#he is not small he is actually quite large and very threatening. i got the second book for curtain call and oooooooooooh my god

[thronelessking]

monthly update: norgorber IS out there and that is a threat but also he's a little goofy goober man, a little tiny guy. oh he is so small.

[youremyheaven]

Ashlesha & Toxic Relationships

Tw: abuse, incest, rape, death, domestic violence

I feel like Ashlesha's mommy issues have been covered by others before but I really wanted to explore how Ashlesha nakshatra natives often find themselves in toxic relationships, be it in their own homes or in romantic relationships. I think many of the patterns many people repeat in adult relationships has its roots in their childhood relationships with their family and I see this very evident with many Ashlesha natives. They're often abused at home and later suffer abuse at the hands of partners.

Halle Berry Ashlesha Sun

Halle's father was a violent man who abused her mother repeatedly. He abandoned them when she was 4 and she's been estranged from him since.

She moved with her mother and sister to an all-white neighbourhood where she was exposed to racial discrimination while attending school. Halle admits that these struggles motivated her to succeed. Later in the ’90s, when she moved to New York to pursue her acting career, she was forced to stay in a homeless shelter for a while because she couldn’t afford accommodations.

In 2011, Halle said: "It was only when I was in an abusive relationship and blood squirted on the ceiling of my apartment and I lost 80% of my hearing in my ear that I realised, I have to break the cycle."

Halle is divorced from Gabriel Aubry (in photo with her above) who, she accused of being a racist (he used racial slurs towards her and their daughter), refused to acknowledge their daughter as biracial and court documents revealed that Berry accused him of having been in an incestuous relationship with a family member, abusing their daughter and even revealed the couple only had sex three times a year, with Aubry struggling with the effects of his incestuous relationship.

Charlize Theron- Ashlesha Sun, Moon & Mercury

One night, when her verbally abusive alcoholic father came home with his brother after drinking heavily, he threatened her mother with a gun. He began shooting and Theron's mother grabbed her gun and shot back, killing Theron's father and wounding his brother. Police later determined it was self-defence. They later moved to America so Charlize could pursue an acting career.

Lily Collins, Ashlesha Moon

Lily Collins says she was once in a toxic relationship where she faced "verbal and emotional abuse" that made her feel "very small." Looking back, Lily says her then-boyfriend silenced her feelings and even fuelled emotions of "panic" and "anxiety" -- and it's something that still affects her even though she’s now in a healthy relationship.

"He would call me 'Little Lily'…and he'd use awful words about me in terms of what I was wearing and would call me a whore and all these things," she said on the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast. "There were awful words and then there were belittling words. I became quite silent and comfortable in silence and feeling like I had to make myself small to feel super safe."

Tina Turner, Ashlesha Rising

Tina’s violent marriage with Ike Turner is well known, largely thanks to the film based on her life, What’s Love Got To Do With It. In the film the singer suffered severe beatings, was raped and had cigarettes stubbed out on her body. Her husband Ike is portrayed as a violent, controlling sociopath, and when Tina’s autobiography was published Ike actually admitted that the book was largely accurate. The pair were married for 16 years before Tina had the courage to leave. Ike is now dead.

I found something she said in an interview to closely correlate to Ashlesha:

"Part of my spiritual practice is to “change poison into medicine,” to take negative situations or roadblocks and transform or remove them through positivity. The force of my positivity pushed all the discriminatory “isms” standing in my way right out the window."

Whitney Houston- Ashlesha Sun & Venus

Their turbulent relationship is well documented, but even though the rumors were that Bobby used to hit Whitney, she actually claimed it was the other way round. In an interview with the Associated Press over 10 years ago, the singing star said: “Contrary to belief, I do the hitting, he doesn’t. He has never put his hands on me. We are crazy for one another. I mean crazy in love, love, love, love, love. When we’re fighting, it’s like that’s love for us. We’re fighting for our love.” Brown, however, was later arrested in 2003 for misdemeanour battery, several years after Whitney said this. The pair eventually divorced after 15 years of marriage in 2007.

Unfortunately, Whitney passed away in 2012 and I firmly believe Bobby did it. Her daughter, Bobbi Brown also passed away in the exact same way in 2015 and there's just no way those 2 deaths were a coincidence. Anytime I hear news of anybody dying in their bathtub after overdosing on a cocktail of drugs, I just know they were murdered. Its very easy to write off deaths as suicide or to make it look like one. Its all the more convincing if the person has a history of drug abuse.

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising

Sridevi was forced into acting by her mother (who aspired to be an actress and had failed in her pursuit) when she was 2-3yrs old. Sridevi never received formal education and appeared in 200 films by the time she was 25 years old (she did 300 films total). Her mother and stepfather had another daughter whom they favoured. Sridevi was the cash cow of the household. It was once reported that Sridevi would come home from a long day of filming and spend many hours massaging her mother's feet at night instead of sleeping. Her mother once locked up Sridevi in a dark room and starved her as a 5-year-old because she was too scared to do a scene that involved fire. She became a heroine at the age of 11 years and was paired opposite men who had played her grandad onscreen when she was a child star🤮🤮🤮she was sexually assaulted by many of these men as a child and teenager. Sridevi's mother managed all her finances and did not permit her to go out or meet others and she did not even know how to do virtually anything by herself as her mother kept her under lock and key.

Her husband Boney Kapoor is a movie producer who was married to another woman and had 2 kids when he first met Sridevi. He creepily wooed her for 10 years but Sridevi paid him no mind. In 1995, Sridevi's mother passed away and Boney took full advantage of her vulnerability because even though she was 32, she was basically a child due to the way her mother forced her to live. Sridevi had no one to rely on (her stepfather had died many years prior and her sister sued her for properties and since she was so isolated, she had no friends despite being such a huge star) and Boney took her in. She lived with Boney and his wife and kids but before you knew it, Sridevi was impregnated by him and he soon divorced his wife and married her. In 2018, Sridevi was found dead in a bathtub in Dubai under suspicious circumstances. The case was wrapped up pretty quickly and no one really knows what happened. She allegedly "drowned" but like I said, I dont think all these celebs drowning in their bathtubs is a coincidence.

Zsa Zsa Gabor- Ashlesha Moon

She was married 9 times and many of those marriages were hella toxic. She was married to Conrad Hilton (Paris Hilton's great-grandfather)

She said of the marriage:

"Conrad's decision to change my name from Zsa Zsa to Georgia symbolized everything my marriage to him would eventually become. My Hungarian roots were to be ripped out and my background ignored. ... I soon discovered that my marriage to Conrad meant the end of my freedom. My own needs were completely ignored: I belonged to Conrad."

Gabor's only child, daughter Constance Francesca Hilton, was born in 1947. According to Gabor's 1991 autobiography, One Lifetime Is Not Enough, her pregnancy resulted from rape by then-husband Conrad Hilton.

Marilyn Monroe- Ashlesha Rising

Marilyn had a very difficult life. She grew up in foster homes, her mother was schizophrenic and her father was an alcoholic. Her marriages were unhappy and she was treated like shit by the industry. I don't want to elaborate too much because I feel like everyone already knows about her life story but its truly tragic how things were for her :((

Lucille Ball- Ashlesha Sun

She was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz and they had a horrible toxic marriage where he cheated on her repeatedly and emotionally abused her. He was also an alcoholic.

Bella Hadid, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

"I constantly went back to men -- and also, women -- that had abused me, and that's where the people-pleasing came in," Hadid said on the Victoria's Secret podcast, "VS Voices."  "I started to not have boundaries, not only sexually, physically, emotionally, but then it went into my workspace….I began to be a people-pleaser with my job and it was everyone else's opinion of me that mattered except for my own, because I essentially was putting my worth into the hands of everyone else and that was the detriment of it."

Everybody already knows that Yolanda is toxic as hell, made Bella get a nose job at 14yrs of age and in Bella's own words she was made to feel like the "uglier sister".

Viola Davis, Ashlesha Sun

She and her sisters were sexually abused by their brother. "Sexual abuse back in the day didn't have a name. The abusers were called 'dirty old men' and the abused were called 'fast' or 'heifers,'" she wrote in her memoir.

Davis wrote about the volatile relationship between her empathetic mother and her violent, alcoholic father. With brutal candidness, she channels the unrelenting terror of living in a household of domestic abuse: “There are not enough pages to mention the fights, the constantly being awakened in the middle of the night or coming home after school to my dad’s rages and praying he wouldn’t lose so much control that he would kill my mom.”

Lil Kim, Ashlesha Moon

When she sat down for a candid interview with Newsweek back in 2000, the rapper revealed that she developed a complex about her appearance thanks to a string of unsavory suitors. "All my life men have told me I wasn't pretty enough — even the men I was dating," she revealed. "I'd be like, 'Well, why are you with me, then? I have low self-esteem and I always have," she admitted. "Guys always cheated on me with women who were European-looking. You know, the long-hair type. Really beautiful women. That left me thinking, 'How can I compete with that?' Being a regular black girl wasn't good enough."

It wasn't just the men she dated in her early days that messed with Lil Kim's head — according to the rapper, her own father added to her issues. Her parents divorced when she was 8 and, despite the fact that she wanted to remain with her mother, her dad won custody. When she spoke to Newsweek ahead of the release of her second studio album, The Notorious K.I.M, she revealed that her father would regularly make her feel as though she wasn't good enough. "It was like I could do nothing right," she recalled. "Everything about me was wrong — my hair, my clothes, just me."

Ella Fitzgerald, Ashlesha Rising

At a young 15 years old, Fitzgerald was left motherless and fatherless. To make matters worse, she began being abused by her stepfather. The beatings were physical, but they scared her emotionally as well. She was a beaten and battered child. Her grades fell to be nearly unrecoverable, and she began skipping school regularly. It was an era of racial segregation and Ella is also believed to have been physically abused by her teachers along with some other black students.

Ella and Marilyn were good friends and are said to have bonded over their similarly traumatic lives.

Katie Holmes, Ashlesha Moon & Rising

She escaped an abusive marriage with the sociopathic Tom Cruise and his cult??? need I say more?? I am so happy she is alive and well and that she has managed to protect her daughter as well. Scientologists are insane people who absolutely destroy the lives of anybody who tries to leave their system so its a miracle that Katie is alive and doing well.

Glenn Close, Ashlesha Rising

I don't know what it is about Ashleshas and being trapped/escaping a cult but I've noticed several Ashlesha natives all have this experience

Oscar-nominated actress Glenn Close, for example, was part of a cult called the Moral Re-Armament, from the young age of 7 all the way up to 22. “If you talk to anybody who was in a group that basically dictates how you’re supposed to live and what you’re supposed to say and how you’re supposed to feel, from the time you’re 7 till the time you’re 22, it has a profound impact on you,” she once told The Hollywood Reporter.

Patricia Arquette- Ashlesha Moon

Oscar winner Patricia Arquette wasn’t just raised in Virginia’s Skymont Subud cult, but her parents were the founders of it. The so-called “spiritual movement” was known for not allowing access to bathrooms, electricity, or running water in the name of “inner guidance.” 

While still living with her family, she and her family left the commune to return to a more conventional life. Per ABC, however, the Arquette family wasn’t any better at that time either. “There was a lot of drama in the house,” Arquette said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey. “There were a lot of chairs flying around.”

Brie Larson- Ketu in Ashlesha

Brie starred in two movies, The Glass Castle & The Room that both deal with abusive relationships (she is the one stuck in them)

Our Ketu placement is where we draw our creativity from, so its interesting that Brie has played so many characters who have to deal with toxicity.

According to Hindu mythology, Ashlesha nakshatra is associated with the story of the Naga King Vasuki. It is said that Vasuki and his wife were cursed by a sage to become snakes. In order to lift the curse, they sought the help of Lord Vishnu, who advised them to perform a penance in the ashram of a sage named Jaratkaru. After performing the penance, the sage granted their wish and they were able to regain their human form. Since then, Ashlesha nakshatra has been associated with transformation and the power of penance.

In the list of celebrities I have mentioned, many of them survived their abuse and went on to live good lives but many others met with tragic ends. Being "cursed" is part of Ashlesha's mythology, which is why they receive an unfair share of bad experiences and abuse but to perform penance is very very important and something not many are going to be able to do. When so many terrible things happen to you, you're bound to think "why me? I'm a good person, I don't deserve this" and that's absolutely true, no one deserves abuse but the ones who can outlive these negative circumstances are the ones who can in Tina Turner's words "turn poison into medicine". Penance literally means inflicting punishment upon oneself but what it actually means in this context is to turn all your negative experiences that feel like you're being punished into something you can rise up above against. Poison is also part of Ashlesha's lore and while this does make Ashlesha natives rather malicious and manipulative towards others, they need to be able to use this poison as medicine to heal themselves. Otherwise, they end up succumbing to it.

[everythingfiction13]

Disclaimer: I may have cried while writing this.

Korra and Asami, along with Mako and Bolin, Tenzin and his family, Kya, Bumi and a-very-much-deprived-of-any-fun Lin decide to visit the Southern Water Tribe for one of their many festivals.

Once there, the others are quick to jump into the action, and Mako wins several gifts for Ikki who still isn't over her crush on him. Meanwhile, Bolin and Meelo playfully race along the roads of the SWT, but the general rule is that they don't use their bending. It is purely a test of speed and power, and nearly all of the gang has placed their bets on either boy, mostly in favor of Bolin. It is not quite a surprise when Meelo actually wins.

Jinora, for once, decides to let her hair down and enjoy the parades with Kai, and through much persuasion, Tenzin sort of relaxes thanks to his mother and Pema. After all, the children won't be as such for much longer, a fact that the Airbending Master can not get over, no matter how old his children get. Lin and Kya spend much of their time together, drinking and placing bets, trying to showcase who is stronger and who can hold their liquor, and at some point, Korra could have sworn she'd seen them flirting though they would surely deny it later on.

All in all, everyone's having fun and enjoying a much needed respite from saving the world from anyone who thinks of wreaking havoc again. All except for Asami, but nobody notices. Korra has her suspicions, deems it wise to let her girlfriend confide in her when she's ready. They'd already had this conversation before with Asami confessing that sometimes, when things got a bit overwhelming, she just needed her space. And Korra gave her all the space possible, letting her hang back while the others threw themselves in a series of shenanigans, yet always kept a watchful eye on the heiress. At some point, Korra was distracted long enough for Asami to slip away, this particular bout of uncertainty taking longer to shake off than normal.

Asami could feel her chest tightening, the air in her lungs barely enough to keep her on her feet, but she was well-versed in the art of hiding her turmoil, a smile always at the ready to protect her from any inquiring looks.

A gentle hand finds her shoulder, big enough to clasp her whole bone, yet tender and warm.

"Hey kiddo." Tonraq. Asami would always recognize his voice.

She turns to him a moment later, flashing that same practiced smile. But a look of concern furrows the man's brows, and he towers over her, large and imposing and so caring that the heiress can't help but feel so small.

"You feeling alright?"

"Yes, yes," she says, though the lump in her throat threatened to choke her.

Tonraq sees right through her. "Asami, you know you can confide in me. I may be Korra's dad and all, but I'm still here for you."

Tears swell in her eyes, but again, Asami will always hide her feelings in such moments. She can not afford to be weak, to let herself be so easily uncovered. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. But I promise, I'm fine."

"Have we not passed over the formalities? You are dating my daughter."

At that, a genuine grin curled Asami's lips. It feels weird, however, to call him by his name, almost as if she is breaking some unnamed rule. "I suppose so. I'll need some time to get used to it, though."

"As long as it takes, honey. Are you sure you're alright?"

Asami nods, swallows the knot in the back of her throat. Tonraq, she knows, is not convinced. There is little, however, she can do about it, only hopes that he isn't as persistent as his daughter.

He isn't. With one last smile, he rejoins the others, leaving Asami to her own thoughts. Relief washes over her, but she still can't find herself to breathe properly, the need to disappear for a moment gnawing at her.

Later, when everyone is fast asleep under the heavy covers to keep them warm, Asami finds herself clutching at a cup of tea she's made herself, sitting on a chair in the private kitchen even though the main hall was all but empty. This place was smaller, cozier. It suited her mood just as well. In her other free hand, Asami holds the one thing Lin was able to salvage from the wreckage that was the hummingbird Hiroshi and her had used in the battle against Kuvira, a pair of bent golden spectacles with no glass to keep it together. Asami can't bring herself to look at it, but it feels good to have it between her fingers, clasp at the very last thing that connected her to her dad.

"Oh, sorry I...I figured it would be empty," Senna breaks the silence. "Asami, are you okay, sweetheart?"

The young woman's lips quiver, unable to hold it together any longer. She swallows, her voice wavering. "Not really, no."

Senna pulls the chair beside her. She does not fail to notice the glasses, but makes no move to reach for Asami's hand. The latter doesn't blame her, she wouldn't touch something as tainted with blood either. Her father was a criminal after all.

"Sweetheart."

A single tear streaks down Asami's cheek. "My mom used to call me that. All the time. I miss her."

Another tear. Senna ticks with compassion, grabbing the younger woman then in a hug Asami had not been privileged with for so, so long. And for once, she hangs on, fingers clutching at Senna's shirt as her tears flow freely down her face.

"I can't...I can't breathe," she chokes out. "I can't breathe."

Tender hands clasp her face, and Korra looks so much like her mother, just as Asami reflected Yasuko's features, only older.

"I need you to breathe with me, sweetheart. Can you do that?"

Yet again, Asami nods. Her tears do not stop. Her breathing becomes erratic instead, but Senna's touches, firmer now, ground her. "You're okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you."

"Why does it...why does...hurt...? Why did they leave me all alone?"

"Oh honey, they didn't. They never did leave you."

"They did. Everyone leaves me. Everyone..."

"Asami, sweetheart, that's not going to happen. Your friends are here, and you have Tonraq and me, and Korra..."

But the words fall on deaf ears, try as she may to take them in. "I never got to say goodbye. It hurts..."

"I know it does. But believe me, your mom and dad are with you, Asami. They will always be a part of you. Always."

"You don't...know that."

"But you do. In everything that you do, Asami, every waking moment, your being alive and well and happy is a testament to how much your mom and dad loved you." Senna brushes the girl's tears, pulls her in closer so that her head rests upon her chest. Tea discarded, glasses still clutched in her hand, Asami lets herself cry for what feels like the first time in years.

Of course, she'd done so before, several times, when the hurt became so much she was going to explode, but those were in her private moments. Never in front of anyone. Never.

"Sen?"

Great. If she had felt embarrassed at the start of her confession, Asami doubled in it.

Tonraq catches on quickly, and he wraps his arms around them both, setting a soft kiss on Asami's head. He does not need to say a thing because with Senna's words and his embrace, Asami feels safe again.

[marlboroenjoyer]

let me show you my thanks

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore. 

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.

“we’ve– i’ve– been trying to contact you.” another long beat. “you had duties to fulfill. you’ve been holed up in your dimension while i thought– lo que sea…”[1] his mouth snapped shut before he finished his sentence, cutting himself off before giving an exasperated sigh. his hands rubbed down his face, before revealing his eyes which were intensely trained on you. your expression gave nothing away, you were just going to stand aside and watch him fight with himself inside his head; or maybe he’d even just give up and leave. part of you hoped for the latter, but you also wanted him to finally be able to figure out how to speak to you.

“listen. i understand you were, shit probably still are, angry about how i reacted.” his words for grating against his clenched teeth and set jaw. clearly this was very difficult. “but i didn’t know how to react to the fact that you were a breath away from meeting death. i had come to terms with death a very long time ago. but i don’t know if i’d be able to get over it, if you died.” you continued to let him speak, watching him as he chewed on the words and mulled them over in his head. 

“you are so fucking annoying sometimes, but you are so lovely and you’re so soft. and i know you can hold you own but you…” you could practically see steam coming from his ears, as the cogs in his brain turned away trying his best to figure out how to express his thoughts. he stopped talking for a moment as he approached you slowly. “tenía tanto miedo que sentí ganas de vomitar.”[2] his voice was a fraction of the volume it once was. his hands gently grabbed yours.

“i’m sorry i was…more or less a dick. you didn’t deserve that, especially after you saved my skin. quería… darte las gracias por salvarme la vida.”[3] his eyes bore into your own. now you were genuinely speechless, and not just holding out due to spite. thankfully your body acted for you, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around miguel’s strong abdomen. you let your head rest against his chest and you waited for his reaction. after a few beats his arms wrapped around your frame. his head ducked down to tuck into the crook of your neck.

you whispered out a thank you, to which you felt a quick puff of air escape miguel’s nose. he couldn’t understand why you were thanking him. you pulled your arms back and over his shoulder, gently grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling his head back up to look at you. before he could say anything you lightly placed your lips onto his in a timid kiss. an action so tender and so soft, it managed to shatter miguel's heart and rebuild it anew. it took less than a second for miguel to kiss you back. immediately the atmosphere changed, electricity surging through the both of you as miguel deepened the kiss. his hands skated around your body, kneading the flesh underneath his fingers whenever he paused his ministrations.

your hands were still occupied with fists fulls of his hair, and you took that as an opportunity to tug on his hair as you two made out. his mouth pulled away from yours for the briefest moment; allowing himself to let out a breathy groan. his hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, squeezing hard making you yelp. as you both made out, he was backing you up into the wall; and before you even realized your back was pressed flat against the wall. his knee immediately slid between your thighs, slotting right between them as if you were made to fit against each other. 

his thigh pressed hard against your core, and you let out a stuttering gasp at the pressure. he gradually took hold of all of your senses. he was becoming overwhelming. you gently pushed against his chest, humming against his lip as his tongue continued to play with your bottom lip. he pulled his head away after a few more moments, almost irritated by the prospect of leaving your lips for more than thirty seconds.

“what’s wrong mi amor?” his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. “are you still hurt?” you shook your head in response. he had backed up enough to let you slip out from between him and the wall. you grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. the whole apartment was dark aside from the dim lamps you had lit scattered around the few rooms. you could hear the rain still colliding with the glass of your window, however that was mostly drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you swore miguel could hear it as well, which only made matters worse.

you had merely dreamed of scenarios similar to these, never once thinking they could actually become real. some section of your brain wondered if you were passed out in bed already. sure you and miguel were amicable with each other, but he was such a shut off man that you were never really able to characterize what you were to him; and vice versa.

the end of your bed came in contact with your calves, and miguel pushed you down onto it. you landed with a quite huff, while the realization of what was going to happen tonight dawned on you. miguel must’ve seen the deer in headlights look on your face, as he leaned down with his hands bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

“i want to show you just how grateful i am for what u did for me… only if you allow me.” his face was nothing but completely genuine, giving you a way to say no to all of this if you really wanted to. you didn’t say anything in response, you merely wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into a much more heated kiss. miguel groaned low in his throat at the feeling of you yanking him down. unfortunately for you though, he started pulling away, instead standing upright once more to take on his suit. with a quick shrug of his shoulders his chest was exposed, suit still sitting low on his hip. not like it was hiding anything from you. you could clearly see the line of his hard dick straining against this unstable molecular prison.

“baby, if you want this to keep going… im gonna have to hear you say it.” the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a sly smirk. he wanted nothing more than to hear you say how much you wanted him at this moment. fuck he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of your plush lips opening to beg for him. he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, observing the way your struggled with vocalizing your thoughts.

“miguel…” your voice was a pathetic whimper, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate your desperation. miguel’s practically rolled back into his skull, hearing you say his name like that– his big hand gripped your knees which had been brought up to your chest, his talons threatening to spring out and dig into your soft skin.

“say it baby. i gotta hear you say it.” he edged you on, his erection now pressed firmly against your ass as encouragement.

“miguel please… i need you so bad. dreamt about this moment.” your confession felt like a swift quick to the chest, successfully ridding his lungs of any oxygen. you’d dreamt about this before. how could he hold back now.

“dios mío… siento que un día me vas a matar.”[4] his voice was a mere growl at this point, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you. “tell me, what exactly have you dreamt about?” he shifted you further up onto the mattress, giving him the opportunity to box you in with his huge frame. embarrassment was licking at your subconscious like flames, making your whole body get swelteringly hot. but there was something in miguel’s expression that egged you on. you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t tell him.

“i think about your teeth…a lot… recently i’ve found myself– ugh this is so…” you covered your face with your hands before continuing on. “i think about you biting me…again i guess… i think about your venom.” you just never ceased with rendering miguel speechless, he guessed it was just one of your many talents at this point.

you were starting to get nervous about your confession. miguel hadn’t responded yet, but before you could get too into your own head you felt his lips ghost over you neck; right across the spot he bit you the first time. your breath hitched in your throat, and you involuntarily whimpered.

“you’ve really gotta trust me if you want that. you’d give everything up to me.” you only nodded your head. you trusted him; in all honesty you think you trusted him more than almost anyone in the society. you heard him click his tongue sharply.

“what did i say earlier? if you want this i gotta hear you say it.” you felt his breath fan over your neck, as he peppered small kisses all over it and your chest. you had wrapped your legs around his waist, and he was very gently grinding down into you. gentle vibrations wracked their way through your entire body causing small gasps and whimpers to come spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

“please miguel… i surrender everything to you. i trust you.” that was all he needed to hear before he bit down into your trapezius muscle, just like before. only this time you were much more aware of the effects now. he stayed like that for a couple seconds longer, before detaching from your neck and licking away the blood from the wound. slowly but surely you felt all motor functions slip from your body. you were overcome with this euphoric dullness, you felt like you were floating. while you slowly felt all control drain from your body, miguel was making quick work of your clothes, sharp claws slicing through your shorts and shirt like it was nothing. he whispered promises of new clothes as he continued with your bra and panties.

“how are you feeling mi amor? can you speak at all?” you acknowledged miguel’s questions with a quiet moan. as much as he wanted to take his time with you, work you up before tearing everything back down; he knew he had very little patience left, and limited time to work with the venom. your metabolism was extremely fast in comparison to the usual suspects he would subject his venom to, so he had much less time to keep you in this dreamy haze. he wanted to make sure the only word you could think of was his name.

the rest of his spider suit disappeared into nothing as he positioned you. you legs had fallen from his waist a little while ago when you first started feeling the venom, so he flipped you over onto your stomach. he arms wrapped underneath your hips to hoist you up so your ass was in the air, with your back arched and chest pressed into the mattress beneath you. he knew he was going to warm you up. miguel hasn’t exactly had many partners as of late but he was aware of his size. one of his hands found its way to your pussy, his other hand bracing your hip and keeping you steady. his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit. hazy pleasure rolled through you, like waves lapping at the shore. long strung out moans clawed their way up your throat; spurring miguel on. his fingers had moved from your clit, moving deeper in as they breached your hole. a deep groan echoed through to room.

“christ you’re so fucking wet. such a slut, ready to give up any control.” god his dick was painfully hard now. pulsing steadily every few seconds, weeping precum and begging to be buried deep in your hot cunt. he felt your walls flutter and clench when he degraded you, and he filed that information deep into his brain. his fingers were so overwhelming through the fog that settled inside your skull. your breaths had become erratic, chest rising and falling to desperately take in air. you moans were cracking, as miguel fully rammed three fingers in and out of you.

“i hear you baby, i hear you. im gonna take care of you.” he curled his fingers in search of that one spot that would make you see stars. it didn’t take long for him to find it as your volume increased even more. 

“m-mig…” you desperately tried to form words; to warn miguel of your rapidly approaching orgasm. you were fighting against the paralysis and the overwhelming floating feeling. your pussy clenched down tight against miguel’s fingers, a sudden wetness coating most of his hand. he pumped his fingers a couple more times as he worked you through your orgasm. once your breathing settled a little he gently took his fingers out of you. he took his fingers into his mouth, grunting as your taste flooded his taste buds. 

his patience had thoroughly snapped, two iron grips digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your aching pussy. he steadily began to push himself into you, breath getting punched out of him with every inch your hot walls enveloped. once he finally bottomed out, you both needed time to catch your breath. you were so full of him and you finally felt complete. the only thing you could think about was miguel. no amount of time could have prepared you for miguel to start moving. he immediately set a brutal pace, the sounds coming out of him resembling that of an animal. 

“god you’re– holy fuck- practically strangling me. greedy pussy just sucking me in for more.” you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. miguel curled in on top of you, pressing you flush against his broad chest. one hand started rubbing hard circles into your clit, whiled the other held you firmly to him. the placement of his arm across your chest allowed him access to your nipples, something he quickly took advantage of. he tweaked and pinched the hard pebble, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. he wanted to look at your face as he caused you to come undone for a second time. your mouth had lulled open, freely drooling onto the pillow beneath your head. tears squeezed their way out of your eyes.

your bodies stuck together, the sweat clinging to your skin. miguel continued to incoherently mumble spanish to you, and you were far too blissed out to listen to anything at all. the white hot coil in the very bottom of your stomach threatening to snap. you cunt fluttered and clamped down on miguel’s dick. it only spurred him on even more, his pace punishing now as he fucked you into the mattress. a long broken scream boomed from your throat as you came, your vision going completely white despite you eyes being clenched tightly shut. your eyebrows screwed up in an expression of pure pleasure. miguel slammed down fully into you, his cock kissing your cervix as he came with a loud moan. you were already so full of his cock that there was practically no room for him cum. he watched with wide eyes and his cum spilled from your spent pussy dripping down around his cock that was still inside you.

he let you both level out before pulling out as carefully as possible. the friction still causing you to cry out in overstimulation. miguel hushed your cries by pressing light kisses all over your face and neck. his thumbs brushed away the stray tears. he finally turned you back over, carefully laying your head back down onto the pillow below you.

“can you move at all mi amor?” your headspace had still not returned to normal, seeing as how you didn’t really respond. miguel got up from the bed and quietly padded over to your kitchen. you whimpered out for him to return, not enjoying the silence of being alone in the room in this loopy headspace you’ve found yourself in. a few moments later he returned to the room, a cup of water and warm washcloth in his hands. the bed dipped underneath the weight of his body as he set the cup of water on the table for a moment and began working on getting you clean. once this was done he flung the now dirty washcloth into your hamper.

his strong arms shifted you for the last time that night, leaning you against him with your head cradled against his chest once he had gotten comfortable. with you in this position he reached over to grab the water and pressed the rim to your bottom lip, silently offering. you dipped your head back just enough to take a couple of careful sips before relaxing your head against him once again. with the rain as white noise in the background you drifted in and out of consciousness. 

“gracias, mi amor.” 

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

[1] - whatever

[2] - i was so scared that i felt like vomiting

[3] - i wanted... to thank you for saving my life

[4] - dear god... why do i get the feeling you're going to be the death of me

[velveteen-hajime]

Adonis Otogari and Microaggressions in Ensemble Stars

So, I'm sure you've all seen the most recent Adonis card. It's very pretty, it's got frills and other cute things Don isn't usually seen in...

...However, I'm sure at least some of you also noticed he's a bit on the pale side here when compared to other cards.

Why is this? Why would he be drawn noticeably lighter here and not other times? Well, one could imagine it has something to do with colorism.

Like I said before, Adonis isn't usually seen like this. The one time he's not shirtless for no reason or wearing something culturally insensitive, he suddenly looks paler.

Adonis is portrayed as "exotic" and "sexy" a lot of the time (which, if it wasn't already weird to do that with your only brown character, he's also 17, so...) and all those times, he's noticeably brown.

It's been a long standing stereotype that brown skin doesn't fit "cute" or "pretty" aesthetics. That those are for light skinned people, and light skinned people only.

Within the story itself presents another issue. In the story, Adonis goes to a flea market with Hajime. Adonis wants to sell a doll from his childhood, and has no luck until a little girl shows up.

(I'd like to specify I'm not a translator so I'm not 100% sure myself on what is exactly said, but this is going off what I read in the TL I read) The little girl tugs on Hajime to get his attention, because she's afraid to approach someone "as big" as Adonis.

This is something present in multiple enstars stories that feature Adonis. They even use Aira as a mouthpiece for this, a character who is not only supposed to be a fan of Undead, but a character who should also know what it's like to be made fun of for being mixed, as Aira was made fun of for having a half french mom when he was younger. Adonis is spoken about and described as if he's this huge, hulking monster of a boy, and he's just terrifying to look at, but is he? No.

I said on my Twitter just the other day, that every so often enstars will try to make a point about how people like Adonis are treated, but they fail because the point always comes across more as "he might seem scary but he's a really nice guy, don't judge a book by it's cover!" rather than what it should be, which is "there's nothing particularly scary about Adonis, people just demonize brown/black people for the color of their skin."

Now, you'll notice there seems to be a bit of a focus on how "big" Adonis is. How tall is he? About 5'10", which is about as tall as the tallest Ensemble Stars characters are. Adonis is around the same height as Midori, Eichi, Keito, the other members of Undead, etc. If people being afraid of him was really all about his size, you think we'd hear about it more from characters other than him. But, it seems like a topic very focused on him.

Now this isn't just a cover for characters being frightened by him for the color of his skin, the focus on Adonis being "big" when he's the same height as all the other tall characters in enstars is reminiscent of another stereotype. The "big black man" stereotype. Stereotypes about brown and black men don't just portray them as threatening creatures, but as LARGE threatening creatures. This stereotype of black men being very "big" and tall is not just a stereotype used for portraying us as a threat, but it's also seen in the oversexualization of black men.

This isn't just present in the narrative or said by other characters, but it's said by Adonis himself. A moment that comes to mind is a time where he refers to Mitsuru (and the other members of Ra*bits), as small, and talks about "protecting small creatures". Now, Mitsuru is 5'6", and the height difference between Adonis and Mitsuru is actually quite minimal.

And yet, the enstars writers feel the need to not only make other characters react to Adonis as if he's a huge scary guy, but have Adonis think that way about himself.

Like I said before, any social commentary Ensemble Stars tries to have fails when they feed into it like this. It shouldn't be "Adonis is a really nice and sweet guy despite looking scary", it should be about how he doesn't look scary at all.

Enstars wants to make good points, that much I can tell, but it contradicts itself with things like this, and that's pretty disheartening.

I mean think about it, Ensemble Stars has characters who have possibly committed murder, attempted murder, threatened other characters, carry weapons openly, are trained assassins, etc but the scariest of them all is the blasian middle eastern boy who's hobby is literally watching small animals and plays the ocarina? I mean c'mon.

[tingerines]

Pairing: Floyd x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: This is for @seajellyx for the Secret Santa Project held by @twstedsecretsanta. Happy Holidays, I hope you enjoy this small fluffy-fluff gift!

“Y/n.”

At the call of your name, the large gymnasium is filled with the sounds of gasps and mummering. You stare up at the podium with your face permanently set into a look of utter shock, because there’s no way that your name was just called.

Right?

The last thing you remember before spacing out was that the Christmas Royalties were about to be announced.

It’s apparently a tradition here at NRC: a celebration that’s a combination of what is a prom back on Earth and Valentine’s Day, where the popularly voted Christmas Royalties will have the chance to confess to their crush after being crowned — or challenge their rivals to a fight, for the less romantically inclined.

You always thought it was a ridiculous tradition. Especially when the chances of rejection and embarrassing yourself is ever present.

You’d given a thought before as to who you would confess to — though you’d hope you’d never have to. There is always a chance considering you are pretty well-known amongst the student body, courtesy of your friends’ overblot incidences and your magicless status.

And, as if the Sevens are playing a cruel joke on you, the student who had been called up to the podium first had been none other than your very own crush, Floyd Leech.

You’d met Floyd after your string of bad luck had you paired up with him as an Alchemy lab partner for the year.

At first, you thought he would be a difficult person to work with. The idea formed itself out of your preconceived notion that he is the louder and more uncontrollable of the Leech twins, thus he would never get any actual schoolwork done.

You had only witnessed him spending his free time messing with other students — your friends included — outside of class, after all.

But you were pleasantly surprised when Floyd took the initiative to reach out to you first with an offer to help, especially when the homework load got heavier as the year went by. His assistance, of course, was exchanged for a couple tight squeezes — and heavily dependent on his unpredictable mood.

Sometimes, Floyd could also be a bit flirty. He’d given you cheeky winks every now and then, or you would catch him staring at you in the middle of class with an unfamiliar glint in his heterochromic orbs.

Yet you thought nothing of it.

It was predictable of you to end up developing a crush on the man. It was a reality that your friends encouraged you to confess with the hidden hope that Floyd’s squeezes will only be reserved for you from then on.

But you’d also threaten that you’d transfer over to RSA if Floyd ever found out the truth.

But now? Flyod’s answer to “who would you like to call out to the stage?” was your name.

It was then that you began to wonder if all those times he’d been so cheeky in the middle of class was because he actually like-likes you?

“Is y/n here?” Riddle inquires into the mic again.

“That’s you. Haul ass, pal,” your friend Ace whispers as he elbows your side to bring you back to reality.

“Ugh… right,” you groan as you slowly stand up and make your way towards the stage.

Your body jerks in surprise when the overhead spotlight nearly blinds you, the bright light following your path exactly until you’re finally standing right beside Floyd.

“Well, this is quite the surprise,” you finally comment, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised at the taller man.

In typical Floyd fashion, the man reaches out and envelopes you in his arms. The squeeze he gives your body is much more gentle than normal. You manage to steal a glance at the man and return his wide smile with an amused one of your own.

“Shrimpyyyy,” Floyd coos before clearing his throat and speaking more clearly right by your ear, “sorry for doing this in such a public setting, but you wouldn’t pick up on any of the hints I’ve been giving you.”

“There isn’t much of a difference between the way you flirt and the way you treat your friends,” you chuckle, bending backwards slightly to properly look at Floyd’s face. From this close, you can see just how red his ears have gotten — and just how handsome he looks dressed so formally.

“You look marvelous, by the way. Not that you aren’t always,” Floyd compliments you as if he’d read your mind and wanted to beat you to the punch.

The cheesy words cause your cheeks to start burning up and earns more than an earful of aw’s from your briefly forgotten audience.

“Thank you, so do you— ugh,” you let out a short grunt when Floyd pulls you into another tight hug.

If anyone wanted to laugh at how silly you were making yourselves look, they didn’t. But if you weren’t busy trying not to suffocate in his arms, you’d have noticed how Floyd had thrown your audience a threatening look before they could even inhale.

“Thanks, Shrimpy,” Floyd finally takes a step back and squeezes your cheeks between his hands, tilting your head back so you’d meet his eyes. “How about a dance? I’m kind of tired of these people staring at us.”

Your lips curve up into a grateful smile as you nod, “sure.”

“I’m guessing you already know why you’re standing up here with me, but I do like you, Shrimpy. As more than a friend. I’d love to take you out on a date sometime soon.”

It’s as if those words unlocked a cage filled to the brim with butterflies. They flutter around in your stomach, leaving behind beautiful hues of reds, oranges, and yellows; warm colors that remind you of the beacon of sunshine that is Floyd Leech. You find it ironic, considering he’s from the sea.

You can’t hold back the grin that breaks into your face as you nod your head yes.

“Well, I’m glad you said something first because I like you too. Idiot,” you stubbornly admit with a playful roll of your eyes.

“That’s so cute! Congratulations!” Cater, who’d been standing and watching silently on the sidelines, suddenly yells.

With his lead, the rest of the student body begins to clap and the large gymnasium is filled with the sounds of cheers. Floyd tugs on your hand gently, and you allow him to guide you down the stage and straight to the dance floor. Large clusters of students come along, with most of them throwing confetti over your heads.

You’ve never seen them so lively outside of a good Spelldrive Tournament.

It takes a few minutes for the high energy to settle down, but finally everyone begins to break off into their respective pairs or small groups of friends.

Floyd wraps his arms around your waist, taking the opportunity provided by the slow melody playing to pull you close to him.

“Hi, Shrimpy,” Floyd beams, any signs and feelings of shyness already washed away.

“Hey,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to sway together. “You sure know how to make a scene, huh?”

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t give me much of a choice. I thought I was being pretty obvious about it,” Floyd huffs, his lower lip jutting out into a pout.

“Well, I’m sorry too. For not noticing sooner,” you offer the man an apologetic smile.

Floyd hums for a moment before the mischievous glint is back in his eyes, “you can make it up to me somehow.”

“Didn’t I already agree to a date, sir?”

“But that’s different!” Floyd practically whines, and you’re surprised he’s not stomping his feet to match his tone.

You find him adorable, albeit a bit childish.

“I think I could get used to you being so cute,” you speak your thoughts aloud without meaning to. One of your hands moves to cover your mouth as you meet Floyd’s widened eyes. “I—I mean… what do you want?”

“How about…” Floyd pauses before his eyes travel up above your heads. You follow his gaze up to find multiple mistletoes dangling from the ceiling, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

Wordlessly, you place your arm back around Floyd’s neck and gently pull him closer to you. Your faces are mere centimeters apart, just a breath away from your lips touching.

“You know it’s bad luck to not kiss under a mistletoe, right? We shouldn’t risk it.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Floyd mutters before he makes the first move to close the distance between you two.

Your eyes flutter shut right as your lips meet in a chaste and brief kiss. You couldn’t even hear the sound of your friends cheering from the top of their lungs over how hard your heart was beating.

“Floyd, don’t forget about us forever!” one of the Octavinelle residents in the crowd yells dramatically once the two of you finally pull apart.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave. I’m sorry,” Floyd rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics, but doesn’t let go of your hands despite his apology.

“I’ll see you tomorrow anyways, don’t look so sad to go!”

“You’re right, but I’ll still kick their ass for interrupting our moment.”

You laugh and nod slowly, “I can get behind that.”

“That’s my Shrimpy,” Floyd grins before planting a quick kiss onto your cheek. He finally lets go of your hands and takes a few steps backwards towards his waiting friends, “maybe I’ll come find you again for another dance?”

“I’d love that. I’ll be waiting.”

[togglesbloggle]

Free Will is a Value Statement

When I was a kid, we had a dog.  It didn’t go well.

This particular dog- one of several in my childhood, and the only time it went awry- loved us very much, and we loved him too.  But when it came to strangers, he was very aggressive, and very dangerous, and not fully under our control.  We’d have to lock him up when there were visitors to the house, and even then it was less ‘barking’ and more ‘baying of hounds’, and unlike some animals he didn’t suddenly turn nice when he was in the same room with them.  And he was large, much too large for this to be safe.  Things came to a head when my mom was taking him for a walk and he started threatening a small kid playing in their own yard, and she came back terrified that if he ever got out, somebody would be badly hurt.

I remember quite clearly the conversation where my parents told me we couldn’t keep him.  They’d made the unfortunate choice to feed me cookies at the same time, to make the bad news go down easier; the net result is that there’s a specific brand of cookies that, to this day, I still can’t eat.  They just turn to ashes in my mouth.

(The good news is that, against all odds, it seems the ‘farm upstate’ that they sent him to was actually real.  They literally saved the receipts, so that when I got old enough to realize what that kind of story usually meant, they could give me proof that they hadn’t lied.  He did live what I believe to be a happy life in what was, more or less, a wild animal sanctuary.  Not all dangerous animals are so lucky, but sometimes, they are.)

The reason to dredge this up is to notice how unthinkable it was for any of us to call him ‘evil.’  Even when he was straining at the leash as hard as he could snarling and growling at a three year old, he wasn’t evil.  ‘Dangerous’, yes.  ‘Violent’, certainly.  But not that, not ever.

And that’s how it works, right?  We recoil at using the E-word for pets, young children, anyone that’s enough weaker than we are.  Evil-as-an-adjective is for peers and superiors, things which present a genuine threat to us.  You can watch this change for the natural world in real time- us moderns watch nature documentaries about predators avidly, and not as horror films, but our received culture still has ancient fairy tales about the ‘big bad wolf’ that date from before our conquest of Earth’s ecosystems.  What a difference a little power makes!  What was once a real and imminent fear, and a central figure in the atlas of evil, has withered away to a narrative archetype with no material referent, while the wolves themselves become objects of admiration and wonder, or a focus of conservation efforts, in direct proportion to our own sense of security against them.

And maybe you’re not the sort of person who thinks about evil much at all, which is honestly a pretty good strategy most of the time.  It can often obstruct thinking more often than it clarifies.  But even if you don’t, I’ll bet you still think about ‘justice’ a fair bit- and that follows the same rules, for about the same reasons.  The punitive and remunerative kinds of justice, anyway.  Was it some kind of punishment, to have that part of my family broken away when I was a child?  Was my dog’s loss and confusion something he deserved?  Of course not.  It was just- disharmony, I suppose.  We couldn’t find a way to put the world right, and so we suffered instead.

And yet when we reach a certain level of direct personal injury or threat of injury, especially by human causes- political enemies, alien people, angry mobs- then, almost without fail, we find ourselves reaching for this idea of justice.  (And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?) Show me, anywhere in the world, where a person has in all sincerity called for justice- and I’ll show you someone who feels weak.

Now, I can point at sentences like ‘my dog was not evil,’ and it should be pretty clear that I’m making a value statement, rather than expressing mundane factual belief in the same mold as ‘grass is green.’  That is, I’m not disputing any mechanism of action, or trying to explain why events occurred as they did.  I’m not giving you information you could use to prevent this from happening to you too, much as I hope you can.  I’m telling you how I feel, about what I want, about who I am.  I’m telling you about my grief.

Loosely speaking, you can imagine beliefs falling along a spectrum.  Don’t take this typology too seriously, it’s just a useful distinction to make for present purposes.  The first extreme of our spectrum is just the observational set of beliefs- the ‘sky is blue, grass is green’ category.  These are especially good for making plans that work, since they model a system that we usually want to work with in some capacity.  If you don’t want to fall off a cliff, it helps to have a good map. The second type is imperatives or value statements, beliefs about how to direct our efforts.  ‘Murder is bad’ is a belief like any other, but instead of telling us how to accomplish a goal, it tells us what goals we ought to have and what ends we should work towards.  (Moral realists will think of this second category as being a subset of the first; that’s perfectly reasonable but orthogonal to my point.).  Both types of belief are absolutely necessary for acting in the world: the means and the end, if you like.  

Here’s where I reveal my thesis:  When, honestly, was the last time you used the concept of free will to make a plan?

“People have free will” sure feels like a factual belief, from the inside.  It’s a description of who we are, right?  Like saying we usually have two legs, like saying the Earth goes around the Sun?  Only… it isn’t doing any of the things I do with factual beliefs.  It doesn’t make predictions, it doesn’t expand my capacity to act on the world.  If anything, ‘free will’ as a concept has a weird twisty negative definition (often something like ‘nonrandom indeterminacy’) that resists analysis of the reductive kind we usually use for this sort of thing.  

And if we look at how it’s positioned in the grand constellations of human thought, it’s awkwardly conjoined with a lot of the other things I’ve been talking about here.  Good, evil, justice.  I use my belief in free will a lot when I’m talking about culpability or praiseworthiness, when I’m deciding what to act towards, when to cheer and when to boo.  

I use it when I’m feeling weak.

Or, less personally, think about where ‘free will’ crops up in our court system.  And it does, in more than a few guises.  For example, altered states that compromise our volition are taken into account, and might even qualify as fully mitigating circumstances that tell the court not to punish the transgression.  (“I was not negligent on that construction site, your honor, I’m a diabetic and I was having a blood sugar crash.”)  In other cases, such as in murder charges, malice aforethought or planning the crime carefully might upgrade the sentence to be more harsh, whereas a crime ‘of passion’ might net fewer years in prison. (First-degree versus second-degree murder.)  What all of these have in common, notably, is in assessments of culpability, relevant to the question of how strongly the community wants to punish or condemn the situation.  But when it comes to the presentation of evidence, the chain of material observations that we use to establish confidence in the story of ‘what happened’, we invoke ‘motive’ instead- that is, we ask what benefits, inducements, insults, or other circumstances might have led the defendant to commit the act.  “Your honor, the accused is ordained with free will and is capable of choice,” is, notably, not considered sufficient to establish motive- but “your honor, the defendant was listed in the victim’s will as a primary recipient, and they were seen to have a large argument two days before the murder,” very much is.  Interesting discrepancy, no?  When we ask whether we should condemn others or show mercy, we care deeply about the defendant’s capacity to exercise free choice.  But when we ask material questions about what happened, trying to get a clear picture of the world as it is, we instead ask where the defendant is positioned in a causal web of material and social circumstances.

It’s hard, really hard, to reliably tell when our beliefs are about facts, describing things other than ourselves, and when they’re doing something else, paying rent in other ways.  But I notice, when I was a little kid crying in the car, I never once asked whether any of this was my dog’s fault.  It’s not that I didn’t know whether he had free will or not; it’s that it didn’t occur to me to ask.  I asked if it was my fault, certainly.  I’m sure my parents did too.  But we never asked if it was his, whether he’d decided to be this way.  That’s just not what ‘free will’ as a concept was for.

So, am I saying there’s “no such thing as free will” in the sense that I’m saying humans are fully deterministic and mechanistic?  Nah, not really.  To reiterate: I’m not saying that I have any confidence whatsoever that humans are deterministic, mechanical agents.  I think there’s plenty of room for consciousness to complicate the story of causality in ways I can’t anticipate; there’s every chance that human brains aren’t just billiard balls bouncing around in a universe running on linear algebra or whatever.  But I don’t think that ‘free will’ as currently discussed is in any sense an alternative to that model, either.  What I’m trying to say is that ‘free will’ isn’t really a claim about what the world is like at all.

The opposite of a belief in free will isn’t ‘I assert humans are chemical robots governed by deterministic electrochemical reactions’.  Instead, the opposite is ‘I am not angry at you for hurting me.’  Free will is a value statement.

Remember that ‘rate my dog’ parody account, and the central joke was that all the dogs got scores of like 12/10 or whatever?  And the punchline to it all, when somebody tried to call them out on the uselessness of a rating system that always stayed maxed out: “They’re good dogs, Brent.”  If I were at a high enough perch- strong enough, wise enough, safe enough- then that same optimism, I think, is the only part of my need for justice that would survive.  True power doesn’t rank humans from best to worst, or spend time blaming us for outcomes that cause suffering to ourselves or to others.  It doesn’t need to.

[luescris]

Uhhhh so I wrote a Lego Movie 2 fanfiction about an idea I had if Rex was just sent back to his own timeline, click the link to AO3 but also spread this around if you can too thanks

I know this particular fandom is dead and old but. Yuh lmao

Fanfiction is under the cuttttt *dances*

The last thing Rex expected to happen when disappearing from his past–well, Emmett’s present, now (man time travel never got any less confusing)--was to find himself standing on the outskirts of a city, about a few yards away.

A city that looked like a mix between Apocalypseburg, Bricksburg… And kinda like a seven year old threw up pretty sparkly rainbow stuff in random places. In fact, it looked like it was in the middle of being rebuilt, of all things, and in truth the former Master Builder knew that he should have been excited, happy even, at this new sight before him. His past and former self would have been. 

Instead all Rex could do was stand there, utterly confused.

If it were another time, before he had saved himself, he probably would have resented the city for moving on. Without him no less. Resented his so-called friends. A part of him still wanted to hold onto that resentment. But the other… Well. He didn't know what to think now.

Before something came around and told him this was all just some messed up dream he was having and that he was actually dead, the adventurer looked himself over, checking his hands, feet, and his own heart beat. Which was all still there, still beating. What a blessing that was. Maybe this was a second chance. His second chance, or theirs.

Maybe he could finally get some answers this way. Just maybe.

Whatever the case, after goggling at the city for another minute, Rex took in a breath of air, chest rising with his arms, brows furrowing with determination, and he marched himself towards the city, towards the place he had avoided at all and any cost, up until now.

Who knew how long it had been since he disappeared. Did his friends even care? Did they even know? Had they gone out to find him at all?? Or did they give up, move on… And not even try? All these questions did was utterly annoy him as he made his way into… Wait. What was it even called now??

Turning his head left and right, he spotted a large sign in the distance that was just as messy and unorganized as the city, but much more finished than the rest. In blacks, browns, reds and sparkly pinks and blues, it read, “BRICKTOPIALYPSEBURG”. Which had him snort and shake his head, turning away. What a ridiculous thing to name something. Utter nonsense.

Still. That small part of him, the part he thought he had squashed away forever and for good, was beyond excited about all the pretty colors and new sights and sounds as he finally entered, a seemingly permanent scowl on his face as he looked around.

All around him were signs of rebuilding, of rehabilitation, from the years spent having to hide in fear from the aliens that came and quite literally ruined his whole life. As Rex walked he spotted a few workers in the distance handing each other a two by eight stacked in three, probably for support of something, and when he looked another direction found two others sitting on top of a building, chatting away the day. Probably on some sort of break. 

A few people were even walking around the city freely and happily, even mingling with Sis-Star System habitants, as if they hadn't been the very things that threatened to destroy them from day one. Not a single person paid any mind to the rather grumpy-looking man walking through, just as he had suspected would happen. Which was totally fine by him, not like he wanted the attention, anyway. He was a man on a mission, looking for something. All the way on the other side of the city. So all Rex did was give a rather nasty look at the aliens and a quiet “feh” to himself. 

And went on his way.

The farther back he went, the less BrickaTopiaLypseBurg seemed destroyed. Buildings of all shapes and sizes shone in the sun like new, greenery was even starting to return to the dirt. That same small part of him wanted to feel endlessly happy about seeing what used to be his home growing again. But Rex wouldn't let himself rejoice. Not yet. Not so soon. He had to make sure first. He had to know…

He didn't stop walking even past the city borders. It might have taken him an hour at most to walk through the entire place, but he at least hoped it was worth it. He knew he was almost there, he was so sure. 

All at once Rex froze, eyes widening with shock once they landed on something a few yards away. Something familiar.

The house… Their house.

The one he had made her all those years ago. When he was still naive and young. Clueless to what his actions would lead to. There was no possible way it was standing here now, right in front of him, but… He recognized that blue roof and yellow walls from anywhere. Glistening in the light of the falling sun, in the backdrop of a land recovering from war.

Speechless with how impossible this was, Rex moved forward, slowly. Staring at the build like it would disappear from his very own eyes any moment now. He hadn't even noticed he had made it when his toe hit the first step, his eyes moving down to the door. Nothing else could stop him as he climbed the steps and opened the door, standing in the living room.

“Not exactly an apartment, there, buddy.” 

Just for nostalgia’s sake, he breathed, “Good morning, apartment…” 

Rex flinched with a startled gasp and whipped himself around, his fight or flight instincts immediately kicking in as his hands balled into fists defensively. Turns out, there was no need to.

Because standing on the porch with her arms crossed and brows furrowed dangerously, was Wildstyle. Hair pink and blue but with that dangerous look in her eyes that also always meant business. All he could do was stare.

“You wanna tell me why you, a completely random stranger, decided to show up and snoop around in my house uninvited and unannounced??” She asked, a dangerous accusation very much in her voice. A warning on the edge of it. 

The former Master Builder and still Master Builder stared each other off for another tense minute. Seeming to gather himself, Rex managed a scoff and a roll of his eyes, straightening himself and crossing his arms with a scowl of his own.

“Thought all you city folk were supposed to be welcoming to newcomers, such as myself.” He quipped back, just as on edge.

Wildstyle’s brow creased up. “We might have been, once. But even before I don't think anyone would just walk into someone's space like they owned it, especially not in the way you just did.” She looked him up and down, skeptical. “Who are you, anyway?? What do you want?” 

He wasn't going to think about the fact that he was completely hypocritical right now, considering how many times he had left his own apartment door unlocked. He'd come home to find stuff missing every time.

Honestly, he felt beyond offended that she had not only looked at him that way, but also was asking if he wanted something. He gave her a mean look of his own. “Who said I'd want anything from you? Maybe I just got turned around somewhere. In fact, this is your own fault if anything. I mean who leaves their door unlocked before going out??” 

Regardless, his words did the trick, because now she looked mad, in a satisfying way that had Rex smirk. She stepped to the side with a glower of her own. “Whatever. Just get out. I don't want anyone as unpleasant as you in our home, anyway.” 

She didn't mean…?

Rex would have moved, he was all kinds of ready to, but how she said that last part had him pause completely. He furrowed his brows, just a little, and echoed, “... ‘Our home’?”

“None of your beezwax.” Wildstyle stretched her arm out and pointed back towards the city, hissing, “Go. Before I make you.” 

The adventurer simply raised his hands in a placating surrender, shrugging. “Okay. Okay fine, I'm going. No need for violence, lady.” 

He did just as she told him to, slowly, his eyes on hers and her eyes on his, glaring and irritated. It never took much to get her to blow a fuse, and strangely enough that had been one of the things he used to be attracted to. Among other things, but… Now was not the time.

Just before the first step, feeling her eyes on his back, he stopped and turned his head to look at her. He met his former partner’s confused look and gave one of the softest smiles he had to offer. Just as a test, just to see…

“Not much seemed to change about you despite everything else changing, ey… Lucy?” 

One second Wildstyle's eyes widened and the next Rex found his back hitting the ground, the wind being knocked out of him with a surprised, “oof!”. Then there was Lucy’s face over his, covering the sky and her glare burning as she took hold of his vest.

“How do you know that name?!” She demanded in a hiss. “Only one person can ever call me that, only one person ever knew that name!” He was tugged closer, her bangs brushing his forehead. “How do you know that name??” 

One moment he was staring up at her incredulously, then burst out laughing, rather inappropriately, making Wildstyle back up a little with angry confusion. But he couldn't help it, it was just too good. The female rebel regained her composure and held onto his vest tighter.

“What's so funny??”

Rex shook his head, trying to contain his laughter and rubbing at his eye. When he was mostly able to control it he looked up at her with one eye shut and a fat-ass grin on his face. “Ha, haha..! Sorry, not sorry actually but, man. That look on your face was priceless and so totally worth it. No Regrets, trademarked by me by the way.” He winked up at her, which had her absolutely lost again, but he paid no mind to it as he went on. “I mean seriously, though. Have I really changed that much to where even you don't recognize me anymore??” 

Wildstyle’s brows furrowed so hard it was like they were trying to connect. Her grip on his vest lessened immensely. “... What?? I don't know you. What are you talking about??” 

The ex Master Builder rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Oh of course. You're gone for more than two years and suddenly everyone you thought you knew and loved forgets who you are. How typical, but not surprising, considering that's how most of my life went.” Here was where his grin dropped and he locked a glare straight onto her shocked, bewildered face. “I would have thought that you of all people would've been different. But I guess I was wrong about that, too.” He finished, hate like venom in his voice.

Finally, she had let him go with a horrified gasp, dropping him to the ground and backing up a step. As if having been slapped. Rex sat up on his elbows to watch her face go pale, horror settling into her eyes as she beheld him. Horror and… And guilt?? Huh.

Now that was unexpected.

“No…” Wildstyle whispered, shaking her head. “No, it… It can't be…” 

Rex sat himself up and crossed his legs, nonchalant and absolutely unbothered by this display, shrugging. “And why not?? Did you expect your dearly beloved Emmett to come crawling back home instead of me?? Because he's here, alright. But he's me. And I am Rex.” He grinned again, but it was not warm. Cold and hateful. “Rex Dangervest.” 

Once again, there was another moment where the two simply stared at each other, tense like two cats ready for a fight. A coil yet to be sprung. 

But then, as shocking as ever, he witnessed as the tough and ruthless Wildstyle break before him, her eyes glossing over, a few tears even coming out of her eyes as she covered her mouth.

Okay. Not at all what he was expecting. 

Rex stayed skeptical, still, but answered anyway. “... Did you not just hear me?? I said my name is–”

“Emmett…?” She breathed, as if the name was foreign to her. 

He didn't get a chance to say anything else. Again Lucy had lunged herself forward except this time her arms were around his neck, absolutely crushing him and a sob coming from his left ear. He had his hands up, unsure what to do with them and himself in general as she held him tighter.

“Emmett, oh Emmett you're alive!!” She cried in a mix of joy, disbelief and sorrow. “I can't believe it, we thought–..! I was so sure and…!! You're here you're really here!!”

There was another mix of a laugh and a sob again. But all Rex could do was stare at nothing in the distance, what she was implying was incredibly disturbing. His chest filled with something gross and foreboding.

That small part of him from the very beginning of this journey returned and desperately wanted nothing more than to hold her back. Hold her close and never let go. But his hands moved, slowly, to Lucy's shoulders to push her off. Which she obliged to, sitting back and looking at him with confusion,  blinking at the stoney look on his face. “... Emmett?” She prodded, weary.

He didn't look at her right away. Kept his hands on her shoulders as he thought, hard. Because… Because if what she was saying was true, then everything he did… Everything he had gone through…

When Rex did finally slide his eyes up to meet hers, they were conflicted and dark. “... You thought that, all this time, I… I had been…?” 

Again there was that deep guilt that came to Lucy's expression. One she hid away from him by looking down at the ground. But she answered him regardless by just doing that.

Wildstyle's head shot up so fast even he had thought he had gotten whiplash. “What?! Oh no Emmett of course we did! We searched everywhere for you after we came back from the wedding party! We thought… We thought you had stayed back and hid but, everyone told us that you came to try to save us and hadn't seen you since…!” She used a hand to try to wipe at her eyes, trying to regain her emotions. But didn't look back up at her former partner. “Queen Whatevra’wannabe even helped us. We checked every planet, every gateway, every dimension, for so long, but… But…” 

That rage, the wound he thought he'd stitched closed, reopened. But he inhaled to keep it contained. Don't come to conclusions. Not yet. Not yet… “You… Didn't bother trying to find me…?” 

Lucy shut her eyes, as if in pain, and Rex waited. Even if it felt like his world was crumbling from under him for the second time in his life. Somehow, though, this was worse. Much worse.

She took in a shaky breath to continue, her hands folded together. “What… We found, where we should have found you, was debris. From the, first, house you built us, and… Even if we had found you, it would've been far too late to do anything. So… So we went back to Bricksburg…” Here was where more of her tears fell and again she hid away from him, as if ashamed. “And held a funeral for you.” 

That was officially the topping of the cake for him. Rex pulled himself away from her and stood, his back facing towards her shocked expression as he took a few steps away, fists clenched to hide them from shaking. He could feel her stare on his back, but didn't say anything for a while, trying to control his own reeling emotions.

When he did speak again, it was low. “So. You gave up on me, then.” 

“That's not fair.” Lucy responded, sounding downright broken that it made him flinch. “I just told you we searched everywhere we could for you. And I never gave up, Emmett, I swear. I just… We…!” 

Her voice broke. He stood there and listened to her trying to quell quiet sobs. His already broken heart bleeding again.

“... I'm sorry.” She eventually whispered. “I'm so sorry I left you. That we… That we gave up. We never meant to, we just… We couldn't find you. Where were you??” 

All this time… Rex had assumed they forgot. That they didn't care. But it wasn't that. They didn't know.

Which, in retrospect, if he hadn't let his doubts get to him… Would have made sense. 

But how long would he have been under there for?? How long would he be left to waste if he didn't take matters into his own hands?? What would have become of him? If he had just done nothing…

His past self was proving him wrong. Once again. They, or at least Lucy, still did care. She would have come for him, in another time. Another time that wasn't his own. She still did care, by the house she most certainly remade with her own two hands. Exactly how he had made it. Called it “their home”. 

The least he could do now… Was give her a proper answer.

“... I was in the Undar of the Dryar System.” Rex finally tells her past the lump in his throat. “In the Man Upstairs’s realm. For five years.” 

A cold chill that didn't come from the breeze filled the thick tension in the air. There was no indication that Lucy would start talking again. So he did.

“I waited there. Convinced that someone, anyone, would come find me. Help me out. But the longer I waited, the more I thought, ‘This was my fault. They were right. I'm useless.’”

“I made myself get up.” Rex went in like he hadn't heard her. “I got tired of waiting. Of being useless. A nobody. So I became a somebody. Rex Dangervest.” He raised his hands as if presenting a sign that held his name, then dropped them. “I thought I had to, because no one else told me otherwise. You wanted me rough, tough, edgy. Just like you.” Here was where he turned to her, expressionless to her raw despair. “And now, that's what you got. And you're still not happy?” 

“Emmett-”

Somewhere in between his monologuing Lucy had gotten up off the ground herself, but she looked sick. Stuck to where he was pinning her down with the haunted look in his eyes.

“... But, you know I'm not.” The Master Builder rebel manages to get out. “Don't you see that?? I'm not happy, but for something else completely. This… All of this,” She motioned to his whole self. “Was not what I wanted. Does it look like I'm happy…? Happy that you had to suffer like that??” 

Rex only stared at her for a minute, analyzing, then looked down at the ground. Which invited her to move up to his side, ever so slowly and carefully. Her hand found purchase on his shoulder and he turned his head away from her.

It was now her turn to continue, and his to listen. “I was wrong for wanting to change you. You're kind, funny, smart… Everything this world needed. Everything that I needed. I just, didn't see that sooner and it… It cost everything.” 

He raised his head to finally stare back at her, much less intense. The sunset highlighting her highlights and skin, her eyes glistening. He always liked her eyes…

She tightened her grip on his shoulder when he did. Maybe for encouragement or support, he couldn't tell. “I never should have tried to change you. You're perfect. Just the way you are. The way you have always been.” Lucy’s expression fell into guilt and sorrow then. “Sorry won't fix any of this. I know it's too late. I don't even expect a second chance. But, Emmett…” 

The hand on his shoulder lifted to cup his cheek, so tender and soft it took his breath away. When she blinked again, tears trailed down her cheeks. Not many, but enough.

He wasn't ready to admit that out loud, though. So, instead, he lifted his own hand and wrapped it around her wrist gently, pulling it away without breaking eye contact. 

“I missed you.” Lucy breathed. “I was so lost without you… And now you're back. That's all I needed.” 

Rex stared at her for a long, long time. Her words revolved around his head. She was right. It didn't fix any of it. He didn't think it ever could… But he also knew none of this was really her fault, either. If anything, it was his own. He couldn't take her apology until he fixed himself. Somehow.

“... No.” He murmured. Watching as Wildstyle's eyes widened. “I'm not back. I don't think I'll ever be. … Emmett is gone.” It hurt, terribly, but he had to. He had to step back and let go of her wrist. “I told you. The name is Rex now. … No Regrets.”

Something broke in Wildstyle's gaze. But he won't stick around to fix it. He couldn't.

Rex Dangervest, walking corpse of Emmett Brickowski, stepped around the person they both cared about the most, and left her in the metaphorical and literal dust. Leaving her to stand there in front of their house, watching him leave. 

No Regrets. He reminds himself as he makes his way back to the city. Even as his heart bleeds and bleeds and bleeds. Trademarked and mine.

[willowpenguinwritting]

I've got you---- A short Broadchurch fanfic

Well hello there, I've got myself fixated on Broadchurch again..... and well an Alec/Ellie idea came into my head so I had to write it obviously. The gif I chose I thought was actually almost like them if Ellie had purchased herself a pinkish maroon coat (I am really sorry I can't describe colours.... rhubarb perhaps?)

It had started as an ordinary day for both Alec and Ellie, Their boss had called out "DI Hardy, my office." across their floor. In response to this most of their coworkers rolled their eyes before really thinking, since Ellie's promotion to detective inspector and also her marriage to Alec they had constantly got to witness the joy of the pair of them rushing around gathering papers and then franticly racing towards whoever had called them.

Some of their coworkers said they should have really made bets on them getting married, some even claimed to have said things to Ellie along the lines of "You'll turn into a DI Hardy if you're not careful." which now had only proved to be extremely ironic. If their coworkers were being honest after entering the relationship they seemed to only mess with eachother even more and if anything were even more professional than they were before.

Once the pair had both arrived at their boss's office she couldn't help but release a laugh and a small comment "I do simply adore how easy it is to summon you both to me." Alec rolled his eyes in response and Ellie had to suppress a giggle and the comment she so desperately wanted to make of how she could probably get Alec to do anything for her but Alec would say she was sounding too much like some of their coworkers who would eagerly taunt them at any given second.

"We received a call just minutes ago containing a possible case of robbery and I would like to send you both out to check the scene, the only issue is that the caller seemed to be in the belief that they stole very important government papers and also a gun." explained their boss.

Alec grumbled slightly whilst Ellie nodded taking a few notes in her notebook. To reach a clean page she had needed to flip past one of the pages that she hadn't written on but the messy scrawl of her husband's words filled the page. "You are beautiful" they read, Ellie was still in quite a bit of shock if she was honest about how much of a soppy romantic he could be.

"I have sent Alec the address to your satnav so head off right away." Their boss told them. Alec continued to roll his eyes but he held out Ellie's coat to her and then hastily sped down the stairs to the car park.

At this point in time Ellie could claim that she had now been trained to catch up with her ever-racing husband as he sprinted downstairs faster than she ever thought her legs could take her.

Once they were both sat in the car with their seatbelts buckled Ellie began to talk "So how are you feeling about all this? I can tell something is bothering you."

"The gun El, why did they take a gun? Were they feeling threatened by something?" Alec explained as he clicked the indicator to turn left.

Ellie hummed to herself for a bit, "Do you think they would still have it in their possession if we were to encounter them?"

"I wouldn't doubt it but if they have a large bulge in their trousers we should just assume it is a gun and not that they are pleased to see us." Alec joked.

His wife shook her head in disbelief "Oh my god I never should have let you watch Sherlock with Tom especially not scenes with Moriarty in them."

"Well I think the best thing for it is to just hope that we don't encounter them. I really wish we had more information to go on but we can't know much until we bloody arrive." Alec complained.

Ellie tried to create a reassuring smile in response but internally was unsure about whether or not it would actually be a good idea to say anything. Cases like these with little to no information to go on always agitated him but he claimed his anger fueled him so to let him be angry. At first, she hadn't realised how much his anger powered his job until he started seeing im outside of work more and that happiness and smile was something she felt sure she would never find again no matter how hard she looked.

Once they had reached their destination according to the navigation system Alec found them a place to park and then the pair departed from the car to walk up to the house with the supposed break in. It was a rather large house and was easily obvious that somone with at least a bit of money would live inside based off the gates alone. Alec opened the black metal gate and led Ellie in to the grounds. The gate swinged benhind them and shut with a cling.

"I think we should walk the perimiter before we knock on the door, get to know the exits and everything." Alec suggested. Ellie nodded in agreement and waited for Alec to lead their way walking as usual. Alec however did not instantly start to lead them, instead he grabbed onto Ellie's hand without any prior warning.

Confusion paints itself all across Ellie's face so in an attempt to reassure him she says "I am not scared you don't need to hold my hand."

"You might not be scared but I need to know you are here, especially with the possibility of a gun involved." Alec tried to explain in a rough whisper.

It takes a moment or so for Ellie to fully process what he said but by the time she has she informs him "I'm here, I've got you don't worry."

Alec then says "I know Tom's friends call you a badass or whatever and you can handle things yourself but that doesn't mean I don't worry." as they begin to walk around the house. Alec pauses on occasion to note down the location of any windows big enough to exit out of.

"I can't decide if you worrying about me is worrying or not," Ellie mutters under her breath.

Alec at this point is back into detective inspector mode so doesn't reply.

Once he believes he has constructed a suitable map of the house they head to the door. Ellie reaches her hand out to ring the doorbell. Alec lets go of Ellie's hand in an attempt to restore professionalism and that his wife is fine. They remain stood outside for another three minutes before Ellie asks "Should I try knocking, the bell might be broken?"

"I think we will have to force our way in," Alec sighs as he begins to twist the handle. Surprisingly it turns and allows them to push the door open and enter the house.

Ellie follows Alec into the house and slowly closes the door with a slight creak, "The door hasn't been oiled for a while, which could suggest a lack of care for the house or lack of use."

Alec nods in agreement and jots down a quick note about it. "I think our first step is going to have to be finding out who made the phone call to us it was only what fifteen minutes ago at max?"

"I'd say so." Ellie agrees, "So what are we looking for?"

Alec announced the mental list he had begun to construct "Any signs of forced entry to the property.... any signs of where the person who made the phone call to us is and... also possibly the phone they called the police from."

"Should I take upstairs and you take down?" Ellie asked making notes in her notepad of the things her husband mentioned.

Alec nodded in agreement and so Ellie began her journey up the polished wooden stairs. Alec was heading into what he believedeved to be the kitchen when he heard her call "Alec, I am in the third bedroom. I suggest you call for forensics."

Alec began to franticly click the phone button for their boss's number as he franticly climbed the stairs to reach where Ellie was. He pushed the door open to see his wife's shocked face and the body of a man lying accross what was a previously white duvet and pillow set.

Before finishing processing the body he began firing instructions at his boss to send backup and forensics NOW. Ellie bit her lip as she tried to observe what had happened.

"I think this might be the man who phoned us, Jenkinson didn't happen to mention if he finished the call abruptly but the smashed phone next to him suggests it could have been." Ellie explaied her findings.

Well, I don't have the time to work more on this right now but I might keep writing it at somepoint and publish a full version onto AO3.... the main intention of this was the hand holiding but I could always turn into a longer actual mystery.

[am-i-the-asshole-2]

Aita for purposefully lying to people?

I feel a bit like an asshole here, but my brother says I'm not while my partner says I am

I (white, nb 19) work at a small family owned UK import store in a large urban city that has a large poc population. The business only has 4 employees, including me (F white 33, F white 60s, F Chinese 50s* (she works in the kitchen in the back)), and only one of us is tending the store per day. My bosses (F 50s, M60s) are very hands off and just leave most of the work to us.

My bosses are a husband and wife, and while they are very sweet, the husband is a trump supporter and makes jokes about POC, women, and queer people, and even with us he gets a little too open and asks about things he shouldn't. While his wife is honestly just a very sweet women. I'm very open about my queerness and they know I have a partner, they haven't said anything about it. They're not cruel, the wife is Chinese so I think the husband dials it back a lot for her but the racism is definitely there.

The customers that come in though... are openingly racist, homophobic, and just overall offensive? I'm not trying to generalize but it applies to probably,,, 45% of our customers

Now for the actual AITA part.

One of my coworkers is quitting soon, so we've been accepting applications, theres no posted hiring sign but if someone comes in and asks if we're hiring we can take their resume if we deem them to be a good fit for the company

Because of the high poc population, there's been a lot of them coming in, but the vast majority of them speak very little, and very broken English, to the point where I can't understand what they're saying, and some they get angry and threatening when I don't understand them

But even when they're not being threatening, I still say that were not accepting resumes, and point them to a bunch of places that are hiring and even directions to those places and what buses to take to get to it

I do this because I know that if they got hired and if they started working at my workplace, it would be a living HELL for these people. No one that comes in speaks the language they speak (it's all the same Ethnicity), and the customers that come in are raging racists, even to me! Because I'm the "wrong kind of white" being Irish and not British. I feel like that if they never even knew that we were accepting applications there's no harm to it?

I still feel like an asshole for it but I genuinely just don't want them to deal with these horrible customers, and their English isn't just a little bad or below average, it's genuinely incomprehensible. It's a "they can't understand when I ask about their day" bad, and in an English import shop it just wouldn't go well

So- AITA for lying to people?

[pregtboy]

hi i’m poppy from @widenmyhips, i love with your blog!! could you write anything featuring ripping clothes/popping buttons? i love embarrassment or humiliation or a little unwillingness?

feel free to send an ask my way if you’d like anything in exchange!!

yess!!!

imagine a guy whose husband is heavily pregnant with quintuplets and running out of things to wear, so he insists on taking his pregnant husband out to buy some more clothes. the only problem is the preggo boy isn't one to show off his figure and has barely left the house since he'd outgrown all his xl paternity clothes. he was also very easily embarrassed, so he was naturally reluctant about the idea, but his darling insisted - and the five big babies growing in the boy's belly were proof that his husband always got what he wanted.

to get ready for his shopping trip, the boy squeezed himself awkwardly into one of the last fitting outfits he had left, and 'fitting' was a generous way to describe the ensemble. the pale pink button up didn't even cover half of his expanded, rounded belly, the buttons straining over his engorged chest threatened to pop at any moment, and the seams of his pants were quite visibly strained along his impressive hips. all the clothing, despite not originally meant to be skintight, clung readily to his curves, leaving none of his figure to the imagination.

the husband smirked as he watched his boy waddle the store aisles in his poorly fitting outfit. the boy blushed the whole time, eyes fixed to the ground as his swaying hips and bouncing chest and belly garnered stares from the other shoppers. as they perused the paternity selection, the husband began grabbing items with reckless abandon - all of which he knew would be far, far too small on his husband and much too revealing for his tastes - but he didn't care. he plopped the clothes into the boy's arms and instructed him to hit the fitting rooms.

the boy was cramped in the tiny fitting room, his belly taking up most of the space and making it very difficult to turn around. he sighed as he freed his bust from the button-up and wiggled his thick hips out of the tight pants he had been wearing. he could practically hear the seams snapping as he shimmied out, now standing in his underwear before the mirror, heavy and full.

the first thing he tried on was a stretchy, skin-tight striped shirt. it was quite large and had a lot of flexibility to it, so the boy had high hopes. sure, he wasn't particularly fond of the way it clung so tightly to his chest, emphasizing his extreme business, but it was perhaps the only thing in the store that might actually fit over his belly - and it miraculously did, though the stripes, now stretched out nearly to their limit, only made his belly look twice as huge. he blushed as he looked in the mirror, almost stunned at how curvy he'd become. he was able to take the shirt off with ease, but was appalled to see what had happened to it when he removed it - the belly area of the shirt had been stretched out to its fullest extent, looking ten sizes bigger than when he put it on and the fabric of the belly area looking thin and weary. the boy flushed with embarrassment at the realization that his big belly had done that to the shirt after just one wear.

next was a pair of pants. he scoffed when he looked at them, knowing they were obviously too small, but his husband scolded him from outside the fitting room, hearing his sounds of disapproval.

'just try it on!'

he listened to his husband as he always did, but it was futile - the jeans had little give and could not be hiked up any further once they reached his mid-thigh, no matter how much the boy bounced and wiggled. defeated, he bent down to shake the pants off when he was almost immediately greeted with a loud ripping sound. he looked down to see the inseams utterly snapped - the friction of his immense thighs had ripped the seams like tissue paper. he squeaked in surprise while the husband listened on gleefully. his face burned with frustration as he tossed the pants aside, moving onto the next item - a tiny button-up.

the boy almost laughed when he saw it. the idea of fitting into that thing was preposterous, and his husband knew it. by now, he had become smug, and the pregnant boy grew sick of it - he decided he would prove his husband wrong. he wrestled himself into the shirt, and when all was said and done, it only covered his chest - his belly hung out fully bare and on display, but he could at least say he managed to put the shirt on and button it up.

he was proud of his handiwork, and quickly threw open the door to gloat to his husband who had been sitting on the bench outside the fitting room.

'look, i fit into the shirt!' he declared proudly, gesturing to his jiggling bust. the gaps between the buttons were stretched wide, and you could easily see cleavage through them, but the boy hardly cared - he had gotten the shirt on, and that was what mattered. 'nice try, asshole!'

before he could revel in his pride for much longer, the inevitable happened. just as his husband had anticipated, the swift movement of throwing open the door caused the overstressed buttons to give way, popping clean off. the boy yelped as his milk-swollen breasts tumbled out exaggeratedly, the shirt falling flimsily at his sides as the buttons rattled on the ground in front of him. his gravid form was on full display now, and passers by gasped and gawked when they caught sight of his exposed heaving breasts and heavy bare belly. the boy turned beet red, but his humiliation wasn't over yet - as he hurriedly turned to hide back in the fitting room, his husband followed, closing the door behind him and locking them both within the tiny space.

the boy was already crowded in the fitting room just with himself and his quintuplet belly, and his husband, grabbing his gravid sweetheart from behind, had to press himself practically on top of him just to fit in the little room.

'god, i should fuck you right now,' the husband growled, his warm breath on the pregnant boy's neck and his large hands planted on both sides of the boy's firm belly, gripping him tightly and lightly bouncing his round stomach, an act at which the boy winced. 'you look so good, you're gonna make me take you right here~'

'no!' the boy hissed, wiggling his hips in a vain attempt to escape the embarrassment. 'people were already staring before, don't you dare!'

'alright, alright,' the husband conceded, his hands now grabbing fistfuls of the boy's rounded ass. 'fine. but there's one more outfit, and you're gonna wear it.'

the boy's eyes darted to the tiny pink spandex sports bra and booty shorts that sat on the fitting room bench in front of him.

'absolutely not.'

'i didn't ask. plus, it's already paid for. i scanned it while you were looking around. and we have to buy all those other clothes too, since you damaged them so badly...'

'dickhead,' the boy scoffed, still instinctually grinding against the taller man with the little space he had in the room.

'you know you love me,' the husband cooed. 'now put it on for me.'

the boy was beet red as he took off his bra and put on the sports bra, it's fabric clinging tightly to the bulky roundness of his breasts and holding them nicely in place. he then slid the tiny shorts over his widened birthing hips and presented himself to his husband with a pout, avoiding eye contact and blushing all the while. his thighs spilled out from the shorts, rubbing against one another, and his swollen boycunt was well advertised by the tight fabric. his belly hung out, bare and taut, rife with stretch marks. the shorts also left absolutely nowhere for the absolute size and roundness of his ass to hide. he was on display like a trophy, and his husband was clearly enjoying the show.

'quit smirking at me like that.'

'i can't help it, you're just so gorgeous,' the husband purred. 'my big round boy. now cmon, let's check out.'

he put his hand hungrily on the small of his scantily clad husband's back, attempting to usher him out of the fitting room.

'hell no! i'm not wearing this in the store, nobody needs to see that!'

'like i said, it's already paid for, so be a good boy for me. you don't want to be in trouble when we get home, do you?'

the boy whimpered, his face heating up even more.

'that's what i thought,' the husband smiled sweetly, opening the fitting room door to make way for his lover's huge belly. 'good boy~'

the pregnant boy grumbled as the couple made their way to the checkout line, his husband walking proudly - and slowly - with his arm around the boy's waist, smirking at the passers-by whose jaws hung agape at the boy's sheer size and total lack of modesty. the boy's eyes stayed fixed on the ground, though all he could see when he looked down were his breasts swaying and burgeoning from the hot pink fabric and his enormous belly, covering any glimpse of the ground in front of him. he was confronted by his fertile, paraded curves wherever he looked, and when it wasn't that, it was the unrelenting stares of the strangers around him.

'why are you walking so slow?' the boy mewled under his breath, attempting with no success to waddle out of his husband's grip.

'to show you off,' he smirked. 'really let them enjoy the view, y'know?'

'i hate you,' the boy snarled.

'no you don't, muffin,' his husband said confidently. 'if you did, you wouldn't have let me make you so big.'

the boy turned somehow redder, and just when he thought the humiliation had reached its apex, he doubled over with a whimper.

'agh, fuck~' he moaned, his legs trembling as he clutched his distended, on-display belly.

the other shoppers were now undeniably curious, some stopping in their tracks to stare at the situation unfolding before them. the boy whimpered, feeling every eye on him as he weakly cradled his abundant abdomen. the husband quickly bent down to the boy's level with genuine concern in his eyes which quickly turned into mischievous delight as soon as the boy spoke.

'i think i'm having a growth spurt...'

[frixiot]

Utilising tumblrs long word counts to dump my Oc info here for easy access 🙏 this is mostly to link on other socials but ig if you’ve come across this your welcome to read too (note I’m not a writer, i just don’t have the time to draw all this)

Here is a summary of how my current Dnd characters met & fell for each other :)

Arkzire ended up joining the Wavecutter after the captain of Tyrnan’s ship found him chained up in a ship they were raiding (long story). He was knocked unconscious while leaving that ship so Tyrnan didn’t properly meet him till the morning. When Arkzire woke aboard the ship he left his room still a bit dazed (& probably concussed) to look around. He saw a couple crew members on deck but his attention was immediately drawn to Artemis, who is Tyrnan’s beloved pet/familiar (a wandering albatross!). Arkzires special interest is birds & his absolute favourites are Albatrosses but he’d never seen a real one before, so he went over to her right away. Leaning down to marvel at her, not knowing that she belonged to someone.

In his excitement he did not notice the man standing patiently right behind him. After having a thorough stare at the bird, Arkzire took a step back & was startled by bumping into… her owner, Tyrnan! Poor Tyrnan hardly got a word in before Arkzire yelped out a sorry & ran off embarrassed. Tyrnan assumed he’d scared him & felt bad about that (for once), the captain had told him specifically to be nice to the new guy. Whereas Arkzire ran off because he was not expecting to turn and be greeted by what in his eyes was ‘the most handsome man he’d ever seen’. Tyrnan would spend the rest of the day trying to get a proper introduction in without startling him, and Arkzire spent the rest trying to make himself look a bit less dishevelled (he had half his face bandaged & was covered in various small injuries from his rough treatment aboard the bloodhounds ship). Eventually they did get to properly introduce themselves, Tyrnan tried his best to appear non threatening as he truly thought Arkzire was terrified of him.

The days after that they didn’t talk very often as Arkzire was too nervous to initiate anything. He got assigned cleaning duty & would get a little distracted watching Tyrnan doing all the heavy lifting on the ship, he got caught staring a couple times. Arkzire knew he had a crush but wasn’t thinking it’d go anywhere and tried to brush it off, he didn’t think it was even appropriate for him to be having these thoughts about the first mate, let alone any crew member. He briefly discussed his crush with his new friend Quill who, having known this crew for years, questioned Arkzire’s choice in men.

The first more private moment between them happened when Tyrnan offered to help with the healing of the large wound on Arkzire’s face, left on him by the Grell of the bloodhounds when he was rescued. Arkzire had kept that half of his face covered in bandages since he got it and seemed afraid to even look at it. Tyrnan has healing magic & wanted to help, so they went to a more private room as Arkzire was still nervous for others to see the wound. He sat on a table & Tyrnan unravelled his bandages to take a look, Arkzire was expecting just a quick spell and they’d leave.. Tyrnan had innocent intentions, he just wanted to help (which he did) but he also solidified Arkzire’s crush tenfold by doing this… Tyrnan got quite close to him & while almost holding Arkzires face, slowly traced a thumb along the wound which spans from his forehead to just below his lip, using magic to heal the wound to a clean scar. An unintentionally high romantic tension scenario (quite especially when he got to the lip bit of the scar) which Arkzire could not stop thinking about for the next couple days..

Over the next few weeks-months they’d talk more and grow closer, the captain who is Tyrnans (adoptive/non biological) older sister noticed the two spending more time together. Being happy at the prospect of her brother actually being friendly with someone, she paired them up often, mostly for training type things as Arkzire was still new to all this pirate stuff. Tyrnan can be quite inept to people showing romantic interest in him, so by not noticing he only furthered it for the both of them, it took him awhile to notice that what he was feeling was more than friendship.

He did finally notice this was something more when the two started meeting on the top deck at night alone. It started as an accidental meeting, Arkzire had gone out to get some fresh air and think after waking from a bad dream, Tyrnan was also up late writing and saw a troubled looking Arkzire out on the deck and went to check on him. Then a few nights later they saw each other out there again, and again, until they were meeting nightly and neither could deny it was accidental. They’d sit out there talking and gazing at the stars, but Tyrnan never really was looking up at the night sky, his eyes always ended up wandering to Arkzire’s direction. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but the sight of his silver hair bathed in moonlight couldn’t help but draw Tyrnan’s attention more than the night sky. He wanted to tell Arkzire how beautiful he looked.

And then one night he realised that feeling was mutual, when in a little burst of confidence Arkzire moved right next to him and rested his head against his shoulder. After sitting like that for awhile, eventually his hand resting around at Arkzires waist, Tyrnan couldn’t keep it in him anymore,

“I think I’m in love with you” he said,

“I think I am too” Arkzire responded.

That night as they said goodbye, Arkzire gave Tyrnan a kiss on the cheek. And the night after, Tyrnan would ask if he could give Arkzire a proper kiss.

Some crew members could tell early on the two were together, noticing them holding hands under the dining room table & exchanging loving glances throughout the day. On one particular morning as Quill woke early he saw Arkzire suspiciously leaving Tyrnan’s quarters after being missing all night, he called it (& now Nox owes him 3 gold pieces for the bet they placed).

And then after a month of them being incredibly unsubtle, Captain Rita forgot to knock on her brothers door before entering and walked in on the two making out, cats out the bag. Might as well tell everyone, so they did. The crew eventually became accustomed to the lovebirds, although it initially was shocking for them to see Tyrnan’s sweeter side & hear his language change around his new lover, who knew he was secretly such a romantic!

Thx if u read all the way :) here’s when they got walked in on lol

[wickedfangharpg]

This was my first time drawing fire all the way back in 2022; I actually haven't had reason to draw fire again since XD I'm pretty sure I could do a lot better now though!

[Story below, TLDR here] Soren and Quillan started their journey back to town, setting up camp (and a massive fire) when it got dark. They talk while watching the fire, Quillan isn't afraid of Soren anymore, and it's safe to say that they're officially friends now.

[Story] Now that the bodies had been disposed of, Soren would need to head back to town to turn in the heads for a bounty, and Quillan would go back home. However, both places were a ways off from where they'd gone, so they wouldn't make the ride before nightfall.

Since coming upon Soren and her wagon of victims, Quillan had assumed that she'd kill him if he tried to run away or anything; however even after the mess had been taken care of, she was still kind to him and didn't even discreetly try to threaten him. He had imagined he'd have to flee an attempt at his life by now, since he wasn't useful anymore. Perhaps it was only because she had an 'alibi' of killing for a bounty, but it did seem to him like she was being genuine. He knew it wasn't a good idea to trust an actual murderer, but it's not like he hasn't killed anyone himself; although not nearly as brutally, and for completely different reasons. Probably. He still didn't know why she'd killed them if she hadn't known they were wanted to begin with.

As the sun approached the horizon, they would find a large clearing to camp out in for the night. Soren noted the bloodstains within the wagon and quite joyfully concluded it should be disposed of too. Although the wagon looked like it was on the verge of falling apart as it is, Quillan was sure Soren just wanted an excuse to use her axe again.

The wagon made for a good-sized bonfire, which was easy to keep under control thanks to the rain earlier. The two ended up making small talk while they tended the flames, and once it was dark enough that Quillan could safely remove his cloak, he would lay it on the ground to sit on so they wouldn't have to sit in the wet grass.

It was while they sat together when Quillan finally asked Soren why she'd killed those people. She frowned and stared at the fire silently for a moment before she would simply state that they were doing a lot of harm, and she ensured that they were stopped. Quillan was certain there was more to it than just that, considering the state of the bodies, but he wouldn't pry. At this point it was clear to him her victims more than likely deserved what they got; and judging from her reaction to the question, it was likely a touchy subject for her.

Soren would then ask Quillan why he'd helped her if he assumed her to be some kind of psycho killer or something. Quillan hesitated, but admitted his assumption that she would kill him too if he didn't do as she asked.

Overcome with amused guilt, Soren failed to refrain from laughing as she hid her face and gave him the gentlest pat on the shoulder. Quickly assuring him she had no intentions of harming him, before apologizing all over the place for frightening him and making him feel like he had to stay and help her with her gruesome task.

Quillan said it was fine, jokingly stating that he was just glad his curiosity hadn't lead him straight into danger for once.

The conversation moved to the horses as the two watched their sleepy steeds dozing off nearby. Soren introduced her horse Victorious Rhythm, whom she'd affectionately nicknamed Tori for short, since 'Victor' sounded much too human. She did admit he had belonged to one of her victims, so she had only known this stallion a short time; though he's evidently been very well behaved, nothing seemed to really faze him so far.

Quillan went on to explain that his horse Gilded Delight was nearly the opposite; although well trained, she was highly sensitive, to the point where she can and will warn him even when the weather was about to suddenly change; whether he wants her to or not. It's a little annoying that she reacts to everything, but she isn't one to misbehave much or spook too easily, so it's not a huge hinderance.

There wouldn't be any more awkward silences between the pair, simply enjoying each other's company and talking about whatever while they kept the fire under control. Once it had died down on its own, they would settle down to sleep for the remainder of the night.

[andie-cake]

actually i'm gonna talk abt my new pmd ocs anyway, choice is an illusion

so! these guys are called team zephyr! they're composed of an archen named riley, a hoothoot named sawyer, and a tropius named koa! details abt them below the cut!

riley (she/her) is our amnesiac human-turned-pokémon protagonist, in her case becoming an archen and waking up on the outskirts of a large, notoriously rough town called rumblerock city with no memories. riley is quite strong despite her timidness, but she's very insecure about her fighting ability (my sort of in-universe explanation for the archen line's defeatist ability). she has a strong fear of electric type moves- thanks to an unpleasant encounter with a violent luxray who threatened her, and she struggles a lot with being taken seriously as a flying type who famously can't fly (mainly bc her team works at a guild composed entirely of flying types, more on them later). but beneath all the insecurity is probably the most qualified mon to be the leader of her team, as she is a very quick thinker who can step up to get things done, and is driven by a strong desire to help those in need.

sawyer (he/him) is a chatty, inquisitive hoothoot with an insatiable desire for knowledge. being raised in a small, middle-of-nowhere town, sawyer was kept rather isolated from the rest of the world, and has only recently left in search of adventure. he was at the top of most of his classes in school, and that kinda got to his head and gave him an ego. plus, he can be rather impatient. as a result, he tends to come off as a blabbermouthed know-it-all with a swelled head and a short fuse to those who don't know him very well. but those who do know him well (like riley and koa) can easily tell you that he's also very resourceful and clever with a good sense of humor, and that he's a surprisingly capable fighter for someone so small and un-intimidating.

and koa (any pronouns) is a sweet-natured tropius with a heart as big as their stature. koa is the gentle giant of the team, soft-spoken, great with kids, and overflowing with compassion. they've spent much of their life traveling around with their herd, never staying in one place for very long until they teamed up with riley and sawyer. he's a big softie, occasionally too much of a softie, as he's very non-confrontational. she struggles to speak up for herself, and if riley and sawyer start arguing, then she has a hard time playing peacekeeper. but when things get rough, they're no pushover. harm a kid or one of her teammates, and oh buddy, i sure hope you like a sunny day + solarbeam combo from a pokémon with the solar power ability!

team zephyr operates from a guild in a town called windcall mountain peak, which- as the name implies, is a town on top of a mountain. the guild employs only teams composed of flying types ("sky teams", they call themselves, they specialize in missions on high-up places like mountain peaks and mystery dungeons that have formed in the clouds), and while most of the pokémon there are very kind, some of them are very haughty about what qualifies as a "real" flying type. and riley, being an archen, cannot fly until she evolves into archeops (and even then, archeops are better runners than fliers). so, she faces some opposition when team zephyr joins the guild. but of course, with the help of her partners, riley tries to prove the naysayers wrong, and hopefully recover her memories in the process.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

What’s This? Natemare is EVOLVING!

Scaredy/SCARED-E

Yes, that name was inspired by both Pizzaria Simulator’s Lefty/LEFT-E and WALL-E. Don’t judge me.

His name is, obviously, a greater acronym: S.eek C.all A.nalyze R.estrain E.ncapsulate D.estabilize E.liminate  

He’s a defunct/abandoned animatronic. (I’ll be using Nate’s latest merch design  for his description, and it was very clearly inspired by Sister Location’s Funtime Animatronics)

The casing of his body has been carefully designed to make him look like he’s wearing clothes. I like to think that it’s similar to Phantom’s outfit: black slacks and a black vest, but with a blue shirt.

He’s also got a black bowtie instead of a necktie, but it’s actually a larger button attached to his neck and chest. Pressing it will cause a section on his throat to slide open, revealing his harmonization module. It contains a row of switches and dials that need to be toggled with in order for Scaredy’s voice to be properly in-tune.

He can speak with his own original voice, but has also been programmed to mimic/sync the voices of others.

He stands at a very intimidating 8’3. (According to the Sister Location blueprint easter eggs, Circus Baby is canonically 7’2)

There’s a tiny fog machine inside his mouth. It activates when he speaks/sings, and makes it look like smoke is pouring out between his teeth.

You know that hole in the middle of his face where his nose should be? There’s actually a small, well-hidden button in there. If you press it, his face plates will pop open (press it a second time to close them).

There’s a loudspeaker on his chest, beneath his bowtie. One of the systems inside his head is a database for songs and music, which can be updated and shuffled.

Each of his fingers has a retractable, built-in guitar pick. (Keep in mind, however, that he can only play a guitar if it’s been specifically built to connect with his systems.)

His sensors can be activated by sound, light, and movement/proximity.

The interior of his torso is a large, hollow storage tank (which might not be quite so empty). It can be accessed via pressing the red button on his right cheek, which will cause a hatch on his stomach to slide open. 

Metal framing inside him holds back his gears, prongs, and other sharp mechanical parts. But if you press the red button on his left cheek, the framing will disengage, his endoskeleton parts will recoil inward and. . .well, the process wouldn’t be pretty. In fact, it’d be agonizing.

He used to be the star attraction of a recently closed-down haunted house (more on that in the near future). He was programmed to perform twisted, threatening songs that would be played all across the building. His music was basically treated as a soundtrack for visitors to listen to. 

He would also pause his songs to taunt visitors as they passed through his section (jumping at someone who got too close to him, making morbid jokes/puns, etc.)

He was typically kept onstage in a room at the center of the building. But on certain occasions, he’d be allowed to wander around the halls and look for visitors to. . .surprise, let’s say. . .

He’ll be featured in my last Goretober story 😈

[the-firebird69]

We have to say something they're not taking it seriously no they are the movies made in Australia and the place is used to getting beaten up but if you think it was San Francisco it brings it to the eye with practically everybody and it kind of showed with Australia that's always been sort of a war zone it's not entirely true but it really has been ravaged quite a bit we have to keep in mind a lot of people are from Australia this place being the status it is in the movie is a horrific thought and it's affecting bja who's playing the lead as Noah and they called him that because the ship to rally support but they're in a bad situation and I think it's Tommy F who put them there and the Mac proper who had him do it and for some of them to try and figure out how the mutants are made and so forth to find a weakness etc and to do it themselves and there's no real reason to make them one except they think they're fullness and running around talking but it is a protest movie and they have been threatening our son with it for years as these people too and he says is this suitable for you guys you're comfortable in there don't threaten me with it people might get the idea and they're sitting there in the future scratching your head saying we kept saying this dumb s*** to people that's happened to us but we didn't know what to say so just saying it to anybody and you're spraying it all around to everyone and really there's just not the kind of playing there is and everybody's got their idea of what's happening but patience with the gods is always very limited they don't like it not being capitalized you see in sentences so I don't know what to say it is so far beyond it because it's so God damn cheap and ridiculous so he says that you say we're certainly understanding something it did not help our case and it did not and everybody got pissed so they're in Australia and it's not too far from now that this happens the escape and make it to San Francisco is not true it's happening to them off and on in San Francisco so they know or pretty much understand it's probably Tommy f he's overhead with ships and they sort of figured that out and Trump is trying to get on board a little BJ a bit and they really lame the massively lame and the pseudo empire can't do it they're too small going on it's an asinine show but nobody's going to get any advancements there's no reason at all to combine them everybody knows they're just torturing the s*** out of these people who are already tortured and calling them names and there are already on the ground and they're killing each other and droves and it is disgusting it's disgusting and Tommy f is ruining them and he's getting attacked but mildly so that's what we have here and on to tomorrow because it is not something anyone can withstand and our son is stuck with it this morning was so ridiculous I feel like carving them up into little pieces and mailing them all over the world and say go ahead reassemble them and leaving it there it's so gross every post office in the world will be stuck up with idiots looking for the ship information

-we're following the patterns we understand what you're saying and doing we're going after them and we're taking all their stuff and their weaponry and their bases in their areas of any who are behaving this way and obviously they're senile yeah we're doing it to a lot of them right now this the morlock are gearing up for a large scale attack on a pseudo empire tonight the numbers are not as low but they are low I'm telling about and 9% in the general population of Mac morlock so they're going to launch large attacks on them and they're starting to try for ships probably 10% of the ships and they're going to strike Northern New England the upper Midwest and Northern Brazil and other bases including laser bases actually all of them with huge horses this this forces they're sick and tired of them attacking them saying it's their fault but really it's both of them but this is significant that they keep doing this over and over they fail to see the reason to find peace they don't understand the max are huge is not true they want us to handle it and forgieners what we say is that's fine. So her son says to the chimp bja I think that you're distracted in the future when he's in planet of the apes and he says when is the last bill you paid this week and he says I don't think I thought of that at all this is good you're thoroughly distracted I'm sure your stuff's fine and Trump and all the other jackasses running around as primates I'm positive that you're race is safer than hell this is irresponsibility at a level that's mind-boggling no you're not busy doing anything productive if you're running around saying you have the mega computer and nobody falls for that s*** there's no such thing as a talking private either. It's just a horrible mess you're making but they're making it worse I don't know what to do either what can I do with you I'm not Mac I'm not these other people I know what my motives are if you need to all get together and fight the max and then you like on level ground with everybody else and instead you like helping the max a little helping yourself going against the wall them all and it looks really bad so he says Brad can look normal without eating people that's one thing and it is true. So he started to think about this it's stupid but I keep doing it so that's what they're going to say and we can't help them anymore then we should not it's illegal and we're putting laws out there now

-this huge attack will commence it's already happening in the eastern hemisphere the pseudo empire is building up for a counter strike they usually successful these days because these people are unorganized fractured in fighting pissy little b****** and upsetting and people hate them

-nutrition rate is up to 1% an hour a horrific number 90% of it is Mac morlock.

-huge numbers of these people are getting hit all over the world but the pseudo empire is under attack in the eastern hemisphere is probably 1% out of the 9% attacking them the numbers are huge and 0.5% versus 0.5% at the stashes in caches BJ versus Trump and the losses are going to be massive today it's not even ISS movie time yet

-in the Western hemisphere they plan for attack that's even bigger the same 1.5% and true the pseudo empire is oppressing them and not letting them have stuff but they could have gotten the pseudo empire to attack the Max and they still can they refuse to and they don't like people poking around their business and it's not hard to make them curious and these people will simply not do the right thing at all and we can't have it they're coming out of their businesses and hours and we want them out

-distinct really bad of greed of hatred of for themselves they want these ships they want our son and daughter and and Dave and Carol and I want to head up there and it's really something that they're after in the hook is set and they're nuts it's a pipe dream and it's for people who are poor that's what they are

-as it goes and they are having this fight above and it is atrocious additional to the pseudo empire war they are starting trouble with minority moron and all over the world and we said morlock. They're giving them a lot of crap harassing them and they harass them on the bus and they won't leave them alone they are going to have to fend for themselves their attitude is also atrocious times it's worse but most of the time it's not as bad but if they fall a bit it's going to be horrendous

-Garth falls all the time but I guess he comes back which is amazing

-there's a giant number of incidents between them and a war is brewing and soon they're going to knock themselves out and how upsetting and he explained it this morning time to go see you idiots walking around the ball as idiots and do idiotic things and say idiotic things to me terrific that's great that's we're back in kindergarten permanently for real

-there are other things brewing and happening they're going after the Giants with only a small percent now it's 0.2% which is huge and attrition is way up and they don't have the people since they have the target but that's what they're doing I'm mostly in the Eastern hemisphere right now and in the west it will be massive not small Believe it or not it'll be much bigger than the Eastern hemisphere probably twice as big they're losing people all over the place

We're going to publish is this this is huge the evacuation in Florida is up to 4% anticipated today from this morning to the end of the day probably 9:10 p.m. that's huge and that's Macklemore

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues

They're still asking for things and have this plan to be snotty and snooty and get their stuff out and take over the world and rubbing our face that they said we had a chance and stuff I can't stand them they're evil as hell and mean as hell in a way they're meaner than Max because they don't have that humanity level that they do and Max can be reasonable these people don't seem to have that what they're saying is so stupid that we got ready all over the place for everything

Hera