#i am open for feedback

[hellodahliah]

starcrossed

act i

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eric: en garde, prêts, allez!

eric: point to tybalt!

eric: and tybalt wins

mercutio: *pants*

*applause*

tybalt: "unlike you, i don't need much training" what happened to that? you talk too much shit. i hope romeo isn't s pathetic as you.

mercutio: yeah, i talk a lot of shit. but you keep going on about romeo and his ass.

tybalt: shut the hell up!

mercutio: *gasp*

tybalt: what is your nonno plotting? is he using romeo to spy on us? tell me the truth!

mercutio: what are you talking about?

tybalt: if he is using romeo to hurt my sister, i am going to make your life a living hell!

mercutio: tybalt... since when did the family feud turn into your only personality trait?

tybalt: j-just tell me honestly... is he using you two again? like he did before, when he told you to befriend me. it was all a ploy wasn't it?

mercutio: in your own words we were never really friends. you made it clear, remember?

puck: okay, get up! step back!

eric: my office, now!

[hegory-grousing]

im not a writer so this doesn't have real dialogue. mad libs I guess. I imagine this happens often on their lunch dates hehe

[genderqueerdykes]

Your post about man hating & antimasculism reminds me of the essay/blog post “I Am A Transwoman. I Am In The Closet. I Am Not Coming Out” (tldr: the author is a trans woman and a large part of the essay/post describes her experiences with man hating & antimasculism and how that affected her)

As a transmasc/transneutral individual, I always resonated with that essay/blog post. Especially since the whole man hating & antimasculism rhetoric has seemingly started to influence people I know who weren’t man hating/antimasculism/etc before (e.g., it’s uncomfortable to feel like I’m put in a position where I either feel like I have to trigger my own dysphoria and point out to people that I’m unambiguously read as a woman + that I’m closeted offline + I’m not transitioning in any capacity [offline due to safety reasons] to be taken seriously when talking about certain thing or say nothing and be completely dismissed. Doing something like calling them out for being dismissive and prejudiced doesn’t end well…)

Feel free not to reply to this and/or delete it. I just wanted to get this out (sorry for venting)

GOD THANK YOU FOR THE REMINDER!!!!!!! i haven't thought about that essay in forever:

can someone link us the post containing this essay? I feel like this is a huge thing to be showing to people right now. the first time i read it, i cried because i related so hard. people are so cruel and don't understand that coming out as a trans woman is SO fucking hard and straight up impossible in many places. it means death in many places. people just straight up doing fucking care and are not compassionate about potential trans women around them that have to stay in the closet or boymode for safety.

thank you so much for reminding us and sharing your experience. i'm sorry that you're facing these issues, it's really tough to deal with that sort of thing IRL and then listen to absolutely batshit banter online. take care of yourself. stay safe out there and thanks again

[neostellarjpg]

random classpects from stuff i like

media in order: 17776, princess tutu, everything everywhere all at once, sonny boy, outer wilds

[ebonytails]

Hey everyone! this is where the zebra is currently with the design.

It has knee braces!! I will most probably be drawing the zebra usually with them on, but it’s no requirement, for example if anyone else wants to draw the zebra :-]. I always like to make sure an animal design has official colors underneath any clothing and accessory anyway. I think this will be final! thank you everyone for your feedback!

As a reminder, aside from why the zebra was requested for this flag, this is also just a zebra with the disability pride flag on it. It’s just a deisgn to fit the flag, with input from other disabled people in our community. It doesn’t mean other animals can’t have designs with these colors, too! I don’t mean this design to be the only mascot for all disabled people. It’s just a silly series i do of pride animals, and at the time, during disability pride month, I wanted to see what everyone wanted me to start off with for this flag!

the goal with my pride animals is to take requests and make people feel happy and seen.. that’s all <:-)

[evilkitten3]

some reminders that i think this site could use:

-it is still not ok to be racist

-it is still not ok to be antisemitic

-it is still not ok to be islamophobic

-it is still not ok to be misogynistic

-it is still not ok to be classist

-it is still not ok to be xenophobic

-it is still not ok to be intersexist

-it is still not ok to be ageist

-it is still not ok to be ableist

-it is still not ok to be fatphobic

-it is still not ok to be -phobic of anything under the lgbtq+ umbrella

-not even if you really dislike someone

-not even if you really dislike their spouse

-bigotry is not bad because it's targeting the wrong people, it's bad no matter who it's targeting

-hating someone for something outside their control is still bad

-sweeping generalizations of large groups of people will inevitably include smaller marginalized groups within that larger group and if you forget about this they will accuse you of bigotry towards them and you will deserve it

-the above does not separate those marginalized peoples fully from the larger group, nor does it make bigotry towards them acceptable

and also

-someone having a different opinion from you does not make them automatically a bot or a psyop. it makes them a person who has a different opinion than you

-fallacies, propaganda techniques, and means of spreading mis/disinformation are not just things to watch out for from those you view as opposition, but also things to keep an eye out for concerning your perceived allies and yourself

-sometimes people just don't know things or know incorrect things. this is not a statement of their moral inferiority. not everyone is actively out to do harm, some people just have questions or are wrong about things

ok? ok

[sportsthoughts]

Day 67 of offseason gifs - In The Room S05E01 part 2

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I think I've asked this before, but do you have any home remedies/advice for handling muscle cramps, knots, and/or spasms? I'm staying well hydrated, taking electrolyte supplements, and using a hot water bottle as my current management method but it's not working super great this time Also, crafting updates may be delayed on account of ouch

[jaxihammer]

You will never convince me that Isabel Lovelace is not disabled post-canon. Think about it.

Of everyone in the crew, she's spent by far the longest time in space. Sure, she's probably been exercising, but that isn't going to fully stop her muscles atrophying. Her bones are going to weaken. Not to mention the fact that she went into the cryo chamber, which we know isn't GREAT for you (I know Eiffel is kind of an outlier but still. Even once is gonna fuck you up at least a little).

Then add to THAT the fact that the body Lovelace has now was created by the dear listeners. Not only are they recreating a body that's already undergone almost a thousand days of the trauma of space; they're doing it with zero existing knowledge of how a human body functions in Earth's gravity. The clones are almost perfect, but there are notable differences in internal organs, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lovelace was put back together with some inconsistencies.

All this to say, I think Lovelace would become a mobility aid user when the crew lands back on Earth. Everyone on the crew would probably end up in physical therapy, but the damage done to her body would be by far the most extensive. Whereas I don't doubt Jacobi, Minkowski, and Eiffel could regain most if not all of their mobility, I think Lovelace would use a wheelchair, and eventually with PT could use crutches or a cane some days. Even if she were to regain muscle function, she would probably have some sort of chronic pain that would necessitate mobility aids!

In conclusion Let Her Be Disabled thank you for coming to my TED talk

[ofbardsandmen]

nothing ever excites me more than a spontaneous genshin, or more particularly, mondstadt discovery. i sat diluc upon the barbatos statue as a nice spot to go afk on without being interrupted by repetitive idle animations and voicelines (sorry diluc, this is nothing personal). my volume was turned up more than regularly by accident, and my in-game music was off despite how much i like the original game soundtrack. aNYHOW- i was about to go afk when i heard some strange noises that i didn't recall hearing in mondt before. it made me pause and turn my volume up even more. in the video above, it's kind of hard to discern the brief sounds over the noise of the wind up on the statue and in mondstadt in general, but when the wind dies down a little, you can distinctly hear voices of people, and what shocked me the most – neighs of horses. i have no clue whether it is just me discovering this only now, after 4 years of playing this godforsaken game and clearly not having paid enough attention to mondstadt's sfx before, but i still felt the need to share this terribly interesting tidbit in case there's other clueless mondstadt enthusiasts like me.

[seonghwacore]

be real honest. which member of your favorite group whose personality is actually similar to you? are they your bias or not?

[mossclan-moons]

Otterstar, why do you treat Russetpaw like that? Do you treat his siblings similarly?

Otterstar is subconsciously harder on him than the others because he looks like his bio dad 😬

Meta explanation for those curious: Russet is the only kit that she has any sort of "dislike" relationship bar with! Don't worry, there's still plenty of platonic like.

The Otterling's bio dad is unknown in the game, but I made him orange to explain Russet's coloring, and spotted to explain Podkit's pattern!

Side note: decided to take a page out of @littlebloomclan's book and used the eye colors as their ear and mouth colors. Holy cow, what an awesome style choice! Such a small detail, but cutting small corners like that really saves on time in the long run :)

[northern-passage]

I came across the character Branwen* in my most recent play-through and was curious if she's supposed to be Inuit or not? It was just a bit unclear since she has a chin-stripe tattoo, a Welsh name, and comes from Gael (which I'm under the impression is supposed to be Norse inspired?) Neither the Welsh/Celts or Norse had tattoos like these and the imagery of such comes from the appropriation of Inuit kakiniit. It's unfortunately common, especially in the fantasy genre, think Yasha from Critical Role, and I wouldn't really blame you for not yet knowing better. Misguided or not, it's very damaging since these tattoos are a closed practice, and Inuit have asked us not to use them for non-indigenous characters. Some other cultures have similar tattoos, but these are specifically what are appropriated from in the "Norse aesthetic".

This could be a great opportunity to represent a community that's regularly misrepresentationed and appropriated from in the genre, though! I don't believe you had any ill intentions, if this is a mistake you've made, since you've done really well about a lot of other things so far.

Also, I've done a lot of research on the topic for my own world building and I can try to help if you have any questions!

Here's a list of Inuk creators and artists from my own following (on TikTok specifically):

kadlun

willow.allen

notdayle

shinanova

And fairy.gothparent (not indigenous) has some really educational content on the subject also!

I'm sorry I've misread or misinterpreted anything, and I hope none of this came off as aggressive! I'm just genuinely curious and want to help others do better!

hi :-) no worries, you are not aggressive at all. Branwen is not meant to be Inuit, nor is she meant to be Welsh or Norse. Gael and Adrania are just Fantasy Lands with their own lore & culture-- but with that being said, i am fully aware that the setting for TNP is very much giving medieval Europe, hahahaha. regardless, when i choose names they are mainly just because i like them, so i wouldn't put too much stock in them when reading.

same thing when i designed Branwen, the tattoo was mostly for the aesthetic and because i liked it. i was aware of a few different types of indigenous tattoos (like the Māori tāmoko as well as the Inuit kakiniit) at the time i chose the thick, solid line because i was purposefully trying to avoid conflating it directly with those indigenous tattoos. you're the first person to point this out to me and i appreciate it and it has made me reevaluate my decision to give her such a distinct tattoo. i wanted tattoos to be a big part of Gaelish culture & planned for them to be made with heavy lines & geometry, but in the end a lot of the designs are all over the place (Merry's are way more modern due to basing some of the designs around nautical/sailor tattoos with only a few geometric designs, while Lea's are strictly geometric runes meant for their alchemy)

i absolutely want to avoid misrepresenting these tattoos, especially since it was never my intention for this character to be interpreted as a part of any of the mentioned indigenous groups. this is a good reminder for myself that my work does not exist in a vacuum and regardless of my intentions, the names i choose & the designs i make still reflect my own personal biases and have implications outside of my story.

i appreciate you messaging me and sharing resources. and i always want to encourage people to do so! especially because in my worldbuilding for Gael and Adrania i am pulling inspiration from a lot of different places and a lot of other fantasy media. i've always intended for Adrania to be a "melting pot," with a lot of different influences as in-game cultures converge around their ports & trade routes, but that can also lead to me unintentionally harming real world groups & cultures in my interpretations. as much as i want to "build from scratch" it's just not possible, i will always be influenced by the society i live in, hence me including the tattoo to begin with because you're right, i have seen similar designs in other fantasy media & just didn't think much about it.

going forward i'll most likely just remove that tattoo from Branwen's design, and maybe give her a neck tattoo instead 🤔 just something different to distinguish it from those indigenous designs.

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Why is it Always 1/8 of a Sex Thing?

Blitz and Striker fic is finally up! This is chapter 1, I'll probably do more chapters eventually but it takes a long time cause this is my first time writing fight scenes (hopefully all the googling paid off lol).

Story is set some time after "Oops" (season 2 episode 6) and before "Full Moon" (season 2 episode 8).

Warning: The following fic contains graphic violence, strong language, sexual themes (no explicit sex), as well as rampant messy sneezing... so yes, it's intended for mature audiences.

———————————————————————————

When Blitz opened the door to the warehouse, he locked eyes with a certain cowboy who’d been lying in wait. Blitz’s amused smile met Striker’s menacing grin, and for a moment, neither spoke.

This certainly hadn’t been on Blitz’s agenda for today. No, he was just stopping by to pick up some bullets because IMP’s supplier in Wrath was “understaffed”. Whether that was a ruse or an unfortunate accident, Blitz was beginning to think Striker had something to do with it. Striker bared his teeth, but didn’t attack immediately.

He was savoring the moment, basking in the anticipation. Blitz had defeated him one too many times and he would not stand for this humiliation. This was going to be the end of this stupid fucking feeling of incompetence. Or was it? Until the fight started he was both winner and loser. And he needed to be only a winner. He pulled out his guns, and in an instant Blitz was mirroring the movement.

“You again?” Blitz laughed at the cowboy. “You’re wasting your time, we both know how this ends.” “You don’t know shit,” Striker taunted, lassoing the imp and pulling him closer. Blitz raised an eyebrow. “What, you’re gonna tell me I got it wrong and you’re actually here to make out with me?” Striker growled as Blitz wriggled free of the rope, but before Blitz managed to go anywhere, Striker dipped the point of his tail in some powdery substance and stuck that point up Blitz’s nose.

A split second of confusion flashed across Blitz’s face, quickly replaced with a smug smile. “Ooh, not a commonly chosen hole, I gotta give you points for creativity! But really, if you wanted inside my holes so bad, you coulda just asked!” “You won’t be laughing for much longer. I reckon that stuff should kick in about 3…” Blitz gripped his gun and looked around, no obvious signs of danger. “2…” He did a mental scan of his body, no obvious signs of poison. “1.” “Heh’tsschew!”

Striker smiled, and Blitz rolled his eyes. “Look, I love a good release as much as the next guy, but I’ve got places to be, so let’s wrap this up.” He pulled out his gun and aimed at Striker, but before he could pull the trigger his focus was thrown off. “Hit’schhhue!” The shot went wide, and frustration flashed across his face. Striker chuckled. “Now you’re getting it.” “If by it, you mean fucked in a new hole, then yeah! You know, they say a sneeze is 1/8 of an orgasm. Wanna find out?” He winked. Striker sighed. “Seriously? You’re gonna make this one a sex thing too?” Blitz laughed. “Come on, you should know by now,” he said, aiming his gun again. “I always make it a se… eh… eh’TSCHEW! I always make it a sex thing.” Another missed shot, but this time Blitz didn’t let his smile slip. “I’m 3/8ths of the way there! Aren’t you getting excited?”

“Just shut up and let me capture you already, bootlicker!” “Oh, you wanna add some more kinks in there huh? I hope you know that costs eh… eh… eh… extra,” he said, holding off long enough to actually hit Striker this time. It was only his non-dominant arm, which didn’t seem to deter him much. But still, that was at least closer to target. Wait a minute, what was that about capture?

Blitz felt the lasso pulling him closer again. He was about to try wriggling out when he suddenly had a better idea. “HEH’TSCHIEEEW!” Striker recoiled in disgust as Blitz drenched his face, providing Blitz the opportunity to escape. “What the fuck?” “What, don’t wanna get a little wet? I thought that was the point?” Blitz said, flashing a grin as he leaped away.

His escape was short-lived, however, as he soon found himself frozen in the throes of another sneeze. “Heh’heh’hetschue! Itschh! Hah’tschew! Hit’SHEW!” That was enough time for Striker to tie him up and drop his gun to the ground, so Blitz resorted to his usual methods. “Ohhhhhhhh! Oh God that feels so good! I guess it really is true!” Blitz writhed and moaned underneath the rope.

And honestly? It did kind of feel good. Not the sneezing, necessarily, though he didn’t hate it. But the thrill of the fight. One doesn’t get into the business of assassination without some appreciation for the adrenaline rush. And his opponent had given him a new toy to play with—a challenge. It seemed like a detriment right now, but was there a way he could use it to his advantage? This would be fun.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough,” Striker said, dipping his tail once again. Blitz did a spit take that had far too much actual spit (and snot) for Striker’s liking. Striker shook himself like a wet dog and poked the powder-coated tail into Blitz’s other nostril. Blitz gasped. “Deeper!” Striker pulled out with a glare. “Shut yer trap,” he drawled. “Make me,” Blitz replied, sticking out his tongue. “I already did,” Striker said, his arms crossed. “Heh’tschh! Heh’itschuu! Hah’TSCHIEEEW!” “Kind of hard to talk when you need your breath for something else,” Striker retorted, smirking.

“Ok, are you sure you’re not trying to flirt with me?” Blitz asked. “Cause you seem pretty determined to insert some innue… eh… eh’tschieu! Innuendo.” Striker sighed. “Flirt with you? I’d rather fuck a cactus.” “Ooh, you like it rough, huh?” Blitz was contorting himself in all sorts of positions, trying to find an angle that would let him get at the knife in his boot.

Striker rolled his eyes, which meant his focus was diverted just long enough for Blitz to get that knife out… except it wasn’t there. Fuck! When did he lose his knife? Had Striker somehow taken it when he was distracted? Was Blitz really losing his edge that badly? Ugh, he should have listened to Moxxie’s pitch for the kind of knife that was built into the boot instead of just a pocket. And with that reverie, Blitz had lost his opening. Striker began pummeling him.

One hit for every time Blitz had hurt him. One hit for every time Blitz had wounded his body, or his pride, or… just a lot of hits, okay? And some kicks too while he was at it. He wanted this man bruised and bloody, but just conscious enough to remember how he’d lost. To remember who really was superior. Those rich assholes and the ones who supported them needed to remember their fucking place. Blitz wasn’t worth the dirt he walked on.

Blitz groaned, his mood as dark as the new bruises that were forming. He was going to need a new escape route. As he took in Striker’s ferocious grin, he remembered that sharp teeth could be quite good at cutting things. After a few chomps on the (disturbingly mucus-covered) rope, he realized this wasn’t going to get him out any time soon. Especially given that he had to keep pausing to sneeze. No, he would have to be smarter about this.

“Hey, cowboy! You haven’t seen my knife, have you?” “Oh, you mean this knife?” Striker waved his tail, brandishing the knife with a smirk. “Yeah I’ve seen it alright.” “Thanks!” Blitz replied cheerily, slipping out of his now cut ropes. “What the hell?” “You must be in love with yourself, cause you sure are blind!” Blitz chuckled. He knew he could count on Striker’s ego to overlook the obvious consequences of holding a knife close enough for Blitz to press the rope against it.

No, this wasn’t happening. He was Striker, goddammit! Fearsome assassin and skilled cowboy and whatever other shit that annoying little band liked to sing about him. He didn’t make mistakes. And he wasn’t going to lose! Certainly not to a pathetic little pissbaby like Blitz.

Blitz reached for the knife, but Striker had already backed out of arm’s reach, continuing to put distance between them as he resumed shooting. Blitz picked up his gun in return. The same gun that was trembling with every hitching breath. Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to aim like this? He ducked down for another sneeze, which worked out rather conveniently as another shot from Striker sped through the air where his head had just been.

On second thought, maybe Blitz didn’t need to aim at all - he didn’t need all the shots to hit, just one of them. He tried shooting more rapidly this time. The bullets were coming close, but not close enough. And he still had to keep leaping out of the way and hoping his nose didn’t betray him and give his opponent an opening. That exact betrayal happened a moment later, keeping him frozen for just long enough for a bullet to graze Blitz’s shoulder before he was moving again. Another shot from Blitz missed, but this time it gave him an idea. The shot went just over the top of a crate, one of many in the room.

“If you were half as good at shooting as you were at sucking blue-blood dick, you’d be out of here by now!” Striker sneered. “Pathetic.” “Says the man who had to level the playing field by fu… uh’tschh! Fucking me in the nose,” Blitz retorted, sniffling. This stuff was really strong. “Also, did you just compliment my blowjob skills? Are you sure you’re not hitting on me?” Blitz asked, clambering up the shelves. Striker hissed and continued shooting, but Blitz had squeezed himself in behind a box that proved to be surprisingly bulletproof.

How were Millie and Moxxie getting on? Blitz wondered as he took shelter. He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d told them he was going to pick up the shipment. They’d offered to come with him, but Blitz had insisted it was his job alone as the boss. “Just… stay home and fuck or something,” he’d said. Millie gave Moxxie a look, and Moxxie melted, nodding silently. Blitz hoped they were having fun without him. He’d find a way out of this eventually. He didn’t need anybody else.

Striker grabbed the box with his lasso and pulled, but it was heavier than he’d anticipated and it didn’t quite fall. Taking advantage of this momentary lapse in judgement (and Blitz’s momentary lapse in symptoms), Blitz executed his carefully planned shot. The box may have been invulnerable to penetration, but it was still affected by the momentum of a shot at point-blank range. The box hurtled through the air with alarming speed. Striker was so shocked by the absolute absurdity of it that his reaction was just a hair too slow. He jumped back and narrowly avoided being bludgeoned, but his guns weren’t so lucky.

Blitz chuckled. “I was hoping to crush your body,” he said, leaping down to meet his opponent again, “but crushing your spirit’s not bad, either.” Striker scanned the warehouse. There had to be more guns nearby, if he could just get to a crate…

Sweet victory, with everything I do. With each step he repeated the mantra in his head, trying to make it stick. He was a winner, nothing else. He would succeed. He was almost to a crate and by god, he was going to get those fucking guns.

Just as he took his last step to the crate, Striker felt the slam of Blitz shoving him into the shelving units. The knife dropped out of his tail from the force of the impact and slid across the floor. It seemed grabbing another weapon wasn’t exactly a viable option right now. No, that would have been too easy. But a little challenge would make the victory sweeter, he liked it hard. “I’m sure you do,” Blitz replied. Wait, had he said that last bit out loud?

Any revulsion or embarrassment Striker might have felt was pushed aside by the overwhelming sensation of Blitz pressed against him, wrists clenching with each hitching breath. Striker prepared his head to dodge, in case Blitz tried the same trick again - the cowboy was definitely not looking for a repeat spray.

What he hadn’t expected was for Blitz’s head to pitch so far forward that his horns dug right into Striker’s chest. As he felt his blood mix with mucus, he was seriously beginning to regret his life choices. He cursed his weakness as the disgust kept him paralyzed long enough for Blitz to rake his claws over his arms.

After a long and slimy struggle, Striker finally managed to tear free. Tear was definitely the operative word. Those gashing wounds were nothing to sneeze at (not like that would stop his opponent, though). Much as he wanted to lunge into a counterattack, he needed a moment to lick his wounds. No, not lick - he shuddered at the thought of how that would taste. But he needed to stop the bleeding somehow.

His expression soured even further when he realized what he had to do. He needed to stop the bleeding, and there were limited options available. He flung off his jacket. Blitz gave a long whistle that was cut off abruptly by a vigorous series of sneezes. As the imp tried to clear the irritant from his system, Striker removed his shirt and wrapped it around the wound in his chest. That still left his bleeding arms, though.

“Taking a break, huh?” Blitz taunted. “I knew you wanted to fuck me!” Striker growled, partially in response and partially in dread of what he was about to do. He dropped his pants, and Blitz’s eyebrows rose so high it looked as though they would launch above his head. Was he actually…?

Striker split the pants and wrapped one leg around each arm. Walking out of here at the end of this was going to be awkward. But he had more important things to focus on right now. He ripped open the nearest box in search of a gun, but it was only bullets. And there was no telling how long the powder would last—in his tests it seemed to vary quite a bit from person to person. He’d need to act quickly.

Blitz made a run for his knife, but Striker had gotten a head start. The cowboy pinned him to the floor. That same cowboy who was half naked. “So, did you bring lube or what? Hit’schhew! Never mind, I’ve got enough for both of—” Blitz’s remark was interrupted as Striker’s teeth dug through his neck. He avoided the throat, though. As much as he’d love to kill that bastard, Striker reminded himself that Blitz was of far more use to him alive. And besides, wasn’t the real goal to make his enemy suffer? He would say he was trying to humiliate his opponent, but that was rather hard to do with someone as shameless as Blitz. Still, seeing him helplessly sneeze over and over again did give him a certain sadistic satisfaction.

Striker forced himself to remember that as helpless as Blitz might appear, he was still a skilled opponent. He felt the imp’s body threatening to break free and knew he needed to raise the stakes. Striker stopped playing with his prey and moved the knife to hover over Blitz’s neck. His claws were nearby, ready to stop any attempts at an escape.

Blitz froze, trying to quell the hitching breaths. If his head pitched forward with a sneeze, he would be done for. Surely Striker had realized that, which made this threat an even higher risk. Was Striker genuinely prepared to kill him for this? Something about it just wasn’t sitting right with Blitz. Of course the cowboy had good reason to hate him, but would he really gain more from Blitz’s death than any other outcome? And if not, then why would he take the risk? “Ooh, that’s some nice edge play we’re getting into now! Real kinky today, aren’t we?” He fluttered his eyelashes seductively, but his body took the cue and his breath caught as the tickle he’d been holding back returned with a vengeance. Not yet, please! He just needed to hold out a little longer until Striker got bored or otherwise decided to change tactics.

Striker kept unwavering eye contact with his enemy. Fuck the plan. Fuck the bargaining chip. He wanted this man gone. It would be so easy. He was clearly powerless to escape in his current state. So then why hadn’t he slit Blitz’s throat yet? Why did the very idea feel so hollow? He would be happy to wipe Blitz from existence. But something was missing. Ah, right, the suffering. Death just wasn’t humiliating enough. And the possibilities for capturing Blitz were quite attractive: he could think of at least one person who’d gladly put himself in harm’s way to get his little “Blitzy” back. So, it was settled then.

Just as Striker had made up his mind to let Blitz live, Blitz’s neck got distressingly close to the blade. He could hold back the sneeze no longer, but the result surprised both of them. Instead of a knife coated in blood, Striker was instead holding a knife coated in mucus. Blitz must have taken the time during the buildup to figure out how to aim even with this strange angle. Striker somehow resisted the urge to drop the knife in disgust, but it didn’t matter. The knife was so slippery as to be impossible to control. Blitz leapt up and bit Striker hard in the shoulder. Striker shuddered from the unholy mix as Blitz sneezed directly into the wound. “I hope you get something real nasty, you piece of shit!”

This was not the plan. Goddammit! This was not how this was supposed to go. Blitz should be fully incapacitated by now, or at the very least writhing in agony. Instead, he was making a mockery of Striker. Even in what should have been his most helpless moment, he was continuing to fight back, finding new ways to inflict pain and humiliation.

This was not the plan. Christ on a fucking stick! This was not how he’d wanted his day to go. Blitz should be back at IMP headquarters by now, getting ready to blow humans’ heads off, or at the very least putting the merchandise away. Instead, his nose was making a fool out of him. He wasn’t quite helpless just yet, but his stamina was waning. There was no way he could win a war of attrition in this state, and yet he was grasping at straws to land a decisive blow.

Striker responded with a bite to Blitz’s hand, a decision that filled his mouth with snot and his mind with regret. He spat it out and hissed. “Ooh, somebody’s enjoying the bodily fluids! I got another one I can add to the mix for ya,” Blitz said with a wink as Striker raised his fists. He tried not to dwell on how the effort of smiling was actively draining. Instead he looked for an irritated reaction from Striker, taking that as his opening to flee.

As Blitz raced to the door, his mind replayed the fight. Why the fuck had he been so stubborn? Sure he could hold his own in a typical fight but this wasn’t a typical fight. As much as he’d love to wipe Striker’s smug smile off of his face and take him permanently out of commission, he needed to remember his primary objective: getting the fuck out of here. After all, what good was getting revenge on the one who hurt his friends if Blitz couldn't be there with his friends? So he kept running and running and running… god, this warehouse was huge! He hadn’t even made it out of the room and he felt like his lungs were going to give out. Sure, he was athletic for work, but it’s a bit different when your lungs are constantly focused on taking gasping breaths and forcefully expelling over and over and over again. Eventually, he had to catch his breath.

In the relative silence of his labored breath, his dulled senses picked up on a persistent beeping. He thought back to Crimson’s warehouse with Fizz and his breaths became shallow as panic set in. The realization came too late, for the forklift had already made contact with a shelf. As everything came crashing down, Blitz had one last thought: this sneezing was really fucking annoying.

[kithtaehyung]

BABBYYYYY, WHAT IS YOUR TIME ZONE AND WHAT TIME ARE YOU POSTING?! LOVE YOUU

WE DROP AT 9:03PM EST BABY❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[wiccawrites]

u did not hear this from me but au where kimchay meet a few years later in life, when Chay is a rising musician who joins a tv competition in the hopes of making his mainstream break and Wik has made such a huge impact in the music industry that he's invited to mentor and judge said competition!!!!!! Chay's confidence is shaky at the start but HEY GUESS WHO SAVES HIM AND GIVES HIM A CHANCE AT THE LAST MOMENT AND BECOMES HIS MENTOR?