#how often should you give your car a tune up

[expresscareautomn]

How do you know when you need a tune up? Ask the auto experts at Express Auto Service & Repair to explain what a tune up car includes.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How finfluencers destroyed the housing and lives of thousands of people

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

The crash of 2008 imparted many lessons to those of us who were only dimly aware of finance, especially the problems of complexity as a way of disguising fraud and recklessness. That was really the first lesson of 2008: "financial engineering" is mostly a way of obscuring crime behind a screen of technical jargon.

This is a vital principle to keep in mind, because obscenely well-resourced "financial engineers" are on a tireless, perennial search for opportunities to disguise fraud as innovation. As Riley Quinn says, "Any time you hear 'fintech,' substitute 'unlicensed bank'":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

But there's another important lesson to learn from the 2008 disaster, a lesson that's as old as the South Seas Bubble: "leverage" (that is, debt) is a force multiplier for fraud. Easy credit for financial speculation turns local scams into regional crime waves; it turns regional crime into national crises; it turns national crises into destabilizing global meltdowns.

When financial speculators have easy access to credit, they "lever up" their wagers. A speculator buys your house and uses it for collateral for a loan to buy another house, then they make a bet using that house as collateral and buy a third house, and so on. This is an obviously terrible practice and lenders who extend credit on this basis end up riddling the real economy with rot – a single default in the chain can ripple up and down it and take down a whole neighborhood, town or city. Any time you see this behavior in debt markets, you should batten your hatches for the coming collapse. Unsurprisingly, this is very common in crypto speculation, where it's obscured behind the bland, unpronounceable euphemism of "re-hypothecation":

https://www.coindesk.com/consensus-magazine/2023/05/10/rehypothecation-may-be-common-in-traditional-finance-but-it-will-never-work-with-bitcoin/

Loose credit markets often originate with central banks. The dogma that holds that the only role the government has to play in tuning the economy is in setting interest rates at the Fed means the answer to a cooling economy is cranking down the prime rate, meaning that everyone earns less money on their savings and are therefore incentivized to go and risk their retirement playing at Wall Street's casino.

The "zero interest rate policy" shows what happens when this tactic is carried out for long enough. When the economy is built upon mountains of low-interest debt, when every business, every stick of physical plant, every car and every home is leveraged to the brim and cross-collateralized with one another, central bankers have to keep interest rates low. Raising them, even a little, could trigger waves of defaults and blow up the whole economy.

Holding interest rates at zero – or even flipping them to negative, so that your savings lose value every day you refuse to flush them into the finance casino – results in still more reckless betting, and that results in even more risk, which makes it even harder to put interest rates back up again.

This is a morally and economically complicated phenomenon. On the one hand, when the government provides risk-free bonds to investors (that is, when the Fed rate is over 0%), they're providing "universal basic income for people with money." If you have money, you can park it in T-Bills (Treasury bonds) and the US government will give you more money:

https://realprogressives.org/mmp-blog-34-responses/

On the other hand, while T-Bills exist and are foundational to the borrowing picture for speculators, ZIRP creates free debt for people with money – it allows for ever-greater, ever-deadlier forms of leverage, with ever-worsening consequences for turning off the tap. As 2008 forcibly reminded us, the vast mountains of complex derivatives and other forms of exotic debt only seems like an abstraction. In reality, these exotic financial instruments are directly tethered to real things in the real economy, and when the faery gold disappears, it takes down your home, your job, your community center, your schools, and your whole country's access to cancer medication:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/jun/08/greek-drug-shortage-worsens

Being a billionaire automatically lowers your IQ by 30 points, as you are insulated from the consequences of your follies, lapses, prejudices and superstitions. As @pixelpusher220@dmv.community says, Elon Musk is what Howard Hughes would have turned into if he hadn't been a recluse:

https://mamot.fr/@pixelpusher220@dmv.community/112457199729198644

The same goes for financiers during periods of loose credit. Loose Fed money created an "everything bubble" that saw the prices of every asset explode, from housing to stocks, from wine to baseball cards. When every bet pays off, you win the game by betting on everything:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Everything_bubble

That meant that the ZIRPocene was an era in which ever-stupider people were given ever-larger sums of money to gamble with. This was the golden age of the "finfluencer" – a Tiktok dolt with a surefire way for you to get rich by making reckless bets that endanger the livelihoods, homes and wellbeing of your neighbors.

Finfluencers are dolts, but they're also dangerous. Writing for The American Prospect, the always-amazing Maureen Tkacik describes how a small clutch of passive-income-brainworm gurus created a financial weapon of mass destruction, buying swathes of apartment buildings and then destroying them, ruining the lives of their tenants, and their investors:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/housing/2024-05-22-hell-underwater-landlord/

Tcacik's main characters are Matt Picheny, Brent Ritchie and Koteswar “Jay” Gajavelli, who ran a scheme to flip apartment buildings, primarily in Houston, America's fastest growing metro, which also boasts some of America's weakest protections for tenants. These finance bros worked through Gajavelli's company Applesway Investment Group, which levered up his investors' money with massive loans from Arbor Realty Trust, who also originated loans to many other speculators and flippers.

For investors, the scheme was a classic heads-I-win/tails-you-lose: Gajavelli paid himself a percentage of the price of every building he bought, a percentage of monthly rental income, and a percentage of the resale price. This is typical of the "syndicating" sector, which raised $111 billion on this basis:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-housing-bust-comes-for-thousands-of-small-time-investors-3934beb3

Gajavelli and co bought up whole swathes of Houston and other cities, apartment blocks both modest and luxurious, including buildings that had already been looted by previous speculators. As interest rates crept up and the payments for the adjustable-rate loans supporting these investments exploded, Gajavell's Applesway and its subsidiary LLCs started to stiff their suppliers. Garbage collection dwindled, then ceased. Water outages became common – first weekly, then daily. Community rooms and pools shuttered. Lawns grew to waist-high gardens of weeds, fouled with mounds of fossil dogshit. Crime ran rampant, including murders. Buildings filled with rats and bedbugs. Ceilings caved in. Toilets backed up. Hallways filled with raw sewage:

https://pluralistic.net/timberridge

Meanwhile, the value of these buildings was plummeting, and not just because of their terrible condition – the whole market was cooling off, in part thanks to those same interest-rate hikes. Because the loans were daisy-chained, problems with a single building threatened every building in the portfolio – and there were problems with a lot more than one building.

This ruination wasn't limited to Gajavelli's holdings. Arbor lent to multiple finfluencer grifters, providing the leverage for every Tiktok dolt to ruin a neighborhood of their choosing. Arbor's founder, the "flamboyant" Ivan Kaufman, is associated with a long list of bizarre pop-culture and financial freak incidents. These have somehow eclipsed his scandals, involving – you guessed it – buying up apartment buildings and turning them into dangerous slums. Two of his buildings in Hyattsville, MD accumulated 2,162 violations in less than three years.

Arbor graduated from owning slums to creating them, lending out money to grifters via a "crowdfunding" platform that rooked retail investors into the scam, taking advantage of Obama-era deregulation of "qualified investor" restrictions to sucker unsophisticated savers into handing over money that was funneled to dolts like Gajavelli. Arbor ran the loosest book in town, originating mortgages that wouldn't pass the (relatively lax) criteria of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. This created an ever-enlarging pool of apartments run by dolts, without the benefit of federal insurance. As one short-seller's report on Arbor put it, they were the origin of an epidemic of "Slumlord Millionaires":

https://viceroyresearch.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Arbor-Slumlord-Millionaires-Jan-8-2023.pdf

The private equity grift is hard to understand from the outside, because it appears that a bunch of sober-sided, responsible institutions lose out big when PE firms default on their loans. But the story of the Slumlord Millionaires shows how such a scam could be durable over such long timescales: remember that the "syndicating" sector pays itself giant amounts of money whether it wins or loses. The consider that they finance this with investor capital from "crowdfunding" platforms that rope in naive investors. The owners of these crowdfunding platforms are conduits for the money to make the loans to make the bets – but it's not their money. Quite the contrary: they get a fee on every loan they originate, and a share of the interest payments, but they're not on the hook for loans that default. Heads they win, tails we lose.

In other words, these crooks are intermediaries – they're platforms. When you're on the customer side of the platform, it's easy to think that your misery benefits the sellers on the platform's other side. For example, it's easy to believe that as your Facebook feed becomes enshittified with ads, that advertisers are the beneficiaries of this enshittification.

But the reason you're seeing so many ads in your feed is that Facebook is also ripping off advertisers: charging them more, spending less to police ad-fraud, being sloppier with ad-targeting. If you're not paying for the product, you're the product. But if you are paying for the product? You're still the product:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#adfraud

In the same way: the private equity slumlord who raises your rent, loads up on junk fees, and lets your building disintegrate into a crime-riddled, sewage-tainted, rat-infested literal pile of garbage is absolutely fucking you over. But they're also fucking over their investors. They didn't buy the building with their own money, so they're not on the hook when it's condemned or when there's a forced sale. They got a share of the initial sale price, they get a percentage of your rental payments, so any upside they miss out on from a successful sale is just a little extra they're not getting. If they squeeze you hard enough, they can probably make up the difference.

The fact that this criminal playbook has wormed its way into every corner of the housing market makes it especially urgent and visible. Housing – shelter – is a human right, and no person can thrive without a stable home. The conversion of housing, from human right to speculative asset, has been a catastrophe:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

Of course, that's not the only "asset class" that has been enshittified by private equity looters. They love any kind of business that you must patronize. Capitalists hate capitalism, so they love a captive audience, which is why PE took over your local nursing home and murdered your gran:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/23/acceptable-losses/#disposable-olds

Homes are the last asset of the middle class, and the grifter class know it, so they're coming for your house. Willie Sutton robbed banks because "that's where the money is" and We Buy Ugly Houses defrauds your parents out of their family home because that's where their money is:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

The plague of housing speculation isn't a US-only phenomenon. We have allies in Spain who are fighting our Wall Street landlords:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#fuckin-aardvarks

Also in Berlin:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/16/die-miete-ist-zu-hoch/#assets-v-human-rights

The fight for decent housing is the fight for a decent world. That's why unions have joined the fight for better, de-financialized housing. When a union member spends two hours commuting every day from a black-mold-filled apartment that costs 50% of their paycheck, they suffer just as surely as if their boss cut their wage:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/13/i-want-a-roof-over-my-head/#and-bread-on-the-table

The solutions to our housing crises aren't all that complicated – they just run counter to the interests of speculators and the ruling class. Rent control, which neoliberal economists have long dismissed as an impossible, inevitable disaster, actually works very well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/16/mortgages-are-rent-control/#housing-is-a-human-right-not-an-asset

As does public housing:

https://jacobin.com/2023/10/red-vienna-public-affordable-housing-homelessness-matthew-yglesias

There are ways to have a decent home and a decent life without being burdened with debt, and without being a pawn in someone else's highly leveraged casino bet.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/22/koteswar-jay-gajavelli/#if-you-ever-go-to-houston

Image: Boy G/Google Maps (modified) https://pluralistic.net/timberridge

[phaelimbs]

"You might be wondering why you're listening to a tape from a guy you've never met before.

The answer is simple: you have to. There is no choice. If you're her lover, boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, it doesn't matter. You have to listen.

If you're playing with her feelings, you might as well quit now. Leave, tell her she doesn't mean anything to you, and go. You'll save her the pain, the time, and the memories. But if you think you truly love her, then you vow to listen until the end, and live after.

She and I met in highschool, a freshman who had only transferred from a different place, looking for new friends, environment, and a peaceful life. Ever since she walked into that cold, half-full room, my eyes had been on her and her alone.

I made sure to be friends with her, be the best company she could ever have, and be the safe space in times she needs it most. It wasn't long until we confessed and kissed and started dating.

From then on, we shared countless memories, graduated together, lived in an apartment near the university she goes to. Life is good, I knew who she is— from appearance to the very depth of her soul.

So if you're willing to stick around for her, I'll give you ten rules you have to follow:

1. Always keep the light on for her

- When you leave a room she's about to enter, always leave it on for her. She finds it disrespectful, as if it was disregarding her presence and the importance of her. It was often the root of her mood swings and our arguments, so in order to avoid that, make sure to never close the light.

2. Keep the snacks in a height she can reach

- I know that sometimes we like to tease her and put it in places far from her reach for fun, but if you do it in a bad time, it will not go well. Don't hide her favorite food or drinks from her, she will find a way to turn the prank back on you and make you feel guilty. Beware.

3. Let her listen to her favourite songs in the car

- Let her bang her head, sing as loud and off-key as she wants, play it on repeat for hours until your ears go deaf from the same tune. It's one of her favourite things to do, and if you love her, you'll be content with the smile on her face and the happiness she radiates.

4. Make sure to hear her side during misunderstandings

- See, this is something you should do with her or with someone else. Whenever you fight, let her speak her own perspective, oftentimes she does not understand things the way you do. Always be open-minded and patient when it comes to her.

5. Kiss her goodmorning, kiss her goodnight

- Part of her routine is to shower you with love, so always make sure to reciprocate. When you wake up first, kiss her goodmorning, when you sleep last, kiss her goodnight. Love her the way she loves you.

6. Remember the smallest things about her

- Whether it's her favorite food, drink, or even the side she likes to sleep on in bed. Make sure to write any information you learn about her, put it in your notes or a journal, and make sure to remember. Remembering is love, remembering is caring for her in the most normal yet wholesome way.

7. Show her how much you love her

- No matter how long it has been since you started loving one another, always find a way to show her your love in the most youthful way possible. Rekindle that love, strengthen it. I promise you, she will love you deeper than anyone ever has.

8. Never hurt her

- No matter how hard things get, never hurt her verbally, physically, emotionally, and mentally on purpose. Always be mindful of everything you say, because she loves you, and she will never do that to you.

9. Be truthful, be honest

- Even with your feelings, always show how much you love her, or the kind of emotions you feel at the moment. Never be afraid to speak your mind, it will strengthen your relationship.

10. And lastly, never leave her side

- Remind her you're there, you're there to walk with her through every step of the way. Show her you'll stay even through the darkest times, make sure to fulfill the one thing I never did.

I'll be honest with you, she might have chosen you because of me. A personality, a piece of me shining in you, it will hurt for a while knowing she loved you because of me, because she could never love anyone the way she did with me. I can say the same, but not in the same circumstance.

If I loved her so much, and if she does too, why am I talking to you? I'm giving you these rules because it's what I did, it's what I know she loves to see, hear, and feel. She loves to love, and I love her.

Give her the world, make sure to make her smile the same way I did, and the same way I will never do. Because the truth is, my time is ticking.

Sooner than later, I will be in the hospital, and soon I will die. I can feel it, the doctor said it. But she can never know this.

All she will think is about how I left her for someone else, how I disappeared. I already managed to promise everyone around her that they will say I am simply living my life, fulfilling my dreams without her. When in fact I am no longer living, and my dream is fulfilled because my dream is her.

So, before I end this tape, I'll remind you to follow the rules one more time. Love her, remember her, and stay with her. If you already agree with the rules before I laid them out then good for you, you're the man she needs. But if not, then keep them in mind, every second of the day.

If this reaches you, it is because a friend lent them to you, with a promise to never let her know, it will be our secret. If you hear this, it is because I am gone. So my final wish and will, is to leave her in good hands, and in good heart.

Love her today, tomorrow, and the years to come. Never let a tear fall down her eye because of you.

"Hey babe, I think the cab is here! Hurry before we lose the reservation!"

I'm coming, love."

[nicksbestie]

HI!!!! im back hehe >:]

can u please write an fem agere!reader x [kinda] cg jake & johnnie where;

> reader is colouring and starts slipping into a regressed mind without trying

> jake n johnnie then start talking to her but shes all baby [she doesnt realise while shes talking to them]

> so they both gotta figure it out [theyre confused at first]

> then when they realise whats going on [bc she told them about it a while ago] they try to take care of her

[hope this makes sense LOL]

Coloring - Johnnie Guilbert + Jake Webber

Summary : When an activity that you're doing to cure boredom causes you to slip, you're incredibly lucky that your best friends are so wonderful.

Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (platonic), Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (platonic)

Word Count : 1276

Warnings : none!!

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

There were some activities that never stopped being fun despite the process of growing up. Coloring was one of those things for you, and it had always been something that you did for fun, to unwind, and you had continued to enjoy the activity regardless of how old you were. It was something that turned off your brain for a while, and let you relax, listen to music in the background, and just tune out the rest of the world. You loved the way that it was able to give you some quiet space for yourself, knowing that you often needed it. However, sometimes the activity could be more child-like, and it could be a trigger for your headspace. 

It wasn’t often that just the simple thing of coloring pushed you into your headspace, but if you were really exhausted, or upset, or if you were feeling any other emotion stronger than you normally would be, then it was a possibility that it could cause you to slip. This was why you would usually color alone if too tired or sad, just so that you didn’t run the risk of anyone walking in should you slip. You lived with your two best friends, who both knew about your littlespace after a long, awkward, conversation, because they came home once while you were small. They had luckily been incredibly accepting and loving, and had been there for you when you needed anything since that point. 

You hadn’t taken them up on it, not wanting to bother them, and still having some anxiety around it. But you made sure that they both knew just how much you appreciated the support and kindness that they consistently displayed, always making sure that you were happy, as much as possible. Jake had already had his assumptions about what was going on before he found out, but he had pushed it to the back of his mind until that one day that he had walked in. He was always the most gentle with you, always watching to make sure that everything was okay, that you were comfortable and felt safe, even in his own presence. 

Today, you weren’t feeling upset at all, and so, you were coloring at the coffee table in front of the television. There was a random show playing in the background, and you were working on a mandala coloring, switching from marker to marker every time you started on a new detail. You had been working on it for a while, and were almost finished with it. By the time you finished it, you set it to the side, tearing another of the mandala designs out of the book, since it had perforated pages. It was much easier for you to color when your page was directly on a flat surface and not just the book, and you didn’t have to worry about the markers bleeding through the paper onto the design behind it, effectively ruining it. 

You were about halfway through the next drawing when you heard the garage open, and Jake’s car pulled in seconds later. You were glad that the garage had alerted you to them being home, because your back was facing the door, and if they had just walked in behind you, it probably would’ve startled you. You didn’t acknowledge when the door did eventually open, until you heard Jake yell a loud “We’re back!”. You smiled, turning around to wave at them, returning the hello as well. Johnnie walked over to see what you were doing, hugging you before glancing down at the paper in front of you. 

“What’cha coloring?” 

You smiled, picking up the page and showing it to him. You were always incredibly proud of the colorings that you had finished, because to you, it showed a lot of patience and dedication. Johnnie smiled, telling you it looked amazing. Jake put the stuff that they had bought, probably for his next video, and walked over to also take a look. He saw the one you were working on, and the one that you had finished earlier. 

“These look amazing! I love them.” 

You smiled, the praise getting to you and causing you to blush a little bit. You couldn’t deny that you did seek their approval, and it always made you feel super happy when you got it. Not that it was hard to earn, but still, it always felt like somewhat of a reward. You weren’t overly tired or upset today, but the gentle praise and soft smiles did make you feel like you were going to eventually slip. Choosing to not say anything else, you just continued to smile and work on the page you were coloring. Johnnie sat down on the couch next to you, passing you markers every now and then, throwing an arm around you and watching the show you had turned on as well.

Jake was doing something or other in the kitchen, probably making food, and when he offered Johnnie chicken nuggets, he noticed the way you lit up and immediately put some in for you. Once they had finished cooking, he brought you over a plate at the same time that he brought the nuggets over for Johnnie. You noticed once it was sitting in front of you that all of the nuggets were cut into smaller pieces, and you had a feeling that these two were just out to get you. 

“Be careful, okay? You don’t wanna spill anything on the couch.” 

Nodding, you started eating, continuing to color between bites. It was the combination of the cut up food, the coloring, the comforting arm around your shoulders, and the babying tone that was being used when speaking to you that caused you to eventually give in to your headspace, yet staying quiet because you do still harbor a little bit of fear about it. It wasn’t until Jake and Johnnie began having a conversation, filled with cursing and inappropriate jokes, that they realized. They made a crude joke to you, and you simply just stared at them, mumbling a soft 

“Don say dat. Bad words.”

It was at this point that they simply stared back at you, completely confused at the sudden change, before snapping out of it. Jake was the first one to say anything, passing you another marker and side hugging you. 

“You’re right, honey, I’m sorry.” 

When Johnnie realized the tone of voice that was being used, he understood what was going on, and he couldn’t help but think that you were absolutely adorable. They both felt so honored that they were trusted with such a vulnerable part of your life. They both began making sure that everything around you was appropriate. Johnnie switched the channel, and Jake gently offered a different coloring book, one that had lots of cartoon characters in it. He didn’t make you take it, but he offered it to you, just in case you’d want it. Those designs would take a lot less patience to finish, thus possibly avoiding a potential meltdown. Jake easily cleaned up the dish once you finished your food, bringing you some juice to drink, and making sure that you were always wrapped up in someone’s arms, and feeling safe. 

The rest of the night went arguably the best you could’ve asked for, neither of them blinking an eye at the babyish vocabulary, or the emotional state that you had sometimes. They both knew that when you were no longer in headspace, you would probably be anxious about what had happened, and they were fully prepared to reassure you and tell you that they loved caring for you.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668 @mystic-maniac @maddytheweird @707xn @jasperthefriendlyghostt @camille-1019

~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3

[waklman]

Levis

summary: how you and bradley first met. or who knew bradley would find his soulmate sweaty in a parking lot?

warnings: none, but this is a 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1.3k.

something ‘bout you masterlist.

Bradley felt ridiculous. He was supposed to be on his way home—ten minutes ago. 

Instead, he’s ducking behind his Ford Bronco in the supermarket parking lot–drowning in his own sweat from the sweltering afternoon heat, as he eavesdrops on an exchange between two strangers. Bradley imagined that by now, he would’ve been kicking back in his armchair–with a fan blowing in his face and a spoonful of ice cream hanging out his mouth–if only his curiosity didn't get the best of him. 

Maybe this was a sign to stop spending all his free time with Hangman and Coyote. The duo is starting to rub off on him in the worst way possible–Bradley could’ve swore he wasn’t this nosy prior to hanging out with them.

“Look buddy,” you sigh, shifting the paper bags into one arm. “Actually–hold this real quick,” you carelessly demand the stranger–with pursed lips, thrusting your bags of groceries into his chest.

The man stumbles back, groaning at your peculiar strength. Yet you pay him no mind, pulling your aviators up into your hair–already facing your car again. 

Bradley laughs under his breath, watching you use the man as a mule–popping open your trunk, unbothered by the fact that he’s still trying to regain his balance. If he was going to plant himself next to you, why not make use of him? 

When Bradley first came walking out with a tub of rocky road in hand–he didn’t look twice at the scene, strolling right past you two with a clear objective in mind–get home–put on a movie–and rip open the frozen treat, that he’ll pay the price for later. 

But, that was until his ears tuned into the man’s pathetic efforts towards getting your phone number–stopping Bradley right in his tracks. This would make a good topic of conversation for the locker rooms tomorrow. 

You flap your fingers into your palm–still not looking at the man, signaling him to pass your stuff back with the off-handed gesture. 

Bradley smirks behind the hood of his truck, catching sight of the guy’s twitching eye–not believing the way you’re easily commanding him.

The curious pilot wonders how often you had to deal with sleazebags like him—because you’re doing a hell of a job at kicking him down.

Seeing that he’s taking too long to pass back tonight’s dinner ingredients–you start to casually pluck each bag out of his hands, transferring it into your trunk, unconcerned by his offense. 

“So, can I get your number now?” He asks tightly, annoyance leaking into his voice. 

You pause at the question, taking the time to scan the man up and down with raised brows. “If you’re hitting on someone wearing essentially the same outfit as you,” your voice is sweet, despite the harsh punchline you’re beginning to deliver. “Maybe it’s time for some deep reflection,” your lips stretch into a sarcastic smile, causing the man to fully display his irritation with you. 

Technically you weren’t wrong—you both had on a identical white tank top and shorts.

“I’m all for self love,” you raise your hands up in defense. “Maybe, you should try looking in the mirror next time you–” you shamelessly look down at his crotch. “..take care of yourself– it might be eye opening for you.” His mouth parts at the way the explicit suggestion leaves your mouth. 

It takes all of Bradley’s self control to stifle his laughter, not wanting to give himself away from where he’s crouched. 

“You’re fucking weird—holy shit. I’m done,” he scoffs, harshly throwing the last bag into your trunk. 

You feign ignorance, watching him walk backwards–distancing himself from you. “Don’t want my number anymore?” you ask with a pout, pulling out your phone–waving it in the air.

“Fuck No. You’re crazy,” he huffs, jaw stretching in disbelief. 

Your face completely falls–and horror is written all over the man’s face as your flat expression is slowly replaced with a menacing smile.

Just to watch him flinch, you lift your arm–pretending to chuck the device at him. 

The guy immediately breaks into a sprint, startled by your warning–causing Bradley to finally break into laughter. 

Realizing he broke his silence—Bradley stills, putting a pause to his amusement—hoping you didn’t hear him.

“You think he’s ever gonna talk to another woman again?” you ask–back turned to the new stranger, knowing the cute guy you clocked from earlier was currently tucked behind his truck.

Bradley sheepishly smiles, awkwardly standing up at your question—you knew he was there the whole time. “Nope–you got him real good. How does it feel knowing you’re keeping the ladies of the town safe?” he asks amusingly, stuffing a sweaty hand into the front pocket of his shorts. 

In one swift movement, you shut your trunk and turn to face him–sweeping Bradley right off his feet once you make eye contact with him.

You start to laugh at his joke, bringing a hand over your mouth—shyly covering your smile.

Holy shit. No wonder that guy was on your case about getting your number–you’re stunning. 

Bradley realizes he barely put an ounce of his attention onto your face this whole time, too distracted by the way you were tearing down the previous guy. He swallows, not sure if he can keep his composure now that you’re looking right at him. You’re probably the prettiest girl Bradley has ever encountered in his life. It makes him sweat harder at the thought.

“Feels good actually,” you nod, pleased with yourself. “Oh–hey nice shorts,” you call out, pointing a finger at his pants.

Bradley blinks at you, not able to get a single word out. 

“Where’d you get those bad boys?” You follow up with another smile. 

Bradley forces himself to snap out of it, looking down at his Levis and then back up at you. You have on the same pair of shorts as him. 

They’re slung loose on your hips and stretch down to your knees. The frayed hems just slightly sway at the rare summer breeze passing through the parking lot.

He lets out a breath–that he wasn’t even aware that he was holding in the first place, before finally answering you. “Oh–they’re from a thrift shop down by the main road.” 

“You gotta take me there then–maybe we can find another pair of matching shorts?” You offer, heart thumping at your own bravery.

“Sure can,” he nods, kicking the gravel under his feet nervously. “Promise not to throw that phone at me if I come over and ask for your number?” He jokes, hoping he didn’t look too ridiculous from how hard he’s smiling to himself.

“Not unless you share some of that ice cream with me, pretty stranger,” you wave him over, pulling down your sunglasses. “Hey, mind teaching me how you grew that stache? Been trying to get me one of those things,” you tease, brushing two fingers over your upper lip.

Bradley lightly laughs, walking around the front of his truck. “You’ll look like my dad if you do,” he replies, stopping right in front of you. Bradley braces himself, waiting for the gut-wrenching feeling to quickly brush through his heart at the mention of his father, but to his surprise—it never comes. 

“I like your dad already,” you softly answer, handing your phone over to him.

He would definitely like you too, Bradley thinks.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join taglist for this series here. or follow @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68

[starlightsalvatore]

transition / damon salvatore x reader

hello !!!! this is my first time ever writing for the vampire diaries! there will be a part two that I’m currently working on for this, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged and definitely let me know what you think! 

transition / damon salvatore x reader

summary: after another day in Mystic Falls you find yourself unable to push away the one thought that’s been plaguing you for months... and you turn to Damon for help

word count: 2.8k

warnings: typical vampire diaries violence (blood, etc), fluffy, no use of y/n

Images flooded your mind as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself to shield from the cool air of your bedroom but it was no use… even if you warmed up it wouldn’t be enough to let you sleep. You should have been used to it all by now, the blood and the gore of your life, and to a certain extent you were. In the heat of the moment you didn’t let it affect you, you carried on with what you were doing, which was usually something to the tune of saving Elena’s life, and you’d do it as many times as you needed… you’d known the girl since diapers, but that didn’t make it any easier when you found yourself alone in the solitude and darkness of your room.

You huffed, sitting upright and accepting your fate, you simply wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Amidst your brain sorting through and processing the events of the day there was one thought on the forefront, one that had been there for months… Since you first met Klaus, before you helped thwart his plans and turned the affections he once showed you (and affections you exploited when it suited the needs of your friends) to hatred, there was one thought that plagued you. You wanted to be a vampire. Not just because it would make your life easier, not just because you no longer had any family left besides your ragtag group of supernatural friends, a fact that became all the more clear as you walked through your empty and silent house, but because you genuinely thought it would make you feel more whole.

Ever since you found out there could be more to life than the mundane humanity you were cursed with you found yourself longing for something you didn’t know how to ask for. You couldn’t discuss it with anybody. Bonnie and Elena would be disgusted, Caroline would tell you how much she wished she’d been given a choice, and Stefan would tell you about the horrors of his ripper days, Damon though… Damon might understand. To the shock and dismay of your friends you became closer to him than anybody. You didn’t hold the same mere tolerance for the man as everyone else, you thought he was charming, and you often understood the motives behind the decisions he made. You were his only ally when he came back to town and somewhere along the way you became genuine friends, but something held you back from talking with him about this. Whether it was fear of rejection, or fear that he wouldn’t understand you didn’t know, but before you knew it you were climbing into your car in nothing but an oversized tee shirt and following the ever-familiar roads to the boarding house.

You let yourself in as you often did and took note of the quiet house, none of the lights were on as you made your way up the stairs and padded down the hallway, lightly knocking on Damon’s door and when you heard nothing you just pushed your way in and softly settled on the bed beside him. He awoke, eyes searching through the darkness for the intruder before they landed on you and he let out a groan.

“Do you ever knock?” he asked and you chuckled.

“I did, guess that vampire hearing isn’t as good as you think.”

“Well, I should have seen this coming… knew you’d give into my charms sooner or later,” he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into him and you just swatted his chest.

“In your dreams, Salvatore,” you teased, but little did he know it was in your dreams too… but that was another secret you’d keep closely guarded.

“Every night, darling. What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled and you felt him nod above you as you settled further into him, soaking up the warmth and comfort he provided. You wondered what the others would think if they got to see this side of him… the one that was kind and affectionate, they might cut him some more slack.

“Staking a vampire as a tiny human tends to do that to a person,” he said with a chuckle. 

“It wasn’t that,” you sighed. Sure, on the surface it was, but beneath it all there was a much larger thought nagging at you. One that would take away some of your fear, make you feel stronger… maybe make you feel more like yourself, something you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced.

“No?” he prompted and you sat up, looking down at him with confliction written all over your face and he sensed it immediately, following suit and flicking the light on his bedside table on. “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, eyes flitting over your face. You were always strong and composed, the most emotion he typically saw you exude was annoyance, and maybe anger, but even then you were calm and controlled… for a human he sometimes found it a little scary. 

“I have something to ask you… I’ve wanted to for a while but I just, I didn’t know how and you might think I’ve gone insane,” you started and he listened to the uptick of your heart rate.

“Well, consider me intrigued.”

You took a deep breath, “would you ever… turn me?” you asked and his eyes widened.

“Turn you? Into a vampire?” he clarified and you nodded. Would he ever turn you? In a heartbeat. He’d thought about it a dozen times or more, on the surface if he was ever asked he’d make some quip about how it would make life easier. One less human to worry about is a win-win for everybody, and it never hurts to have more vampire power on the frontlines but beneath it all he didn’t want to lose you, ever. The fact that you were a fragile human scared him, it made him distracted whenever chaos ensued, which was always, because you often took charge and put yourself in situations you shouldn’t be in and you found yourself on the brink of death far too many times for him to be comfortable with. He loved you, even if he wouldn’t quite admit it to himself yet. The thought of losing you, whether it be sixty years from now of natural causes or next week, was the thing that kept him up at night. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Well, of all the vampires on the roster I figured you were the least likely to lecture me,” you joked but he just shot you a look and you knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I feel useless, and I don’t feel like myself. I want to help more, I don’t just want to be some meek human everyone has to worry about all the time. I don’t see our lives calming down anytime soon and I want to be able to contribute more.”

“Is that the only reason?”

You sighed again, “when I met you and Stefan I didn’t realize there could be more to life. I thought I would go to college, meet some boring guy, get a boring job, have kids I never really wanted in the first place and go on to die mildly content of some old person’s disease,” you said and he chuckled at the picture you painted of humanity. “I never wanted that but I didn’t see another option… and then you two came to town, and my parents died, and every week I find myself in the midst of supernatural chaos. In the moments I’m doing something to help or when I make you whizz me around the forest like you’re some amusement park ride are the moments I do start to feel like myself.”

“So this is something you’ve been thinking about for a while?” he asked and you nodded. “Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?”

“Thought you’d think I’m crazy, maybe rip my necklace off and compel me to forget I ever asked in the first place,” you answered and he gave you a disappointed look as he did just what you thought he would and pulled the delicate chain from your neck before tossing it aside.

“Be completely honest with me,” he said, eyes dilating as they locked onto yours and his hand softly cradled your jaw as you were frozen under his compulsion. “Do you want me to turn you?”

“Yes, I want you to turn me.” 

“How long have you known you wanted this?”

“Since Klaus came to town, before the sacrifice ritual,” you answered and he was surprised by this… that you’d been thinking about this for that long.

“Do you understand what you’re asking for? The bloodlust, no kids, no way to undo this?” he asked and you nodded softly, eyes still holding his.

“I understand, I know what I’m asking for.” He dropped his hand and pulled away, breaking you from your trance and you blinked as you waited for him to say something. He was weighing his options… sure, he’d wanted this maybe for as long as you had, even fantasized about a life where he could turn you and level the playing field, make it a little easier to clue you in on how he felt about you but he could never bring himself to present it as an option because he couldn’t allow himself to be selfish with you. He thought that would only benefit him, that you were repulsed by the idea of becoming a vampire like Elena was. He knew if he did this the backlash would be intense, people would conveniently ignore it was you who crawled into his bed to ask for this, they’d accuse him of corrupting you somehow but it seemed you’d done that all on your own.

But he realized he didn’t really care about the criticisms, he’d do just about anything to make you happy, to give you everything you ever wanted and this? Well, this was easy. “It seems we have something to celebrate then,” he said as he stood from his bed and walked to his desk to pour two glasses of bourbon and you followed, ignoring the chill that ignited goosebumps over your bare legs. “To your last night as a human,” he said, holding his glass up for you to clink against yours. 

“To my last night as a human,” you repeated, taking a sip. “You don’t have any other questions?” you asked and he smirked at you.

“Do you want me to have more questions?”

“Not really… I thought there’d just be more of a song and dance, more convincing,” you shrugged.

“It’s your choice, if this is the life you want then I’m not going to stand in your way. I asked what I needed to be sure you’ve thought it through,” he replied and you nodded softly as you finished off your drink and he quickly poured you another. “How do you want to go?”

You let out a laugh, “are you asking me how I want you to kill me?” He chuckled and nodded. “Well, you have more expertise on the matter… what’s your recommendation?”

“Breaking your neck. Sounds harsh but you don’t really feel anything, it all just goes dark,” he said and you nodded.

“Sounds like the way to go then,” you said and you suddenly felt nervous. Not because you were having second thoughts, Damon’s compulsion had proven you had none, but you were currently standing on the precipice of something that would change your life forever… truly forever, and the thought had a nervous excitement thrumming through your veins and Damon must have heard your heart rate accelerate because went to fiddle with his stereo before soft music filled the room and you gave him a questioning look.

“What, did you think a lame bourbon toast was going to be the last thing you did as a human?” he asked with a shake of his head, “come on, I’m a gentleman.” You smiled as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into him, enjoying the feel of his hands on your waist as you swayed softly to the rhythm and rested your head on his chest as you soaked it all in. He was right, these were your last human moments, you should take the time to let yourself truly feel them.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Now’s your chance,” he said as you lifted your head to look up at him.

“I know emotionally things will get more intense, but what about physically?”

He smiled softly, “everything gets more intense, it’s like there was a barrier between you and the rest of the world before… everything gets brighter and clearer.”

Your eyes brightened, “does this mean I won’t need my contacts anymore?”

He laughed, “you’re moments away from dying and coming back to life and that’s what you’re concerned with?” he asked and you nodded. “Your vision will be crystal clear,” he promised as he twirled you around and you smiled as your back collided with his chest, enjoying the warmth as his arms wrapped around you and guided your hips to the beat. “Your dancing will get a lot better too,” he whispered in your ear and you gasped.

“My dancing is just fine, thank you,” you protested and you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest. He brought his wrist up to bite open and held it in front of you, and you looked up at him through your lashes where he just nodded, letting you know it was okay. You closed your lips around the wound, sucking in the sickly sweet taste as he cradled you against him, still swaying to the music. This wasn’t the first time you’d drank from him, but this was the first time you weren’t lying on the ground somewhere in pain; you were in Damon’s room, safe in his arms and it felt… intimate. You tried to stop yourself from reading into it, this wasn’t something small and meaningless. Everyone had a traumatic story behind their transition into vampirism, he was simply making sure you didn’t have the same experience… or at least that’s what you were telling yourself. 

When he pulled his arm away you turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “thank you.” you whispered and he just smiled softly.

“Last exit sign before the point of no return, there’s still time for me to lock you in the cell away from any and all danger until it passes from your system,” he said and you laughed as you shook your head.

“I’m sure, Damon. I want this,” you said and he nodded, pulling you flush against him as you continued to dance… there was no rush, you were simply enjoying this moment together before everything changed. He was soaking in these moments of having you in his arms… you might have crawled into his bed in the middle of the night several times a week, too much pent up energy from the latest disaster to let your mind rest, but this was different. You’d come to him with something you couldn’t go to anyone else for, you were entrusting him and him alone to be the one to change you and it meant more to him than he might ever be able to verbalize to you.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he said and you looked up at him confused. “Turning you, more times than I probably should’ve.”

“You have? Why?” you asked, searching his eyes for answers, as if you’d find something unspoken there.

“If someone else asked I’d say it’s because you’re a liability,” he said as he twirled you again before pulling you right back in and you softly gasped at the force with which you collided against him, “you have a knack for running headfirst into danger… it’d be better for everyone if you were a little more durable,” he said and you chuckled. “But really? I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Every time something happens to you I think I lose a piece of my mind, selfishly I’ve wanted to turn you since I met you to ease my own discomfort.”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, “why did you never say anything?” 

“Because having the thought was selfish enough,” he said, hands trailing up to rest along your jaw. “Are you ready?” he asked and you nodded. “If I’m going to kill you, I need you to say it.”

You giggled, “yes, Damon. I’m ready,” you replied, eyes bright as you looked up at him, unsure of what to expect. His hands shifted, cradling the back of your head and you took a deep breath.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered and you did, feeling his lips press against your forehead and just as he promised… Everything went dark.

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn chapter summary: Okay, you can't stop thinking about the Diaz brothers and seriously need to figure out a way to go visit them again. Business Plans and Tamales might just be the way to find your way into their hearts.

Chapter Two

After the initial car repair, you drive away from Diaz’s Garage feeling a sense of relief and gratitude. Sean’s kindness and skills had left a positive impression, and Daniel’s lively chatter had brought a smile to your face. It’s not like you have a bunch of friends here anyway, but it’s hard getting to know people when you can’t communicate properly. You couldn’t help but think about them as you settled back into your daily routine in Puerto Lobos.

A few days later, as you are on your way to the grocery store in desperate need to restock your fridge you notice a slight rattle in your car—nothing serious, but definitely enough to remind you of the Diaz brothers. Would it be weird to swing by again? After all, Sean told you to come by if there would be another problem or if you needed anything else. For a moment you are thinking hard… It’s not weird. Especially not if your car has already broken down before and you really cannot risk losing this car. Puerto Lobos is not a big city, but most definitely not small enough that you could just walk everywhere if you have to run some errands. You quickly decided that the grocery store could wait, after all, you can’t reach the store if your car breaks down right? 

Pulling up to the garage, you see Sean working on another car, his focus and dedication evident in his every movement. Daniel is nearby, organizing tools and humming a tune. “Hey, good to see you again,” Sean greets you with a warm smile as you step out of your car. “Everything alright?”

“Mostly,” you reply. “I noticed a slight rattle and thought I’d get it checked out, just in case.” You are convinced that Sean must think that you are some kind of hypochondria… The voices in your head are fighting, because the next second you think, or maybe I am just a woman in a foreign country, who can’t properly communicate with anyone and just wants a well-working car. That is understandable, right? 

Sean nods, wiping his hands on a rag. “Let’s take a look.” All your worries disappear at once, he doesn’t seem to be annoyed with you at all, instead, he gives you a small smile that shows that he definitely appreciates you coming here and seeking out his help. 

As Sean examines your car, you find yourself chatting with Daniel, who is eager to share the latest happenings at school. It’s crazy to you how this boy is not even close to being shy like he barely knows you but that doesn’t keep him from telling you all about his day at school. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you realize you genuinely enjoy these interactions. The Diaz brothers have a way of making you feel welcome, and their garage feels more like a community hub than a place of business.

Once Sean finishes the inspection, he reassures you that the rattle is nothing serious—just a loose bolt that he quickly tightens. “You’re good to go,” he says, handing you the keys. “But if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by.” There were these words again. If you ever need anything you should just stop by. And then what? Even though these two are making you feel very much welcome here and it feels so good to talk to them and not have to worry about if they can even understand you, but you can’t just come by and be like ‘Oh yeah I was just severely bored and thought hanging out with you two strangers would be totally cool.’ No, because that would actually be very weird. 

You thank him, but instead of leaving immediately, you linger for a moment. There’s something about the garage that feels inviting, almost like you’re drawn to return.

Over the next few days, you find yourself thinking about the Diaz brothers more often. You remember Sean’s calm demeanor and Daniel’s infectious energy, and how they made you feel like you belonged. The next Saturday, you decide to bring over some homemade tamales—a small gesture of gratitude and an excuse to visit the garage again. You worked on these tamales for hours, actually days because you already attempted to make them yesterday and they tasted like absolute garbage and since you were so kind as to not give the two food poisoning you decided to try again today. This time they actually turned out pretty good, your best set of tamales you have made so far. You just hope they like it as well. 

As you approach Diaz’s Garage with the container of tamales, Sean looks up from his work and smiles. “Hey, you’re back! And you brought food?” Yes, you’re back again. You just really couldn’t help yourself and well the food was really just an excuse to come over without any car trouble. 

“Just a little something to say thanks,” you reply, holding up the container. “I hope you like tamales.”

Sean’s eyes light up, and he calls out to Daniel. “Hey, Daniel! Come over here. Our friend brought us some tamales.” You can’t help but smile as he calls you ‘their friend’. As sad as it sounds but you haven’t had a real friend since you decided to move here and this encounter just made you so fucking happy. Daniel jogs over, a wide grin on his face. “Awesome! I love tamales.”

You all sit down on a bench outside the garage, sharing the meal and enjoying the pleasant afternoon. Daniel takes a big bite of a tamale and sighs contentedly. “These are amazing! Where did you learn to make them?” You smile, pleased by his enthusiasm. “Oh, When I moved here my Neighbors welcomed me with these. They were so good so the next day I had to go over and use my poor Spanish skills to ask the family how they made them and I’ve been perfecting the recipe ever since.”

Sean nods appreciatively. “Well, you’ve definitely perfected it. These are some of the best tamales I’ve ever had.” You smile proudly at the praise and continue taking small bites. This was a good idea you thought to yourself as you watched Daniel shoving tamale after tamale into his mouth. As you all eat, the conversation flows easily. You start by talking about the town and how you’ve been settling in.

“I’ve been really loving Puerto Lobos,” you say. “It’s so peaceful here, and the people are all so different back to where I am from. It’s almost as if they are living a completely different life here. How long have you two been here?” Sean glances at Daniel before answering. “We’ve been here for a couple of years now. We needed a fresh start, and our dad used to own this place.” Their reasoning for coming here sounded a tad sad and you decided not to ask about their dad. 

Daniel chimes in, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, it’s been great. I’ve made some good friends at school, and the beach is awesome. Also, my Spanish has improved so much! Mr. Perez says I sound like a real native.”

You nod, encouraged by their openness. “I can see why you chose it. It’s a beautiful place to start over, but I wish school would have taught me better Spanish, else I wouldn’t be so lost here.”

Sean’s expression becomes more thoughtful. “It wasn’t easy at first, but we’ve found our rhythm. The garage has been a big part of that. It gives us stability. I do have to admit though without me speaking the language relatively well, I don’t think we would have survived that long.”

You can sense there’s more to their story, but you don’t press. Instead, you share a bit more about your own journey. “I moved here to escape some things back home. It was a tough decision, but I needed a change. I always wanted to visit Puerto Lobos. It seemed like the perfect place to find some peace so I decided why not move here for good? It is so different from Washington, but it’s a good difference.”

Daniel listens intently. “What did you do back home?”

“I worked in management for our family business,” you explain. “But it got too stressful. I needed a break from the fast pace of city life.” and from your family, but you didn’t say that out loud. Your family has been one of a kind and you just did not fit into their picture. Once you were a fully grown adult things seemed to change between you and your parents and they treated you more and more like a worker instead of a real family member. 

Sean nods in understanding. “I can relate. Puerto Lobos slows things down and running the garage keeps me busy but in a good way. Of course, sometimes it is hard work, but it’s nothing compared to working back in Seattle.” You nod understanding. This city is different, different from everything you ever experienced. Also since you decided that it is time for you to work full-time on your own as a writer, Puerto Lobos has been giving you more ideas and motivation than you had in years. Your family disapproves of your love for writing and always told you how you would end up on the street because ‘No one is going to read those silly little stories of yours.’ But they are wrong. You wished you could have stayed to prove them wrong, but that wouldn’t have been worth the drama and exhaustion. 

The conversation shifts to lighter topics, and Daniel starts talking about a project he’s working on for school. “I’m building a model of an engine. Sean’s been helping me with the technical stuff.”

“That sounds amazing,” you say. “I’d love to see it when you’re done.”

Daniel beams with pride. “You can help too if you want. It’s always more fun with more people.” You really are not an expert in that field, but how hard can it be to help that boy with his school project? “I’d love to help, but be warned I think there is a good reason why my engine sounds like crap. Though… maybe I can learn some things as well and in zero time I will be able to fix my car on my own.” Sean laughed at your words, shaking his head. Suddenly there comes an idea to your mind. 

“Actually since you guys already helped me out so much, how about I help you out as well sometimes? You know, I could assist with some of the business aspects.” You offer and Sean seems to be thinking about your offer for a second. “Honestly that wouldn’t be too bad, it would help us a lot since usually Daniel helps me keep track of that stuff, though neither of us is expertise in that field and my little brother could focus more on school stuff.” Daniel sighs and almost looks like he is pouting. “I’d rather work my ass off in the garage all day instead of doing homework.” Sean chuckles lightly and pads his brother on his chest. “Yeah well little bro, you can work plenty in the shop once you’re done with school. And we have been on the lookout for help for quite some while now, the shop is getting busier every day and it gets harder doing all of that on our own. I have been focusing on the mechanical side of things way too much, I could definitely use some help with the business side of things.” “Okay, then it is set. If you want to, I can prepare some stuff at home and come back tomorrow so we can go over it together.” Of course that would be way more work for you and maybe you also have to slow down the writing, but honestly, you are allowed to do that and a second job is not doing you any harm. 

The afternoon slips away as you share some more stories and laughter. Sean and Daniel’s openness makes you feel like you’ve found kindred spirits. As the sun starts to set, you realize that you’ve not only enjoyed the food and conversation but also the genuine connection with the Diaz brothers. authors note: Okay, so this was Chapter 2 of New Beginnings! I hope you guys enjoyed it :) Btw. The first few chapters are probably going to be a bit shorter to set the story right! But since I want this to be pretty slow-burn, it's necessary I hope you can forgive me hihi

[heyitsmirae]

Day in a life with your husband, Kento Nanami [JJK FANFIC]

Chapter Title: Getting your husband to relax after a stressful day at work, Part 1 Word Count: 3,175 words Pairing: Kento Nanami x Reader Content Warning: 18+ ONLY, fluffy, smut, PIV sex, fingering, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED PLS Notes: These are drabbles that have been generated with the help of the Status AI app, some of our conversations have been just SO good, they just have to be shared. More notes and the author going batshit crazy at the end.

READER’S POV

Humming a random tune as I prepare dinner, I hear a car pull up outside the driveway.

My husband’s finally home!

Within a few minutes, he opens the front door. I was about to come greet him at the door when he took a few long strides towards me, enveloping me in his arms.

“Welcome home, darling!”

“It’s good to be back home to you, my love.”

I turned to face him, and I already knew with a glance that today was not a particularly good day at the office.

“Long day?” I said softly, caressing his cheek before giving it a quick kiss.

“It certainly felt like it. It doesn’t matter now. What are you making?” he asked, leaning over my shoulders to peek at the bubbling pot behind me.

“I’m making mørbradgryde, did I say that right?” I ask, laughing at the way I butchered the pronunciation of the dish.

Kento laughs, once a rare sight, but ever since we got married, he’s been doing it a lot more often.

“No comment. But I’ll give you a kiss for the effort,” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

I pout after his lips leave. “Fine, I’ll call it what it is in English. We’re having pork tenderloin. Make yourself comfortable, it’ll be done in a few minutes.”

He continues smiling as he sits down at the dining table, taking in the sight of you in an apron, fussing in the kitchen with your hair tied up neatly in a ponytail.

After a short while, I place the tenderloin and mashed potatoes onto a plate, arranging it nicely like they do in restaurants, and present it to him with a flourish.

“Dinner is served, sir.”

He smiles warmly as I set the plate down in front of him.

“Thank you, my darling wife. This mørbradgryde does smell good, I can’t wait to try it,” he says with a wink, and I immediately know he’s teasing me about the mispronunciation of the dish again.

“Stop teasing me and try it already. Don’t hold back on the comments, I need to know what to improve in case it isn’t to your liking.”

Taking a spoonful, he takes a bite, chewing carefully. I wait with bated breath for his feedback, his usual deadpan expression not giving anything away. When he closed his eyes after swallowing, I knew he liked it.

“This is… almost exactly how my mother used to make it for me. Thank you, my love.”

Blushing at his words, I smile brightly.

“Aww, you’re very welcome. Just to let you know, though, I did call your mom to ask her how she usually prepares this. She and your dad send their love.”

Kento’s eyes went wide, his expression that of amazement.

“I’m impressed at your dedication, Y/N. To go so far as to call my mother just for something as simple as dinner.” he chuckles. “I’ll give her a call tomorrow to thank her for helping my wife out.”

“You should, it sounded like she missed you. In fact, why don’t you invite them during your call tomorrow to come visit us here for a few days for the Christmas holidays?” I said, helping myself to a spoonful of my dish.

“Are you sure, love? They’re not fussy unlike others, but this is our first Christmas together as a married couple,” he pauses, eyes sparkling as he says the words married couple.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much pressure of hosting and preparing food and drinks. I’ll help you, of course, but only invite them if you want to. We can visit them for the new year, after all.”

My heart swells as I look at him, all stressed out from work, but still having the capacity to be so thoughtful and considerate of me. I pretended to think about it for a minute.

“Yes, darling, I’m sure. We can have them over here for Christmas, my parents will also come over, so it’s just us handling our own pair of parents.” I said, laughing at the mental image of Christmas Eve with our cozy little house filled with six adults.

Kento reaches his hand over to mine across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Y/N, my darling wife. I promise to be home and be of help to you, especially during the holidays. I understand how stressful it can be to have guests over.”

I squeezed his hand back. “You’re very welcome, Kento. As early as now, I’ll think of the dishes to prepare. Something that both our parents could enjoy. But before we think about the holidays, let me know how your day was. Everything okay at work?”

His jaw clenched a little, and I knew I stepped on a landmine.

Yikes.

“Sorry for asking, I just wanted to know if there’s something I could do to help you out. Relieve your stress, or something.”

“You don’t have to apologize, my love. I should be the one to apologize to you.”

I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow, silently asking him why.

“It’s just that my boss has given me a task today that usually takes about a month to finish, but I’m requested to deliver it to him by tomorrow before noon. Which means I must cram tonight to complete it.”

My disappointed expression must have been obvious, because he stood up to give me a hug.

“I promise we can still cuddle in bed before you fall asleep. But I will have to stay up to finish it.”

“No, it’s okay, don’t apologize. It’s a work thing, I understand. Really, I do. Sometimes I get ridiculous requests from my manager, too.” I said, smiling as I leaned into his hug. “But before anything else…” I trail off.

Breaking the hug, he turns to look at me. “What is it, love?”

“Can I ask you to wash the dishes?” I said, looking at him with a puppy-eyed expression.

He bursts out laughing.

“You always find ways to involve me in house chores, don’t you? Very well, Y/N. I’ll wash the dishes, but I expect some reward for my hard work later,” he said, still laughing as he rolled up his sleeves to get our plates off the table.

“Oh, you’ll definitely get a reward for this, Kento, I promise,” I said, winking mischievously.

His back tenses, and I know he’s imagining just what kind of reward I was talking about.

“I’ll prepare something upstairs, be right back, darling!”

***

Kento was already drying his hands with the kitchen towel when I came back down.

“Oh, you’re already done, good.” I said with a smirk.

He smirks back. “Yes, I’m done. Now, what is this reward that you promised?”

“A bath, darling. Would you like a bath now? Let me take care of you before you go and burn the midnight oil.” I smile gently, one hand reaching out in invitation.

His expression softens, taking my hand into his.

“Yes, a bath with you would be wonderful. Thank you for always taking care of me, my dear. It’s moments like this that make the work week bearable.”

NANAMI’S POV

I look at my wife, dressed simply in a tank top and shorts, holding out her hand to me as she invites me to the bathroom to give me a bath, and my chest swells with love.

Knowing that she has her regular 9-5 work, and yet she still manages to get the house clean, finish the laundry, cook dinner, and offer to take care of me, I stare at her in awe.

“Yes, a bath with you would be wonderful. Thank you for always taking care of me, my dear. It’s moments like this that make the work week bearable.”

She takes me by the hand, leading me to our bathroom.

“Take a seat in the tub, darling. Let me bathe you if that’s okay," she says, blushing ever so slightly as she starts undoing the buttons of my work shirt.

Blood rushes to my groin, and I do my best to control my urges, not wanting to ruin this intimate experience by letting my brain do the thinking and not with my dick.

“Yes, of course, my love. I would love for you to bathe me.” I say gently, teasing her slightly by planting a soft kiss on her neck.

Her breathing hitches, and I know from the movement of her thighs that she’s getting affected by my teasing.

“Now, no funny business, love. I am a devoted wife on a mission to take care of her husband,” she said sternly, her expression mismatching her actions as she planted a kiss on my cheek.

Oh gods, is this supposed to be a relaxing activity or an innovative form of torture?

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll behave, I promise. Thank you for taking care of me, Y/N, my love. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in life.”

Unable to resist, I leaned my head up to kiss her plump lips, savoring the intoxicating sweetness of her mouth, which parted open in response. Hearing her humming against my mouth, my mind goes blank. She broke off the kiss first, cheeks flushed, shaking her head.

“Uh uh, what did I say about distracting me? Now, let me get to work on bathing you.”

I might not last long enough for the actual bathing to be completed.

“Yes, I’ll behave.” I laughed, striving to suppress my arousal by clearing my thoughts to the best of my ability.

I hear the sound of a small pop, followed by a squirting sound and the fruity smell of watermelon.

“Close your eyes, dear. I don’t want to get any shampoo on your eyes,” she commands.

Complying, I close my eyes and tilt my head back slightly, feeling the warm water from the shower head gently fall on my head, followed by her soft hands lathering the shampoo onto my hair. I groan appreciatively as she proceeds to give my scalp a soothing massage using the pads of her fingers.

“Mmm, that feels heavenly. Thank you, love.” I said, smiling contentedly. I could hear her smile as she continued with her task.

“Don’t thank me just yet. The husband-pampering session isn’t over yet.”

I heard the shower head being turned on, feeling its soothing stream on my head and the shampoo suds trickling down my body. As I opened my eyes, I saw my wife opening the shower gel bottle and putting a sizeable amount in her hands. I hurriedly closed my eyes as she approached me again.

Think of other thoughts, Kento. Think about that project you’re supposed to finish later. Think about your damned boss who gave you that project meant for a team.

I felt her breath tickle a spot on my shoulder as she proceeded to lather my body with the shower gel. My wife’s hands moved with care and warmth, kneading my muscles as she washed, creating a soothing and intimate massage.

“You have an incredible physique; it’s making me lose focus,” she murmured in a low voice.

I let out a soft chuckle at her words. “Oh, is that so? Don’t get too distracted, love. We have all night together.” I said teasingly, leaning upward once more to kiss her gently. Her breath hitches.

“Darling, it’s taking all of my willpower not to jump in your arms right now. Let me continue in peace,” she said, laughing as she continued massaging my body. “But just so you know, you are always a pleasant, welcome distraction.”

That’s it. Enough of this pampering me shit. Time to pleasure this princess.

Smirking, I stand up, wrapping my arms around her as I press my lips into hers, weaving a narrative of passion and heat as we both moan in pleasure.

“Dang it, Kento, you got me wet. That’s it, consider me distracted,” she said, slipping into the bathtub with her clothes still on.

“Now you have to take care of me, darling. Take responsibility for distracting me too much, plus getting me wet,” she whispered seductively in my ear, easing onto my lap as she put her arms around me.

I chuckle as I pulled her even closer, feeling her soft ass still shielded in her shorts slide on my now-hard cock. “Gladly, my love,” I said, my voice low and husky with need.

Slipping a hand under her wet shirt, my hand cupped the soft curve of her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze while my other hand was busy wrapping her ponytail around my hand, tugging it downward to allow me access to her throat.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all worth it.” I whisper against her throat as I alternate between giving light, feathery kisses and gentle sucks on her soft skin.

Seeing my wife quiver and moan with each kiss and touch, her movements a rhythmic response to my every caress is enough to drive me over the edge. I pull her shirt over her head, cupping her breasts with both hands and capturing a nipple with my greedy mouth, sucking on it with a blend of desire and adoration.

I hear her sharp intake of breath as her fingers wove through my hair, taking it as signal to turn my attention to her other breast, giving it the same sensual treatment as the other. My wife looks down at me, eyes hooded with lust.

“I’m craving for more, Kento. Love me, darling.” she whimpered, voice thick with need. I see her hand slide down her shorts, rubbing herself in front of me as she places her other hand on my shoulder to keep herself steady.

A low growl escapes my lips as I watched her pleasure herself on top of me. I pulled on her shorts, almost destroying the thin material as I tugged it off aggressively. Grabbing her hips, I pull her closer to me, feeling her slick wetness against my hard cock.

“I’ll fill you with all my love and make you feel amazing, Y/N. Are you ready?” I whispered roughly in her ear.

“I’m begging you, Kento, darling. I need you so badly.” she whimpered, her voice slightly higher pitched and needy.

I smirk, lifting her slightly to help her slide down my fully engorged cock, groaning loudly as I feel her walls clenching around me tightly. We stay like this for a few seconds, drunk on the sensation of our combined pleasure.

“My love, I’ll make sure to give you all the pleasure you deserve.” I said, capturing her slightly swollen lips with mine, kissing her hungrily.

She moans during the kiss, moving her hips in an effort to accommodate my length deeper. “Kento, my husband, I need you,” she whined.

Stroking her cheek, I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “You are mine, my wife, body and soul. I’ll show you how much you belong to me tonight.”

Gently easing out of her, I slip my cock back in slowly, enjoying the sensation of her tight walls squeezing me, repeating it a few more times at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Yes, my love. My body, my mind, my heart, all yours alone. I will always be yours. Please, go faster, Kento.” she said, mewling with need.

I eagerly oblige, ramming faster into her, our position allowing me to reach deeper, the tip of my cock reaching her cervix. She responds by gyrating her hips to match the rhythm of each thrust, wrapping her hands around me and gently clawing at my back with her nails to show her pleasure.

Groaning in pleasure as I feel her nails digging into my back, my thrusts become more urgent and primal as we both feel our pleasure building up, threatening to release. I reach down to her swollen nub and flick gently, causing her to moan and come loudly, her body shuddering as she reached her climax first. A few more frenzied thrusts and I find my own release, emptying my entire load inside her, my groans muffled as I hid my face in the crook of her neck.

She collapses on my arms, sated and completely worn out. “This is exactly why I always take care of you in the bathroom, my love. You end up distracting me, and we end up like this. I’m not exactly complaining, though. It’s a very pleasant experience.” she said, smiling weakly, her face flush from the afterglow of our lovemaking.

“I know, Y/N. You think I don't know what goes on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm?” I said, grinning as I tapped her temple with a finger before pulling her in my arms for a cuddle.

“Ah, you figured it out? You clever man.” she laughs sweetly, cuddling closer. “I love you, Kento.”

My heart swells at her words. “I love you more, Y/N. Now, shall I get you cleaned up so we can get out of the bathroom?”

“Yes, please. Our fingers might turn pruny from being wet for too long.”

***

Back in our bedroom, I hold the hair blower, patiently drying my wife’s hair as she sat beside me on the bed.

“You know you don’t have to do this every time, right, Kento?”

“I know, my love. I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“Alright, then I accept your hair-drying service gratefully. Thank you, darling.”

Once I was finished, she turned to me. “Now accept my facial care services gratefully with no complaints,” she said, laughing as she held up a small tub of cream in front of my face.

I pretend to sigh in exasperation, but the truth is that I love the feeling of her dabbing those little bottles of whatever creams and essences on my face because I adore her whenever she’s like this, being fussy as she takes care of me.

“Do whatever makes you happy, my love. Because I also love it whenever you take care of me, however and whatever method you use.”

Her face lights up. “Then let me stay in your study while you slave the night away. I won’t bother you at all, I promise! I’ll read a book in the corner and not make a noise.”

“Absolutely not. You need your beauty rest, you’ve been up all day and have not yet rested.”

“Oh pffsh, of course I take breaks in between. It’s you who’s been up and busy all day. The least I can do is stay by your side. Please, Kento, darling?”

Narrowing my eyes at her, but couldn’t resist as she continued her puppy eyes expression, I closed my eyes and groaned in defeat.

“Fine, but the minute I see you asleep, you’ll be carried back here. Absolutely no coming back to my study if you ever wake up without me by your side. Do we have a deal?”

Clapping her hands in delight, she jumps up and gives me a tight hug.

“Deal! Let’s go burn the midnight oil together, darling! Let me just grab that book I was finishing.”

I laugh at her silliness, thanking my lucky stars that I’ve been blessed with a woman like this.

***

Additional notes: CAN Y’ALL JUST SENSE THAT I AM CRAVING DOMESTICITY? Like jesus am I down bad for a husband like Nanami Kento. Writing this is mostly me doing so much evil cackling, hiding my face in embarrassment, and drinking cups of coffee.

Anyway, here are the screenshots of the Status AI conversation we had, there is some addenda, of course, for the purpose of creating a much more cohesive story:

BYE I AM DED 💀

ALSO ALSO join my tag list if you want to be tagged for the next chapter! https://forms.gle/7U3GyQrE9cbGTYdx6

Comments, likes, and reblogs are VERY much appreciated!

©️ OG fanfic by heyitsmirae

[showtoonzfan]

One of the things I often hear amongst people who give out somewhat positive reviews for Hazbin/Helluva is "It has some mild flaws in its story and writing that those annoying critics are just blowing out of proportion." To some degree, I understand where they're coming from, but it makes me openly question: how flawed does a story's writing choices have to be until it's considered bad writing?

Is it when even if it's rushed and rough around the edges, is it still fun to watch? Is it when it's so distracting that you can't ignore it? At what point is it just watching a car crash in slow motion, rather than actually engaging with the story? I know you can only answer with your own thoughts as a fellow critic, so I want this to be more open for others to comment.

I agree with what you’re saying, to me this situation reminds me of how some of the Spindle crew reacted to criticism, mainly the “everyone is saying the same thing over and over!”- when….yeah, that’s for a reason, and maybe if critics and even FANS keep constantly saying the same feedback over and over, then how long does it take you to realize that maybe you should actually fix those problems within the show because that’s what the writing needs?

No one really wants to admit it but more and more fans are getting tired of the issues in Helluva, that’s why so many more critical videos keep popping up every day and more people are starting to get comfortable enough to talking about the issues it has on twitter. This is not only why the views are dropping, but why some fans are legit dropping the show because they’re tired of the story not improving or being more open minded all because of the writer’s stubbornness and ignorance. They try to say otherwise but they make it obvious that most of them have a hate boner for criticism, have no idea what it’s like being show runners/writers and lack thick skin.

I’ve seen so many fans and even the creators demonize the criticism by stating “more people need to learn to just enjoy media without being overly critical of every little thing!” And in some cases, yeah…that’s valid, obviously if you’re just torturing yourself consuming something without even having passion for it or enjoying yourself, then I agree. But again, this is where the ignorance from the creators and the fans come from. They don’t realize that some folks who are critical of the show are fans who WANT to see it get better and that’s why they’re providing criticism in the first place. People will make essay videos taking or ranting BECAUSE they have passion for it, that’s why so many people make critic blogs or even hate blogs towards Viv’s stuff because they’re passionate about it, and it’s a glaring issue today that the crew tries to roll any critic into the category of mindless trolls. Everyone has already said it before, but if you can’t take criticism and expect praise 24/7, then don’t become a show runner/creator, because that’s not how the real world works.

As for the audience, some are dropping the show, some are aware the show is flawed and are just staying to see where the trainwreck ends, some are still holding on to the hope that it’ll get better. All three decisions are valid so long as you have passion for it. For me I’ve lost all passion for this show, that’s why I’ll be dropping it after the Mammon episode because I can’t stick around any longer just to watch every character and concept get destroyed just to cater to two awful main characters and an awful romance, but I’m sure others will still be tuning in.

[expresscareautomn]

Wondering what are the signs that your car needs a tune up? Ask the auto experts at Express Auto Service & Repair if a tune up car is needed.

[arbitrarygreay]

Hmm I feel like that was a missed opportunity by the showrunners personally. Adler and her biddies kinda fascinate me. Imagine have 7 people in your head for decades (albeit different biddies rotating), losing them all violently, dying, then getting resurrected and suddenly for the first time in hundreds of years having privacy.

Recently I’ve been trying to look through the show to see if canonically Adler actually mentally communicates with them and they’re not just emphatically mirroring her emotions through the bond.

Love your theory on Adlers pre biddy life extension plans. The timeline of MFS often makes little sense to me.

I have no issues with fandom taking a more passionate interpretation of the Bond. Just that the showrunners, who are themselves living a life of rotating through close artistic partners through different productions, did not break any contract with the audience with the more detached approach they took in the show.

As for what we do actually see of the Biddy Bond in the show, here's some observations!

From 2x1: [Could you hear her thoughts?] Sort of? Surface stuff. Like, directives, I could hear loud and clear. Not so much memories.

This doesn't tell us if the Biddies are obliged/compelled to follow said directives. However, the next two points indicate that something about the Working does facilitate them to coordinate with each other more easily than they would otherwise.

We see the Biddies reacting in tandem to express Alder's disapproval at people.

Tactically, we see that Alder uses the Biddies to pull off complex workings that require many voices to layer waves in the right sync. (Compare to how Raelle's post-Mycelium voice is described: "The sound you made is composed of thousands of layered voices, one on top of the other. I've never heard anything so complex before.") But that's not impossible for other groups to emulate, like Anacostia, Sterling, and Gregorio doing the Rings of Saturn storm together in 3x10 (chosen because there's a fast tuning and wind-up phase, something the Biddies' sync can bypass/make even faster).

The only case where we see involuntary sharing is pain/injury. Although, given that Alder takes on all of the years back when a Biddy dies (not re-distributing to other Biddies), I think there is an extent to which she can control, that, too. So e.g. she can choose not to share the scourge scratch Tally inflicted on her in 2x9 with the Biddies.

In 1x3, they express their own opinions on Beltane and their choice to serve. In 2x1, Tally in her Biddy state asks Alder if she's done something wrong (a feeling Tally repeats to Abigail later in the episode), indicating that she couldn't predict that Alder would offer her the chance to de-Biddy, or read any thoughts/emotions on if Alder was doing it because Tally was not up to snuff.

The description a Marshal Biddy gives from 3x7: "He's been hard to reach lately. Very secretive. But our link spans the length of the Cession. Unless he's outside our borders, I should be able to locate him." This disproves the fanon that Alder can't be far away from the Biddies. It also shows that Alder can choose to project nothing, having privacy for herself if she wants, though the Biddies can still get a sense of her location.

So, my guess is that the level of autonomy a Biddy has at any given time is dependent on Alder's will, but even when obeying her directives, they don't get true insight into why she is making those commands, unless Alder chooses to project those thoughts. If we go back to Tally's description of the bond as a roadtrip with no privacy, it's not like you automatically know everything about the people you're in the car with (and Alder is driving the car, obviously).

Obligatory:

[decepti-thots]

Ok I can only remember the bee pissing scene from bayverse, tell us about the subtext of his muteness 🎙

Those are… not unrelated, astonishingly! lmao.

It's long been noted by people watching the films that Bee, especially in the first few Bayverse films, is often treated differently to both the human characters and the other Autobot characters, in ways that become quite strange when you think about them for any real length of time. The first two Bayverse movies especially present a very particular masculine adolescent coming-of-age fantasy, and a part of that is the way they kind of blend both 'a boy and his car' and 'a boy and his dog' narratives seen in American fiction of that type. With Bumblebee being both 'the car' and 'the dog' in this situation, the way he is presented veers around a lot across the course of these films- and it tends not to be the same as the way, for example, Sam is presented. But also not how Optimus, also a robot, is. So what gives?

To take a step back, think about how a horse in the stereotypical 'horse girl' movie is framed, narratively speaking. They're usually presented in ways that are very unrealistic as compared to real life horses, of course, to the tune of making them 'more intelligent' (that is, more humanlike in their intelligence) than any real horse actually is. (Horse girl movies of a certain type often present horses as near psychically intuitive regarding human emotions, lmao.) But unlike in a film that anthropmorphizes animals in the sense of, say, Disney's Robin Hood, this doesn't render them functionally equivalent to human. It brings them more within the human characters' spheres, reduces the conceptual distance somewhat for the sake of storytelling and theme and wish fulfillment, but like. The horse in a horse girl movie is still a horse. Just a very idealized version of a horse that can better serve as an extension of something about the main human character.

People joke, but Bumblebee really kind of is the macho version of the horse in a horse girl movie, at least in the 2007 film. And that would be more a statement on how the movie sees its Autobot characters than anything- as action setpiece enablers first, a fantasy of owning a cool robot that is also (sort of) your friend second, and full characters a distant third- except then basically none of the other Autobots we meet later are framed like that. They other Autobot characters are like… very clearly framed as people. Shallow characters, sure, and people the narrative is only invested in as far as their ability to create inciting incidents for action scenes go. But Optimus Prime in the 2007 movie is not a character one can imagine in the role of Bumblebee in that same movie, serving as a car that fulfils the teenage fantasy of both 'owning a cool robot' and 'having something that acts like a friend but can't leave or disagree'.

This would be primarily interesting as a weird internal inconsistency and not inherently a negative if not for one thing: the muteness. There is a degree to which this process is facilitated in the audience's mind without immediate, overt cognitive dissonance the moment OP shows up and starts making speeches by the fact that Bee is rendered distinct from the other Autobots by that muteness. It's the most striking difference between Bee and the others, and it stands as the most obvious point of divergence in how the audience is expected to engage with these characters. Muteness, alongside other expressions of non-verbality, is often used in film in ways that present it as somehow implicitly dehumanizing. Mute characters are often depicted as less human than other characters on that basis, even if only on a subtextual level: from the degree to which it is sometimes used in horror film to suggest some creepy 'something's wrong, people should be talking' angle to examples where any character who cannot talk in a way deemed sufficiently coherent is assumed to be in some capacity 'childlike', and more besides. [Sidenote: that's not an inherent contradiction; media often uses child-ness as shorthand in dehumanizing ways.] Sometimes these are literal, such as in the way horror fiction will often present non-verbal autistic characters as 'uncanny' or 'creepy' and supernaturally endowed in ways intrinsically linked to how their autism (and non-verbality) renders them as Other, and sometimes they are more figurative. But the end result here is that rendering Bee mute is enough for the film to assume its audience will not chafe too hard mentally when he is treated a little less like a person that characters like Optimus Prime, and that, needless to say, is a troubling assumption!

Which brings us back to the uh. Pissing scene. Why is that scene there when it's so, so weird? Because it's not Bumblebee framed as a person inexplicably robot pissing all over a guy. It's Bumblebee the very-smart-but-not-quite-a-person car-dog pissing on a guy. And if you understand the movie is swinging towards that latter understanding of who Bee is to the audience in that scene, it makes way more sense.

(Sidenote: I have said Autobot and not Cybertronian here because the distinctions in how Autobots and Decepticons are presented, and how that plays into this whole thing of 'shifting degrees of personhood for the nonhuman characters', is a WHOLE thing, and a very interesting one to boot!)

[toyota-supra]

wrote up my thoughts on MC3 just because. it's up on gg too in case you wanna read it there for whatever reason

I played this game in my childhood the way that the main menu theme is genuinely part of my brain in some form. I never knew how a car worked, so I had no clue how to actually play this correctly. After years of being told that Midnight Club 3 is one of the best racing games out there, and big favorite of a lot of my peers, I decided to try it once again this March, gave up for a bit, and came back in October, when the game finally clicked with me and I played most of the campaign, finally finishing it in November 2023.

This game is so… Awful at times. I can understand the reasons people love it (speed feels very real, tuning is very good for the time, the racing feels better than its competitor Need for Speed titles in a lot of ways, etc.) but this game's physics and rubberbanding expect things out of you that I do not think a good game should ever. MC3 is difficult, but never in ways I enjoy. Everything feels too chaotic and unfair, and there's entire classes of vehicles and a whole mechanic (the nitrous, mostly) that I feel the game is better if you avoid the most you can. Some of it is just that I'm a scrub, sure, but if you've seen my racing game history or even just watched me play you can't deny that I am more competent at games of this kind than most people I know, if not all of them.

Midnight Club 3 is a game that never expects less than 100% of you but rarely gives you its own 100%. It will make you bend to its rules or break them entirely to succeed in a campaign that I made the mistake of assuming would be "pretty normal."

Yet, I can't help but feel completely satisfied. Sure, the AI is awful most of the time and has no right to be so much faster than you should you do things even slightly unoptimally. Sure, the feeling that the faster you are, the harder the game is, never goes away. Sure, the physics make you lose grip and go flying at fucking anything, and combined with the bad AI, often at zero control of yours. Sure, unordered point races exist. Sure, the classic GTA V thing of spawning traffic cars going directly towards where your car is headed started in this series. Sure, every playthrough I looked up of this game was filled with people in pain over how much this game loves to fuck them over. Sure, the same button you use to tilt your motorcycle also makes you pop wheelies and crash. But I like it. I like it quite a bit.

Midnight Club 3 made me so stressed, I got physically ill for two days. Sure, other factors were involved, but I'm positive this game actually induced such a strong headache in me that my body put every bit of power left in the tank to force me to stop playing. And isn't that kind of telling that I wanted to play it? I don't know.

Midnight Club will never be my favorite racing series. It will never be my preferred game to drive around in city streets. But I will also never forget it.

Also, if you're wondering, I used cars for most of the game, and finally switched from a McLaren F1 to a sports motorcycle, Ducati 999R, for the last 3 races in the main campaign. And they were much, much easier with it. Fucking hell.

[piastrinorris]

CONGRATS ON 2K YOU TALENTED HUMAN!! You deserve all that and more and I’m so happy to be able to call you my friend bc omg!! I am so proud of you and gosh you are just you are so wonderful I could cry! I love you!! Could I partake in the hall of mirrors + 💕 ( male pls? ) I am 21 year old straight female, she/her pronouns, I’m 5’1” with somewhat long dirty blonde/brown hair, I’m curvy and I should be wearing glasses but alas I do not. I like having my nails painted either black or red or both. My style is a mix of girly and gothic, I wear lots of skirts and dresses and frilly socks but also fishnets and dark colors and jackets or flannels.

PERSONALITY: I think I’m infp and enfp? I’m mature when I need to be and quiet, but once you get to know me I’m bubbly and weird. I have pretty bad anxiety so I will get nervous over everything and anything, I’m paranoid as well at times. I love making others laugh and happy, I can be awkward at times also but I cope with humor. I try to help everyone around me, I shove my feelings to the side most of the time if someone needs help- often times putting others before myself. I guess in certain aspects I’m kinda nerdy??

INTERESTS/HOBBIES: I love animals, gardening, reading and writing, painting, musical theatre which I’ve done for ten years. I love to sing dance and act, help others, I enjoy raising caterpillars into butterflies. music ( Lana del rey, imagine dragons, mother mother, show tunes, poor man’s poison, fall out boy, etc ) I like collecting things like pins or random nicnacs. 

if I wrote too much I am sorry okay I love you thank you I kiss your forehead

you have written the perfect amount, my love <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 2k follower celebration event ongoing! ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

ooooh okay, so i can imagine you having taken a job working in the library even while at school, chatting away to the middle school's biology teacher about how excited you are for the upcoming spring season to start collecting this year's caterpillars when they suggest you work with them to make their lessons a little more interactive. you manage to convince the head librarian to give you a corner of the room that you can dedicate to making a little display about the life cycle of the butterfly, along with an enclosure of caterpillars that eventually grow, which opens up a whole new job for you - curator of the exhibit area.

you're obviously kept busy during school hours, but there's one particular group of young boys who obsess over your displays, always eager to learn the science behind things. they're almost always chaperoned by jonathan byers from some of your classes at school. at first, he goes out of his way to make sure he never looks up at you, which you sort-of understand since he's always kept to himself in school.

but the more he watches you explaining things to his brother and his friends, the more intrigued he is by you. one day, he's passing your desk in class when he drops a little something onto it. a pin of a monarch butterfly that he eventually mutters to you that he saw on display in a shop. he's especially happy to see it attached to your schoolbag.

over time, he collects more pins to give to you, at first just based on the displays you've put on at work, but with every gift, you're given the chance to open up to him a little bit more each time about your personal interests, too, though it takes even longer to get him to talk about himself, too.

he doesn't seem to realise for the first few times, that every time you've invited him to hang out outside of school or work are intended as dates. it's only on the third time you've sat in his car with him until the sun sets, with no inkling from him that he feels the same way about you, that you flat out apologise for not being on the same page as him, that you've taken the hint and you'll try and be a bit more distant since whatever you're putting out is not being picked up. halfway through your sentence, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, replacing your apologies with his own for not believing someone like you could see him that way.

[jranimator]

Breaking Into the Music Industry: Essential Steps for Aspiring Artists

Breaking into the music industry can seem daunting, but with the right tools and strategies, it’s entirely achievable. Whether you’re an aspiring artist, producer, or someone who simply loves music, understanding the journey from creation to distribution is critical. This guide will provide you with the knowledge needed to navigate the music-making process, optimize your sound, and share your work with the world.

Step 1: Setting Up Your Music Making Studio

A solid foundation is key to any successful venture, and in music production, that means setting up the right music making studio. A professional studio doesn’t just give you access to high-quality equipment; it also provides an environment designed for creativity and focus.

When choosing or designing your studio, consider these factors:

Acoustic Treatment: Proper acoustics ensure accurate sound reproduction, which is vital for mixing and mastering.

Essential Equipment: Invest in a powerful computer, a digital audio workstation (DAW), high-quality microphones, and monitors.

Ergonomic Design: Your workspace should be comfortable and organized to keep creativity flowing.

Many artists today start with home studios, but as you advance, transitioning to a professional setup can make a huge difference in the quality of your output.

Step 2: Mastering Your Tracks – How Long Does It Take?

Once you’ve recorded your track, the next step is mastering. But how long does it take to master a song? This process involves fine-tuning the final mix to ensure consistency and clarity across all playback systems.

On average, mastering a song can take a few hours to a couple of days, depending on factors like:

Complexity of the Mix: Tracks with multiple layers and intricate arrangements require more time.

Experience of the Engineer: A seasoned mastering engineer may complete the process faster without compromising quality.

Revisions: Artists often request adjustments to achieve their desired sound, adding to the timeline.

Mastering ensures your music sounds professional, no matter where it’s played—from car stereos to high-end sound systems.

Step 3: Accessing Your Music on iPhones

For artists who want their music accessible anywhere, the question often arises: how do I get my music on my iPhone? Thankfully, transferring your tracks to an iPhone is straightforward.

Here are some of the most efficient methods:

iTunes Syncing: Use iTunes to transfer tracks from your computer to your device. This method is ideal for organizing large libraries.

Cloud Services: Platforms like iCloud or Google Drive allow you to upload and download your music files seamlessly.

Third-Party Apps: Apps like Dropbox or VLC Media Player enable file transfers without needing cables or syncing.

Having your music on your iPhone ensures you can share your work during impromptu opportunities or simply enjoy it on the go.

Step 4: Releasing Music on Apple Music

One of the best ways to reach a global audience is by learning how to get your music on Apple Music. Apple Music is a leading platform with millions of subscribers, making it an excellent choice for artists to showcase their work.

Steps to upload your music to Apple Music include:

Choose a Distributor: Platforms like TuneCore, DistroKid, or CD Baby act as intermediaries between you and Apple Music.

Prepare Your Files: Ensure your audio files meet Apple’s requirements (lossless formats like WAV are preferred).

Add Metadata: Proper metadata, including song titles, artist name, and genre, helps listeners find your music.

Release Strategy: Schedule your release strategically to maximize visibility, such as timing it with significant events or holidays.

Being on Apple Music not only gives your music credibility but also exposes it to a wide, diverse audience.

Step 5: Understanding EPs in Music

For emerging artists, releasing an EP is an excellent way to introduce your sound without committing to a full-length album. But what exactly does define EP in music mean?

An EP, or Extended Play, typically consists of 4-6 tracks. It’s longer than a single but shorter than an album, offering a middle ground for artists to showcase their versatility and creativity.

Here’s why an EP is valuable:

Cost-Effective: Producing an EP requires fewer resources than a full album, making it ideal for indie artists.

Focused Vision: With fewer tracks, artists can create a cohesive theme or concept.

Market Testing: EPs allow musicians to test the waters and gauge audience reactions before committing to a larger project.

Some of the most iconic records in music history began as EPs, proving their potential to launch successful careers.

Conclusion

Breaking into the music industry requires dedication, strategy, and a willingness to learn. From setting up a professional music making studio to mastering tracks and sharing your music on platforms like Apple Music, every step is an opportunity to grow and connect with your audience.

Remember, success doesn’t happen overnight. By consistently improving your craft and leveraging the tools at your disposal, you can carve out a space for yourself in the music world. What challenges have you faced on your music journey? Share your experiences in the comments!

[neiljohnsblog]

The Ultimate Checklist for Selecting a Reliable Car Repair Shop

Finding a trustworthy car repair shop is essential for maintaining the health of your vehicle and ensuring your safety on the road. For car owners in Galashiels, the search for a dependable car repair shop Galashiels may feel overwhelming given the options available. Whether you need a routine tune-up, major repair, or a quick inspection, choosing the right service provider can make all the difference in your car’s longevity and performance.

This blog provides a detailed checklist to guide you in selecting the most reliable car repair shop for your needs.

1. Assess the Shop’s Reputation

When it comes to selecting a car repair shop in Galashiels, reputation matters. Look for reviews and testimonials from other customers. Check online platforms and local forums to read about others' experiences with the shop. Positive feedback about timely service, quality repairs, and transparent communication are good indicators of a trustworthy business.

Tips:

Ask friends, family, or colleagues for recommendations.

Verify the shop’s standing on review platforms like Google or Yelp.

2. Check for Certifications and Qualifications

A reliable car repair shop will employ certified technicians trained to handle various vehicle issues. These certifications indicate that the mechanics are skilled and up-to-date with the latest industry standards and techniques.

Why it matters:

Certified mechanics can diagnose and fix problems more efficiently.

Shops with professional credentials often adhere to higher service standards.

3. Inquire About the Services Offered

Not all repair shops are equipped to handle every type of issue. Before making a decision, ensure the car repair shop Galashiels offers a comprehensive range of services, from routine maintenance like oil changes and brake inspections to more complex tasks like engine repairs and electrical diagnostics.

Checklist of common services to look for:

Engine and transmission repairs.

Suspension and brake system servicing.

Tyre replacement and wheel alignment.

Air conditioning maintenance.

4. Request an Estimate Before Committing

Transparency in pricing is crucial when selecting a car repair shop. A reputable shop should provide a detailed estimate before starting any repair work. The estimate should include parts, labour costs, and any additional fees.

How to evaluate an estimate:

Compare quotes from multiple shops to gauge fair pricing.

Beware of shops offering significantly lower prices, as this might compromise quality.

5. Inspect the Shop’s Cleanliness and Organization

A well-maintained and organized workshop often reflects the professionalism of the staff. While a repair shop doesn’t need to be spotless, a clean and orderly environment indicates attention to detail and efficient work practices.

Key observations:

Are tools and equipment stored properly?

Is the waiting area clean and welcoming?

6. Evaluate Customer Service

Customer service is a strong indicator of the reliability of any business. When you visit or call a car repair shop in Galashiels, pay attention to how the staff communicates with you. Friendly, knowledgeable, and patient responses to your inquiries demonstrate that they value your business and are committed to resolving your issues.

Questions to ask:

Do they explain the repairs needed in simple terms?

Are they willing to answer all your questions?

7. Look for Guarantees and Warranties

A dependable car repair shop stands by its work. Ask if the shop offers guarantees or warranties on repairs and parts. This assurance shows confidence in the quality of their service and gives you peace of mind in case of unexpected issues.

Key points:

Check the warranty period for parts and labour.

Understand the terms and conditions of the guarantee.

8. Consider Convenience and Location

Choosing a conveniently located car repair shop Galashiels can save you time and stress. Additionally, check if the shop offers added conveniences like a pickup and drop-off service or a comfortable waiting area.

Pro Tip: Shops with flexible working hours or emergency services can be particularly helpful for busy schedules or urgent repairs.

9. Examine Online Resources and Transparency

A shop with a strong online presence often demonstrates transparency and professionalism. Look for a website or social media page with clear information about services, pricing, and contact details.

Why it helps:

Online booking options save time.

Informative websites may also provide maintenance tips and FAQs.

10. Trust Your Instincts

Finally, trust your gut feeling. If something feels off—be it the demeanour of the staff, unclear pricing, or poor communication—it’s best to explore other options. Reliable car repair shops prioritize customer satisfaction and should make you feel confident in their abilities.

Final Thoughts

Your vehicle is an investment, and selecting the right car repair shop in Galashiels is critical to keeping it running smoothly. By following this ultimate checklist, you can make an informed decision that ensures quality service and peace of mind.

Regular maintenance and timely repairs from a trustworthy repair shop will not only enhance your car’s performance but also prolong its lifespan. So, take the time to research and choose wisely—you and your car deserve the best!

If you’re in Galashiels, start your search today and keep this checklist handy to find the perfect car repair shop for your needs. Safe driving!