#in a landslide win buddy

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

... I'm sorry ... what?????????????????????????

(The whole thread started with the guy complaining about people "now" calling Kyiv ... Kyiv - and not Kiev.)

Also, a new word for us dropped: Hitlerites.

[ayeforscotland]

Woke up to the results that labour took Falkirk and basically the elections, and I'm just sobbing intensely, it really shouldn't matter this much, but they've won using trans people like me as a Scape goat for actual problems

I hoped for at least labour having to buddy up with another party to win, but they've won by landslide. I don't know what to do, I'm worried about needing to seek political asylum if things keep getting worse here, what can we even do now? The country has basically voted against our existence in public.

I’m not going to pretend it’s not a shit result, gutted that we now have a Labour MP in Falkirk. He’s always struck me as a Labour briefcase who’ll follow whatever Starmer wants.

While I’m anxious about what Labour’s plans are, they’ll be fought every step of the way by good people.

We’ve now got a bunch of Labour MPs in Scotland to watch like hawks. We will be keeping an eye on their votes, and voting against their constituents, and Scotland’s, interests will bring about their downfall.

You’re not alone, keep the heid and let’s get stuck into them.

[juniepops]

learning more and more about the drake-kdot beef and it's so apparent to me that no matter what there is to say about the music itself, no matter who you believe with the accusations and allegations, no matter how else you feel about either artist, the sheer culture on kendrick's side makes it impossible to argue he didn't win in a landslide. throwing the whole juneteenth pop out concert with all the celebrities who attended or performed, from old buddies of drake's like lebron james to rap giants like dr dre, as well as getting all the gangs together dancing to not like us on stage, and then turning around and shooting a music video calculated to refute any diss against him that held water. the way not like us became like. hold on a delivery truck literally just pulled up outside my window blasting it!!! talk about timing. anyway the way it's become such an emblematic sound of the summer, an instant club classic, people turn up to parties bumping a song all about how much drake sucks. snoop dogg going on ig live and calling dot the new king of hip hop. there's just no coming back ever

[lemotmo]

https://www.tumblr.com/lemotmo/766380559940403200/well-to-all-my-american-friends-come

Honestly I’m so beyond disappointed in my country as a nation. This should have been a landslide for her. Like there should have been no doubt if she would or wouldn’t win tonight. And the fact it isn’t is disappointing and disgusting. Like people would really rather see that man back in office then let a highly intelligent and qualified woman do the job. I’ve been sick to my stomach most of the night from stress because I’m so worried about my basic human rights being ripped away from me. And my friends basic human rights being ripped away from them. I need to go to bed because I still have to go to work in the morning but I’m legit terrified to go to sleep and see what I wake up to at this point.

And like people really wondered why things like Tommy’s past was completely brushed off? Or why Gerard got a happy ever after ending? Prime example of why right here. Everyone is seeing exactly why in real time.

And at this point it’s bottom of my worries because of everything else but if he wins then honestly kiss buddie goodbye. He’ll outlaw queer everything so fast and has already made mentions of having tv network licenses revoked if they say things he disagrees with. What network is ever going to want to risk it with threats like that looming over them.

There's really nothing I can (or frankly even want to) say at this.

I'm so sorry. 😞

🫂🫂🫂

❤️❤️❤️

[ame-ellee]

thinking about yandere!football captain

- tall, classicly handsome, and of course, ripped

- he notices you in passing on the way to class one day, when he takes a different route than normal to avoid his toxic ex

- he tracks you with his eyes, wondering how he never saw you before

- then you disappear around the corner, and he snaps out of it to his buddies asking his opinion on something or other

-by the end of day, he makes up his mind to find out more about you

-you already followed/had him added him on social media, as you had a class together once, so he followed you back and investigated your profiles

- he surmised that like any other woman at the school, you would fall at his feet when he gave you the slightest attention

- but he didn’t want to give his motive up too soon, waiting to see if he really wanted to pursue it

- so he instead observed from a distance, and as it magically seems to happen when you’re interested in someone, your name pops up more in conversation/ in his life.

- he soon had enough of just tidbits and glimpses of your life, so he followed you after school, skipping conditioning because he had a “headache”

- as he watched you, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that drew him so much. this was the most attention and care he’d given to a girl ever, and you two weren’t even dating. hell, he was beginning to wonder if you even knew he existed.

- so he began to close in. going deliberately out of his to pass the same way during passing period, even transferring into a class he knew you had in the new semester

- he purposefully beat you to class on the first day (he started some beef between his friends in the hallway he knew you had to pass through)

- you had to sit in the only available seat, next to him, and as those first day seating arrangements go, you just keep sitting there

- he is *trying to be* the epitome of chill, only asking the occasional question or comment. he is on good behavior in the class, not interrupting and actually paying attention.

- he only realizes how absolutely whipped he is when you shoot him a shy smile one day, and he feels like his heart is bursting out of chest and he begins to feel feverish

- needless to say, that mental image of that smile was enough to keep him and his fist occupied for a week, minimum.

-once that wore out though, it wasn’t enough

-next time he saw you at one of his games, he couldn’t hold back…

they had just won by a landslide, lead by his excellence as a quarterback. he scanned the crowd of faces, blurring the rest out until he saw yours. you were smiling, giddy off the crowd’s energy and the win. he finally smiled, his first time the whole game, after seeing your smile.

he rushes out the locker room, just wearing that ungodly tight muscle tee and his uniform bottoms. He sees your face in the crowd, and he sees an opening when your friends are distracted, and grabs your arm, yanking you out of the fray and into the bushes.

his large hand covers your eyes and you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he asks “guess who”

it sounded like him…but no. why would he do that? “um…i don’t know?”

a laugh from rumbled against your back again.“aww c’mon…i thought we were friends”

his hand lifted from your eyes and he oh-so-gently tilted your head up to look at him.

he laughed at the look of confusion on your face, and you could feel every slab of muscle shift against your back.

he leaned down and whispered “hey there”

“hi?”

he planted a kiss on your forehead. really you’re too cute. of course, as you had no idea what he wanted from you, you simply just asked “…what was that?”

god, he couldn’t hold back anymore. he grabbed your hips and twisted you up and around so your faces were level. you felt a bulge begin to form against your lower half.

his intentions were becoming all too clear, and before you could finish your stuttered protest, he slammed his lips into yours.

he had caught you by surprise, so you just simply let him devour your mouth, sucking, nipping. Once he was satisfied, he moved down to your neck, and your fingers curled into your hair. he found a sweet spot, and you couldn’t stop your moan. his smile curled into that same spot, and he kept attacking it with kisses and you knew it would be a massive hickey at the end of this.

but as the headlights flashed through the bushes, he realized he had to go. one last peck, and a piece of paper slipped into your hand, and he sat you down as you were dizzy with the heat of the moment. you had simply been in shock the whole time, and he took your lack of response to his attack as consent. as you began to process, you looked at the paper in your hand XXX-XXX-XXXX and a single text me.

a.n. - this got a lot longer than i thought! but second post is done!

[coopigeoncoo]

A Persistent Lack of Follow Through, Chapter 2: Salvage & Repair

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

Rating: Mature 18+

Tags: Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Personal Growth, Drinking, Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Weddings, Child Abuse, Todoroki Enji's Bad Parenting, Abusive Todorioki Enji, Pining, Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Natural Disasters, Fire, Serious Injuries, Domestic Fluff, Implied Pregnancy

---

Shouto had learned a lot from his Father; how to take a hit, how to pull himself back up, and how to hold a grudge.

But one thing Endeavor could never teach his children was how to be a good partner.

Shouto had to learn that particular skill the hard way.

---

He had spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left. Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached:

"I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.

---

A story where Shouto loves, loses, and learns.

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Shouto's deployment lasted far longer than he would have liked.  They had managed to suppress the blazes in under a week.  Heroes with fire based Quirks set about burning long stretches of untouched vegetation to create firebreaks while ice and water elemental Quirks worked on suppressing and extinguishing blazes that tried to jump the firewalls.  

It was exhausting work, but the hard labor and long hours kept him from thinking about his newly single status during the day and ensured that he was too tired to dream after he fell into his cot at night.  They had been packing up, ready to return to Japan when the call from his PR team came in.  

Animal rescue workers had found a juvenile Koala injured in the blaze, the skin around its left eye seared by a falling branch while it tried to escape to safety. They wanted him to come in and do a photoshoot to raise funds for the wildfire relief fund, the two of them a matching reminder about the lasting damage fire leaves behind.  

The original run of promotional materials were wildly successful and Shouto found his return flight pushed back again and again; a never-ending cycle of talk show spots and community appearances with Kodoroki (which had been the winning name in an online poll by a landslide).  As much as Shouto disliked being in the center ring of the media circus, the worst part of the entire ordeal was having to call his Father every few days to inform him of his further delays.  Endeavour had agreed to watch over Shouto's agency in his absence, and while he was long retired and unable to do any of the field work, his Father was a competent executive and everything was always in good working order upon his return.  

The first photoshoot with Kodoroki had been an awkward affair, neither Shouto nor the koala quite sure what to make of each other.  But as the weeks dragged on they had become more comfortable and Shouto found himself looking forward to being reunited with his little burned buddy each morning; greeting the young koala with a smile and eagerly awaiting the moment when his handlers would pass him into Shouto's awaiting arms.  

"Morning, Kodoroki," Shouto smiled, taking the joey into his arms while the photography team circled around him went wild.  "This is going to be our last day together, so let's make it a good one, okay?"

Kodoroki yipped in response, his claws wrapping around the belts slung around his shoulders as he clung to Shotou’s chest.  Having grown up without pets, Shouto had never understood why so many people were drawn to animals.  But after spending so much time with Kodoroki and experiencing the warm comfort an animal could provide he thought that maybe he was starting to understand the appeal a little.  His heart always felt a little bit lighter when Kodoroki was in his arms.  

"Maybe I should think about getting a pet when I get home," Shouto mused, shifting his grip on Kodoroki in between photos with the group of waiting politicians hovering around the corner of the room.

"Not a koala though.  You're kind of stinky," Shouto crinkled his nose while tapping Kodoroki's forehead.  "Also, I'm fairly sure keeping you would be illegal."

Unimpressed, Kodoroki grunted indignantly before releasing a particularly ripe fart that left the Senator next to him gagging.

"See? This is what I'm talking about, Kodoroki," Shouto coughed, fanning the air in front of his face while one of the handlers cracked a window open.  "You're not meant for polite society."

Shouto had been so used to coming up with reasons to visit Deku's agency to see you that it was strange to shift out of that mindset.  Sidekicks were sent to retrieve paperwork, meetings were attended via video call, and everything else was shoved into emails routed directly to Deku's personal devices.

But having to visit the Number One Hero's agency was inevitable in their line of work.  So with his shoulders set in false confidence, Shouto forced a neutral expression onto his face and set out towards Deku's office.  He had practiced this greeting in his head a thousand times; what he'd say, how you'd respond, wondering if you'd be happy to see him.  Or mad.  Or sad, like he was.  

He felt like he had prepared for every eventuality except the one he was confronted with: someone who wasn't you.

"Ah, hello?" He greeted the stranger, a bleary eyed man who looked like he hadn't had a good night's rest since the day he was born. Energy bar wrappers were scattered across the surface of your- his , desk and the small wastebasket beside him was overflowing with crushed coffee cans.  

"Hello, Hero Shouto," the man yawned, covering his open mouth with his hand and bobbing his head in Shouto's direction. "Deku is expecting you.  You can go ahead and enter.  After knocking, obviously.  Everyone should knock," the man whispered, his eyes dipping shut as he slumped down in his chair.  "Knock…knock…"

"Of course," Shouto agreed softly, lightly rapping on Deku's door before slipping inside.  

"Shouto!" Izuku cheered, lunging out of his chair to throw his arms around his friend in a crushing hug.  "It's been too long!  It's so good to see you!"

"It has been," Shouto agreed, patting his friend's back stiffly, always unsure about what to do with his hands in situations like this.  

"So," Izuku began awkwardly, pulling back from the too-long embrace with a pained grimace on his face.  "How're you holding up?  Since, well… you know."

"Not great, honestly," Shouto sighed, picking at a loose thread at the cuff of his uniform.  "It's been hard without her.  Really hard.  I didn't realize just how much of my life revolved around her until it suddenly didn't."

His eyes watered, despite his best effort to hold things together.  "I really miss her.  And as nervous as I was to come here, I was also looking forward to seeing her- making sure she was alright."

"I'm sorry," Izuku sighed, running a hand through his hopelessly tousled hair.  "She asked for a temporary transfer to another department while things…settle down between you guys.  She didn't want to make it harder for you, having to see her all the time."

Shouto was roughly struck by how much he both loved and hated your thoughtfulness at this moment in time.  

"Takai down in Accounting agreed to take her on for a while and sent up his guy to replace her," Izuku explained, eyeing the door to his office worryingly, the distant sound of sobbing filtering in through the cracks.  "I'm…not sure he's adjusting well to the switch.  It's a bit more stressful than he's used to, I think."

His friends had assured him that the pain he was feeling would fade with time, that he needed to be patient and eventually he'd begin to heal. 

So, he waited.

He waited to stop anticipating your cheerful greeting with bated breath when he came home after work each night.  He waited to stop reaching over to your side of the bed at night, desperate to feel the familiar press of your skin against his.  He waited for the urge to text you pictures of things he saw on patrol to pass, knowing how much you'd love to see how much the tagger on the East side of the city had been improving.  

Shouto waited and waited and waited , but if anything the time spent away from you just seemed to compound his misery instead of alleviate it.  He spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left.  Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached: 

"I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.  

"I'm sure that's not true," Yaomomo consoled him, reaching across the booth to pat his hand comfortingly.  

"I was ," Shouto whined, slumping down in his seat so Mina could pass a drink to Ochako over his head.  She was only mildly successful and ended up spilling some of her cocktail into his hair.

"Whoopsie!  Sorry about that, Shouto!" Mina grimaced, taking a hold of her cocktail glass with another hand to steady her grip while Ochako sipped from an unreasonably long crazy straw.

"It's fine," Shouto sighed as another glob of frozen margarita hit his head and began sliding down his neck.  "I probably deserve it anyway for the way I treated her."

"Okay, look.  Maybe you weren't a good boyfriend," Mina said, dropping down in her seat while Yaomomo shot her a disapproving glare.  "I don't know, I wasn't there.  But you can't keep beating yourself up over this- it's not healthy!"

"Right!" Ochako chimed in while indicating to the waitress she wanted two of whatever Mina was drinking.  "You made mistakes, but you acknowledge that you were in the wrong.  That's growth, Shouto!"

"Maybe," Shouto said mulishly, tearing the corner of the label he had been picking at fully off the bottle.  

"Did you apologize?" Yaomomo asked softly, taking a dainty sip from her wine glass.

"No, I haven't.  We haven't talked since my Australia mission," Shouto explained as he tore his strip of label into tiny pieces of confetti.  "Do you think I should?"

"Do you feel like you have something to apologize for?" Yaomomo inquired as she tucked a lock of hair behind Jiro's ear, tracing a finger gently down her elongated lobe.  Jiro, who was totally sober but utterly exhausted, had ended up falling asleep with her head on the table despite the raucous atmosphere of the bar they occupied.  Shouto watched, utterly transfixed at the natural show of casual intimacy, and couldn't help but remember your silent disappointment every time he dropped your hand and stepped away when his friends entered the room.  

Is this what he had been so afraid of?  His friends seeing how much he cared for you?  It had felt so important at the time, keeping you tucked away into the private facets of his life, that he didn't even consider what he was missing by doing so.  Would you have looked at him that tenderly?  Found little ways to touch him in public to let him know you cared?  

Shouto had been so worried about showing vulnerability to the people in his life that he needed to be strong for; afraid that they would somehow find his newfound softness to be detrimental, that they would suddenly find him a liability.

You made him feel weak when all he knew was how to be strong, and the thought of being seen as anything other than what he had been created to be- useful, powerful, terrified him.  

He didn't see any of those things when he looked at Yaomomo and Jiro.  All he saw was his friends, happy and in love; and all he felt was the icy vice of regret constricting on his heart.

"Yes," Shouto swallowed, remorse thick and unmoving in his throat.  "I think I have a lot to apologize for."

Shouto had accomplished many difficult things in his life.  He'd survived an abusive childhood, escaped multiple attempts at fratricide as a teenager, and managed to muster up the necessary strength to begin building a tentative relationship with his Father as an adult.  These days Shouto could occupy the same room as Enji for nearly forty minutes before the urge to strangle him became too overwhelming, which was positively cordial by Todoroki family standards.

The combined difficulty of all those accomplishments paled in comparison to the one that sat before Shouto at this very moment: texting his ex-girlfriend.  He must have started the message a dozen times, trying varying levels of formality before deleting everything he wrote in frustration.  

I'm sorry.

I know this is all my fault.

Please forgive me.

I wish we were still together.

I can't stop thinking of you.

Do you wake up every day as sad as I do?  

All those messages were true, but discarded all the same.  It took all evening, but he finally came up with a message he was moderately happy with; hitting send before he could second guess himself.

Shouto, 8:57pm "I miss talking with you."

Shouto's chest clenched with anticipation as dots bounced across his phone screen, awaiting your incoming response.

Deku's Assistant, 8:58pm "I miss talking with you, too."

A wave of self-loathing rolled through him as your contact name flashed across his screen.  Had he really not even bothered to change your profile name when you'd started dating?  He really did manage to bungle pretty much every aspect of your relationship, didn't he?  You must have really cared for him to put up with his callousness for so long.  

Deku's Assistant, 8:58pm "I've really been missing our friendship."

Shouto, 8:58pm "Me too." "Do you think enough time has passed for us to start talking again?"

Anxious minutes rolled by as Shouto awaited your response.

Deku's Assistant, 9:05pm "I don't know.  But I think I want to try."

Shouto's heart soared as his fingers flew across his screen, the jubilant smile stretched across his face so wide that his cheeks ached.  

Shouto, 9:07pm "Oh, thank goodness.  I have so many pictures I need to show you."

send: img_7895

Deku's Assistant, 9:08pm "Is that the cat near the Chinese Restaurant??"

Shouto, 9:08pm "Yes!  It turns out that she was pregnant, not fat."

Deku's Assistant, 9:09pm "I feel so bad making fun of her chunky tummy now."

Shouto, 9:09pm "Do you want to see her babies?"

Deku's Assistant, 9:09pm "YES!!!!"

The joy of regaining your friendship was a balm to Shouto's soul.  He still longed for the intimacies you had shared and was pretty sure he would vividly remember the feeling of your teeth nibbling on his lower lip until his dying day.  But being able to talk with you about his work or offer a sympathetic ear while you vented about your temporary reassignment was positively elating after months of separation.  

Currently, you were recounting a run-in with the catty Senior Receptionist in the Marketing Department, something that had been happening with increasing frequency the past couple of weeks.  

"I have no clue what I did to offend her, if anything.  Maybe she just doesn't like me for some reason?" You sighed into the phone, the distant sound of keys jingling filling Shouto's ears.  

"Impossible," Shouto scoffed as he opened up the fridge to peruse for something to heat up for dinner.  "Everybody likes you."

"That's not at all true, but I'll take the compliment.  I need it after today," you groaned, a sound Shouto knew accompanied you arriving home and sliding off your uncomfortable work shoes.

"Have you given any thought to transferring back to your old job?" Shouto asked, peeling back the corner of a container of leftovers to give the food inside a tentative sniff.  

"I, uh, yes.  Actually.  I'm going to be transferring back later this week," you stammer, oddly nervous about such a mundane topic.  

"Really?" Shouto pried, setting his container of food down on the counter to focus his attention on you.  "That's sudden."

"It's been in the works for a couple of weeks now, actually.  I just…didn't know how to bring it up."

"Because we'll be seeing each other in person again?" 

"A little, maybe?  But I'm mostly moving back for HR Reasons," you said, inhaling deeply before continuing.  "Takai and I have…started seeing each other."

"Oh," Shouto breathed, stunned by your admission.  He knew that the two of you weren't dating anymore, but the sudden realization that you would be seeing other people sent him reeling completely off balance; scrambling to grasp his counter for support.

"I'm sorry," you said, tone anxious and shaky.  "I should have told you sooner, but things had been going so well and I didn't want to bring it up and ruin everything-"

"No," Shouto interrupted.  "You didn't do anything wrong.  Your personal life isn't any of my business.  Not anymore."

"I- I'm so glad," you sniffle.  "I don't know if I could bear not talking to you again."

"Does he…does Takai make you happy?" Shouto asked despite his better judgment.  There was no way that your answer would satisfy him.  But some part of his heart, the self-destructive portion that kept accepting Fuyumi's invitations to family dinners, needed to know.  

"He does, Shouto.  He really does."

"I'm glad," Shouto lied, sinking slowly to the floor as his knees gave way.  "I need to go now.  Dinner awaits."

You bid your farewells and disconnected, leaving Shouto slumped against his fridge with the chill of his kitchen tiles seeping down into his bones.  

It was one thing to know you were dating another man, but seeing it in person turned out to be another matter entirely.  Shouto wasn't prepared for the sour sting of jealousy that curdled in his belly when he exited the elevator at Deku's agency and saw Takai doubled over, lips pressed firmly against yours.  You pulled away first, positively beaming up at him while you adjusted his tie before he straightened up to his full height and put himself out of reach of your tender ministrations.  

You returned to your chair and startled once you registered Shouto's presence in your work space.

"Oh!  Shouto!  I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were here," you grimaced, nervously turning a pen in your hands to distract from the awkward situation you suddenly found yourself plunged into.  You weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to officially introduce a new boyfriend to your ex, but having them drop in while you were kissing likely wasn't the best approach.  

"It's alright," Shouto assured you with a brittle smile, nodding tersely to Takai who returned the gesture with a smug grin.  Shouto wanted to hate him for it, but remembered he'd done the same when he was in Takai's position; bolstered with pride from being on the receiving end of your affection.    

With a parting wave, Shouto slid into Deku's office, collapsing into one of his empty chairs and burying his face into his hands, tears slipping through the gaps in his fingers while his friend scrambled for a tissue box.  

"Shouto!" Izuku cried out, shoving a handful of crumpled tissues under his nose.  "What happened?"

"I- I've really lost her for good, haven't I?" Shouto croaked, taking the wad of tissues from Deku's hand and sloppily mopping at his cheeks.  

"I think so," Izuku whispered, eyes misting sympathetically as he rubbed a calloused hand between Shouto's shoulder blades as he cried.  

Likely sensing how uncomfortable running into your boyfriend had made Shouto, you had gone out of your way to minimize the amount of contact between the two of them.  You didn't mention Takai during your daily calls or texts unless necessary and Shouto hadn't run into the two of you together since that disastrous day in Deku's office, likely because you were maneuvering them around each other like a chess grandmaster shuffled pieces around the board.

While he knew that he would eventually have to get used to Takai if the two of you were to remain friends, Shouto still appreciated your willingness to give him space while he did so.  He always admired that kindness and compassion in you and would never admit that your efforts were ultimately futile because he would never grow accustomed to seeing someone else occupying the place at your side where he used to stand; the place where he still very much wanted to be.

Shouto reveled in this false world he had crafted around the two of you; where Takai existed somewhere in the periphery of his mind, a distant problem he need not consider unless absolutely necessary.  He knew more about you now than he ever did when you were together, the past distance between the two of you giving Shouto a newfound appreciation for every bit of time you spent together.  For the first time since your breakup, it felt like Shouto was approaching something that resembled peace in his life.

That happiness he felt, the equilibrium he had achieved, all came crashing down dramatically one unremarkable Thursday evening during your daily chat as you walked the final leg of your commute home from work. 

"Shouto.  I need to tell you something," you began, a serious set to your words that put Shouto instantly on edge.

"What is it?"

"Takai asked me to marry him," you confessed.  "And I said yes."

"I- that's," Shouto paused in the middle of the sidewalk, people dodging around him with peevish glares as he struggled to reign in his racing thoughts.  "That's… great ."

"I didn't want you to hear it from someone else," you explained, voice suddenly muting as you pulled away from the phone to talk briefly with someone else.  "I have to go.  Some people down in Accounting are taking us out to celebrate."

"Have fun," Shouto croaked.  "And Congratulations.  Takai is a lucky man."

"Thank you," you whisper, a smile audible in the timbre of your voice.  "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Have a good time.  And be safe."

"I will.  Bye, Shouto."

"Good-bye," Shouto whispered, the sound of the dial tone fading seamlessly into the ringing in his ears as he spun on his heel and walked through the doorway of the closest bar.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Mr. Deku, Sir," the bartender bladders, wringing his bar towel nervously with his clawed hands.  "I just- I didn't know who else to call?  This is just my second week working here and the manager never really covered what to do when a Pro Hero won't leave?  And I've seen you and Shouto together a lot on TV, so I figured that you might be friends and know how to handle this, but now that you're here I just realized that you probably have way more important stuff to do-"

Deku cut off the young man's panicked monologue with a raised hand and reassuring smile.  

"You did the right thing by calling me.  I'll take it from here, okay?  Finish up whatever it is you need to do to close up and I'll be sure to have Shouto out by the time you're done."

"Yes, of course!  Thank you!" The bartender shouted, scrambling off to carry a tray of used glasses back into the kitchen.  Once he disappeared behind the back room door the smile slid from Izuku's face as he took in his long time friend, slumped over the bar with his head buried in his folded arms.  With a heavy sigh, Izuku slid onto the stool next to Shouto, the metal squealing in protest at his added weight.  

"Hey, Shouto," Izuku greeted, patting his friend's shoulder firmly. "It's time to go.  You've more than worn out your welcome here, I'm afraid."

"Iz'ku?" Shouo slurred, rolling his head to face Deku with fiercely squinted eyes.  "When'd ya get here?"

"Just a moment ago."

"Oh.  Tha's a shame," Shouto sighed.  "If you got here eerly- earlly- sooner, we coulda had a drink t'gether."

"How about we drink these?" Izuku asked, fishing two large bottles of water out of his backpack and depositing one in front of Shouto.  Nose crinkled in distaste, Shouto cracked the seal on his bottle and started sipping, his hand icing over too cool down the water to his preferred chilly temperature.  They sat in a companionable silence, slowly working through their drinks and watching a replay of yesterday's baseball game on the TV hung crookedly from the ceiling above the bar's framed liquor license.  

"My ex- she's gettin' married," Shouto said, drawing a finger through a bead of condensation along the bar top.  

"I know.  The entire office was in an uproar over it.  She brought me a slice of cake."

"Was it good?"

"It was alright," Izuku shrugged.  "A little dry, but the icing made up for it.

"Tha's good.  She deserves good things.  All the good things," Shouto nodded, the weight of his own head surprising him as it flopped from front to back.  

"Takai is good for her," Deku said, swinging back the last of his water before slipping the empty bottle back into his bag.  

"Takai," Shouto hissed.  "Wha' makes him so special anyway?  Why does she like him better than me?  He's too tall!  I bet his Grandfather was a pair of stilts."

"Shouto!  I know you're sad, but that's no excuse to be cruel.  Takai is a good man who treats her well," Izuku chided, poking the arm Shouto was holding his water with to remind him to keep drinking.  Reluctantly, Shouto took another mouthful of water, swishing it between his cheeks thoughtfully.   

"He treats her better than I ever did."

"He does," Izuku agreed sadly.

"I wish- I wish I could go back.  Do it all different.  Do y'know someone with a time travel Quirk?"

"I- yes, actually," Izuku admitted reluctantly.  "But I'm not going to let you create an alternate timeline because your ex moved on and you're sad about it."

"Ugh," Shouto grunted. "Why do you always have to be so reapons- responsible?"

"Comes with the job, I'm afraid.  You're supposed to be responsible too, you know."

"Lame," Shouto sighed, throwing back the last of his water and passing the empty bottle to Deku. 

"Sure is," Izuku laughed.  "I thought Pro Heroes were so cool growing up, but it turns out we're all a bunch of party pooping killjoys."

"So wha' am I s'posed to do now?"

"Well, that depends," Deku huffed, scratching at his chin thoughtfully.  "Were you just friends with her because you were hoping to get back together with her someday?"

"No," Shouto cried emphatically.  "I won't lie an' say I wasn't hoping for that, but I'm friends with her because we're good friends.  She's good.  And she makes me want to be gooder."

"That's… good, " Izuku snorted, amused at his friend's expense.  

"Yeah," Shouto grinned enthusiastically, his eyes glossy and unfocused. "It is!"

"So if she's a good friend, you need to be a good friend in return.  Talk to her.  Support her.  But step back and take a breather if it gets to be too much for you to handle.  There's no need for you to set yourself on fire here."

"Unless's an emergency," Shouto muttered seriously, staring down at his left hand in contemplation.  "I'm definitely supposed to light m'self on fire in an emergency.  That's half my job."

Unwavering romantic feelings aside and unmentioned, things were going relatively well between you and Shouto.  Once the initial shock of your engagement wore off, he was able to resume calling and messaging you on a regular basis.  He did need to take a few days off of work when your wedding invitation arrived at his apartment, a simple but elegantly penned note printed on crisp ivory paper that overwhelmed him with thoughts of a future he wasn't prepared to deal with at that particular moment in time.  

But he liked to think he was handling things much better these days.  

"Hey, Natsuo?" Shouto called, holding up two delicate plates for inspection.  "Which china set best conveys the message 'Congratulations, but I secretly hope your marriage fails so I can have a second chance with you?'  Is it Wedgwood?"

"Lemme see," Natsuo said as he took the plates into his hand, angling them to and fro under the dim store lights to get a better look at the delicate patterns.  

"Shouto," Fuyumi scolded gently, returning a pale blue tea cup to the display shelf. "There's no need to put yourself through this.  We can just order something off the registry and call it a day."

"No," Shouto said firmly, picking up a salad plate and immediately setting it down with a disapproving frown.  "I want to do this for her."

"Alright," Fuyumi sighed in defeat, wandering over to a display of shining silver teapots.  "How about one of these?"

"It needs to be china," Shouto insisted, staring critically at an oval serving platter with a brocade print running along the rim.  

"It reminds me of her."

"You're gonna' need to elaborate on that, Little Bro," Natsuo drawled, his attention still primarily focused on the plates Shouto had passed to him.  

"She's…delicate, but strong," Shouto explained, running a finger admiringly across the golden rim of a gravy boat.  "And even though you see her every day, you're still stuck by her beauty- a timeless elegance you can't help but admire."

"Shouto," Fuyumi cooed, clutching the teapot to her chest.  "That's so sweet!"

"Also, dishes are something you use repeatedly.  So if I give them to her I guarantee she'll have to think of me during every meal," Shouto grinned deviously. 

"I think you definitely want the Wedgwood then," Natsuo confirmed, sliding the rejected plate back into its stand.  "It's too expensive for her to give away without feeling guilty."

"Perfect!" Shouto beamed, waving the dinner plate in the air and using it to flag down a passing salesperson, their face instantly paling as they witnessed the lack of care Shouto was showing their unpurchased merchandise.  

"You shouldn't have encouraged him to be so petty," Fuyumi chastised, walloping Natsuo soundly on the bicep.  

"Hey!" He winced, rubbing at the spot his sister hit.  "This is the most excited Shouto has been in months.   If buying spite plates makes him happy, then who am I to judge?" Natsuo shrugged, fishing his phone from his jacket pocket to check on his missed messages.  

"I guess," Fuyumi mused, chewing on her lip.  "It's pretty harmless in the end, right?  She gets a nice set of dinnerware and Shouto is satisfied."

"Yep," Natuso agreed, still engrossed in his phone.  

"I'll go help him pick out some wrapping paper then," Fuyumi smiled, shuffling off to look at the display wall of wrapping options while the salesperson who had been helping Shouto rang up his purchase with a dazed expression, unable to do the mental math to calculate just how high their commission was going to be.  

To say that Shouto became increasingly distracted as your wedding day drew near was a profound misrepresentation of events.  Emotionally, he was in shambles and it was beginning to impact his work.  Distracted and slow, he was taking more hits than ever before and limping home after clocking out more often than not.  His sidekicks had taken it upon themselves to make sure he never patrolled alone; creating an unofficial schedule that kept him under someone's watchful eye every shift for the foreseeable future.  

They thought they were being secretive about it, but the signup sheet was just taped up on the wall of the sidekick locker room.  The custodian had discovered it the day it was initially hung and reported it to him immediately. Shouto had been so touched by his subordinates' show of concern for his well-being that he ignored their less than clandestine whispering and did his best to pretend to be unaware of their scheming.  He was absolutely indulging them, but he also appreciated their constant company more than he could adequately express.  

It was hard to be alone right now.

So when they were alerted to a villain attack a couple blocks away, the odds were in their favor; a top ranking hero with a familiar partner in tow usually made for a devastating combination most villains didn't stand a chance against.  

But it seemed like everything that could have possibly gone wrong did.  Physical attacks from both him and Ice Pick, his sidekick du jour, weren't landing.  Their Quirks were sluggish and misfiring, Ice Pick had lost her footing and stumbled into his side; knocking him off balance as well.  The evidence was quickly pointing to some sort of luck manipulation Quirk that they had no idea how to counter. 

"Any ideas, Boss?" Ice Pick panted, sending a blast of needle-sharp icicles the Villain's way and screeching in frustration when they all miraculously managed to miss their target.  

"Nothing immediately comes to mind," Shouto grunted, ducking behind a parked car to take stock of the situation.  "I think our best course of action is to keep him distracted until backup arrives.  Call back to the agency and make sure whoever is en route is equipped with Quirk repressing gear."

"Roger that!"

Shouto rolled out from his cover, throwing out a flare blast he knew wouldn't connect, but would hopefully drive the villain away from the cram school he had been encroaching on.  Ice Pick, having finished relaying messages back to headquarters, was quick to return to his side.  

"Back up due to arrive momentarily."

Shouto opened his mouth to respond to her, but caught sight of something in the distance that pulled his attention away.  Speeding towards the villain in front of them at breakneck speed was what looked like a cannonball, but with a slight wobble around the edges like it wasn't fully solid.  Given what he ascertained about the trajectory of projectiles lobbed at the villain, Shouto knew it would never connect with its intended target and would instead deflect right towards where Ice Pick was standing.  

"WATCH OUT," Shouto bellowed, pushing Ice Pick out of the way and coating his right side in a thick layer of ice to absorb the force of the impending blow.  The projectile made contact and swept Shouto off his feet and sent him flying backwards off of the street and through the glass window of a nearby shop.  High pitched screeches and cries rang out around him as he finally came skidding to a stop in the middle of the floor, large groups of women scrambling to escape the destruction he left in his wake.  Employees wearing bright fluorescent vests were doing their best to funnel the panicking customers back through the emergency exit, but a few stragglers hung back to record the goings on with their cell phones until the very last moment.    

With a groan, Shouto pushed himself up into a sitting position, hand darting up tenderly cradle his obviously broken ribs with a pained hiss.  

"Shit," he swore lowly, ignoring the sharp pains in his side and the crackling sound that accompanied every breath.  

"Shouto!" he heard someone scream through the ringing in his ears, assuming it was Ice Pick rushing to his aide as he slowly shifted until he was on all fours, grasping onto the arm of a nearby chair to keep upright as his vision wavered.  

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You screech, pushing down on his shoulders to keep him from attempting to pull himself up into a standing position.  "You are seriously injured, Shouto!  Stay down !"

Shouto's head snapped towards you, which was a mistake because the sudden movement made a wave of nausea roll through him.  Swallowing down the bile creeping up his esophagus, he was able to finally focus his attention on you.  If it wasn't for his agonizing injuries Shouto was fairly certain he would have thought he was in heaven as you knelt next to him, an absolute vision in a white dress with delicately pearls glimmering in the fluctuating light from the emergency strobe lamps.  

"What are you doing here?" Shouto managed to mumble, distracted by the delicate swooping of your exposed collar bone.  He always loved running kisses across it- you always laughed while he did so, scrunching up your shoulders and burrowing in on yourself in an attempt to protect the delicate flesh from his wandering lips.  

He missed that.

He also missed what you were just saying.

"-on wedding dresses."

"Oh," Shouto wheezed, blinking at you owlishly.  "You look really beautiful."

"Thanks," you smiled, pushing on his shoulders until he was laying down on the floor, his head pooled in the fluffy fabric of your skirt, staring up at you with a dopey grin.  "You know, if you wanted to come dress shopping with me you could have just asked.  This is a bit dramatic even for you."

Shouto barked out a laugh and then immediately groaned as his lungs sharply protested his sudden mirth.  "Stop being charming," Shouto chided, eyes tracing over the tucks and folds of the bodice of your dress. "I can't handle you at full power right now."

"I'll tone it down then," you sniffled, running a shaking hand through his mussed hair, pulling out tiny slivers of glass with careful fingers and flicking them behind you carelessly.  

"Is this it?" Shouto mumbled, his lips slick with a mixture of spittle and blood.  

"Is what it?  What do you mean?" You asked worriedly, prying and eyelid open to examine his pupil.  

"The dress," Shouto clarified with a rattling sigh, frowning when tiny red dots suddenly bloomed across the pristine white fabric.  "Is this the one?"

"Oh," you breathe in relief, letting go of his eyelid and returning to running your fingers along his scalp.  "Yeah.  I think this is the one."

"'s perfect," Shouto whispered, eyelids growing heavy as the edges of his vision darkened.  "Defin'ly buy this one…"

"Shou-!  -ay awake!" You cried, tears streaming down your face while Shouto buried his face into your stomach, inhaling the scent of your skin layered underneath the fragrance of starch from the dress; snippets of your words filtering through his brain like a sieve.  

"-ncussion!  Stay awake!  Ple-!"

"I already call-"

"-Deku is on-"

And then there was silence.

The road to recovery was far longer than Shouto would have liked.  Any sort of brain injury booked you an immediate and non negotiable week long stay in the Hero Intensive Care Unit with CT scans scheduled daily.  Shouto flitted in and out of consciousness for a couple of days until they pulled back on his meds, and from there on out he made steady improvement, suffering through never ending days of under salted meals and reciting his ABCs backwards to prove his brain was in fine working order.  

Half-way through his stay he was visited by a deeply apologetic Gunhead and his terrified Intern, Cannon Blob, who had been the one that had lobbed the projectile that had taken Shouto out.  

"Hot shot here broke protocols and rushed ahead without me," Gunhead explained as Cannon Blob repeatedly bowed at Shouto's bedside, his lips wobbling as a constant stream of apologies tumbled from his mouth.  "I told him he's lucky you were able to push Ice Pick out of the way and throw up some sort of shield.  If you hadn't, he'd be visiting a grave instead of a hospital."

Shouto looked at the terrified Intern, still just a kid struggling to learn the cruel rules of the adult game they had signed their life away to play.  The reformed Hero Commission had raised the age for entering into Heroism after the war, the world rightfully opposed to the government keeping the gears of society greased with the blood of child soldiers.  But even with the increase in age, Cannon Blob just looked so young . Too young , really.   

With a weary sigh, Shouto dropped his hand down onto Cannon Blob's shoulder, interrupting his frantic bowing with a firm squeeze.  

"Take this experience to heart," Shouto said, pausing to cough gently into the crook of his arm.  "Learn from this mistake and follow through with that lesson; don't fall back into the same bad habits that led you to today."

"I will!" Cannon Blob blubbered, wiping his tears on his uniform sleeves.  "I promise I will, Shouto!"

"See that you do.  Gunhead is an excellent mentor.  Listen to him and I know you'll become a Hero I'll enjoy working with in the future."

"Thanks Shouto," Gunhead nodded, steering Cannon Blob away from his bedside and towards the door.  "Tell you Old Man I said 'Hello'".  

"I'd rather take another hit from Cannon Blob," Shouto stated blandly, a corner of his mouth curling at the sound of Gunhead's booming laugh echoing down the hospital hallway.  

It was still a good stretch of time before Shouto was allowed back into the field.  It was nice being back in his office at first, a welcomed change to the sterile environment the hospital offered, but he quickly grew restless on desk duty and looked for any reason to get out and stretch his legs during the day.

So he accompanied his company gofers on coffee runs, lugged packages around the mailroom, and hand delivered high-level clearance messages between nearby agencies.  Today's errand run took him by Deku's office, a place that he'd been avoiding for a while now.  

You'd been unable to visit him in the hospital since civilians are banned from entering unless they were the emergency contact or direct family members or of the patient, and he'd delayed replacing his phone right away to buy himself a couple extra days of contemplation before he had to speak with you again.  

While a lot of the accident was at this point a hazy blur in his memories, the image of you in that wedding dress was seared into his brain like no other sight had been before.  You were there every time he closed his eyes, invading his dreams in that flowing white dress.  More often than not his visions followed a rough outline of the actual event, with Shouto's head cradled in your lap while you ran your hands across his face with a tender smile.  But sometimes his brain would rearrange things to its liking, depositing you at the end of a long aisle and having you march steadily towards him.  

And once he had thought about you reaching him, a bouquet of fluffy chrysanthemums tightly grasped in your hands as you grinned up at him so sweetly that it made his teeth ache; he just couldn't find a way to stop.   

He didn't know how he could face you, knowing with absolute clarity how radiant you'd be as a bride.

But not as his bride.

The future he dreamed about wasn't his to claim.  He felt a fleeting moment of kinship to his Father, wondering if this is how he felt standing in All Might's shadow for so many years; success somehow both tantalizingly close and impossibly far from his grasp.  

When he'd finally switched his SIM card over to his new phone and booted it up, he was inundated with missed calls and texts; his inbox filling up faster than he could answer them, most of them from you.  Shouto had assured you that he was fine, but convalescent and in no shape to entertain visitors.  After double checking that he didn't need anything, you had backed off and resumed your normal messaging routine; occasional texts throughout the day and a quick call while walking home that Shouto let ring more often than he picked up.

With a fortifying breath as the elevator ascended to Deku's top office, Shouto prepared to face you for the first time since the bridal boutique.  The elevator doors whooshed open and Shouto strode purposefully towards your desk, a neutral look settled on his face that would hopefully not alert you to the panicked thundering of his heart.  

"Of course.  Yes, I understand.  I'll relay the message immediately," you spoke into the phone receiver perched on your shoulder, fingers flying across your computer keyboard as you logged some sort of information for future reference.  "Thank you for returning my call so quickly.  Have a wonderful day!"

Dropping the receiver into its base, you finally turned to address the new visitor, routine greeting evaporating off of your tongue when you realized who was standing in front of you.  

"Shouto!" You cried, leaping up from your chair so quickly you stumbled a bit as you rounded the desk and threw your arms around Shouto's neck with a sob.  "You're okay!  You're really okay!  I was so worried!"

"I'm alright," Shouto mumbled soothingly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you further into his embrace.  

"I was so scared," you cried into his shoulder.  

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," you sniffled, eyes red as you wiped at your tears with the back of your hands.  "Just try to pass out a little less ostentatiously next time, okay?"

"I'll do my best," Shouto promised, passing you the handkerchief he had tucked into his back pocket.  You accepted his offering with a grateful smile, blowing your nose with an unbecoming honk as you tried to regain your composure.  

"Okay," you stated firmly, squaring your shoulders and moving back to your desk chair.  "I'm sure you're here on official business, so I'll stop monopolizing your time.  Deku's free so you can head on in."

Moving past your desk, Shouto drew to an abrupt halt when he noticed the new addition to your desk decorations; a fluffy brown Koala dressed up in a replica of his Hero costume.

"You bought one of the Kodoroki dolls?" Shouto asked, picking the stuffed animal up and running a finger over the pink patch of fur around its left eye with a fond smile.  

"Of course I did!  I couldn't resist supporting my favorite Hero and a cute koala at the same time!  No woman is that strong," you sighed with a helpless shrug.  

"I'm your favorite Hero?" Shouto whispered in awe.  "Still?  Even after- after how poorly I treated you when we were together?"

"You weren't so bad," you generously offered up in his defense.  

"I was a pig-headed, callous idiot," he reminded you flatly.

"You definitely had your faults as a boyfriend," you agreed with a laugh, taking Kodoroki back from his hands and fluffing his ears to your liking before returning him to his place of honor next to your computer monitor.  "But I can't imagine a greater Hero than you."

"How thick are these doors?" Shouto whispered, hitching a thumb towards your boss's office.  "Is your job in Jeopardy if Deku overhears you supporting another Hero?"

"Please," you scoff dismissively, bopping Kodoroki on the nose before you log back onto your PC to resume working.  "He has no place to judge when his office can double as an official satellite location for the All Might Museum."

[luxshine]

As I loved RRR, I've been watching more Tallywood films, in specific with Ram Charan and Tarak as main stars. Unfortunately not together, as their only movie together is RRR when seriously, they have the power and chemistry to be India's Terence Hill and Bud Spencer (To the fetuses in the audience, they were a pair of actors who made a ton of Buddy movies together, where something happened at the beginning that made them have to solve the problem by hitting everyone who got in their way. My personal favorite is Look out, we're mad. The extra twist was that Bud, the fat, hairy one, was usually the level headed one, and Terence, the blonde, blue eyed, traditionally handsome, was chaos in a bottle)

ANYWAY, I've watched so far Magadheera (Adorable romance, Ram Charan does a double role as Harsha, a biker, and Kala Bhairava, his reincarnation), Yamadonga (Funny as hell, where Tarak plays Raja, a thief who falls in love, but also ends up in hell where he steals the God of the Dead's power before getting sent back to earth), Rangashtalam (which I can't describe without spoilers but has one hell of a twist and also portrays a side of India that is not seen in Hollywood movies without being racist, and ALSO has amazing deaf representation in the shape of the lead play by Charan, without being disability porn), and finally, Jai Lava Kusa (A rollercoaster of emotions where Tarak plays not one, but THREE roles and each of them is wonderful)

Each of their roles is so different from Ram and Bheem, you can tell how amazing actors they are even if some cultural references go past you.

That said, Lava Kumar, from Jai Lava Kusa, is SO, SO gullible, that I am almost sure he's single handedly keeping Nigeria's economy afloat. On the other hand, Chitti Babu from Rangashtalam has my award for most human looking chicken, winning over Chickity Boo by a landslide.

[thatanimewriter]

DEATH’S DOORSTEP.

➳ request: Hello hello, I hope requests are open, if not, just ignore this request.  I can ask for a headcanon, with Death Parade gang or just Decim, where the reader who is Death itself, they are kind, sweet and soft-spoken, they are participating in a game against the one who killed them, imagine death needs to participate in the games of life at least once to feel what it's like when it arrives for humans!  and they only find out when Death wins the game, and reveals that every century Death needs to know what it's like to be human, they never lose the games.  OP Reader Supremacy! Thanks for your attention. (Inspiration taken from Nail Gaiman's Sandman Comics.)

➳ character/s: decim, nona, ginti

➳ warnings: swearing, mentions of death, actual death??, mentions of murder, can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, it’s not really referring to either of them explicitly

➳ notes: DEATH PARADEEEEE! i took chiyuki outta this one just cause it didn’t really make as much sense in this scenario, but our icons are here :))

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

──  𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐌.

nothing out of the ordinary here

just another set of clients

where one of them killed the other-

he’s quite surprised how sweet and kind you are

always thanking him for the drink

in return you get a ._. from decim

during the game, you end up playing poker and decim is a lil bit impressed with how smart you are

he finds that even when facing your murderer, you’re still nice???

what the hell is up with that?

he knows your memories because he kinda has to have them

but he’s a lil taken aback at how fast yours came back

more so how graciously you took the win

since figuring out you’re death, he now wants you around way more

he wants to know what you think of different guests and possibly have you help with his judgement

eventually he just grew fond of you anyway, cause you’re so SWEET what is it about you that makes him want to hug you-

he hadn’t seen you before, he’d been working for less than 20 years

so the earlier he got to know you and your beliefs on life, the better

not for any self-serving purposes like being the object of your kindness

not at all...

──  𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐀.

i feel like nona would be the first to catch on before the end of the game

she’s been doin this for a whileee

she’d pick up on anomalies quite fast

not many people enjoy the presence of a killer

but nona found herself enjoying your company a lot more

you were so nice and polite

even to the other competitor for some reason

which she saw no point in

but she did give you the benefit of the doubt considering your memories are erased

and she was right to, because even though you took a while to gain any significant memories back

you DESTROYED the other person, it wasn’t even close

and only until the very end did she realise you knew you were death itself once you came to the elevators to leave

in which you just smiled at her and asked if you could have another drink

she said yes cause honestly, you deserved it after that shit show and winning by a landslide

and that was when she decided to make you a a clavis 2.0

she had yet to meet you, since this only happens every century and she hadn’t been in management the last time you came

so she took the time to get to know you and BASK IN THE TOOTH-ROTTING SWEETNESS

that is you :))

you’re now her new pool buddy in her spare time even if you always win

──  𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈.

“huh?”

head empty, no thoughts

he doesn’t usually get customer dynamics like murderer vs victim

but he did find himself getting a bit angry

because who is this bitch to kill someone so nice as you??

it took a lot not to punch the guy across the bar as they entered

there’s a clear bias here, but he doesn’t let it impact his judgement

is what he thinks

but while watching you guys compete, he’s already vouching for you

secretly screaming in his head when he sees you continue to get ahead of the opponent

just a casual internal dialogue of

“FUCK HIM UPPPPP-”

he gave you a nice NOOGIE for winning and then had you sit with him after the game to have a nice chat

nona did join you guys to discuss business with you and what you’re job would be

which is a massive bonus for ginti, cause he gets to see you a ton >:)))

lots of playing with the cat

and a lot more noogies

also a lot of ginti asking you about how the other games went from previous centuries

and pisses off nona because he always gets you to stay during his appointments-

[mariacallous]

Donald Trump’s supporters believe the “deep state” is out to get him – even though, if the USA had a deep state worthy of the name, the CIA would have sent a hitman to dispatch Trump years ago.

The Tory press, Liz Truss, Jacob Rees-Mogg, and their pals on the Tory right blame an establishment plot for the failure of 14 years of Tory rule – rather than blaming – oh I don’t know, let’s pick an example at random – themselves.

Everywhere you see the new right of the 21st century embracing the conspiracy theory of the old left of the 20th century. Democracy is in danger because the unelected elite in business, the civil service and the media will never allow real change.

I am not making a case for moral or political equivalence. Indeed, I want to argue that the radical right matters more than the left for one simple reason: the radical right actually wins​ power.

Before going any further, here is how the sworn enemies can look like bosom buddies

To understand the mental universe of the rulers of the UK and, if our luck fails us, the future rulers of the US, come back with me 40 years to the left of the 1980s.

We, too, were raging against a world that seemed to have escaped our control. Voters, including working class voters, had put Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher in power, and they kept them there, despite the right of the day presiding over extraordinary levels of unemployment. The Cold War was entering a terrifying phase. The Soviet Union and the USA were placing medium-range nuclear weapons in Europe and threatening to turn the continent into a battlefield.

If I could offer you one book that ​encapsulates the mood on the​ 1980s left, I would offer Chris Mullin’s A Very British Coup, published in 1982 and turned into a TV drama later in the decade. (See above).

It’s still worth reading and watching, if you have a few hours. I have nothing against it as drama. But the best way to view is as a map of what were then left-wing fears.

Mullin was a Labour MP and a follower of Tony Benn, the left-wing champion of the day. Benn failed to become Labour leader or even deputy leader. But inspired by the movement he represented, the party swung to the left in the 1980s. No good did it do Labour. It went down to landslide defeats in 1983 and 1987. I can still remember feeling scared and astonished as a young man as I watched Mrs Thatcher crush all opposition.

Mullin escaped from defeat into a kind of fantasy world. He imagined what the “elite” of the day would do to a radical Labour government. Mullin created Harry Perkins, a working-class Labour leader. He became prime minister, and was determined to put in place a Bennite programme.

Media monopolies would go, under Mullin’s fictional Labour government, so out with Rupert Murdoch. The UK would commit to unilateral nuclear disarmament, and withdraw from Europe (the old left hated Europe with a passion that matches that of today’s new Right). It would support a Palestinian state, nationalisation…and all the other courses on the left’s menu du jour.

“​'Our ruling class have never been up for re-election before,” cries Perkins. “But I hereby serve notice on behalf of the people of Great Britain that their time has come.’ Such language had never been heard from a British Prime Minister before. Although received with rapture in Sheffield town hall, Harry Perkins’ words burst upon the Athenaeum as though the end of the world was at hand. Which, in a manner of speaking, it was.”

The Athenaeum for readers unfamiliar with the geography of the British class system is an establishment Pall Mall club, where in the imagination of Mullin and many, many thousands of others the privileged meet to plot their wicked schemes.

Which Mullins’ establishment duly does. It leaks details of Labour politicians’ affairs to the gutter press and drives their families to suicide. The CIA conspires to make the country ungovernable. The civil service and the military conspire against the elected government they are sworn to serve.

I could go on but you get the picture. The power elite will never allow the left to govern.

And now it is right-wing politicians who sound like the left of the 1980s. Here is Jacob Rees-Mogg, a faux aristocratic populist at this week’s launch of the satirically titled “Popular Conservatism” movement. He was a snob looking for a mob to raise

Rees-Mogg began with the language of the 1790s and quoted the anti-Jacobin Tory politician George Canning denouncing the cosmopolitan progressives of Georgian England.

“A steady patriot of the world alone, The friend of every country but his own”

Well, OK, and fair enough. Canning has been proved right down the generations. Liberals and leftists have often laid themselves open to charges of lacking patriotism. In Chris Mullin’s day we were demanding that the UK give up its nuclear weapons in return for nothing at all from the Soviet Union, to cite one of many examples.

And, yet after 14 years of Conservative rule, who is betraying whom? Who is the true friend of this country?

Wages have not increased, the public realm is derelict, the country is in decline.

Rees-Mogg refused to accept responsibility. Instead, he spent much of his speech laying into British judges. The reason this government had failed to stop asylum seekers reaching these shores was, he said, the fault of the judicial enemy within.

Speaking alongside him was Liz Truss, the Lady Jane Grey of the Conservative party. In her 49 days in power, she crashed the economy, sent interest rates hurtling upwards, and nearly destroyed the private pension industries.

Commentators covering the event focused on the admittedly absurd spectacle of the most unpopular prime minister ever appearing at a “popular conservatism” conference.

They missed the construction of a myth. Truss’s economic policy  was as much a fantasy as any of the ideas of the defeated left of my youth.

When they were in power, Truss and her chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng announced unfunded tax cuts for the rich. There were no reductions in public spending to pay for them, just the belief that tax cuts would magically pay for themselves – an idea as utopian in its way as the left’s belief in the 1980s that, if the UK unilaterally disarmed, the USSR would do the same.

Despite it burning in flames, the right cannot let go of the dream, as Truss proved with her speech

“The left don’t just compete with us at the ballot box now. They also work to take over our institutions. We see it in much of the media, we see it in the corporations, we see it in the quangos and much of the bureaucracy that emerged under Tony Blair.”

And which quangos did Ms Truss have in mind?

The Office of Budget Responsibility, home to a rather tame bunch of economists, the right want​s to blame for the economic disaster Truss let loose on the British.

Notice the conspiracy theory.  The crash in the British economy was brought about because generally rather right-wing men (and the occasional woman) working in the bond markets concluded that the government of the United Kingdom was in the hands of “morons”.  

Rather than accept the judgement of her peers. Truss and those around her want to blame the Treasury, the Bank of England, and the Office for Budget Responsibility for the Conservative party’s mistakes

But note, too, how the right appropriated the conspiracy theory of the left.

One of the leftists in Mullins’ drama declares that

“They’ll never let a Labour government headed by Harry Perkins take power,” he told her.”

‘Who’re ‘they’?’ she had asked innocently.

 ‘Your friends in the City, the newspaper owners, the civil servants, all them sort of people’.”

Today he might be a Tory explaining why, to use Truss’s list, the media, the corporations and the quangos will never allow a truly Conservative government to enforce the “will of the people”.

Paranoia has its consolations. The left of the 1980s was destroyed in election after election. And yet it could think that it did not fail because leaving Europe and unilaterally disarming were terrible ideas. Rather we could believe a vast conspiracy had brainwashed the public into voting against its interests.

Conservatives think the same today, and the temptation is to make some glib remark about the “horseshoe theory” proving that the radical left and right aren’t so different after all and leave it there.

But there is one very striking difference: the radical left loses but the radical right wins.

The UK is so clearly moving towards electing a Labour government we can miss the wider picture that everywhere you look radical right parties are advancing.

Indeed, even out of power Donald Trump is controlling our lives. He is threatening to throw Ukraine to Putin and pull US forces from Europe, and can rely on his allies in the US Congress to make his malign dreams come true.

Despite calling themselves patriots, Rees Mogg and Truss are all for Trump.  They prefer his America to NATO ​and the UK’s defence interest because Trump’s success and the successes of the European radical right allows them to believ​e that they are not out of the game yet.

And they may not be wrong. Unless we can find arguments to defeat them, they will be back.

[mageofminge]

Too right buddy the jury vote is a slap in the face to fairness and my mate agrees that Croatia deserved to win but he had money on it so I think he's a bit biased and and and also next year is the 50th anneversery of abba preforming in eurovision isn't it very convenient how sweden won and will now be hosting next year hmmmm 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 its almost as if the contest was rigged or something that so weird but I might be wrong I was playing poker for most of yhe competition so 8t didn't have my full attention a won a load of money though so worth it woop woop seeya

nah it was definitely rigged fr. if you look during the interviews loreen (sweden's performer) is the only one who still has their mic on, the rest all had their mics removed, which kinda suggests the crew already anticipated her to win (for the uncultured - after the results are announced the winner has to perform again). plus there were talks of voting lines going down right as votes were pouring in for finland so overall pretty suspicious. ngl croatia was criminally underrated and i would've wanted it to win but realistically speaking, if it wasn't for the (clearly corrupt) jury vote, finland would've (rightfully) won in a landslide. anyways congrats on the poker win :-)

[fern-bee]

ROUND ONE IS UP AND DONE!

Sorry for the delay, folks!

Round one was finished in a… not so neat little bow, so let’s see which lucky couples are going to round two!

ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

THE SWEEPS

We had a couple landslide wins there, such as Windstream vs. Ramcharge, when our two lovely ladies Windstream won with 76% of the vote!

Almost as impressive as Rodimags vs. Sentop, when our two ship-shape pals Rodimags took home the win with 77% of the vote!

And our runner up for the biggest win margin is Doop vs. Rattnox, where our captain and his second Doop aced the win with 81% of the vote

And as for the biggest win margin, we have Brawncharger vs. Ophide, where our two red ‘n ready old men Ophide utterly swept the floor with a whopping 86% of the vote!

ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

CLOSE SHAVES

Beleive or not, some of these matches came incredibly down to the wire!

In Bonzaron vs. Burgeratu, our two consumable comrades Burgeratu managed to cinch the win with 54% of the vote!

Even closer than that was Springeraid vs. Ironkup, and believe it or not, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can get Ironkup through the finish-line with 52% of the vote!

Of a similar percentage was Nyxskold vs. Tarastrike, when our bug boys Tarastrike got in at the last moment with 52% of the vote!

ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

THE TIES

If you’ve been following this first round, you’ve probably seen it. Both Galvop vs Thundermagnus AND Elitarcee vs. Chromalita are perfectly tied with 50% each! And so, due to a technically, all four ships will be making it to the next round to go against each other in a special Tie-Breaker Match! So be sure to watch out and place your votes!

And speaking of votes…

ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

ROUND TWO MATCH-UPS:

Doop vs. Swinlock ♡ Wavewave vs. Starwave

Ophide vs. Shockjack ♡ Arcaileron vs. Ironkup

Tigairachnia vs. Omegastator ♡ Blitzbee vs. Rodimags

Soundblaster vs. Soundrod ♡ Tarastrike vs. Burgeratu

Thundermagnus vs. Elitarcee ♡ Galvop vs. Chromalita

Windstream vs. Megop (Prime Wars)

The polls will be going live tomorrow around noon! In the meantime, if you have any appropriate victory speeches, rage rants, or questions/observations about the votes, leave me an ask in my inbox or make your own post with the tag #Transformers Rarepair Poll. I’ll see ya then, auto-buddies!

[omniuravity]

Final update on who I shall do a subtle cosplay for to see the FNAF movie with my buddies.

It's an overwhelming landslide win for me to be Bonnie!

So if anyone has subtle cosplay suggestions feel free to give me ideas.

[tenebrous-academic]

Okay Tevan is winning by a landslide, but I wouldn’t feel right declaring it the victor without putting a few more contenders in the ring that have both been suggested and that I’ve seen floating around.

9-1-1 fandom, we need a ship name before 7x05 comes out.

Are we going with Tevan or Tuck? Also up for consideration is Firecopter, which I’ve seen floating around.

[akookminsupporter]

How quick people forget JK randomly bringing up JM in his lives & IRONICALLY on Made up TK Day. Nothing but Happy TK Day/TK is real spammed in his chat & JK is like oh yeah I went & hugged JM. Another randomly brought up he stole JM’s Ramen. Another said JM carried Home. Not to mention he brought up JM in every single Q&A he did, including saying Be Jealous I’ll keep holding Jiminie. Going by subgroup rules, when a member keeps bringing up a member unprovoked, they’re dating. So Jikook dating?

Them: JM doesn’t talk about JK anymore but x member does, so Jikook aren’t dating/close now OR JM knows he got JK on lockdown & he ain’t in no competition cause there ain’t no competition. He knows he has JK making public thirst traps for him & him ONLY. He has nothing to prove. He’ll talk about JK when wants, not cause he needs to. You think JM sweating when he knows he can tell JK I need you & JK drops his workout buddies & by JMs side in 60 secs? JM knows JK put a ring, I mean a “J M” on it.

These are asks sent by different people I think but my answer is the same for both, so I decided to put them together. If we were petty, shallow and a bit silly and treated this as a competition, jikook would still win by a landslide but we are not like that.

[sophie-i-guess13]

Homemade Promptlist!

These are literally just song lyrics from my various Spotify playlists. You don’t need to send me a prompt to send me a request, but here’s some ideas if your looking for them!

Other writers; feel free to use these! I’d appreciate it if you mentioned where you got the prompt(s) from though! Have fun! <3

I’ll add more as I think of them- or if you felt like sending me some to put here *wink wink nudge nudge*

**prompts that involve “/“ can have very different vibes- let me know which lyrics in particular you’d like!

*sad yeehaw*

I wish I was a trusted man, but a trusted man is weak / the only thing worth trusting is some brass through crooked teeth / love it ain’t for taming, a disease that can’t be cured [ crooked teeth - zach bryan ]

What a home so sad and lone [ can the circle be unbroken - the Carter family ]

Well it seems like a month since I kissed my baby goodbye [ six days on the road - Dave Dudley ]

I said there’d be no sorrow / that I’d laugh when you walked away [ a little bitty tear - Burl Ives ]

You’ve got a way to keep me on your side [ I walk the line - Johnny Cash ]

I play my blues for the small town kids [ muddy water - The Deslondes ]

70’s and Up

I remember when she used to make a lot of noise / hoppin’ and a-boppin’ with the street corner boys [ I knew the bride when she used to rock n roll - Nick Lowe ]

Oh, what a night / Late December, back in ‘63 [December, 1963 - Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons ]

We may lose, we may win / but we will never be here again [ take it easy - The Eagles ]

It’s the only thing I could do half right, and it’s turned out all wrong, Ma [ look what they’ve done to my song - Melanie ]

Bye bye, miss american pie! [ American pie - Don McLean ]

Teenage ambitions you remember well / it was the heat of the moment [ heat of the moment - Asia ]

I only wish my words could convince myself that it just wasn’t real, but that’s not the way it feels [ operator - Jim Croce ]

Vintage

Oh won’t you stay / just a little bit longer? [ stay - Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs ]

I miss my baby and I feel so bad, guess my race is won / she’s the best girl I’ve ever had / I fought the law and the law won [ I fought the law - Buddy Holly ]

No woman’s worth crawling on the Earth [ walk like a man - the four seasons ]

Let’s twist again, like we did last summer / let’s twist again, like we did last year [ let’s twist again - Chubby Checker ]

Don’t care if you do / cause it’s understood / you ain’t got no money / you just ain’t no good [ hit the road Jack - Ray Charles ]

Indie

And it hardened like my heart did when you left town / but that’s all in the past now, gone with the wind [ cleopatra - The Lumineers ]

You told me a lie, fuck you for that / maybe when (s)he’s dead and gone I’ll get some sleep [ leader of the landslide - the lumineers ]

The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain [ la belle fleur sauvage - lord Huron ]

There’s a debt or two I owe you [ 20 long years - lord Huron ]

Lost in time and space, aimless drifting in a far off place / lost in a galaxy of cocktail bars / I guess she’s gone for good, she don’t call me like I thought she would / lost in time and space, aimless searching for a long lost face [ lost in time and space - Lord Huron ]

[ickypuppi3]

steve and billy go to register for a domestic partnership after some close call makes them both panic and they meet some guys from outta town who did it and they both agree that it seems like a great idea but then they find out the mayor or something hates the gays and it’s not gonna happen so one thing leads to another leads to billy trying to get into this guys office to ‘fuck him up’ leads to flyers leads to billy running leads to him winning by a landslide vote. mostly by accident

billy finds a stray dog who’s this side of too skinny and flinches whenever steve walks near but seems to take a shine to billy and they take her to the vet and put up posters but no one claims her so they take her in and she’s theirs but then steve’s out walking her one day and this guy comes up and starts ranting and raving that they’ve got his dog and steve’s all listen here buddy, she’s ours, alright? but the guys kinda massive and manages to take her from steve

and steve takes a deep breath, walks back to his and billy’s apartment and grabs his baseball bat from under the bed before oh so calmly walking back out and billy looks up from the book he’s reading and runs after steve and steve’s the picture of calm when he says oh this guy took [dog], gonna go get her back. and he does, they do. and steve may or may not break the guys nose and from that point on the dog starts sleeping between the two of them in bed and constantly stares at steve like he hung the moon (billy totally does the same)

its 1990 and some girl their age who looks vaguely familiar turns up at their door with a five year hanging onto her hand and steve answers, dish towel slung over his shoulder and that apron billy got him two christmases ago as a joke tied around his waist and before steve can even say anything she asks if billy hargrove lives there and he goes to answer but she cuts him off again, says that she wants her daughter to meet her father

and steve’s like oh ! ok. frowns a little and feels, like, one hundred percent, totally, completely stumped as he looks from her to the kid and back again before trying for a smile and yelling over his shoulder for billy to come here please haha it’s ok everything’s fucking peachy but you seriously need to come here whilst trying to fanatically rip off an apron that says ‘stuff the chef’ and- yeah, billy finds out he has a whole kid and yeah, he freaks the fuck out until he realises he actually wants to be there for his kid, doesn’t want to be his mom and certainly will never be neil so. the three of them work it out

steve’s parents come to visit before they know steve and billy are together and they have to pretend they’re just roommates, steve has to do a drug test for work and decides that, for unrelated reasons, weed should totally be legalised and gets argyle and jonathan to come help with the cause, billy and steve go to their first pride, billy gets into it with their kid’s teacher for some reason or another etc. you get the picture

billy and steve moving away and being happy and working through it all sure but what i really need is for them to get into shameless gay jesus type shenanigans