#no wonder that man was able to be elected

[theghostofashton]

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[chibishortdeath]

Great googley moogley it’s all going to shit! Every day becomes exponentially more terrifying!

And all perfectly timed to just right at the start of what’s supposed to be my adult life where I get my shit together and be useful and productive!

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Reasons why we know there's something wrong with Grandpa:

• believes immigrants are eating their neighbors pets because he heard someone say it on TV (without any evidence) • thinks injecting disinfectant into our veins might be a good idea. (It's definitely not, don't try it.) • claims America's F35 fighter jet is completely invisible, even if you're right next to it (like Wonder Woman's plane)

• praises white supremacists and KKK members who were chanting antisemitic hate speech, calling them "very fine people" • focuses on imaginary issues like preventing children from changing gender while at school, but ignores real problems like school shootings • thought it was a good idea to give away our desperately needed Covid test machines to our adversary ("Grandpa, what have you done?" — he can't be left alone for a minute) • decided to believe Putin's lies, but dismiss findings from America's intelligence agencies • claims America had airplanes during the Revolutionary War

• believes in the Nazi ideology that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country," and says some migrants are actually subhuman "animals" • insisted that the U.S. would have fewer coronavirus cases if it conducted less testing (yes, a U.S. president in charge of controlling the crisis, actually said something this inept, repeatedly) • due to his incompetence and lies during the Covid crisis, the U.S. had one of the highest rates of Covid deaths in the world • thinks windmills cause cancer and kill whales • speaks endlessly about his concerns re: dying by electrocution from a boat battery or being eaten by a shark

• thinks he's above the law and, as president, should be able to commit as many crimes as he wants • is a billionaire who whines about how badly he's been treated, then he's chauffeured to his private jet • likes to discuss Arnold Palmer's penis • after NINE years of repeatedly promising to unveil his Healthcare Plan "very soon," he admits he still has no real plan —only "concepts of a plan" • has a bizarre attraction to the fictional cannibal and serial killer, Hannibal Lector (why? no one knows —and everyone's afraid to ask)

• advocates dangerous plots, like using the military against Americans who disagree with him, or using the DOJ to arrest them, or just telling people to "beat the crap out of them" and he'll pay their legal fees • thinks having a national day of violence is a good idea (we should never have let Grandpa watch "The Purge") • wants to be the "law and order president," yet this 34 time convicted felon incites people to riot and to commit criminal acts of violence • unable to take the loss of an election like a man, he had a temper tantrum like a toddler, that culminated in a treasonous insurrection

⠀This guy is so delusional, he claims he's a genius because he often speaks incoherently in something he calls "the Weave." Here are two examples: • "How disgusted were all when we see all of us are when we see three days ago when we viewed their parade." Asheboro, NC, 8/21/24 • When asked, "What specific legislation will you commit to, to make child care affordable?" He responded, “Well, I would do that, and we’re sitting down, you know; I was, somebody, we had Senator Marco Rubio and my daughter, Ivanka, who was so impactful on that issue. ...But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about that because the childcare is childcare, couldn’t, you know, there’s something you have to have it, in this country you have to have it.” New York, NY, 9/5/24 ⠀If this was anybody else's Grandpa, the family would be having discussions about who's going to go with Grandpa to the doctor to find out what's wrong with him, and who's going to be in charge of finding him a nice convalescent home to live in. ⠀My suggestion is that it might be a good idea to elect a president who has no cognitive impairment and can tell the difference between reality and delusions. Personally, I think that's a rather important quality in a president.

[sftykth]

milk and cookies ⟢ anakin skywalker i.

banner made by me!

╭ summary: your doll like face will be the end of anakin skywalker he was sure of it. however he must stay away from his disturbing thoughts as he was only your sugar daddy, and you two had agreed on a deal, no physical contact. Though for how long can you both resist the temptation?

╭ pairing: y/n x anakin skywalker

╭ genre: college au!, gap age (y/n is 20, anakin is 42), sugar daddy

╭ a/n: hi everyone! i couldn’t help but make another story as the idea sprung into my head. i would love to hear your feedback on it!:)

Today seemed like God was not on your side.

From the moment you had woken to your alarm not going off, to the precious sweat you had to break for chasing a taxi to meet him. You will admit you might have slept through the alarm this morning but that can't be entirely your fault. Your curious little mind just had to stay up and do research more of the stranger that you will be seeing for the first time today.

Anakin Skywalker. The name that drove you crazy for the past two weeks straight. A very well known man in Coruscant, the front leading man for ruling the state. To say you were quite intimidated by him would be an understatement, however you tried to ease yourself by reminding your little head that he agreed to this.

When you created an account for a sugar daddy website, seeing the man who was known for being cold and ruthless was the last person you expected. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering if you should add him. Handsome wasn't enough to describe this man, he was absolutely divine. The blue piercing eyes had made your breath hitch, you had been aware of his overwhelming looks but seeing it up close still made your knees weak. The sunken smile lines revealed his age and instead of making you feel turned off, it inflamed something deep within you. Creating an account was purely for financial gain, as a broke college student you had listened to your friend and pushed yourself to try it out.

As you sit in the taxi on the way to the little cafe you both had agreed to meet, just on the outskirts of the city. Away from the prying eyes. You reminisce on the first messages you two had exchanged, past you not believing that the day will come were you will meet this man.

April, 2024.

[Sky] Hi.

[Dollface] hey! what's up?!

[Sky] You added me?

[Dollface] um well yea but just a polite thing to say yk..

[Sky] I see. I don't think I have you seen on here before.

[Dollface] come here often huh;)

[Sky] Funny.

[Dollface] sorry. yeah im new here. hoping not to run into no creeps haha

[Sky] Well, one thing I can promise is that I'm not a creep. So dollface, why are you here?

At the moment you were scared by his harsh tone but you grew to embrace it and it only made you tease him harder. Even his texting style made you think about how much older he was, nearly twice your age. Somehow it just didn't concern you that much, you knew that getting into something like this will most likely mean that the men on the website will be much older. You only ever had one boyfriend in your twenty ears, and that was when you were sixteen and he was around the same age. You shook your head at the thought, this man is not going to become your boyfriend. This is a pure transactional relationship, something he made to stress.

Him being a known figure had its advantages to that you were able to get every detail of his life, from a young age he was put into the world of leadership and wealth. Age eighteen he had already won the elections and was announced as the youngest ruler of the state. Married at twenty one to the daughter of the ruler of Naboo, Mr Amidala and having twins just at the pure age of twenty three. You shuddered at the though of having to raise children so young. Though an unexpected divorce at the age of thirty had made you raise your eyebrows, even though you knew of the power couple you were never really into politics, the topic being all too confusing for someone like you. Leaving twelve years of being single, you wondered what caused him to join such website, he didn't reveal much through messages.

"Miss, we are here." You heard the driver speak up, you shook out of your thoughts and thanked him before handing some cash and leaving the car.

You shivered at the cold breeze that swept by you, you tugged your little pink skirt further down. Hoping that warmer days are coming, you hated the cold. Finally, the realization that you will be meeting this man that you have been messaging hit you like a ton of bricks. You gulped, as you peered at the cafe in front of you. Without another thought you rushed through the doors, feeling bad you that you must of have left him waiting. From the research you had done you knew he was a punctual man, always the first one ready for every event.

Scanning the area around you before you spotted the tall figure sat right at the back booth. You didn't even realize he was already staring you down like you had murdered his whole family, speed walking to the table.

"I'm so sorry Mr Skywalker, I slept through my alarm this morning and I didn't realize how long the ride will take." you rambled on, cheeks turning red being under his intense stare.

He hummed and pointed to the seat in front of him, not saying a word yet. Your hands shook slightly at the silence he was giving you, taking the seat he was pointing. Expecting the cold shoulder but still slightly hoping that the messages you had exchanged had encouraged some form of lightheartedness.

"Twenty minutes. That is how long I have been waiting for you. I must say I'm very displeased by this." Were his first words to me, oh that sweet honey voice rolling smoothly of his tongue. You took every word in carefully, gazing up at him you tried not to get too distracted by his good looks.

"I'm sorry... I will do better next time. I promise Mr Skywalker." you mumbled, biting your lip as sudden shyness took over your body.

"Not so bold now are, dollface? I must say the nickname does match the face." he added as he toyed with the coffee cup in his hand. The compliment had made you blush harder, not being able to look into his eyes no more as you shook your head carefully. The way he said the nickname had made your thighs clench together beneath the table, hoping he didn't notice the action. He did.

You were unsure how to reply, not really expecting for him to be so forward, before you could say anything he begins with a "So, are you ready to go through the rules?"

This made you look up. Rules? He was really an organised man afterall. "Yes." You replied, unsure what possible rules he will be giving you but still ready to hear what he wants from you. The intention of why you were on the website in the first place was known to him but you were yet to learn what he wanted from you. He said he would only discuss it in person which encouraged the meeting in the first place.

"Okay good. So as you know already my job requires of me to attend to many different events. Not just around our state but to others as well." He carefully listed, his eyes never leaving yours. Though you were taking every word in carefully, knowing you couldn't afford to anger him. Being late already set you back in your eyes, so you had to try harder to impress him. You scoffed inside, you didn't have to impress him, this is not a date. You had to remind yourself once again.

"My uncle, well he is a very persistent man and as much as I try to push his talks away it seems impossible. He wants me to marry again. This is something I cannot do, but to push those frustrating talks away I thought you could be an actual help here." Furrowing your eyebrows, you added puzzled, "You want to marry me?"

He scoffed at the words. For some reason that made your insides feel weird. You shook your head, this is not a date. You kept repeating in your head. "No, of course not. I meant that you could play a pretend girlfriend or some sort. Only for a while, until he backs off and I can finish off my tasks without having to hear his talks." He answered, taking a sip of his coffee. You licked your lips in response, you felt crazy for finding any action of his so sexy. You had to control yourself.

"I see. So what would be rules I would need to follow?" You asked, still unsure about this whole thing but deep within you knew you wanted to keep seeing this man. Something about him made you question your morals, wanting to do absolutely anything to please him. Once again you had to shake your head at such disturbing thoughts appearing in your head.

"Well firstly, you will and must attend every event that I have scheduled. No matter last minute or not, those events are super important for me and my job. And that way the media will be able to spread the word of their leader in a relationship and my uncle can finally back off. There will be no physical contact between us besides a typical hand hold, and only for such contact to made will be at those events. And for your attendance you will be payed as discussed prior of course." This seemed so easy for him as he spoke, always so professional.

You had to take all the information in, this was such an unusual situation. When your friend said to join the website you were expecting you will have to get some form of sexual interaction but this, this was so different. You can't lie, it was really an amazing deal. Though you cannot lie that the last rule made you slightly disappointing, you didn't know how you will control yourself next to this man and not be able to touch him.

"Deal" You squealed, throat dry from not speaking up for a while. Embarrassment took over you, hoping you didn't draw too much attention to yourself. You saw a slight smirk appear on his handsome face, "That's good, I'm glad." You still couldn't look into his eyes for long before staring at the table, playing with the hems at the end of your skirt.

"It was nice meeting you, dollface. I hope that our next meeting will be with you on time." The comment made your head shot up, face flushed as your doe like eyes stared up him, you saw his adams apple wobble as he swallowed, adjusting his tie he stood up, ready to leave.

"Oh and nice shirt, dollface." Were his last words as he turned away and walked out the doors. Leaving you speechless and embarrassed, you looked down at the shirt and saw you had forgotten in your late process to put a bra on, your white shirt clearly highlighting the hardened nipples from the earlier cold you felt.

You cursed yourself, this is going to be the hardest thing you will have to do. You were sure of it.

— i would love to hear your feedback on it:) and let me know if you like another part to it.

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Only one guy on here has two eyes, and even then, they're fake eyes. It's big-tits-McGee, Mr. logic man extraordinaire, Geneva Suggestion Believer himself: Shockwave! Yep, all 12 of him, a reasonable amount of alternates to have, unlike some people... Shockwave Height Chart, everyone, fuckin wee.

Edit: I didn't like the old scaling I had so I changed it. The old chart is at the end of this post.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Here are links to my Bumblebee Chart, my Optimus Chart, my Megatron Chart, and my Soundwave Chart. Please go gawk at how many Optimus designs there are, sweet fuck, there are so many. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag.

Explanations and Sources below the cut.

Unicron Trilogy Energon - ~14 feet 3 inches (No actual source, and Energon doesn't have any listed heights anywhere. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. This is the design used in Energon (S2) though he only shows up in Energon. I was able to compare him to Optimus, and using Cybertron's listed heights, I got this number. I am in physical pain, it does not get better from here. Hilarious side note, his Japanese name is Laserwave, which contains the missing "wave" of Shockwave in this iteration's name.)

Earth Spark - ~15 feet (No actual source for ES, but using a barn door to get Bumblebee's height, then Optimus's, then Megatron's height, I was able to make a guess at Shockwave's. Shockwave comes up to about Megatron's chin; I lost the screenshot I used. It's so convoluted, I know, but it's all I have, also, tiny universe, everyone is so small)

TFA Longarm/V1 - 15 feet 2 inches (Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Gen 1 - ~18 feet (TFWiki, uuuuh I've got nothing to add)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 feet (I have no source for this, other than assuming that because this design is identical to Gen 1, they are the same height. That's it, really)

Knight/Capel-Verse - ~18 feet (No source, and he never stands next to anyone I can measure him against, but because the TFOne director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, I am assuming the height I figured out for TFOne applies to this universe as well. Until proven otherwise. Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

One - ~18 feet (No source, I got this number by comparing him to Optimus. Now, I am aware of the TFO heights listed on the wiki, but I reject those numbers on principal. A: Those numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, so I have elected to use the few given heights we have from KCV and worked from there. My Optimus post has slightly more context if you want it)

Cyberverse - 20 feet (This comes from a screenshot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screenshot is iffy.)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC/TFP - 26 feet 2 inches (This number comes from Fandom and I completely believe it, even if they don't list their source, because the entirety of this universe is freakishly tall. Go look at my other charts, all the ALC designs are monstrous compared to the others)

TFA V2 - 29 feet 11 inches (Once again, phoenix-inanis did a fuck ton of work, go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Bayverse - ~30 feet (Ok, so I don't have a source for this one. There used to be one, BV Shockwave used to be listed as 40 feet tall bc of an article done to promote the movie, but that is no longer listed for reasons not known to me, and making some comparisons to Optimus, I have found them to be kinda close in height. It's very hard to actually validate any of this. Shockwave never stands normally next to anything I can use as a ruler at any point in the movie. He's always at a dramatic angle or partially covered by something in the shot. It's so violently frustrating. I am confident he is around this height though, I just can't figure out how much taller than Optimus he is)

And that's it. I didn't have to leave any designs out, all of them are included here (hopefully). It was so nice to work with a character where I wasn't drowning in 20+ designs across every goddamn universe.

Edit: Here are the different layers separated.

vvv Old scale vvv

[vigilskeep]

when you first start the cousland origin, you can have some conversations with arl howe, teyrn cousland, and duncan that shed some interesting light on the political situation in ferelden. it’s definitely the origin where you get the most context on the rebellion and on cailan and his father. while howe isn’t exactly the most trustworthy of sources, he is also one of the most openly critical of cailan that we have access to, which i think is worthy of interest

howe remembers maric with what the toolset describes as “genuine fondness”: “your father hasn’t spoken of our time with him? that man took care of his friends. as they say, he was large as life and twice as tall!” i think we should pay particular attention to that man took care of his friends.

what howe’s talking about is a really important aspect of kingship, where you win the consent and enthusiasm of the nobility for your rule by offering rewards like wealth, land, and prestige to the loyal. kingship is always less stable than it’s portrayed, and this is one of the ways that kings must essentially sell to the nobility that answering to them is worth their time, which would be especially important in ferelden given everything we know about its culture. fereldans believe someone only has power when it is given by the loyalty of those below them, who have the right to freely rescind that loyalty. the dao codex says that “the sight of [fereldan kings] asking for—and working to win—the support of ‘lesser’ men is a source of constant wonder to foreign ambassadors.”

i suspect howe is remembering a maric fresh from the victories of the rebellion, who was able to reward those who had followed him with the spoils of those victories. at the end of the stolen throne, we see that in the final days of the rebellion, maric was killing those who had betrayed his mother to the orlesians even when they arrived under truce to meet him on holy ground. in dao, we see no lingering orlesian nobility except for those who married in and continue to be met with marked hostility. i think we can safely surmise that maric elected to make no conciliatory measures and give everything to those who had followed him; with the orlesians on the run and his people out for blood, he was in a strong enough position to do so, and it certainly served to win the fond memories of men like howe.

by contrast, howe goes on to say, “it’s too bad cailan isn’t half that.” the toolset notes establish very clearly that it’s the same issue, elaborating on howe’s thoughts: “bitter turn, i don’t get as much from the current king”, and “disdainful, i have no use for him, he does me no favours”. this isn’t a minor character detail, if howe’s last words when killed by the player are anything to go by. “maker spit on you... i deserved... more...” whatever it is that howe feels he should have been given, by the crown or anyone else, it characterises his actions and his defining treachery.

it’s in these same conversations that we see another side of this demonstrated. there are two points where howe can openly criticise the king, and bryce immediately admonishes him for both. one even has the toolset note: “speaks sharply, as a lord to a lesser man, not a friend to an equal”. it definitely comes across that way; the way he tells howe “that’s enough” is not far off the voice he uses when the player, his child, displeases him. bryce can’t tolerate any criticism of cailan, as the couslands in dao are ardent supporters of the king. to venture some hc, i suspect that this is not merely royalist fervour, and that howe’s resentment for having been given less is matched by bryce’s awareness of the precariousness of having more.

over the centuries, the theirins have consolidated their power and eradicated almost all the teyrns (the noble rank that is second only to the king). with the only other lingering teyrn being loghain, who is essentially part and parcel of the royal family, the couslands stand alone as the only real rivals to theirin power within ferelden. there are rumours that bryce was once considered for king instead of the theirins; he too could have decided to believe he “deserved more”. but unlike howe, and perhaps understandably given his strong position and happy growing family, he is satisfied with what he has. he will not take the risk of even the slightest challenge being made within his hall

(i expect that bryce’s satisfaction with the current situation further spurred howe’s dissatisfaction to its heights, given the complicated cousland-howe history and the fact that he was expected to accept a friend he had fought beside as a superior for the rest of his life.)

i don’t think howe’s judgement on cailan is likely to be without basis. we don’t hear about any victories the young king has to his name, from which he could have passed around spoils. (to be fair, cailan had harder luck than maric in this regard. a king who raises a successful rebellion gets to bring glory and prestige to everyone who follows him, whereas a king trying to rebuild after that rebellion mostly gets to bring, uh, taxes probably. especially on wealthy centres of trade like howe’s amaranthine, one might assume.) cailan also takes a far more diplomatic approach to the question of orlais, which perhaps predictably did not win over many nobles of howe’s generation. it makes sense that cailan’s strongest supporters would instead be men like bryce who hope for things to simply continue, peacefully, as they are. perhaps in another world where cailan had won the battle of ostagar, he might have earned wider respect. (you could actually argue on this basis that there’s more sense and purpose to cailan’s glory-seeking than he usually gets credit for.) but howe already acts before ostagar, which can only demonstrate his certainty in cailan’s failings at this point: his belief that even if cailan could win, he would not be stable enough to pursue justice for the couslands

[inkdrinkerworld]

Stitches, Films and Sponges Baths?

Cw: fluff, shy!team doctor!reader, Dick being a flirty shit

“Nightwing B-01, injured.” Calls the electronic voice through the comms and you get moving immediately.

“How bad is it?” You ask as you snap gloves on and reach for your kit.

“Bad enough that I’ll miss seeing your concentrated face, angel.” Dick flirts and you suck at your teeth.

The moment he comes into view, you realise that as much as he flirts he hadn’t been lying.

He’s cut under his eye, there’s another on his bicep and a tear in the side of his suit.

“Who did you lose a fight to?” That gets him to open his eyes and he spots a slight frown on your lips.

“I didn’t lose, I’m just a little more cut up than you’re used to seeing me.” You clean up his face first and your frown smooths out when you realise it's more blood than wound.

“This one isn’t too bad, maybe a butterfly stitch if you really want one. It should close within the day.”

Dick reaches for your gloved hand, “Put the stitch please, angel? Don’t want you having to stare at that cut every time you look at me;” he smiles and as if he’s reconsidered his statement he adds. “Unless it makes me look rugged and even hotter.”

Your body flushes, heat rushing through you and you nibble on your lip as you set the stitch on his cheekbone.

“You look fine, can you open your eyes now?”

He does, “Missed seeing them, did you?”

“Dick,” it’s only a warning, but he likes when you say his name so it’s one he elects to ignore- on the basis of the fact that if he does, you’re going to fluster even more. And he likes that even more.

“Your bicep isn’t too bad, just a scratch really. I’m more worried about your side, so I’m going to look at that first.”

His arms reach up for you to undress him and Dick bites his tongue to keep his smile at bay when your eyes widen and your fingers drag up his stomach as you lift off the top of his suit.

You wonder if he can tell that your pulse is rioting now?

He’s always been pretty, flirty and overly friendly to you and you’ve never known where to put all that.

Dick is gorgeous, he’s been gorgeous from the moment you’d been recruited here from the Bat, but he’s also never been by himself since you’ve been here- a little bit of a relationship man and while you’d love to pursue that, you don’t know if your poor heart will handle his flirty unleashed.

“It’s not so bad, just a little jagged so the stitching is going to hurt a bit. I’m sorry.”

Dick tuts, his heart clenching at how considerate you are- then he wonders if that’s just your bedside manner.

“No need for that, I can take a little pain.”

You nod, and get started with your needles and thread, closing up Dick’s wound with a steady hand.

“These are dissolvable, but they can still rip if you aren’t careful so you’re on bed rest until they dissolve.”

“How long will that take, angel? Trying to plan how many days I have with you.”

You clench your jaw to stop your smile, but Dick takes note of the way that your eyebrows jump and your eyes crinkle with little crow’s feet.

“A week or two for the most, but you can’t go around training like usual until they dissolve.”

He nods, “So what do you say to movie nights and reading challenges all week?”

You do let yourself smile then, Dick’s proposed things you like that he doesn’t necessarily find that mind blowing.

“And what will you do?” You ask, a vote of confidence to play along with his tease.

“Probably work on some tech stuff, but we’ll at least be together so you can have all the time in the world just staring at me till you’re ready to make a move.”

You grumble and scrub your face making Dick chuckle.

“That was mean, I’m sorry angel.” He coos and you look up to find him still smirking.

“Mhm, I totally believe you,” you finish his stitch and cover it with a piece of gauze and medical tape. “I don’t think I’ll be able to spend the entire week with you Grayson. I’ve got class.”

His eyebrows jump, “Class? Did you start a new programme?”

You nod, “Behavioral analysis.” Dick smiles, a little wicked at the confession. You move to his bicep, cleaning up the blood to find three claw-like marks tearing through his skin.

“Do you need real life case studies? I’ll be happy to help you out. You can analyse my behaviour when I’m with you.”

Your belly heats, and you’re sure the way you fluster is evident to Dick and that makes you feel even more bashful.

It’s clear he does feel a little bad about how flushed he’s making you when you feel his hand reach up to your cheek.

“I’ll stop for a little, angel. Don’t want you to pass out from all the heat you’re pushing out.”

“Dick!” You whine and he laughs, a full belly laugh that makes your frown turn to a small smile. “You’re the worst.”

You finish cleaning and dressing the scratches on his bicep, they only needed a few stitches on one of them.

“Oh am I?” He coos and you grumble, biting your lip to stop from swearing at him. “Okay okay, I’ll really stop now.” He promises; you look up at him through your lashes as you pull away from his hand and start cleaning up.

“Wanna watch a film with me?” He asks as you finish cleaning, his body suddenly tired now that he’s not worried about flirting and teasing you.

“One of your black and white French films?” It’s his turn to flush a little, clearly not expecting anyone to notice his choice in movies. “You always leave the disk in, and I don’t think anyone else is watching espionage French films except you.” You explain with a little smile.

“Maybe not a French one, we can do Russian or Spanish- I know you watch those.”

You shrug, “We can trade off, one French, one Spanish.”

Dick nods, groaning as he stands. His hand pressed tight to his side. “Why don’t you choose first, angel. Gonna get Alfred to sponge me off,” he pauses at the door, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he turns back to you. “Unless you want to do it, which I have zero objections to.”

“Go get your sponge bath Grayson, I’ll be in the media room.”

[lou-struck]

The Pickle Theory

Diavolo x reader

~While on a trip with you in the human world, Diavolo finds himself at the mercy of his worst enemy.

W.C- 2.6k

a/n: This was one of those prompts that I think of in the middle of the night and write it down in the notes app thinking that It would make sense in the morning... But I don't think I did Late Night Liza justice.

"Thank you for accompanying me on this little trip to the human world Mc, I would never have been able to figure out the intricacies of Human World Public transportation without your expertise." The Prince says warmly, his eyes alight with curiously as he takes in every inch of the sparsely populated city bus the two of you elected to ride.

Sure, there is enough room on this bus for each of you to have your personal space, but the demon is sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the tiny two-seat row, and you certainly would not have it any other way.

"It was no problem at all," you beam, finding humor in how strange it is to see such a large and gorgeous man trying to politely cram himself into his seat. "I hope that you were able to find something here that you want to incorporate into the devildom. Besides, you know me. I love a reason to get out into the sun with you."

His smile is just as blinding as the sun as he takes in every inch of your elated features, and he lets out a chuckle. "This trip of ours definitely has been useful, but more than that, I am delighted to have had an excuse to whisk you away to the human world without any of our usual distractions."

"It's nice to be able to spend some time alone with you," you say in agreement as the bus comes to a stop. Despite years of etiquette training, you see the pout on his face as he realizes that the errand that brought the two of you together is coming to an end, and the two of you will have to go back to the Devildom so he can get back to fulfilling his royal duties. 

"It seems we have reached the final stop on our route," he murmurs as the remaining passengers trickle out the doors. Through his shades, you can tell the driver is staring you down in the mirror. He clearly wants the two of you to get off his bus, but he's not gonna try and get snarky to someone of Diavolo's size.

Which is more than fair

You stand, and he follows suit, walking off the bus and onto the cobbled streets of an unfamiliar city. Your mind is fixated on what you can do to prolong this errand date. You want to spend more time with him, but as the Prince of the Devildom, his time is priceless. Much to your surprise, your thoughts are interrupted by the ferocious growling of your stomach growls ferociously. Your eyes widen as you look over to Diavolo in embarrassed shock. 

Amazedly, the Prince only tosses his head back in laughter. "What a wonderful idea, Mc. We simply could not return to the Devildom when we are in such a state of hunger. 

"Right. That was my plan," you chuckle, deciding to roll with his easy compliment. The sun is high in the sky, warming every inch of your exposed skin. Closing your eyes, you stop in your tracks to enjoy the sensation. You can feel his golden gaze even before you open your eyes. 

His expression is radiant as he takes in your look of contentment. But there is something else behind it that you can't quite place. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Nothing at all," he replies, a faint smile on his lips. "I simply wish to see that pleasant look on your face as much as possible."

There is a deep feeling in your gut that there is more he is not saying, but you choose to not push him further. "Aren't you charming? But don't forget that you are the one who makes me smile so much," you say coyly as the two of you resume walking the narrow path, drawing your bodies closer and closer to each other until you are walking side by side. The light accidental brushing of your hands sends flustered shivers up your spine. 

As the butterflies in your stomach threaten to carry you away, you take a peek at Diavolo's face to see if he is anywhere near as flustered as you, but the Prince's face is a mask of nonchalant charm. Looking at him was definitely the wrong thing to do in this situation because he looks even more stunning in the light of the day. Sunlight radiates off his hair, giving it a rich, coppery glow, and his dark skin seems to shine with an otherworldly beauty. 

Men and women alike misstep as they catch a glimpse of his inhuman good looks, but his eyes remain focused on the path ahead. You can't tell if he is oblivious to the way his regal features draw attention or if he is so used to it it doesn't bother him in the slightest.

You become painfully aware of just how clammy your hands have become in this sweltering heat and try to not bump him again. 

Clearly, he isn't trying as hard (at all) as his hand brushes yours once again. Out of the corner of your eye, you just see a flash of a smirk grace his lips. "Perhaps we should hold hands, Mc."

"You wouldn't mind?" you ask, subtly wiping your hand on the fabric of your shorts.

"Certainly, it's only natural for human couples to want to hold hands when they are on a date."

You smile as his logic wins over your insecurities; when he takes your hand, you aren't sure if it's your time in the Devildom rubbing off on you or if it's your inner pettiness, but the dejected looks that appear on strangers' faces when they see that he is taken brings you joy. 

With his hand in your, it's easy to lose track of time. You aren't sure how long you have been walking until he stops abruptly. "Oh my, what is that smell?" 

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in. Even with your inferior sense of smell, you are able to pick up the warm, comforting smell of freshly baked bread. "That smells amazing," you say, covering your mouth with your hand to hide how much you're drooling.

"It does smell wonderful; how about we stop here for a quick meal?" He offers you don't have to be a mind reader to know that he would be over the moon if you said yes. 

"I would love to," you smile, walking under the painted archway and into an adorable-looking cafe. Large, thriving potted plants outnumber the number of patrons in this thriving business as you scan the dining area for a place to sit. In the very corner, you see a perfect little booth for the two of you to grab. 

"let's head over to that table real quick; once we're seated, we can order our lunch at the counter and enjoy ourselves." You walk confidently, knowing that Diavolo will follow. 

"Everything here looks wonderful," Diavolo says as he scans the menu, "Do you know what you would like to get?"

You furrow your brow and read it yourself but find yourself unable to narrow your options down. "Not yet, I can't decide." You whine, "COuld you choose for me?"

"Of course I can," he laughs, standing to his feet. "I'll go up to the counter and make it a surprise."

There is a spring in his step as he steps up to the counter. He learned how to order food at restaurants on your last visit, and he is extremely eager to show off what he has learned. When he comes back and slides into the booth, he looks very proud of himself.

"Did you do it?" you ask.

He nods and places a white-numbered flag on the tabletop. "I did; this little date of ours has made me want to host a human world café event at RAD so everyone gets to experience this. "That would be such a great idea," you agree, already wondering what kind of trouble awaits the lot of you when the event goes underway. 

The Prince's excitement is contagious, and the two of you chatter excitedly about the semantics until nature calls for you to go to the restroom. You excuse yourself politely as you try to figure out where in this swanky place the bathroom is.

~ 

As Diavolo stares across the booth at your empty seat, all he can think of is how much he cares about you. 

Getting to spend time with you away from everyone else is more valuable than any of the crown jewels in his palace. You are fascinating to him, even more so than the world in which you hail from.

But seeing how comfortable you are out in the sun sends pangs of guilt into his heart. He can't help but feel guilty for pulling you to the Devildom, away from everything, but he knows deep down that neither of you would change it for the world. 

He is so lost in thought he barely notices a shy server sliding two plates of mouth-wateringly delicious-looking sandwiches onto the table before scurrying away from the gorgeous yet intimidating demon.

He eyes his sandwich hungrily. The bread smells even better now that it's fresh and inches away from him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the aroma. All of his manners scream at him to wait just a moment longer for you to come back, but he can't help himself. 

He reaches for the first half of the sandwich but stops just shy of the crust when he spots something that makes his blood run cold. 

It's Slimy…

It's Disgusting…

It's the very bane of his existence…

"Pickles," he breathes, staring down at the lumpy green vegetable sitting inconspicuously on the edge of his plate. Now that he has seen it, its slimy, pungent aroma that so many others adore invades his senses. 

He can't look away from it, even as he feels his stomach twist with hausa. It's almost as if he had just eaten one of Solomon's Mystery soups the sorcerer sometimes brings to the castle to share.

What should he do?

Years of etiquette classes have taught him that, as a prince, it is rude to refuse to eat something on his plate. 

Even if he hates it. 

Even if looking at that particular something makes him feel as if his skin is turning green.

He gulps nervously as he is faced with the severity of the predicament he finds himself in. He is representative of the Devildom; it would be rude to show up to the human world and refuse the food that he has been given.

"Wow, it's here already?" your sweet voice pulls the future king of Hell from his brine-filled thoughts. His golden gaze shoots up at you quickly, watching intently as you slide into the red leather booth. You look down at your plate with a smile before glancing up at him. "It's not much, but for some humans, going to the bathroom at a restaurant and coming back to see that their food has been delivered is the closest thing they will ever get to magic."

"What a wonderful outlook," he exclaims. "Human creativity has no bounds. I find the more I learn of them, the more I am inclined to admire them."

"You give us far too much credit," you laugh, but he can tell that your attention has been taken by the beautiful sandwich in front of you. You look up quickly, and he sees the cute way your features twist in embarrassment. "Sorry, I got a little distracted. This sandwich you got for me looks so delicious it would be a shame to not eat it."

"Then please, dig in." he chuckles, gesturing to the plate. But to his surprise, you don't eat yet. Instead, you look at him with wide eyes as if you are waiting for him to eat his own meal.

But he can't…

Not when that thing is on his plate.

"Diavolo, is everything alright?" you ask, surely noticing how tightly he is clenching his fist. 

He feels his cheeks heating up in embarrassment, and he tears his gaze away from the dreaded pickle. "It's nothing."

Suddenly, your body shifts in your seat, and he feels a slight tap on his shin. It take him a moment to realize what exactly just happened. "Mc, did you just…Kick me?"

"I did," you admit bashfully as if you just remembered that you have assaulted the ruler of the Devildom with your Skechers.  "But only because you weren't telling me what's bothering you."

This unfamiliar sensation of being playfully battered fills his only-child heart with warmth, and he bursts out laughing. "you truly are gifted when it comes to getting someone to open up, Mc." he caves and spins his plate towards you so you can see the accursed pickle. 

"oh, your sandwich came with a pickle. I understand now." And just like that, you reach across the table, grab the pickle, and eat it like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.

"what did I do to deserve you? "He asks when you finish disposing of the problem. 

"It's just the pickle theory." You say with a laugh; he feels very confused and looks at you to continue. "Some people say that a relationship is perfect when one person hates pickles and the other loves them. That way, you'll always have someone who will eat your pickles, so you don't have to. It's not just pickles, though; it's olives, onions, and anything else that you can think of. But it's fate that we are here today, and you happen to hate pickles."

Although your explanation is ridiculous, Diavolo lets out an unrefined snort of laughter. Quickly, he covers his mouth with his hand, a practiced gesture he's done frequently under the watchful eye of his trusted Butler. Instead of wanting to scold him, you let out a hearty laugh of your own. The sound is not beautiful in any way, but it makes his heart thump wildly in his chest as he stares at you.

"So this is Fate?"

"I think so," you murmur, looking at him with an expression he cannot quite place.

"What's with that look?" He asks, raising a brow.

" It's nothing; I just like getting to see the side of you. I hope to see it more," you say earnestly.

He reaches across the table to grab your hand, and he stares deeply into your eyes with the look of a man in love as he makes a promise to you. "Whatever world we are in, I will do my absolute best to give you whatever it is you desire, Mc. 

Your eyes are full of tender emotion as he looks at you. "Would you really do anything for me?" you ask in a sweet voice and he finds himself nodding naïvely, he is completely under the spell of your charm. It's almost as if you are the demon who is corrupting the mortal.

But he knows you and rightfully trusts you with all his heart. One of the reasons he finds himself so drawn to you is that you would never in a million years take advantage of his love.

"Even though I just had a pickle, would you kiss me?" you ask, an endearing little smirk on your lips that has the Prince subconsciously leaning over the table towards you.

"If that is what you want, then nothing would deter me from granting such a request." he smiles, capturing your lips with his, not caring about anything other than the taste of you.

Tagging; @sleepyyshroom, @i-need-to-go-like-mangogo , @starbbyy, @sarah22447, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf ,  @ourfinalisation, @anjodedesgostoeerros, @isaacdaknight @qardasngan

[flowerandblood]

The Gate of Salvation [1/3]

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, anxiety, manipulation, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]

[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The Song of Songs (Oneshot) Death and Ressurection (Oneshot)

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

What happened after the conclave took everyone by surprise and caused complete chaos in the Catholic Church; she was one of the people who watched the live coverage from St Peter's Square.

She prayed in spirit that her uncle and her mother's brother, Cardinal Reene, would not become Pope.

Admittedly, it was thanks to him that she was living in Rome, and without his financial support she would not have been able to study, however, her uncle was a person who did nothing selflessly.

He recalculated to himself that if his niece wanted to study marketing at University then he would help her, reminding her at times that he would count on her help in the future, to create a good, sympathetic image of him.

She had the feeling that listening to him she was even losing her faith, which, despite her many internal disputes and doubts, was strong in her. She returned to the bosom of the church of her own free will when she was in high school after years of not attending Mass; she discovered that she felt attached to this tradition, as well as to God himself, whose presence she subconsciously felt all around her.

She knew that her uncle would certainly try to bribe other cardinals and she guessed what his pontificate would be like, so she begged God in her prayers not to allow such a man to become head of the church in his name, and heavens, as always, heard her prayers.

When she saw the white smoke on the screen she let out a loud breath, closing the textbook she had just been reading – she heard shouts and applause of joy coming from the television; the bells rang out, the solemn moment when the new pope comes out onto the balcony to greet his faithful was about to begin.

This went on for an astonishingly long time and she wondered if something had happened or if the votes had been miscounted, however, she heard the cheers of the crowd again as the doors opened. What stepped out was not a procession, but an ordinary priest in a black cassock; she recognised in him the secretary of the late Pope, who was certainly not a cardinal.

He seemed tense and frightened; he approached the microphone and said only two sentences.

"We have a Pope. The Holy Father, who has taken the name Pius XIII, asks you all to pray for him." He said in a trembling, uncertain voice, all pale, and then disappeared back behind the door – voices of disbelief and disappointment spread throughout the square, the gathered people, like her, were shocked.

However, all the internet portals published the name of the cardinal who had been elected; it turned out that the new pope was Cardinal Targaryen, a very little-known, withdrawn and shockingly young priest.

He was only two years older than her.

Journalists despaired that there were no official or unofficial photos of him, no statements from him, as if he had lived for years locked away in some monastery and never stepped into the light of day.

The world was confused and anxious – the young pope had not stepped out onto the balcony of St Peter's Basilica even once despite the crowds gathered in the square below chanting his name day and night.

She wondered if, in this way, he wanted to focus the world's attention even more on himself by standing in the absolute centre of it, and thought that if so, it was not a good beginning to his pontificate.

Two days later, her uncle paid her an unannounced visit at the flat he was renting to her, dressed so that no one would recognise him, just like the other cardinals still hounded by journalists and paparazzi.

"I need your help. The matter is very delicate." He said quickly, handing her his coat, which she hung on one of the hangers, looking at him over her shoulder in surprise.

"Me?" She asked with her eyes wide open, wondering what was going on there that required the help of someone from outside the Vatican.

"Pius XIII is a cripple. He lost his left eye as a child. He insists that if he is to show himself to a crowd, it should only be with his artificial eye, but not an ordinary one, one that resembles the real one, but a completely white one. He thinks this suits his attire and position better, but we think it will create additional confusion about him. Additionally, he wants to keep the Pope's public appearances to a complete minimum. He has fired all the Vatican marketing people with years of experience. This is some madness. Can I have a coffee?" He finally asked after his verbosity, sitting down in a chair at the living room table, placing his black wide-brimmed hat on the tabletop, sighing heavily.

She nodded, snapped out of her reverie and the shock of his words, pulling a mug and black coffee from her cupboard. Her uncle drank coffee made from three heaped teaspoons without milk, and although she didn't know how he could swallow something so disgusting and not have a heart attack in the process, she made it the way he liked it.

She swallowed loudly, pouring water into the kettle, putting it on the burner and turning the fire on under it, analysing everything he had told her.

"It sounds like he has a very low and a very high opinion of himself at the same time. How could I help here, uncle? I'm just a student." She said in dismay, shrugging her shoulders; her uncle nodded his head as if convinced that this would be her answer.

"You are young, you have a fresh outlook. He doesn't want to listen to us old people, he thinks we're out of step with the world and what it needs, whatever that means." He said with a sneer, looking out of the window, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a creak of wood.

"I'd like you to try to talk to him, to understand what he means, what his vision is. Guide him to the idea that young people too want peace and predictability, not perpetual rebellion. I told him I could introduce you, that you are very talented and he agreed." He said finally and scratched the back of his neck – she heard the kettle whistle and turned off the fire under it, feeling that she had simply run out of words.

"− what? − I − oh God, uncle, I don't know − what if I make things worse and you lose in his eyes because of me? −" She muttered, feeling adrenaline start to bubble throughout her body; she poured hot water over the coffee in her mug, grabbed it and set it in front of him, then started walking back and forth across the room, panicking in some kind of way.

"This would just be a consultation − two young people want to change the image of the church to, let's say, a more welcoming one − this could be your big chance." He said, lifting the mug to his lips, taking a sip from it and murmuring contentedly, apparently finding that his coffee was exactly the way he liked it.

He persuaded her for so long that she finally agreed, but she regretted it as soon as he walked out.

She was inexperienced in discussions with this world, with such people, and was afraid she would make a mistake, do something against protocol and embarrass herself.

Her uncle sent her a message on the day of the meeting saying that she must dress modestly, preferably in white or black, her dress must end at least past her knees, her toes must not stick out of her shoes, her shoulders must be covered. Sharp, defiant make-up was not acceptable.

She was to address the Pope as Holy Father or Your Holiness, keep the proper distance, not sit with her legs crossed, not put her elbows on the armrests, not lean or crouch in front of him, approach him only if he wanted her to kiss his ring.

The amount of information she received overwhelmed her; she took a quick look in her wardrobe and found that her simple black dress with white embroidered collar and cuffs was the perfect length – it had no cleavage, it looked elegant, innocent and girly at the same time.

She decided to wear flesh-coloured tights with it and sleek black shoes, which she had previously polished. She styled her long dark hair in a braid around her head, keeping it in place with pins, short, unruly strands on the sides of her face.

She used only mattifying powder and mascara as her make-up, deciding that this was enough, around her neck a necklace with a small gold cross that she had been given once by her grandfather.

At the appointed hour, a black car pulled up in front of her townhouse; she got into the back seat and greeted the driver, who, however, did not answer her, driving off without a word.

After several minutes they were already in the Vatican itself; she looked through the car window at the crowds of people spilling out of St Peter's Square, saw a group of men and women holding cardboard sheets in their hands with the handwritten words:

Our Pope does not love us.

She lowered her gaze, silently contemplating all that was happening, and shuddered as they stopped in front of the gate – a Swiss Guard officer dressed in colourful historical attire with red, yellow and navy blue stripes stopped their car.

Her driver showed him his ID and the man nodded – the gate opened and they drove inside into a small courtyard that she saw for the first time in her life.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the figure of her uncle waiting for her in his full, opulent cardinal's robe, a cross on his chest of pure gold, adorned with rubies and diamonds.

He greeted her with a broad smile and joy, with a gesture of his hand inviting her inside – they ascended the baroque staircase to the corridor, the view of the interior of the entire complex took her breath away.

She was surrounded on all sides by paintings and sculptures by the great Italian masters of the Renaissance, Baroque and Classicism; she felt a solemn mood, though she did not know why, as if she had in fact entered the truest home of God himself on earth.

The guards as well as other men passing her looked at her intently – she thought with horror and shame that women, with the exception of nuns, were a rare visitor to this sanctuary and aroused curiosity mixed with distrust.

Here, what Eve did in paradise according to the Bible, because of whom sin possessed man, was never forgotten.

They climbed the stairs to the upper floor and then stood in front of a large white door, high up to the ceiling, with two men in the same colourful garments standing in front of them. Her uncle sighed heavily, as if stressed himself, and looked at her comfortingly.

"I'll do the talking, you keep quiet for now." He said lightly, surprising her completely – she had no time to reply as he nodded and one of the guards opened the door for him.

Her uncle moved ahead, so she moved behind him, entering a spacious, bright room with six windows overlooking St Peter's Square – to their right stood bookcases filled to the brim with books, and to their left a huge wooden desk.

Only after a moment did she notice someone standing by one of the windows; he was turned to them with his back, looking out at the crowds knowing they couldn't see him, a white cassock on his body, his short hair looking elegant and carefully styled, pulled back, almost white, glistening in the sunlight.

"Holy Father. As promised, I bring before you my niece, who I hope will allow us to come to an agreement." He said in a light, cheerful tone, as if addressing a friend, but they were answered by an uncomfortable silence.

She swallowed loudly when he finally turned to face them, her heart stopped for a moment when she saw how sharply shaped his face was – his cheeks and jaw were clearly outlined as if someone had carved them with a chisel, his mouth full, a pale scar running across the left side of his forehead to his cheek, his artificial eye completely white.

She felt that she was looking at him with her lips slightly parted and some sort of concern, so she lowered her gaze, reminding herself that she shouldn't do that.

"Hm." She heard him hum under his breath, as if he was thinking hard about something.

"Leave us alone, Cardinal." He said finally, turning his face towards the window again – she and her uncle looked at each other horrified, for this was not their plan.

She was only going to be an accessory, he was going to be the one doing all the talking.

"Your Holiness, I…"

"Get out."

Her uncle pressed his lips together and grunted, bowed his head and left, not even bestowing a glance on her despite the despair written on her face, leaving her to her fate.

She swallowed loudly as the door closed behind him and intertwined her hands in front of her, not knowing what to do, where to look, a cold sweat on her back.

"Do not be afraid, child. I know your uncle's nature. If I didn't let him bring you here he wouldn't let me alone." He began reluctantly, as if the very fact that he had to talk to her made him very tired; he moved with his hands entwined behind him ahead, walking along the windows, his profile illuminated by the sun.

She lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of shame surge through her, understanding that he knew perfectly well what her uncle wanted.

That it wasn't just about his image, but that he, as a cardinal, wanted his favour and the high position, money and comfort he could give him.

"What do you think of my decision not to show myself in public?" He asked finally; she raised her eyes at him, surprised, horrified that she had to answer. She swallowed loudly and licked her lips, dry of stress, thinking intensely about what she should say.

"Go on. You're supposed to know it, after all, it's an image issue." He growled and looked at her with an anger that sent a shiver through her; she stared at him in disbelief and fear trying to decide what kind of man he was.

She wasn't sure this was how a pope should behave.

"Driving here I saw people holding cardboard sheets saying: Our Pope does not love us. I felt sadness at the thought that many people feel rejected by your decision, Holy Father." She said at last, feeling that involuntarily her voice trembled and broke; she saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils moved nervously in accelerated breathing.

"Is love a perpetual vying for attention, standing in the centre? Is love only the deeds that can be shown, that anyone can see and name?" He asked frustrated, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, her lower lip quivered. She shook her head.

"People are afraid of what they do not know. You don't let them meet you, Holy Father." She whispered, and he snorted, turning back, going the other way, as if thinking over her words.

"So you think I should speak? Go out on the balcony and give them what they want?" He asked dryly. She let the air quietly out of her lungs, feeling her body tense all over – she had the feeling that she had adopted a defensive posture, as if ready for him to hit her.

"No. But I think it is necessary to find a way in which they can see you, Holy Father. To feel that you are in their lives physically as well. They need a guide, not another invisible God." She said finally and fell silent, lowering her gaze, feeling that her last sentence might have been too far-fetched.

She noticed with horror that he stopped hearing what she had said.

"You think I'm doing this out of vanity?" He asked in disbelief. She lifted her gaze to him, for some reason feeling that she was on the verge of crying.

"I don't know, Holy Father. I do not know you, nor do any of your faithful. We are sheeps who do not know where to go and where is their shepherd. Do you think we are too sinful? That we don't deserve to see you?" She asked finally in a trembling voice, his healthy eye fixed on her.

Our Pope does not love us.

She shuddered, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart as he moved towards her with a slow, lazy step, not taking his eyes off her, towering over her. She didn't know what she saw in his gaze, proud and cool; she felt heat in her lower abdomen as the pleasant scent of his masculine perfume filled her nostrils.

She thought he had approached her far too closely.

She froze and swallowed loudly as he lifted his hand; she thought for a moment in horror and disbelief that he would touch her breasts, however, he grasped her golden cross in his hand and turned it between his fingers, looking at it thoughtfully.

"I am not a hypocrite. There is no greater sinner in this world than me. I am vain. I am proud. I am cold. I am eternally, eternally thirsty." He murmured softly and looked into her eyes, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.

She felt panic begin to overtake her body as her insides throbbed wonderfully hard at his ambiguous, unsettling words.

Something about him she found disturbing, even though she was surrounded by whiteness and daylight it seemed to her that the room had gone dark.

She was only able to breathe and look at him, nothing more.

"Do you believe in God?" He asked, still playing with her necklace, however, he did so in such a way that once in a while his fingers rubbed against the material of her dress lying between her breasts, each time a wonderful shiver ran through her spine.

There was something evil, menacing, lewd in the way he asked the question, in the way he acted and the way he looked at her and she knew it, she was horrified by how strongly her body reacted to it.

"Yes." She whispered, as if she was admitting something she was ashamed of, something that was her secret.

He hummed again under his breath, as if accepting her words – his hand let go of her necklace and returned to the other, placed behind his back.

"I'm hiring you. You will be my image specialist. I expect you here tomorrow at 8am. That's all. You may go." He said indifferently, turning away as if nothing had happened; she sighed quietly, terrified, and nodded with a rapidly pounding heart.

"Holy Father." She mumbled, then turned and walked out.

Her uncle ran after her asking her what they were talking about and what had happened – he made the sign of the cross with some kind of relief on his face when she told him in horror that he had hired her.

"What did you say to him about me? I'm only in my second year of university, I don't have the right experience yet." She muttered in a trembling voice; her uncle sighed, correcting his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger.

"He doesn't care about your experience." He said amused, and she looked at him in disbelief.

It suddenly dawned on her what her uncle had been planning all along, and what she had gotten herself into because of her foolishness and naivety.

There is no greater sinner in this world than me.

I am eternally, eternally thirsty.

She felt a squeeze in her throat, tears filling her eyes again as she moved forward, covering her mouth with her hand, distraught, humiliated.

Her uncle didn't want her to be his worker.

Her uncle wanted her to be his lover.

_____

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[batboyblog]

2016 is often considered the point when leftism managed to get itself into the mainstream and became more popular, but I honestly can't help but wonder, given the sheer descent into conspiracy theory and selfish cruelty of the current state, whether in hindsight it was actually leftism's step into decline.

I've been thinking about this a lot, sadly I'm getting the start of a Migraine, so the edges of my thoughts are all fuzzy so idk if I'll be able to do what I think justice, but lets try.

The human mind doesn't really like complexity, it'd a pattern recognition machine built to find food and stuff that thinks you're food in the African brush. So we like to find patterns and lump stuff together, its hardwired in.

so "Leftism" I do understand what you mean, but I think it covers a really wide area.

and I think in politics we like to assign ideological and policy logic to things to political movements, it has to be about a coherent and rational ideology and world view we think. But... I think, often times it's emotional as much as anything. Did people vote for JFK or Reagan so much for policy as they, personally in their person, seemed to be the antidote to what was wrong in the moment? JFK seemed young and energetic when compared to an elderly and ill President Eisenhower, Reagan had the claiming aging leading man energy to make everyone feel like it'd be okay, a movie cowboy to lead us against bad guys we didn't understand while nice guy Jimmy Carter seemed stuck.

So back to 2016, I think there was so real ideology to start. The Left of the Democratic Party felt empowered after 2006, the left of the party had been against the Iraq War from the jump and that turned into the organizing issue that pushed Republicans out of power in 2006. A San Fran liberal, founding member of the House Progressive Cause was the first woman Speaker (and in favor of gay marriage too). In 2008 the Left of the party for largely emotional reasons sided with Obama over Clinton, even though they largely overlapped on policy and where there were (minor) differences she was to his left.

so riding high from two back to back wins, having gotten a lot of progressives elected to the House and Senate (like Bernie Sanders) progressive Dems were pretty let down by the real results, the ACA got bogged down and their dearest wish list item, the public option, which Pelosi fought for so hard, failed to make it into the final bill, and then 2010, a blood bath. And understandably there's been some frustration with Obama for not living up to the hype and also failing to really focus on state level races, Democrats got tarred hard

BUT! there's also an emotional side, Occupy Wall Street. I remember at the time being interested in it, I was young and more radical, but soon I got really frustrated because they had no demands, I watched every night MSNBC which was very sympathetic, but no one could articulate what it is they wanted, past a vague idea of "punish" the guilty.

I think there's a lot of restless frustration, some of it grounded and based in reality some of it not, in this country and its only grown over time as well as a contempt for and a break down of any kind of respect for experts and norms any anything established.

SO! I think that emotion latched onto Bernie and the left of the Democratic Party. As someone who worked that election I can tell you, at first knocking doors in New Hampshire, I got the taste of the very start of the campaign. And people would say "oh I'm voting for Bernie now, but I'll vote for Hillary in the general" but soon it went from friendly, from "we're pushing her to the left" to something bitter and angry. I had Bernie supporters tell me 1990s Fox News conspiracy theories around the Clintons, I had a Bernie supporter (in the general election) follow two college girl volunteers for blocks back to our office to SCREAM at us all.

Bernie won the New Hampshire Primary pretty commandingly that year, and partly because he had a strong volunteer network. But in the general despite many efforts we could barely get any of his regular volunteers to come work with us against Trump. I remember one lady who showed up just once and looked RIP SHIT! to be there, I think she said that all the positive stuff we said about Clinton, at a canvass launch for Clinton, made her "sick" and "don't expect me to say anything nice about her!" and she was one of only a tiny number of Bernie people who showed up in the general so she was better than some.

I remember the only Bernie Volunteer we got to become a regular. He'd knocked doors for months in New Hampshire for Bernie, organized his own phone bank into Nevada for their primary, drove down to South Carolina and spent the week before their primary knocking. Clearly a true believer, and when he decided to volunteer with us they kicked him out of the Facebook group he started and stopped speaking to him. I'll always remember what he said, that around the Bernie office they used to say that "a Trump voter was just a Bernie voter who hasn't been educated yet"

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, there were real motivations of the progressives and the left of the party, real policy based frustrations, particularly around how health care worked out, and I think Bernie Sanders himself was running because of that and to express that. But it tapped into something else, something not really political and much more emotional, rage and bitterness and a need to punish, the same energizes Trump taps into. It made a permission to be nasty to people you don't like, particularly women, I won't repeat the things people said on the phones, horrible.

now in 2024, almost 10 years later, there's a lot more depression mixed in, Trump talks about America as a 3rd world country all the time, there's just a vibe of having given up, hopelessness. There's a genocide and everything is horrible and hopeless and give up and die.

I don't believe in giving up, I don't believe in bitterness, I'm not a sunny person in real life, but I believe the point of politics, the politics I'm a part of, is lifting people up. It might be corny and uncool, but I believe in America, not that we're prefect, no, we're not, but together we've done great things, we fought a world war and went to the moon, and we can do great things together still always if we believe in each other, build each other up, stop being so afraid and weak and sad. I want to be beat fascism again, I want to go to the moon again, I want to beat climate change, and finally finally make the promise that all men are created equal REAL, and I don't believe in hiding behind walls, and crying that we can't do it any more, fuck that shit.

[aishangotome]

Clavis Lelouch: Even If I Can No Longer Play Pranks

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

Thank you @dark-frosted-heart for providing the SE video!

—

Under the gentle sunlight, we went on a picnic date to the lakeside, but...

Emma tilted her head, puzzled, at the cupcake she took out of the basket.

Clavis: What's wrong? Not in the mood for cupcakes?

Emma: No, it looks delicious, but I'm a little surprised it's not homemade by you, Clavis...

Clavis: I heard it's popular in town.

Clavis: But I didn't realize you were craving my special cake... I've failed as a fiancé.

Emma: Of course I miss it, but I'm very happy with the cupcakes too.

Emma: I'll have one right away!

Clavis: Yes, I've prepared all kinds for you. Enjoy them to your heart's content.

Seeing Emma happily munching on the cupcakes fills me with contentment.

(I'm changing things up today. I don't want to bore her by doing the same thing all the time.)

(...But it's unsettling to not have anything planned.)

Emma: As expected of a famous cake. It's really delicious.

Emma: But I guess it's a little lonely without your special cake, Clavis.

Clavis: To hear such words, you've truly been influenced by me.

Emma: I've experienced so many of your pranks that I've had no choice but to get used to it.

(Ah, usually - no, even since I was young, I've always tried to get attention with pranks.)

(Otherwise, an ordinary person like me would fade into the background.)

(But now it's different. Even without trying to get attention, you look at me more than anyone else.)

(Still, I can't help but wonder...)

(What if you get tired of me someday and leave me?)

Even though I know it's unlikely, I can't help but think about it sometimes.

Clavis: Then, I must think of even more outlandish pranks that you can't get used to.

Emma: No, it's alright. Really.

Clavis: Don't be shy, don't be shy.

(The reason why I still have the bad habit of playing pranks on Emma to get her attention is)

(Probably because I'm unconsciously trying to prevent myself from doing so.)

(But if, by any chance, I can't even play pranks anymore...)

He offered her a book with a ribbon.

Emma accepted it as if examining it, opened the cover, and looked at it closely.

And finally, as if she had decided it was an ordinary book, her expression changed to one of suspicion again.

Emma: Clavis... did you eat something bad? Or did you have a nightmare?

Emma: Or are you feeling down... If you have any worries, please tell me!

Clavis: Haha, you're overthinking it. I'm always a devoted man - there's nothing strange, okay?

Clavis: Now, there's no one to disturb us here. Enjoy reading to your heart's content by the quiet lakeside.

Emma: That's fine, but...

Emma: But it's true that it's a happy time to be able to read a book while eating delicious food under the warm sun.

(That's right, that's right. I knew you'd be happy as a book lover, and my plan worked.)

As Emma finally smiled brightly and opened the book, the edges of the pages fluttered in the wind.

Clavis: It's getting a little windy. Even though it's good weather for a picnic, aren't you cold? That's right...

Emma: Wah...

I picked Emma up and sat her on my lap.

Clavis: You don't have to worry about that if you read like this.

Emma: Clavis, you just put me on your lap and didn't do anything... What's wrong with you today?

(She's worried, but her earlobes are bright red. Oh no, she's so cute I want to take a bite... my wicked heart aches...)

But determined to stick to my resolve, I cleared his throat and returned a gentlemanly smile.

Clavis: What? Do you think the only thing you can do without distractions is read?

Emma: Meaning...?

Clavis: It's just the two of us here, the perfect setting for a little fun with my fiancée, wouldn't you agree?

(When the time comes that I can't play pranks anymore, how will I confront this love and keep Emma's attention...?)

(Thinking about that time, I need to devise ways to capture her attention now, not through pranks, but through more straightforward methods.)

(As a first step, I've decided to thoroughly spoil Emma today.)

Emma: ...Does this mean today is a no-prank day?

Clavis: A peaceful day like this isn't so bad, is it?

Having dodged her probing question, Emma opened her mouth again with a serious and loving look in her eyes.

Emma: Isn't Clavis only Clavis when he's playing pranks?

Emma: I'm always prepared to handle those pranks, so don't hold back now.

(It must only be Emma who would face my pranks head-on like this.)

Clavis: I see, so simply being loved isn't enough for you?

Emma: I don't want to agree, but thanks to someone, it seems I've become that kind of person.

Clavis: Haha, there's no other woman as spirited and delightful as you.

Clavis: That's what makes you my beloved fiancée.

Emma: If you understand, then that's all that matt—mm!

As she wished, without waiting for her to finish, I parted her lips with a mischievous kiss and entwined my tongue with her surprised one.

Her body trembled slightly on my lap, probably because she was starting to feel the sweet sensation.

Emma: ...C-Couldn't we save the rest for when we're back?

Clavis: I told you, it's just the two of us here.

Clavis: The perfect place to make love, wouldn't you say?

As I slid my hand from under her skirt and caressed her thigh, Emma's eyes moistened with heat.

Emma: ...B-But there's no guarantee someone won't come, right?

Clavis: Don't worry, I've made sure no one will come near for a while.

Clavis: Now, think of this as another one of your requested pranks, my fiancée.

As I kissed her gently, conveying all my love, I made a deep vow in my heart.

(I will continue to search for ways to keep you by my side with love in the form of pranks.)

(And even when the day comes that I can't play pranks anymore, I swear to continue my love for you.)

FIN

[roastedoatmilk]

Daisies and Tulips

Kento Nanami x Reader

Summary: The first year trio help Nanami pick out a bouquet of flowers for his partner

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff to the MAX, itafushi mention, nanami is in love with reader, megumi knows a lot about flowers, the trio being their silly selves

Little Things Masterlist

This is also available on ao3

A/N I hope you guys enjoy this part as much as I enjoyed writing it !! As always reblogs and comments are always very appreciated

Kento Nanami loved this time of year, the three beautiful months where both of his love’s favorite flowers bloom at the same time. It had been tricky at first trying to figure out a time where he would be able to purchase both of them together but after years of being with you he has nailed it down, so now as soon as it hits March 1st the blond heads to the local flower shop once a week to create a bouquet that never failed to make a smile grace your face. 

On this particular day just as Kento was getting ready to leave the school for the day, a rambunctious trio of first years bounded up to him right as he locked his door. The first grade sorcerer exhaled deeply at the sight of the teens, who hadn’t given him a moment of peace since the night that they had dinner with him and his partner. 

“What can I do for the three of you now?” The man questioned the trio.

The three students quickly looked at each other, having a silent conversation before turning back to the older man. Yuji steps forward seemingly being the one who was elected to speak. 

“Nanamin we were just wondering what sort of things you do for your partner to make their day?” The young boy’s brown eyes beamed up at Kento wide in curiosity. 

Nobara then cleared her throat and added on “Yeah you seem like the type to be a secret hopeless romantic, you both have been together for a while so I’m sure there’s at least one thing that you do for them since they haven’t dumped you yet.” 

Megumi says nothing but just nods along with what the other two are saying. Kento lets out a sigh, the sides of his mouth twitching as he tries not to smile. The fact that the teens are so eager to learn about you and about his relationship with you warms both his heart and your own. 

“Well this time of year I like to go to a flower shop and make a bouquet of their favorite flowers since there is only a short time frame where they both grow at the same time.” The blond man stated, no longer fighting off the urge to smile. 

Nobara and Yuji awed at hearing this while their raven haired counterpart flushes at the mention of said flower shop. Not long ago Megumi had run into the elder man and his partner at the shop looking at flowers. Kento had obviously recognized the boy and greeted him, causing you to greet the green eyed boy as well. Megumi, who had been overcome with embarrassment at interrupting this moment, stuttered out a greeting and introduced himself before turning around and booking it in the opposite direction. Thinking back to that moment causes the young teen to accidentally groan out loud, interrupting the onslaught of questions that the other two first years were asking Nanami.

Yuji’s head jerks in his boyfriend’s direction, concern evident in his eyes. The black haired boy flushed even deeper before waving Yuji off. Kento cleared his throat before stepping away from the trio.

“If that is all I really must be going, the shop closes in a few hours and I need to make it there before then.” The man spoke silently hoping that the answer he gave them would suffice. 

“Why don’t we go with you so that we can help?” Yuji asked his mentor, eyes mimicking that of a puppy. Nobara and Megumi nod in agreement.

Kento once again sighs before nodding his head at the pink haired boy, the trio cheered in response. The four then made their way to the flower shop. It was a relatively short walk, Nobara and Yuji filling the silence with their banter. Once they arrived Kento opened the door and held it for the trio, the bell chiming in the distance. 

“Ahhh welcome back Mr. Nanami, here for a bouquet for your partner?” The man behind the counter greeted the sorcerer, a smile on his face.

“Hello Haruto, yes I’m back for a bouquet, however this time these three are going to help me pick out the colors of the flowers.” Kento says before gesturing to the trio of teens.

The shopkeeper turned to the teens and asked “Well alright then, do any of you know the meanings of different flower colors.” 

Yuji looked at the other two puzzled and muttered “Flowers have meanings?” 

Nobara scoffs and says “Of course they do dumbass, I left my book about it in my dorm so I’m not going to be of much use.” a pout appearing on her face.

Megumi coughs before muttering, “I know a bit about the meanings of different flower colors.” the boy’s face once again a violent shade of red. 

His admittance of this caused Yuji and Nobara to look at him in complete shock, Megumi refused to meet their eyes instead focusing on the flowers in front of him. There was a wide variety of flowers spanning across the entire store, each type getting its own section with a multitude of colors. 

Megumi, still refusing to meet his peer’s eyes, turns to Nanami and asks, “What kind of flowers do they usually like?” His hands rubbing together, a clear sign that the boy is nervous.

“They like daisies and tulips, that’s why this time of year is perfect because it's the only time where they both bloom together.” The brown eyed sorcerer remarked with a small smile on his face. 

Megumi nods firmly before turning to Yuji and Nobara, grabbing their hands and dragging them over to the daisy section first. 

“Okay so for daisies I think we should get blue, they mean long-term commitment, trust, honesty and loyalty.” Megumi shares before continuing, “Then I figured we could go with red which is not only a classic but they also mean passion, romance, and devotion.” 

Yuji and Nobara stare at the green eyed boy in complete shock before grabbing a couple flowers of each color. Neither expected their fellow first year to have this much knowledge about flowers but considering he was raised by Gojo it doesn’t come as too much of a shock to them.

Once they have all of the daisies gathered Megumi makes his way over to where the tulip display is, taking a minute to look at all it has to offer. Yuji and Nobara stand quietly behind him as he observes, the two sharing a silent look of admiration for the boy. 

Megumi clears his throat before turning back around to face his friend and his boyfriend, “After looking over what they have I think we should get pink because they symbolize happiness, and I think we should also get orange because they represent passion and excitement.”

The boy plucks a couple flowers of each color from the display and turns back to his friends, “While its an uncommon combination of colors I think that the light blue of the daisies will look nice with the light pink of the tulips, and the red daisies with the orange tulips will also look nice.” Megumi explains. 

Yuji and Nobara nod in agreement, the teens then make their way over to the counter up front. Nanami is still standing there talking to the shopkeeper about you. 

“Yes, our five year anniversary is coming up soon and I already have the whole day planned out. The ring has been sitting in my pocket for months now but I just haven’t found the right time yet.” Kento whispers to the old man in front of him, as if he's trying to keep the proposal plan a secret.

The three teens gasp as they hear their mentor mention the ring, drawing the man’s attention to them. His eyes wide in shock, he wasn’t expecting them to hear about that. 

“Nanamin you’re going to propose to them??” Yuji asks, tears slightly welling up in his brown eyes at the idea of the man he admired so much taking such a big step in his life. 

“Come on, show us the ring I wanna see.” Nobara says moving her hand in a give me motion.

“I want to see it too.” Megumi utters his eyes darting in the opposite direction.

Kento sighs, taking off his goggles and pinching right between his eyes before reaching into his pocket and removing the velvet box that has been there for months. 

“Yes Itadori I will be proposing to them soon, now that everything has settled down and things aren’t as hectic.” Kento informed the trio before opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous ring. It was a silver band with leaf detailing all around it with a single pearl placed in the middle surrounded by even more leaf detailing. The three teens looked at the ring in awe knowing that you were going to love it. 

“Wow you sure know how to pick em Nanami.” Nobara admitted, her eyes transfixed on the ring.

“Yeah Nanamin they’re going to love it.” Yuji chimed in with even more tears in his eyes. 

“It’s beautiful, they'll love it.” Megumi agrees. 

Kento chuckles before closing the box and putting it back in his pocket, “Thank you, now let’s see what flowers the three of you picked out for them.” The blond man responded with a faint flush on his freckled face. 

The trio straighten up before showing their mentor the flowers they picked out. Nanami smiles before taking the flowers from each teen’s hand arranging them all together. 

“Wonderful work you three, I am sure they’ll be very happy with these.” Kento smiles at the kids. 

Kento hands the flowers to the shopkeeper so that they can be wrapped together and paid for. The shopkeeper smiles as he rings them up, having known you personally due to your former apprenticeship at the flower shop. 

“Have a great rest of your evening, they’re going to love them Kento.” The shopkeeper says before bidding them farewell.

Kento ushers the trio out of the shop and they make their way back to the school, the blond man making sure each teen makes it safely back to their dorms. Later that evening all three of the teens receive a text message from the man including a photo of you holding the bouquet with a wide grin and tears streaming down your face. Below the photo was a message that said “Thank you again for helping pick these out, they love them.”

A/N this is the ring

[alpaca-clouds]

Let me talk Anarchism

Okay, let me quickly talk about it, because I am so annoyed with this. For once in the way how it relates to Solarpunk, but also in relation to media. And yeah, choosing good old Hobie here, because while it was kinda played for humor with him a lot, he was one of the few characters in media I have seen, that are actually kinda a positive representation of anarchism.

You know, media in general misrepresents anarchism all the time. Sometimes for propaganda purposes, and sometimes because the creator does not know any better and has grown up with said propaganda themselves and just believe it. Most of the time, media hence represents Anarchism as "Society without rules!", which is most certainly not what anarchism is.

The word Anarchism comes from the Greek An Arkhos, which translates into "Without Rulers". That is exactly what Anarchism means. Anarchism is a political philosophy that aims to get rid of all unjustified, involuntary hierarchies.

This is, by the way, why Anarcho Capitalism might use the word, but can never be anarchist, because capitalism aims to build unjustifiable hierarchies. It is exactly the goal of the system. So Anarcho Capitalism is a contradiction in itself.

An anarchist society will still have rules. We know that, because there have actually been societies in history, that today we would call anarchist. It is just that instead of a sort of some group of people ruling over everyone else deciding on those rules, everyone would get to have their say in it. That is, why those historical examples of anarchism for the most part have sprung up in smaller, close-nit societies, because before the age of the internet it would've been rather hard to make everyone's voice heard.

If you are wondering: "But isn't democracy already doing that?" The answer is no. Because democracy is not working, due to the politicians having all the power and the populus not being able to force them to stick to whatever they promised during the election. We cannot recall politicians, who have lied to us. So for the most part, it is the people with big money, who influence the politics. People, who were not even elected, but who the politicians will try to please more than the average joe, who has voted for them. 

It is another reason, why a lot of anarchists are against the police. Not only do they use police violence, but they are in a position, where they are allowed to use it against people, often without much reprecussions. And all of that, without the people having any say in who does and does not get to be a police(wo)man. It is another unjustified hierarchy.

And, yes, it is also why anarchists tend to be against the concept of nation states. Because internationally some states rule over others. Colonialism might've ended on paper, but it has not ended in practice. The reason some nations are poor, while others are rich, is that the poor nations get exploited by rich nations. An unjustified hierarchy. And that is without starting on the fact how many borders have been drawn by people, who had no right to do so.

On the small scale, though, anarchism first and foremost is about helping people. Mutual aid is one of the core principles of the anarchist movement. Helping people, who got left behind by the unjustified state and the people who are in power. It is also about empowering people and allowing them to find their own voice.

See, here is the fact: One of the core believes in anarchy is, that people are actually not terrible. If the state stopped existing tomorrow, people would not run around, murder and pillage. They would still help one another. We have seen this time and time again when through war or natural catastrophies systems of power have failed. People help each other. Because we are actually a pretty social species.

This is also why I absolutely loathe the depiction we see in a lot of media. Most of all in Legend of Korra. Where not only the Red Lotus, as an anarchist group, does not do jack shit in terms of mutual aid and things like that... We also see basically the Earth Kingdom go to ruins and violence within minutes of the Earth Queen having been killed. Like, no, that is not how people would react in that situation. There would not be instant riots or some shit. Jesus. What made them think that?

And yes, sure. Some anarchists might riot on the streets, because they riot AGAINST the unjust system. But always remember: Usually, when there is police violence for example against a protest, it is your friendly neighborhood anarchist, who will be willing to put themselves between you and the police.

[mickules]

Ummm… so even whilst making this I got another call from a childhood friend to travel up to Scotland and I'm actually packing right now…

I honestly hadn't planned to go basically radio silent at the end of 2023, it was simply a case of too many things, too little time and my own avoidant personality and my unbridled optimism when it comes to agreeing to things without factoring in the fact that I am but a man and not a MACHINE, and require adequate rest.

Especially coming off several years of having to plan around elective procedures, it's been my habit not to say 'no' incase I don't have the option later. AND in that vein at least I do have cause for celebration as I'm completely discharged as of this last procedure!

I managed to get a little thing, albeit late, for "almost Christmas", but it looks like2024 is going to be just as busy - at least until I can get myself back in order.

I still have so many wips and comics in the back of my cranium I am BEGGING to get onto the page; but what I'll probably do when I'm back is a little poll- to see what yous might like to see (I think? I have that functionality?)

I know I'm exptremely lucky, I've had annual leave I've needed to use up and good wonderful friends who I've been able to see (plus full sick pay which is a LIFESAVER) But also all of yous - I see comments and likes and messages (yes I DO, even tho my reptile brain fails me when it comes to REPLYING - my eternal apologies) and I'm so grateful!

Thank you so so much and looking forward to the New Year!

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

The Man, the Myth, the Legend, it's Every Version of Soundwave Across the Multiverse! Fucking look at all of them, all 14 of them. It's a Soundwave Height Chart! Yay!

Edit: I didn't like the old scaling I had so I changed it. The old chart is at the end of this post.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Here are links to my Bumblebee Chart, my Optimus Chart, my Megatron Chart, and my Shockwave Chart. Please go gawk at how many Optimus designs there are, sweet fuck, there are so many. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag.

Explanations and Sources below the cut, because I have always have words to say.

TFA V1 - 6 feet 5 inches (Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4.)

Unicron Trilogy Cybertron - ~13 feet (TFWiki, for the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. This is the design used in Cybertron (S3) though he only shows up in Cybertron. This bitch was so hard to get a full body shot of, he was always standing off to the side or standing behind someone)

Earthspark - ~15 feet (No actual source for ES, but using a barn door to get Bumblebee's height, then Optimus's, then Megatron's height, I was able to make a guess at Soundwave's. Soundwave comes up to about Megatron's chin; the screenshot I found has the two fighting, so it might be a little off, but I'm confident this is pretty close. Also, this might be the shortest of universe to date; I am consistantly finding these iterations to be some of the shortest out of all of them. It may look like the UT has it beat but in S1 everyone is much taller than they are later. No, I don't know why.)

TFA V2 - 17 feet 7 inches (Once again, phoenix-inanis did a fuck ton of work, go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Gen 1 - ~18 feet (TFWiki. I do not have anything else to say)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 feet (I have no source for this, other than assuming that because this design is identical to Gen 1, they are the same height. It's all I got so it's what I'm using)

Knight/Capel-Verse - ~18 feet (No source, and he never stands next to anyone I can measure him against, but because the TFOne director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, I am assuming the height I figured out for TFOne applies to this universe as well. Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

One - ~18 feet (No source, I got this number by comparing him to Shockwave who I compared to Optimus. Now, I am aware of the TFO heights listed on the wiki, but I reject those numbers on principle. A: Those numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, so I have elected to use the few given heights we have from KCV and worked from there. My Optimus post has slightly more context if you want it)

Cyberverse - 19 feet 3 inches (This comes from a screenshot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screenshot is iffy.)

Bayverse - ~22 feet (Okay, so this is from the wiki, but it comes from a concept design for the second movie that never got used, so I went to find my own number. And in the third movie, I was able to compare Soundwave to Megatron and I got a the same number as the first unused number... Kinda backwards but okay)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC/TFP/RID15 V1&2 - 26 feet 2 inches (I originally got this number from Fandom, but I can't for the life of me find the page with the info. Fandom has like 6 different pages for the same character, it's so frustrating. Also- Freakishly tall universe there is no reason for them to be this tall)

Not Pictured: Bayverse Satellite Soundwave - I do not know how big he is and I can not compare him to anyone who I do know. I am sorry satellite Soundwave fans, he evades me with his stupid floating in space all alone bullshit.

Edit: Here are the different layers separated

vvv Old scale vvv

[calaisreno]

An Arrangement

1200 words / Prompt: Hobby

Summary: Mycroft finds an ally

Mycroft Holmes regards the police officer who is sitting on the other side of the desk. Dark eyes, prematurely greying hair. Good at his job, recent promotion. A sense of humour (laugh lines), and an uncompromising commitment to honour. Maybe that’s not quite what it is. Honourable, yes, but it’s an inner sense of rightness, a gut feeling about people. Not impressed by power.

He wonders what DI Lestrade is thinking about the man he’s come to see without an appointment. 

“You’re here about my brother,” he says, sparing him the explanation. 

Lestrade nods. “I’ve seen him around, talked with him a few times. Last night—”

“Thank you.” Mycroft isn’t good at thanking people, not when thanks seem so inadequate. “I am truly grateful that you found him before… well, before more serious harm was done.”

Lestrade looks at him directly, openly, and Mycroft imagines this is the face he uses when interrogating a suspect. “You don’t know what to do with him.”

Surprised at the deduction, he responds. “I have taken some measures. It seems what I’ve attempted has not been successful, but I have the means to try other things.”

“What about your parents?”

“Our parents are not able to fully grasp the problem. Sherlock has always been… difficult. They have never understood him, and blame themselves for his problems. The matter elicits a great deal of emotion, and I have elected to be my brother’s keeper, so to speak, in order to spare them that ordeal.”

“Mr Holmes, I can’t claim to know Sherlock as well as you do, but I know a thing or two about addiction. The measures you’ve taken… well, nothing’s going to work until he’s ready to work on himself.”

Mycroft smiles grimly. “Mr Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve met many junkies in your line of work, but I’m equally sure you’ve never met anyone like Sherlock.”

“True enough. First time I met him he was high, stumbled on a crime scene I was investigating. It was like he had x-ray vision or something. Described exactly what had happened, pointed out where the murder weapon was, even suggested that the murderer was left-handed and had a limp. I didn’t dismiss him as a nut job because I could see it all— he was right.”

Mycroft’s smile is more genuine now. “My brother is several levels above any junkie you’ve met, Mr Lestrade. His problem is one he could solve, if he turned his mind to it. He resents my interference, however, and resists the measures I’ve taken. I will not give up on him, however long it takes. You need not feel responsible for Sherlock.” 

Lestrade stares down at his hands, which he holds clenched in his lap. When he speaks, his voice has lost something of the policeman. 

“Forgive me for speaking so freely. I know what it’s like to talk to someone on the phone, to say see you later, knowing that it might be the last thing you say to them. Guarding your words so you won’t sound bitter, won’t drive him away, when all you want to do is shake some sense into him, scream at him, lock him up until you can make him right.”

“Ah.” Mycroft leans back. “Your own brother.”

Lestrade smiles. “Five years younger than me, baby of the family. Our parents worked hard, and we did all right. All of us but Andy. I don’t know why. He was bright enough to do anything, be anything. We loved him, but something made him feel unloveable. It was never enough.”

“I’m sorry.” There really isn’t anything else to say when someone admits something so personal. This conversation is far more personal than he wants it to be. 

“I always take an interest in the addicts because of Andy. Maybe I can figure it out, save someone when I couldn’t do anything for him. Last time Sherlock and I spoke, I made him an offer, said I’d be willing to talk to him about homicide cases I’m working on, if he stays clean. He seemed to like that idea, said he might be a ‘consulting detective,’ the one I come to when I’m in over my head.”

Mycroft shakes his head slightly. “Sherlock is meant for something greater than police work, Mr Lestrade. I’m afraid you’ll find he quickly loses interest.”

“I don’t know, Mr Holmes. What police do matters. I’m not suggesting that Sherlock would make a good policeman. I saw a spark in him, though, one I hadn’t seen the other times we talked. Even if solving a crime is just an intellectual exercise to him, it might be the thing that keeps him from needing his next dose. That’s how you solve addiction, I think, one dose at a time.”

“That’s very simplistic.” Mycroft frowns now. “Believe me, I understand what rehab entails. And I know the success rates of most programmes.”

“True, there are a lot of failures. I don’t mean to suggest that I can cure him. You can’t cure an addict. But you can give them something else, something that absorbs them, even for a while. And maybe over time they’ll learn that there is something they want more than drugs.”

“You’re asking my permission,” Mycroft says. “I give it to you with conditions. First, you must not let him in simply to let him down. If you invite him to solve things, you will need to keep giving him things to solve. I’m not sure that’s feasible, but it is my condition. Do not treat him like a hobby.”

“I wouldn’t.” Lestrade looks at him solemnly. “I’m doing this because I think I can help him, and it would go against everything in me not to try.”

“I have another condition. You must check in with me and let me know if you see him slipping. Sherlock doesn’t see me often, doesn’t answer my calls. As I’ve said, he resents my efforts to help. You will recognise the signs. If he’s doing poorly, I want to know. I don’t care about confidences and trust between you and my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”

“I’m willing to do that.”

“Even if it involves lying to him?”

This gives the detective pause. “I want him to trust me, and lying to him would break that. I don’t want him to think I’m working for you. At the same time, I won’t pass along anything you say to me; our conversations will remain confidential.”

“In addition.” He sighs. “I am appalled that I must say this, but I would be remiss not to mention it. Do not use my brother. People have used him before, taken advantage of him. I’m not suggesting that you are the type of person who would do that. I don’t know you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. But if I ever learn that you have done such a thing—” He breaks off, giving him the humourless smile that explains more than words. “It would be very unfortunate.”

“Of course.” Lestrade looks sad. “I would never.”

“Very well, then.” 

He extends his hand. Lestrade takes it, gives it one shake, and nods. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

---

Shoutouts to everyone who is writing these! I'm so impressed 💕 Please keep writing your mini-epics, fluffy/angsty one-shots, hilarious AUs, limericks, and whatever else your brain comes up with. Please do tag people, and if you're posting on AO3 as well, consider adding to my MayPrompts2024 Collection. Much love to you all 💕