arrest and he even had budgies named Hamish and Tweetles. And apparently he had a cat too called DD

I wanna clear out that I won't call him "Des" because I don't think he'll let me, or I even deserve to call him Des

Now that you have simple information, I'll put how he was.

Dennis was a very VERY romantic person. If you analize who he was by reading his book and seeing his views on some things and more, you'll notice that he was a romantic, profound, poetic, gentle and unique man. Not to mention handsome as well

He used to love music, cinema and arts. He loved the movie Psycho, loved classical music and loved a painting called "The Raft Of The Medusa"

He was a very intelligent man¡ He was very smart, he had a lot of culture in different stuff. He was a gentle and loving man because of how he acted with the bodies.

Dennis would keep the bodies and the difference with Jeff Dahmer was that Dennis would sleep, dress up, undress and even talk to the bodies. One of his victims had suicide marks on his wrists, and after getting killed by Dennis, one of the things Nilsen thought was that nobody was able to hurt him anymore.

Dennis NEVER had sex with a dead body, the only thing he did was please himself without even touching the body.

Dennis was (you can confirm this by many documentaries) known as a boring guy who had no social life and if he had an idea, he would repeat it over and over and over again.

His views are so profound and so beautiful, changes your point of view on that specific thing immediately

Now that you know that, Let's talk about my twitter.

I used to think that he was just another serial killer and that's it. How stupid I was...

He became the love of my life after I find out who he actually was thanks to someone in twitter, but by the time I find out who he was I was already in a shit position.

I made fun of him and I even talked about how I wanted to fuck him, which made that person in Twitter kinda hate me for all of those ridiculous things I said and posted about.

It was too late, I was stupid enough to disrespect who he was. It's okay to make jokes about him, but not the way I did. What I did is unforgivable.

Now with that out of the way. To finish this whole yap, This is how I feel.

I am in a very deep love with Dennis Nilsen. You did not get it wrong. I'm in love with a serial killer.

I'm in love with a serial killer. Did I cross the line there¿

He is a big part of me, I never felt such deep love and affection for someone, it might seem fake what I say, no need to remind me.

But believe me please, I feel so bad for what I did, making fun of him and more. Please... I'm deeply sorry for that.

I'm so fucking stupid for thinking that he was just one more serial killer. You have no idea how guilty and bad I feel for not sending him just one letter.

If I just knew him before... the letters I would've sent... I cry and wish every night to dream with him but It doesn't work. NOTHING WORKS. Even hugging my pillow every single night

I'm so fucking stressed about this, mostly with the fact that he would hate me if he was alive. I am not a biological boy with blonde straight hair and blue eyes, doll looking and with a lot of culture in music and cinema

I'm an ugly person who thinks he is a boy. I would SACRIFICE, I want to sacrifice who I am just for him to like me as a person or friend atleast.

I keep suffering for a dead man that would never like me no matter how much I change, how much I try. He will never like me as much as he would like Zeynep.

I try and try and try to get into his things. But still, that won't make me a better person.

If I could just see him one more time, That's enough for me. Hearing his voice one more time it's enough as well.

He would think I'm such a cry baby and a loser for the things I feel. But atleast he has an opinion of me.

I'm desperate to get something of him, just to feel like he is here again. I have lots of pictures of him in my room, all put around my bed and wall, thinking that he is listening to me talking or doing something else. But reality is that... No. He is not here.

My eyes are swollen from crying last night and my voice is shit for screaming how much I love him all the time. If I just knew him before, I would've sent all those letters I have. Even if he didn't reply to them, atleast I sent them to him, right¿

I know that he hates me, no need to remind me. But I still can't help the fact that I adore him with all my heart. All my friends and family are TIRED of me saying how much I love him.

I... I just want him to read my letters, see me and tell me what he thinks of me. But that's not possible anymore.

I'm currently crying while writing this, sorry Dennis because I'm such a cry baby and a loser.

I spoke to my psychologist about Dennis because I'm confused, I don't know if my love for him is good or bad, so she told me to make a list with good and bad things about loving him. Currently I keep doing that list

I'll keep updating this probably until I'm satisfied, one more time. I'm sorry for all the things I did and said about him, I'm sorry if I annoy you all the time. I understand if you don't wanna be friends with me.

If you reached this part, woah, thank you for reading. I love you

[ozimagines]

(DISCLAIMER: I am a severe bipolar depressant who has been in two different psychiatric wards in my life. This is based off of my experiences. I am not disrespecting mental illnesses. On the contrary, I think we treat people with mental illnesses like prisoners in these facilities, or at least the ones I’ve been forced into.)

Oz Mental Health/ Asylum AU

The juices we get in asylums were smaller than the ones they got in Oz, but you get the picture. Prison food = asylum food. (Once got served pasta that was just cold pasta, mayo, carrots, and cheddar cheese. Do not recommend.)

Idk where anyone else is from but my state has the Baker Act where a doctor or police officer (yeah idk how that’s allowed) will determine you’re a danger to yourself or others and involuntarily put you in an asylum for up to 72 hours in which case the Baker Act can be extended if “necessary”. After a certain amount of time you can go before a judge and try to get the Baker Act overturned. It doesn’t always work.

^And the fun thing is that they make you pay for the stay. Hundreds of dollars a day. Even if you can’t afford it, you can’t opt out if you’re Baker Acted. If you’ve got good insurance it’ll pay for about 75%, but as a symptom of many disorders is being bad with money… you see the cycle?

^And you know Mental Health AU Kareem Said is all over that shit. The cycle of poverty and depression. And especially the demographics they affect.

“You’re in my asylum now.”

Everyone in the has a reason and a status⬇️

Vern Schillinger: Delusions of grandeur, danger to others, Status: INVOLUNTARY [EXTENDED]

Tobias Beecher: PTSD, Addiction Status: VOLUNTARY

Miguel Alvarez: Psychotic breaks, depression, suicidal ideation/attempts Status: INVOLUNTARY

You get the picture.

We played blackjack for each other’s socks once. And when it got cold we just bet desserts. Imagine them doing that.

The “hacks” for us were the orderlies. Some were nice, to be clear. Like Murphy. Some just taunted us. Howell. We had doctors who cared. Nathan. We had doctors who didn’t. Garvey.

We always talked about what we would do when we “got out”. And we phrased it just like that.

Stanislavsky: “bubble baths.”

O’Reily: “fuck an 18 year old virgin”

We almost never heard music. One time, an orderly was playing a song off his computer. Last Dance for Mary Jane by Tom Petty. I asked him to turn it up and we just danced for three minutes. That would be McManus. Adding just a touch of humanity.

We were luckier than some Oz guys in that we got “outside” time. It was a bricked in concrete courtyard about the size of a bedroom with screen overhead. I imagine some of the Oz guys sitting out there for group.

GROUP! Like class for Oz, it’s not mandatory but it does make you smell sweeter when you’re trying to get out.

I keep picturing McManus as one of the group instructors.

“Draw something that you enjoy doing. Draw something you can’t live without. Draw something…”

“I drew weed, man, can I leave?” -Chico

Some people were quiet and others boisterous. I think people have this view that everyone in a ward is in the middle of a psychotic episode or is a vegetable. It’s not the case. Some are so lively it’ll break your hearts.

I can imagine this AU Miguel sitting, looking out a thin, screened window, trying to see something outside worth living for.

Chico, boisterously explaining that he doesn’t belong there. That he’s not a nut case and they can let him leave.

Busmalis and Rebadow knowing they probably never will.

The detailing in these places is immaculate and every single part will make you cry. We have hang proof doorknobs. Markers instead of pens. Softcover books only. I understand why it has to be that way, but as Kareem Said would point out, you’ve cured the symptoms but not the sickness. We wouldn’t need those if we had proper medical care and were able to manage the illness.

This is sadder than most AUs and I’m sorry for that but the US treats it’s mentally ill like it treats its criminals; like once you do or think something you cease to be a person. I don’t know if this will be a welcome post, but I thought I’d mix a little Oz with a little modern day activism. That’s what Oz was. The poor treatment of prisoners in the U.S. I present, The Oswald Psychiatric Hospital, North wing, Emerald City, poor treatment of a different type of prisoner.

We’re people. We deserve clothes that aren’t scrubs and filthy. We deserve

Like Oz, there is no “out”. Even when you’re on the outside, your problems are still yours. And you look back at the gates you wanted so much to be on the other side of and wonder: now what?

[subbyprincessb]

5, 6, 8, 11, 14, 24, 25, 28, 29, 30, 47, 51, 56, 58, 62, 63, 64, 65, 67, 69, 70, 71, 72, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 81 ... a lot I know. sorry baby

5. Are you in love?

I wouldn’t say I am in love, no.

6. Are you single this year?

Technically I’m married.

8. Describe your crush

Lol. Nice body, nicer cock hahahah

11. Do you ever want to get married?

I am married, but would I get married again? Hm I don’t know. Maybe if I found the right person haha

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?

I do :)

24. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

To my husband? No. To someone else? Probably not unless I found the right person but right now that’s the last thing I’m thinking about 🙃

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?

Hmm well it’s December and the year is almost over and like I said I’m married so lol

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

Yes

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?

Yes, a guy I dated when I was younger. I cheated on him with a friend. And I mean if you wanna call what I am doing now cheating, then yes. But I’m in a loveless marriage. That I plan on leaving. And my husband knows I plan on it. 🤷🏼‍♀️

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?

Yes, I’d love to get a breast lift. And my lips done. But really that’s about it.

47. How old are you?

29 :)

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

My children lol

56. State 8 facts about your body

1. I had 3 children

2. When I’m about to get my period I get horrible migraines

3. Lol, so I have a toe, that is the same size as my pinkie to next to it. I’ll never show it🙃

4. I have a big nose and I hate it

5. My pussy is fat 😭

6. My skin is soft

7. My eyes are a blue green

8. I bite my nails

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

1. Be obsessive 2. Make me laugh 3. Show me I’m worth it 4. Care about my interests 5. Obviously you have to like kids haha

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

Be obsessive

63. What is your definition of “having sex”?

Foreplay, cuddles, after care and me sitting on your cock 🙃💕

64. What is your definition of cheating?

I think actually seeking out and meeting up in secret, like physical intimacy and having a whole ass relationship with another person, physically and not leaving your partner.

65. What is your favourite foreplay routine?

Fingering/eating me out for hours until I’m dripping wet and begging for your cock

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?

Nice dinner and a midnight stroll on the beach. Lots of talking included maybe skinny dipping if the weather is warm enough

69. What turns you off?

When someone doesn’t respect my boundaries

70. What turns you on?

Physically: neck kisses, butt grabs, soft touches, when they do the little thing like grabbing me by the back of my neck lol

Using their words: communication, describing in detail how they are going to ruin me, sending me dick pictures lmao or cum videos ugggghhh (consensually ofc)

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?

I unfortunately don’t remember my dreams

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?

Good girl, lots of praise, moaning ugh it drives me wild when a man whimpers 🫠 when I’m told how well I’m doing while I’m being ruined and a drooling whimpering mess haha

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

I really care about looks. As shallow as I sound I don’t think I could date someone I found unattractive. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I like a nice jawline, I like skinny fit men, plump lips. Idk sorry lol

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

Wow I don’t know it’s been a while and I can’t remember honestly.

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

Planning dates, setting up a whole surprise birthday party, making dinner every night lol idk I think I do sweet things on the daily. I’m also just a sweet person. I’d you ever date me that’s one thing I love giving gifts random gifts, surprises and such but I hate surprises.

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

Okay so here’s the thing. I don’t see a huge issue with it, my limit personally being 29 is I would date someone 45. But like a 30 year old has no business dating someone who is 18. One because someone who is 18 isn’t experiencing the same things as a 30 year old. And those two people are in different places in their lives. Like I would never date someone who is 18 let alone younger than like 24 hahah idk that’s just me though. Like me being 30 I can relate to someone who is 45 because I’m older I’ve experienced life already someone who is 18 hasn’t done the same things as me. I don’t see us having anything in common. Don’t care for it honestly.

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

Earlier today lol. When I was thinking about my crush, and how he could potentially be talking to other people hahaha. I get stuck in my head a lot 🙃

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

1. Ohhhh this guy named Alex 💕

2. Oscar Isaac

3. I’m gonna expose myself for this one, but if you know me, or talked to me about my writing, I write fanfiction. Especially about James Cameron’s avatar. Haha so Jake sully from avatar. It feeds into my size kink okay 🙃

4. My bestie Kat, she is so beautiful and she is my soulmate!

5. And I’m gonna say myself because I think I do have a pretty attractive face :)

[senblades]

I blink and then there's suddenly 4 new chapters of fftsr... wowzers!

chapter 69: oh okay have fun goro with your NEW BITCHASS PERSONA THAT YOU FUCKING HATE coming to you in t-minus 3 rank ups (potentially less)!! also thank you ann for showing up I fear makoto and goro would have killed themselves and/or each other if you weren't there. emotional support 1/4 white girl

chapter 70: damn makoto's stir fry left uneaten... damn :/ at least she gets to actively cause problems on purpose for sae - goro: hey niijima what the fuck did you do makoto: nothing too much really :) sis did that all herself :) ann: girl you sure - chapter 71: ouch. owie. ren :((((( don't worry my guy the wedding WILL be back on... :(((((( can we have a shout out to morgana being like "I know what you are" to ren? I just think morgana being like that one homophobic dog is pretty funny. really fun scene overall... I very much like the phantom thieves (unfortunately for goro, he is starting to do so as well)

also conveniently ignoring the 15 year olds agreeing to invade a palace by themselves, which has the highest levels in game ^_^ nothing to worry about!!! just girls doing girl things!!!

(ie author's note: I AM ALSO A MAJOR FAN OF TGAA. PROBABLY MY FAV AA GAMES TBH.)

chapter 72: opening up with makoto being on that haterisms grind we love to see it (unfortunately for her she is starting to care about akechi. disturbing!)

and then we either a) have makoto cringe significantly at the thought of holding hands or b) she's blushing. makoto girlie now is not the time to partake in pride month it's not even june!!!!

oh dear makoto is Not Having Fun. oh well! she does not get maiming and killing privileges in the coliseum! sad!

"does the sight of your own corpse not bother you" girl you have NO idea

okay so never mind makoto DOES get to kill maim and murder!!! she only did it with the power of friendship but she did it!! questionable slay!!!

man. what a ride. goro needs to throw hands with everyone without personas I think it would be therapeutic for him

fdshjfkds ah yes.... going back to a weekly schedule will do that HAHAHA

[emotional support 1/4 white girl] LMAOOO gotta have one.

Makoto did Not Expect this turn of events. She is giving her sister some side eye at the moment

[I just think morgana being like that one homophobic dog is pretty funny.] this is his vibe exactly

[(ie author's note: I AM ALSO A MAJOR FAN OF TGAA. PROBABLY MY FAV AA GAMES TBH.)] YES. YES YES. hoooo boyyyyyyy i have a physical need to talk about tgaa you have no idea. Expect art soon-ish. and maybe a oneshot.

dirsturbing indeed.... and HAHAHA Makoto is definitely cringing at the thought. She's gone full primary school mode with the "ewwww cooties" nonsense

what a ride indeed...

ty very much for both the plethora of kind words and also making me laugh! <3 <3 <3

[teeth--thief]

i’d love to hear your opinion on Akimov as well! i tried to get all the info i can get online, but for some reason i feel like i’m only scratching the surface and there’s more to him! if you’d like i wouldn’t mind an info dump on Akimov from you

I consider it absolutely criminal that the day I got this ask That Chernobyl Guy released a video on him... like, girl... now I'm gonna look like I'm repeating you 🙄 No, but, in all seriousness, his video is really good! Even if he didn't, unfortunately, say anything we (or at least I) hadn't already known.

No wonder you feel this way - I'm sure everyone trying to learn anything about him does. There's just so so little on him out there. I understand that it is probably because his immediate family wanted to protect themselves - after all, the public's opinion wasn't exactly favourable of the operators for quite some time. You gotta give your kids a chance to grow up in as normal of an environment as possible, right? Anyhow, this is written without all that "ah yes, he was born in May and died in--" bs, I'll try to include mostly lesser known facts, I'm under the assumption that you already know all that and there's really no need for you to read it all over again just to learn absolutely nothing new.

There aren't many sources on him at all, all the books, except for (oh the horrors) Medvedev's book, which includes a statement from his wife, spare his person just a few words, usually more or less always the same. Smart, professional, near-sighted, dedicated party man (with a mustache!) is always the jest of it, you'll see.

We have about... what? Three and a half confirmed pictures of him? The rest is oh yeah, someone said that random guy with glasses is him so it must be true! And because we have so few pictures that are for sure him, it's that much harder to determine whether these really are him or not.

From this little piece of official documentation we find out... nothing revolutionary:

parents: Zinaida Timofeevna (1929) and Fyodor Vasilyevich (1930)

wife: Lyubov Nikolayevna

sons: Aleksey (1977) and Konstantin (1982)

started working in the ChNPP on 12.09.79

> Ultra useless information from here include:

his address (before moving to Prypiat, obviously): Moscow, Frunzenskiy district, Khoroshevskoye highway, house 68 apt 72

address of his parents: Arkhangelsk region, Severodvinsk, Lenina street, house 7, apt 8 (?)

From this interview- one of the... well, the only one, as far as I know - we also learn that his grandparents (from his father's side, judging by the patronymic alone) were Vasily and Nyura. His younger brothers' names were Konstantin and Fyodor (which would make him Fyodor Fyodorovich... y'all really went off with this one).

We know what became of his two kids or wife - not even his childhood friend, the author of the article above, does. The last name Akimov is not at all an uncommon one and, besides, if either of them ever felt like speaking with anyone, I'd assume they would have done that by now. Hell, even their kids, if they have any, are probably either teens or in their twenties by now, they could have said something... shared a picture, whatever. But nobody has done that, so they probably value their privacy and want to be left alone.

Unless I'm misunderstanding something, he was a member of the CPSU (Communist Party of the Soviet Union) and a member of Pripyat Gorkom from 1977. Gorkom is a city level of Party Committee.

I've tried to compile all the bits describing him from any book I could think of that has something, anything, on him:

G. Medvedev (eugh) describes him as follows in Chernobyl Notebook:

Aleksandr Akimov, a strapping and strong 35-year-old lad with a broad rosy-cheeked face, wearing glasses, with a dark wavy head of hair, powdered now with radioactive dust, rushed around without knowing what to do (...)

First of all, he was most definitely not 35. Second of all... he was balding. Like balding-balding. Who exactly were you looking at when writing that, huh, Medvedev? Because it was not Akimov, that's for sure.

In Midnight in Chernobyl he's described as follows:

Akimov, a gangling thirty-two-year-old with thick glasses, a receding hairline, and a small mustache, was a committed Communist and one of the most knowledgeable technicians at the plant. He and his wife, Luba, were the parents of two young boys, and he spent his spare time reading historical biographies or hunting hare and duck with his Winchester rifle on the Pripyat marshes. Akimov was clever, competent, and well liked, but his colleagues agreed that he was easily pushed around by those above him.

God damnit, you guys figure it out finally - was he strapping and strong or was he gangling? I'm no expert on words but those seem to not work together too well. Also... small mustache? I'd say it's pretty average sized, actually... Have you seen it? It looks like the propellers of a helicopter...

From Chernobyl 01:23:40 we get:

Akimov was Russian, like most senior staff at the plant. Born on May 6th 1953, in the country’s third-largest city, Novosibirsk, he graduated from the Moscow Power Engineering Institute in 1976 with a degree in thermal power automation processes, before moving to the Chernobyl plant in 1979 as a turbine engineer.

Go girl, give us nothing! Nothing new, how wonderful.

S. Plokhy's Chernobyl: History of a Tragedy:

(...) Aleksandr Akimov, a thirty-three-year-old engineer with ten years of experience at the Chernobyl plant. Bespectacled and sporting a fashionable moustache, Akimov was regarded as competent, friendly, and susceptible to pressure from the higher-ups. A member of Prypiat’s Communist Party committee, he was clearly on his way up—he had been appointed head of shift only four months earlier.

Paul Read's Ablaze contains a much longer description than other books - we even get a bit more information on Lyubov:

(...) Among Inze’s closest friends was Luba, the wife of Alexander Akimov, whom Razim had known at the Institute in Moscow. Akimov had gone on to study at Zukh-Hydroprojekt, with the designers of the power station, and it was here that he had met Luba, also the daughter of an army officer and a student in the same department. Akimov had a gangling figure, thick glasses, a high forehead, receding hair and a small moustache. Luba was a tall, skinny girl with a delicate constitution, short dark hair and a sophisticated sense of humour. She loathed pretentiousness of a bourgeois kind, and was choosy about her friends.

Upon graduating, Akimov was sent to work for Zukh-Hydroprojekt in Chernobyl, and Luba went with him as his wife. They moved straight into a flat in Pripyat, where Luba gave birth to their first child. They, too, embarked upon the life at Chernobyl with the greatest enthusiasm. Akimov worked hard to establish his professional reputation; he also joined the party. In his free time, he read historical biographies, subscribed to magazines on military technology, and went after duck and hare with his Winchester rifle. The Akimovs’ life was not without trouble. Their second child was born with a twisted hip: every two weeks Luba had to make the five-hour journey on the hydrofoil to take her baby to see a specialist in Kiev.

(...)

Akimov, (...) , served as Communist party secretary for the unit – a chore that reflected his commitment to communism and also helped his career.

This book is also where the almost iconic now bit comes from:

When given the task of drawing up a programme for such a hypothetical accident, Alexander Akimov calculated a probability factor of one in ten million per year.

In From Chernobyl to Fukushima by N. Karpan we learn that he's remembered as such:

"Sasha Akimov was an intelligent, educated guy. He graduated from Moscow Energy Institute. His interests were not limited to his work only, he had many different hobbies, read a lot, loved his children and cared for them affectionately... He was very proud of his children, they started to read at five, he regularly spent a lot of his time with his children and liked to tell us about them. He was very fond of his car and maintained it in a perfect order" - (Igor Kazachkov, the reactor unit shift manager).

"He was naturally inclined to follow rules" - (Aleksandr Orlenko, the Electric Section shift manager).

"Akimov was a very orderly person, it was impossible to force him to violate a rule. He was very experienced" - (Boris Rogozhkin, the NPP shift manager).

[poussacha]

found this on my old facebook page and i'm supposed to be working so naturally i'm doing this instead

1. Real name → spreadsheet or talls 2. Nickname(s) → talls, tally, headshrimp, doe, ss 3. Status → alive 4. Zodiac sign → leo 5. Male or female → lmao. naw. 6. Elementary School → too many 7. Middle School → too many 8. High School → graduate  10. Hair color → black 11. Long or short → long 12. Loud or Quiet → yes 13. Sweats or Jeans → currently wearing slacks 14. Phone or Camera → phone 15. Health freak → does helth count 17. Do you have a crush on someone? → not really, no 18. Eat or Drink → drink 19. Piercings → ears 21. Water or Fire → listen to me. i have this very interesting idea about a water bender that can heat water. NOT a fire bender. a water bender, but i haven't done any research on what happens to water molecules when they heat up and how a bender of ONLY water could do that, but like i figure if water benders can make ice they can probably ALSO heat water? food for thought 22. Love of your life or 4 Billion Dollars → i'm gonna take the money because with 4 billion dollars my ass can save LIVES. i don't care about falling in love with someone romantically, i just want to help people. FIRSTS:  23. First fear → abandonment 24. First best friend → mindy 25. First award → most improved in science or something 26. First crush → some guy named scott 27. First pet → sherikhan 28. First big vacation → not sure i've ever done one of those 30. First big birthday → fifth? ninth? who can remember their childhood. not this bitch. CURRENTLY:  49. Eating → fruity pebbles 50. Drinking → pinot noir 52. I'm about to → finish this thing i'm working on 53. Listening to → starstruck - christopher wilde 54. Plans for today → the days over bestie it's like midnight 55. Waiting for → me to get my head out of my ass and finish this stupid newsletter for my fucking job so i can go to bed. YOUR FUTURE:  58. Want kids?→ who has money for that  59. Want to get married? no lol 60. What careers do you have in mind? considering i'm 10 years deep in a marketing and communications career, i obviously want to leave all of that behind to own a bookstore in a sleepy sea side town in ireland WHICH IS BETTER WITH GUYS/WOMEN?  68. Lips or eyes → eyes 70. Shorter or taller? → idk man 72. Romantic or spontaneous → no thanks 73. Nice Legs or belly?→ i'm telling on myself, but belly. when bellies are just delicately round i'm like ohhhh noooo. 74. Sensitive or loud → sensitive 75. Hook-up or relationship → seeing my old answers knowing i'm aroace is a whole fuckin thing 77. Drama or Super Shy → i did used to go by the nickname drama HAVE YOU EVER:  80. Lost glasses/contacts → yea 81. Ran away from home → yea but it was like down the street for a few hours nothing major 82. Hold a gun/knife for self defense → i'm femme presenting. OBVIOUSLY i have. 83. Killed somebody → i'm too nice for th at 84. Been Heartbroken → oh a bunch 85. Been arrested → unfortunately 87. Cried when someone died → yeah DO YOU BELIEVE IN:  89. Yourself → not really 90. Miracles → i'mma need one to find a new job 91. Love at first sight → no 92. Heaven → yes, but also no? 93. Santa Claus → i believe in an arch elf named bernard tbh 94. Sex on the first date → this is such a weird question because i'm aroace but i've done this before. but i also thought the only way to receive love was through sex. so i doubt i would do this now. i just don't really care about sex. 95. Kiss on the first date → barf. ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:  97. Is there one person you want to be with right now more than others → i can't really think of anyone i wanna be with. maybe nelly? i miss her. but tbh i'm perfectly content being home with my cats 98. Are you seriously happy with where you are in life → yes and no 99. Do you believe in God → i don't know how to answer this

[mrmonster459]

My Grandfather vs Sheriff Jones

The United States of America

February 1942

We were living in a small, rural farming village out in the desert. For the most part, things were quiet, and uninteresting. We went about our days, in peace, and went home.

But then, the Sheriff came with the bad news. He went to our part of town, the neighborhood of farm houses owned almost exclusively by the 5 or 6 Japanese families of the town, to tell us the news we had been told to expect but hoped wouldn’t.

“ATTENTION ALL JAPANESE!” Sheriff Jones shouted. “I’m here to inform you that you have 72 hours to settle all your affairs. After that, you will report to Casa Azul Relocation Camp.”

“What?” My grandfather asked. “This is an outrage. We have done nothing wrong. We had nothing to do with the attack on Pearl Harbor.”

Not many men in the county had what it took to stand up to the Sheriff. Sheriff Jones was a man you did not want to mess with. He may not have looked it, being at least 40 years old & quite overweight, but he was a skilled fighter. His weekend hobbies were boxing and wrestling. He was known to settle his disputes by challenging his enemies to fights (and he’d rarely if ever lose).

“Doesn’t matter.” The Sheriff said. “I have my orders, and you will either comply, or I will make you.”

He got back in his car and drove away. My grandfather, the community’s unofficial leader, turned and said “You heard the man, time to get ready.”

_______

My grandfather and I drove into the city to sell the last of our crop for the season. We truly had no idea what would become of our family farm while we were gone, but at least we could get one last batch of our pistachio crop to the market.

After dropping them off, a group of local young men approached us. Those three assholes were known for starting trouble, but generally stayed out of our way. But today, probably emboldened by the Sheriff’s news, they were even worse than normal.

“Hey, aren’t you guys supposed to be getting ready to get out of here?” One of them, I believe his name was Dwight, asked as he laughed to himself.

“What, you think this is funny?” My grandfather asked. “That we’re being separated from our homes, our whole lives being upended.”

“Yeah, I do.” Dwight replied. “I’m sure once you’re gone, your homes are gonna sell for dirt, and then, we can piss all over your…”

My grandfather then punched him, square in the face. Dwight then said “Looks like grandpa here wants to get hurt. Let’s give him what he wants.”

Dwight then came at him with a haymaker punch. My grandfather evaded it, dove in close, grabbed him by the arm, twisted around, and picked Dwight up only to slam him onto the ground.

Dwight’s friends came running over to help, but neither lasted long. My grandfather kicked one of them in the stomach, and punched the other in the face, knocking out both in just a few moments.

“What, that all you assholes got?” My grandfather sarcastically asked as he put Dwight in an armbar. “What, just a few seconds ago you were talking about pissing in my house, what happened?”

“Grandpa, I think they’ve had enough.” I said, as I started to get scared.

He let Dwight go and we went home.

____

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you.” My grandfather said. “But I guess it’s now. When I was younger, I was the head sensei of a dojo, in Japan. Taught karate and judo. But one day, the Imperial Army attempted to buy me out, force me to train their army, forced me to get them ready for war. I took your mother, and we left Japan. Ended up here in America, where I put martial arts behind me.”

“Behind you? You need to stop the Sheriff?”

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“If any of us can beat him, you can.”

“Sorry honey, that’s not happening.” He said. “I’m sorry you had to see me fight today, but that’s not something I want to make a habit of.”

“But, you can do something. You can fight him, and you can win.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” He said.

And then, I lost my temper. “Fine, but when we lose everything, just know that you could have helped, but you chose not to.”

_____

On the day the bus came, my grandfather left early to talk to the Sheriff.

“Sheriff Jones, I have a challenge for you.” He announced. “I think you’ll find it interesting.”

The Sheriff’s face perked up like a kid given money to go to a candy store. “What kind of challenge?”

“A fight. Just you and me. No weapons, hand to hand only. I win, that bus turns around and you forget about your orders. You win, we all go peacefully.”

The Sheriff handed the deputy his weapons belt and said “You’re on. Deputy, start our match.”

_______

“In three…two…FIGHT!” The Deputy shouted, and just like that, they were at it.

The Sheriff began the fight by throwing a jab-jab-cross combo to my grandfather’s face. He blocked all the Sheriff’s punches, but then, the Sheriff dove in low and grabbed his leg. He then took him to the ground, and started pounding on him with his fists.

When the Sheriff thought my father was knocked out, he got up and said “Well, glad this was settled. Now, everyone get onto the bus or I’ll…”

However, the Sheriff was wrong. My grandfather picked himself up off the ground. The Sheriff turned and saw him, but it was too little too late; my grandfather had already begun his back leg sidekick, and came flying towards the Sheriff.

The Sheriff practically bent over in pain, giving my grandfather the perfect opportunity to knock him down with a hook kick. He then kicked him while on the ground, but the Sheriff got up, and began throwing a flurry of punches. My grandfather blocked most, but some of them landed, each one being a powerful blow. I could tell my grandfather couldn’t take much more of this.

“Did you really think you could win?” The Sheriff taunted as he continued throwing punches. “I respect your bravery, but just know that all of this will only make it even sweeter to finally evict all of you.”

Just as it looked like my grandfather had no strength left, he grabbed the Sheriff’s arms, and did a miraculous hip throw. Considering the Sheriff had at least 50 pounds on my grandfather, it was a sight that surprised us all.

While on the ground, my grandfather put the Sheriff that dislocated his arm. He then started kicking him, but the Sheriff blocked his foot, raised himself up, and threw a powerful hook that I would later find out broke my grandfather’s ribs.

I thought it was all over. But then, my grandfather summoned all his strength, and threw a roundhouse kick that knocked out Sheriff Jones. I almost felt bad for the Sheriff, I’m sure his jaw took a long time to recover.

“And there you have it.” My grandfather said to the now unconscious Sheriff.

He then turned to the people of his neighborhood and said “Looks like we’re staying home.”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hiii

do you know about any looong slowburn sterek fics preferably with smut? optional magic stiles👀

hehe thank you❤️

Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (25/25 | 434,625 | Explicit | Sterek) “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” 

That was a bad word. Not found. 

Have. 

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. 

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,776 | Mature | Sterek) “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman (72/72 | 200,136 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski has not seen his childhood friend for going on ten years when Derek Hale insists on meeting him in a barely reputable inn to make a rather startling proposal…

The Hollow Moon by thepsychicclam (10/10 | 180,079 | Explicit | Sterek) It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all. 

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow. 

It's going to suck.

B.E.A.C.O.N. by Mythological_Compendium (43/43 | 140,691 | Explicit | Sterek) "What better situation could there possibly be? We'll be pretty much stuck together, we can talk, drink and maybe later even…”

A scoff. “What? Have reunion sex?”

He shrugs. “It's been four years.”

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125,721 | Explicit | Sterek) Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

Bruises and Bitemarks by orphan_account (27/27 | 121,566 | Explicit | Sterek) Biologically, Stiles is weak. When he presented as an omega, he knew that to be the truth but that never stopped him from running his mouth as a defense mechanism. However, it could only save him so many times before he ended up pissing off the wrong person. After he's attacked in the parking lot outside of school, Stiles realizes he can no longer protect himself with just pure wit and sarcasm. When the attack lands him in the hospital, his dad forces him to pick between two options, report the alphas who attacked him or join a kickboxing gym run by omega rights activist and alpha, Derek Hale, a man Stiles has been in love with for many years.

Strip by Fessst (23/23 | 117,194 | Explicit | Sterek) "Singletail whip. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Red. Stiles felt nauseated as he bent over the bench. Red. The tremble only increased when his wrists and ankles were secured with leather straps. Red. He heard the Dom behind him give a sample crack of the whip in the air. Red. This would likely pierce his skin. So fucking Red.

"What's your safeword?"

Red.

"Stiles?"

"The... the stoplights, Sir."

Stiles's first introduction to the world of BDSM was a complete fiasco. You see, he had a crush on this ridiculously hot Dom and might have slightly exaggerated (ahem, lied blatantly) a few things on his questionnaire. Five years later the two meet again under a different set of circumstances.

A rare Alphahole by Fessst (27/27 | 110,538 | Mature | Sterek) Weed sale goes wrong and leaves Stiles with a dilemma of either facing prison or enrolling himself in Beta Rehabilitation Program for the next 6 months.

Anything beats prison, right?

Well...

Once he finds out that his assigned Responsible Alpha is the asshole who landed him in trouble, to begin with, Stiles is not so sure anymore. Especially since he has to fucking marry the guy! 

the trees call your name by spaceprincessem (2/2 | 107,656 | Mature | Sterek) “That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago."

aka the high school friends to lovers ranch au that no one asked for, but the one that i wrote anyway. This fic is finished, I will just be posting it in two parts!

Far From Any Road by doctorkaitlyn (28/28 | 103,835 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski is a young, chronically sleep-deprived detective who's manipulative and morally dubious at best. He's fairly certain that, in the years since he started working for the California Bureau of Investigation, he's seen most of the horrible things that the world could possibly throw at him.

But that's before a body turns up in an alley in Beacon Hills, brutally tortured, with a symbol burned into its back. It's quickly followed by a second and third, and when Stiles is unable to find any hint as to who the culprits might be, his father decides to bring in some outside help.

His name is Derek Hale, and he too has seen some truly horrible things, only some of them on the job.

Stiles hates him immediately. But Derek may be their only hope for solving the case, so Stiles reluctantly agrees to accept his help. 

As it turns out, neither of them have seen anything close to the depths of human depravity that await them in the woods and down the back roads surrounding Beacon Hills.

All a Pack Needs is a Little Spark by thornconnelly (21/21 | 82,884 | Mature | Sterek) Fork in the road fix-it that basically changes everything starting... an hour before the show actually starts. idk.

Stiles has a premonition that he NEEDS to go into the forest on a random night and saves Laura before Peter can kill her. Stiles doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, but he decides to help out the stray dog he finds in the woods, and then ends up joining a werewolf pack... as their Spark... because apparently he's got magic. 

What ensues is my whole-hearted desire for the Hales to have nice things.

[nonotnolan]

Cuerpo Inc: Water Cooler Talk

“What are you guys looking at?” I asked, seeing my fellow interns grouped around Ian’s cell phone.  It was a bit strange, seeing a bunch of middle-aged men acting like overgrown teenagers, but... well, that’s what we were.  All of us save Ian, at any rate.  There were a lot of upsides to getting an elusive internship at one of the largest bodyswapping companies in the country, but having to spend the summer in the body of someone 20+ years older was definitely a weird experience.

“I was scrolling through Tinder on my lunch break, and I think I might have found some of your bodies,” Ian said.  “Your original bodies, I mean.  Granted, I don’t know what any of you all really look like, but... I can’t imagine anyone your age buying a membership to the Eagle Crest Country Club.  Just a bunch of old rich dudes playing golf.  Oh, hang on, let me pull it back up,” he said, as I walked over to look over his shoulder.

“What were you doing on Tinder looking at men?” I asked, as I absent-mindedly scratched at my t-shirt.  Corey’s body was both really tall, and really hairy.  I still hadn’t really gotten used to having all this hair under my clothes.  “I mean... sorry, that was an asshole question,” I added, realizing what I had just said to him.  “I just didn’t expect you to be interested in other men.”

“No offense taken,” Ian said, shrugging his shoulders.  “I’m Bi, so I don’t always register on people’s gaydar.  Anyway, here’s the profile.  Does that look like anyone you know?”

“Oh geez,” I said, feeling my stomach drop out.  “I think I remember the guy in the purple shirt from pre-swap orientation on the first day, but... yeah, that’s me in the blue.”  Seeing the real Corey flaunting my body like that was pretty surreal.  It was one thing, knowing that he was probably gonna have a ton of sex in my body-- there were SO many liability waivers that we had to sign before the swap happened-- but to see my own ass in a jockstrap like that...  I didn’t know what to think.

“Yeah, I feel your pain,” Matthew said, reaching up to pat me on the shoulder.  “That’s me in white.  Apparently we’re both ‘hungry bottom bois looking for daddy dick’ according to the profile.  Honestly, I think I’m more bothered by the fact that we’re drinking Truly.”

“Fair’s fair during Intern Season,” Ian said, shrugging his shoulders.  “I know you guys may not think much of your current bodies, but you are both prime bear specimen, and I think you could both have one hell of a weekend if you’re open to broadening your horizons a bit.  No man should have to resort to only his hand for ten weeks.  You should come over to my place after work tonight.”

“I’ll... I’ll definitely think about it,” I said, rubbing my beard.  I never thought of myself as gay, but the given the circumstances... a one-off with another man didn’t sound so bad.

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

“Matthew, my guy, come on in!  I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it!” Ian said, gesturing him inside.  “You have great timing, Corey showed up maybe ten minutes ago.  Come on in and get naked!  Or at least get comfortable,” he added, gesturing to my boxer briefs.

I was relieved to see that Matthew’s reaction of shock, confusion, and arousal was the exact reaction that I had gone through only moments earlier.  Ian was drinking pineapple juice, and his 72 inch flat screen was pre-loaded with ‘Anal Strap-On Vixens 5′.  The coffee table in front of the leather sofa was loaded with various lubes, a variety of dildos, and a few boxes of tissues.

Ian was unperturbed by his open-mouthed stare.  “Like I was telling Corey, I thought we would start with group masturbation, and feel things out from there.  I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t mind having sex with either one of you-- or both of you-- but consent is important.  And we can still have fun even if you’re not willing to go that far today.”

I couldn’t help but smile.  There was something incredibly sexy about Ian’s relaxed confidence.  I couldn’t speak for Matthew, but... I had a feeling I would not be leaving here today without Ian’s spunk coating my insides.

[idohistorysometimes]

Rome was real

Once again I find myself reacting to stupid tiktok drama

To summarize: there is a person on Tiktok currently claiming that ancient Rome was not in fact a real civilization and was rather something fabricated by archeologists, historians, etc. This person refuses to use credible sources to back up this statement and most of their reasoning relies heavily on conspiracy theories (like for example there is nothing ‘written down’ from Rome therefor its not real). I do not have to tell you that this is stupid because: it is. The reasoning used is so bunk it physically makes my brain hurt. And the fact that they claim to have an anthropology degree while saying things like this makes me either think they are a very dedicated/self deprecating troll... or they got said degree from a non accredited university. 

But this, ironically enough, does relate to an actual problem in the history world which I will go into using this drama as an example. 

“I am right and the entire scientific community is wrong”

This is the common reasoning I see from people who usually come to my museum to challenge me on our exhibits. Some of the more common accusations I hear include:

Why do you have an entire exhibit on (insert native group here), everyone knows aliens built those mounds!

Well ACTUALLY, (insert terrible historical figure who was responsible for the deaths of thousands) was a good guy because he was a patriot! 

You need to show BOTH sides of the argument (which is usually said in reference to our civil war exhibit about LOCAL regiments and we are in a northern state)

Or sometimes I am directly challenged because I am not a 72 year old white man so therefor all of the things I just told them are magically false. 

Whatever the case may be I am still met with constant pushback for one stupid reason or another and its usually by people who go into the museum looking to validate their own strange theories rather than to actually learn something. And this is usually because they have somehow gotten it into their head that they are more qualified to speak on history than a historian because their read something on: facebook, some random blog, a conspiracy theory website, or a message board (all with no sources). 

Historians, archeologists, anthropologists, museums, and other people who work in a field relating to history have no reason to create a massive conspiracy about something as well documented as ancient Rome, or other things of that nature.

  Historians are not cartoonishly evil masterminds who purposely make up civilizations just to fuck with some random teenagers on tiktok/tumblr specifically. 

Seriously, think about it.

Why would we have any reason to do that? And before someone comments or reblogs something anti-Semitic (because most conspiracies have roots in white supremacy and anti-Semitism) stop yourself right now, we dont use hate to spread false information here. 

History does not change, new context is discovered and facts are corrected, but the history itself stays the same. And we use EVIDENCE (actual evidence and not just personal anecdotes and theories) to back up what we tell you.

For example: Why did Rome not speak “Roman”? 

Because they spoke Latin. And the reason why Latin and Greek are so similar is because Latin was partially derived from ancient Greek and they were both developed geographically close to each other. Along with that, much like with the US today, many other languages were also spoken in the Roman Empire other than Latin because of how expansive/culturally diverse Rome was. For example: Greek was spoken in Rome because Rome admired Greek culture and due to the geographical proximity of Greece and Rome. 

Why was nothing ‘written down’?

Things were. If you are looking for paper manuscripts those you will be hard pressed to find them since paper is a fragile material and anything from that time is probably now long destroyed. We do however have written texts etched in stone, along with archeological artifacts to confirm things written down on said stone tablets.

 Culture is preserved through more than literature and saying an entire civilization is not real because there was not written down on paper manuscripts is just kinda stupid and sets a horrible precedent historically. Do indigenous cultures that primarily used oral tradition in place of a writing system automatically not exist because they do not have books explicitly explaining their cultural practices and way of life? Do artifacts and other archeological discoveries not mean anything since they are not ‘written down’? 

Do you perhaps see now why this assertion is kinda stupid? 

Remember kids: if you are right and everybody else in the world is wrong you are probably not as right as you think you are. And random leaps of logic and conspiracy theories are not reasonable citations.