#not even out just putting it on the trash can

[toranoya]

Hawks chuckled as he watched the match unfold, clearly entertained. “You two are like a couple of pros in training—strategy, reflexes, and even a little trash talk. I love it.” He sipped his iced coffee, his grin widening. “But Kari, that stomp-and-spike move? That was pure brilliance. And Core, you’re a powerhouse with that enhanced strength. I think I felt the air shift when you vaulted off that spike.”

When they both yielded and walked over for their water, Hawks pushed off the wall and casually joined them. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short Little Bird. Biting off more than you can chew is part of learning how to chew bigger bites, right? And Core, nice work on keeping your balance and capitalizing on those reflexes. You’ve got a knack for adapting mid-fight.”

He leaned down slightly, looking between them with a smirk. “Alright, so it’s tied now—one win each. The next round’s the tiebreaker. You ready to go all out? Or do you need a minute to catch your breath? Either way, make it count. And no holding back this time, got it?”

Straightening up, Hawks gave them a playful wink. “Oh, and if you two keep this up, I might just have to put in a word with some hero agencies. You’re both looking pretty sharp out there. Now, finish your water and show me what you’ve got in round three.” He sipped his iced coffee, settling back into his relaxed stance, clearly eager to see how the final match would play out.

[rememberwren]

Dichotomy of Thought || 11

Past and further chapters here.

Simon and Johnny make up.

|| Chapter warnings: Anal fingering, anal sex, baby-trapping, medication tampering, medication control.

-

Your boyfriend manages your medications, a one-man pharmacy. 

Every morning the pills are waiting for you on the table in the foyer beside where you deposit your keys in the evening. There are two of them. 

The first is oblong, tan. Your boyfriend hoards and hides the bottle, but you’d fished the information pamphlet that came from the pharmacy out of the trash, and you know everything there is to know about it from that page jam-packed with text. Sertraline, 50mg. Otherwise known as Zoloft. Just swallowing the tasteless pill makes you remember the even darker days than the ones you’re living now, the ones that had led you to that waiting room with your boyfriend in the seat beside you waiting for a doctor to see you. How do I know if I’m depressed, you had asked the doctor, bold as anything even with your boyfriend’s hand on your knee, or if my life just isn’t worth living? 

You’d learned. By God, you’d learned. 

The other pill is your birth control. Round, sometimes blue, sometimes white, depending on where you are in your cycle. Today it is white and—

It looks—different. 

He wouldn’t, you think to yourself, thumb nudging at the pill in your palm, like seeing it from a different angle might jog your memory of it. He wouldn’t do that. A kid is the last thing he wants. He wouldn’t sacrifice his own freedom just to keep you trapped underneath his thumb. 

Except—wouldn’t he? 

“Hurry it up,” he says, yawning, like you kept him up late last night. “I want to go back to bed.” 

You try to take a picture of the pill in your mind before you drop it onto your tongue, taking a swig from your water tumbler, but your brain feels so scrambled that you forget it right away. You can’t even remember the color—had it truly been white, or had it been the pale sky blue of  robin’s egg?

It goes down like a lump of chalk. He makes you show him your empty mouth before he’s satisfied that you aren’t cheeking the pills, and then he kisses you and tells you to have a good day at work, honey. 

-

“Rooster wants you in his office,” Jackie says under her breath, helping you hurriedly clear one of your tables. You’re slow with the splint on your smallest finger, the throb of pain lancing all the way up your wrist each time you use the damaged hand. Jackie has been an angel in khakis picking up your slack. 

You wish that you had one of the pills that they’d given you in the emergency department. It hadn’t taken away all of the pain, but it’d made your head feel light and floaty and like you could care less if all your fingers were broken. Or maybe you wanted one of Johnny’s pills—the ones that put him in a peaceful sleep. You haven’t had such a thing in so long that you can’t remember when, even your moments of relaxation tainted until ‘rest’ is just waiting for the next act of violence. 

“What does he want?” you ask. 

“Probably to tell you about the raise,” she says. She rolls her eyes and twirls a fingers, mouth set in a grim smile of comradery. “Fifty cents. Writing home about it as we speak. Or maybe he wants to grill you about who keeps stealing from the registers—like we all don’t know it’s Ruth.” 

Fifty cents. You can’t even turn up your nose at it. Every penny is one that brings you closer to that apartment across town. With a promise that you’ll return as quickly as you can, you step off the floor (avoiding making eye contact with any customers who would happily sideway you for refills or to complain) and into the back of the house. It’s quiet back here, cooler. Rapping your knuckles against Rooster’s door, you wait. 

There’s no response, and no sign of him in the hallway. Some of the line cooks are coming in, filtering toward the break room to start their shift. You feel their eyes on you as you stand impotently outside the door. One of them says something to the other, and there is laughter, too loud and boisterous for the enclosed space. Your heart has begun to pound, sweat breaking out at the nape of your neck. 

“Hey,” one of them says to you. 

“Hi,” you mutter, forcing a smile, unable to make eye contact. 

Still there is no sign of Rooster from either end of the hallway—never would you have considered the short man your savior. Heart racing, you crack the door open and see that the office is empty. You slip inside, shutting the door safely behind you. 

The room is as self-important as you might imagine: a desk that seems too large for the space, filing cabinets in the corner. There’s a corkboard pockmarked with holes after years of use, and you drift over to it, too anxious to take a seat in the chair on the other side of Rooster’s desk. A calendar is posted there, Rooster’s neat handwriting here and there. 

Something catches your eye: LOCKER CLEANOUT marked for two weeks from now. 

It seemed like the last locker cleanout had just happened. You had only collected five hundred dollars back then, but it was far too much to want to explain to Rooster, and you had nowhere else to stash it that was safe. In the end, it had sat in an envelope under the driver’s seat of your car while Rooster took the week and went through each of the lockers to ensure compliance with the restaurant’s rules (all because someone used to have a penchant for leaving snack cakes in their locker leading to a bad case of ants that almost led to the restaurant being shut down). It had been the longest week of your life, like driving around with a live bomb underneath the front seat. 

Now you have nearly two thousand dollars. Where the hell were you going to put it? 

The door opens. Rooster looks at you suspiciously, eyes flickering between you and the calendar. 

“Next time, wait outside,” he says, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. It makes your skin crawl to be alone with him, even if he’s never done anything slimier than asking you to pull a double shift. You know the darkness that lies inside men. All men. 

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, taking his seat in a squeaky rolling chair behind the desk. His smile is a dismal, strained thing, like interacting with you is just as painful for him as it is for you. “Next time, just wait.”  

-

Johnny and Simon spend the day in bed. 

Johnny’s knee is propped up on a pillow, red and swollen. Simon lets his fingers hover over it, gentle, feeling the warmth of Johnny’s skin. Johnny winces, like even the brush of air against his knee hurts. 

“It looks infected,” says Simon. 

“It’s not.” It can’t be. Johnny can’t handle that—can’t handle the idea of having to go through the surgery on his knee again, the recovery, the way recovery is just synonymous with pain. No, it isn’t infected. “Just looks like that because he hit it.” 

Simon leans down and brushes his mouth against Johnny’s thigh. It’s meant to be sweet but—well. It’s the closest his mouth has been to Johnny’s cock in more than six months, and just the sight of it has Johnny’s heart skipping a beat and picking up again in double-time, his face growing flush. Not privy to Johnny’s thoughts, all Simon does is press a chaste kiss to the skin a few inches above where Johnny’s swelling starts—nevermind what else might be swelling now, too. 

The two of them lay entwined together, Simon curling up around him. He plants a hand on Johnny’s clothed chest, right over his heart, like he’s trying to remind himself that Johnny’s here. That Johnny’s alive. The look in his eyes is far away, mouth drawn down into a tight frown. All at once, Johnny’s downright sick of it—sick of them not having anything to smile about. Sick of fighting. 

Johnny takes Simon’s hand, laces their fingers, and guides it down. Down over his slim, firm belly, watching from the corner of his eye as Simon’s brows climb up his forehead. Down until their hands cup his half-hard cock. Simon’s hand shifts straight away, fingers curling around the solid length, thumb stroking up the side, the gentle rasp of his calloused fingerpad loud against the cotton of Johnny’s boxers. 

“You’re hurt,” Simon reminds him. 

“Don’t care.” 

“I do.” 

“We don’t have to fuck. I just—” he doesn’t know how to explain, how badly he needs to feel something good. How badly he needs to know that his connection with Simon isn’t ruined. How badly he needs to see that they’re still lovers, that Simon isn’t just his live-in caretaker. How badly Johnny needs to feel like a human being—like a grown man. He finishes, a little lamely: “I just need it.” 

Simon’s grip goes firm. Johnny’s eyes shut, mouth falling open at the sensation. He hasn’t even touched himself like this in weeks, and while he hadn’t necessarily been keeping track, his cock clearly has been. Simon seems content to go on like this, mapping the shape of Johnny’s cock through his boxers, thumbing over the head until a wet sticky spot appears in the cotton fabric, his hand sometimes drifting down to cradle the warm heft of Johnny’s balls. 

Johnny, usually impatient, contents himself with this torture. Let Simon tease him all day, if he’d like, until Johnny is liable to go off at the whisper of a touch. The thought has his cock jerking toward the warmth of Simon’s palm, and Johnny groans when his grip tightens. 

“Fucking pretty, aren’t you?” Simon mutters, his eyes on Johnny’s face.

Johnny snorts. He tosses his arm over his eyes, but beneath his arm, he’s grinning. “Shuddup.” 

Simon clicks his tongue. “Be good, Johnny. Let me look at you.” 

Johnny moves his arm and gives his grin room to breathe. His head feels light and airy as Simon sits up and helps him work his boxers down his thighs just far enough to draw his cock out. The first touch of skin on skin has him hissing a breath in through his teeth. Fuck, it’s good. Just as good as it always was—maybe even better, because he needs it so bad. 

“Want you inside me,” Johnny says on a whim, feeling the truth of it in his chest. He doesn’t just want it—he needs it. 

Simon leans down and kisses him, just a little too hard to be mistaken as anything but desperate. How long has it been for him, Johnny wonders. He spends every waking moment with Johnny except his perfunctory showers. Does he indulge then, between soaping and rinsing off, holding his breath to hide his sounds while he strips his cock with one slick hand? 

It takes some maneuvering to get Johnny on his side, knee nicely cushioned. He can’t reach back and touch Simon, can’t grip his hip and pull him in closer, and it’s just another reason to miss his arm. Because there are a hundred thousand touches Simon deserves that Johnny can’t give him anymore. 

They’re lucky for the shelf life of the lube. It warms Simon’s fingers as he works them past Johnny’s rim. He takes his time, hands shaking where they touch him. 

“Need it bad, huh?” Johnny wonders. 

Simon snorts but doesn’t deny it. Just curls his fingers searching for that tender spot inside Johnny’s ass that makes him grit his teeth. His cock drools onto the bedspread, red and throbbing with his heartbeat. By the time Simon slips inside him, chest to Johnny’s back, Johnny feels liable to go off at a moment’s notice. 

For all the time they haven’t fucked, Simon remembers everything: the way to touch Johnny,wrapping a strong arm around his chest to make up for the one Johnny lacks, fingers playing with the whorls of Johnny’s chest hair or teasing one of his nipples; the way to angle his hips to nail Johnny’s prostate. 

“Quit,” Johnny groans, shifting until the stimulation isn’t so good, so dead-on. His cock aches, balls heavy and tight. “I don’t want to cum yet. Don’t want this to be over.” 

“Can’t miss Johnny; dick’s too big.” 

Johnny guffaws. The sound nearly startles him—when was the last time he fucking laughed? With you in the park—but he doesn’t need to be thinking about you now, not you with your small, soft hands and the curve of your mouth…

“Fuck—touch my cock, please touch my cock—“ Johnny whines, body trembling. He’s right there, right fucking there, too close to go back now, fuck it all, he wants to cum. Simon’s strong fingers curl around his cock and strip it firmly, and the pleasure inside him bubbles up and over, left too long to simmer. He nearly headbutts Simon in the face, his body shaking and jerking and cum splatters against his belly and the bedspread and down over Simon’s fingers. 

“Just like that—so good, Johnny,” Simon murmurs. His pale hand grips at Johnny’s sharp hipbone, cum smearing against Johnny’s skin. “My turn.” 

Afterwards, Simon gently helps him undress and goes to get them both fresh clothes. Johnny’s knee throbs freshly just from his muscles tensing, but he barely feels it. For the first time since his accident, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. He has no arm—but so what? There are many with a lot less. He’s John fucking MacTavish. He can do this.

Simon has gone still at their closet, holding something in his hands. Johnny leans up on his elbows. 

“What is it?” he asks. “Did you find my lighter?”

Simon holds up with no preamble a skull-embossed balaclava. It’s worn, the fabric gone gray at its most threadbare spots, but the image imprinted on the front hasn’t faded.

“Blast from the past,” Johnny says, throat uncomfortably tight with an emotion he can’t name. “Thought you threw those out.” 

“Thought so too.” He doesn’t look eager to throw this one out though, his fingers tracing over the teeth, like he’s tracing the lipless mouth of a lover. 

“You miss it,” Johnny says, the glow of their sex fading rapidly. Of course Simon misses it. The military had been his entire life—until Johnny’s accident. Until Simon had discharged with him, to take care of him. Johnny hadn’t just blown apart his own life by going down in the helo in Kazakhstan, he had blown apart Simon’s life too. 

“No,” Simon says simply. “It’s not that.” 

Johnny frowns. “What is it, then?” 

“The night of the poker party—I was Ghost again. It was the only way I could…compartmentalize. Stomach it. I’d forgotten.” 

“Forgotten?”

Simon glances toward him. “Forgotten how useful Ghost could be.” Reaching up, Simon slips the balaclava over his head, adjusting it on instinct until it rests just right against the bridge of his nose. His hair is getting long, little blond strands visible, curling at the ends. 

“Now I want to fuck you again,” says Johnny, just to fill the air between them, and because sex used to be such an easy way to fill it. 

Simon doesn’t smile. 

“Johnny.”

“I was just teasin’—“

“Not that,” Simon says. Even his manner of speaking seems different, words clipped, tone short and no-nonsense. “What if I wanted to go visit our neighbor?”

The question lingers in the silence between them. Johnny swallows, the sound of his throat an audible click in the tense air. 

“You,” Johnny wonders, when he can speak again, “or Ghost?” 

Beneath the balaclava, Ghost smiles. 

[waiting-for-motivation]

dark red

summary: No matter what, Max loves and supports his girlfriend like a golden retriever would love a black cat.

pairing: Max Verstappen x Goth!Reader

warnings: the sweetest and purest fluff

words: 1022

a/n: daniel will always be part of my formula one fics :) also big thank you to my lovely muse @graveyardcannibal <33

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

The thing Max enjoys the most is staring at his beautiful girlfriend. No matter the time of the day, the light always seems to hit her at just the right angle. She could wear a trash bag and still look gorgeous in his eyes. Max really fell head over heels for her.

So it does not surprise (Y/n) at all to see his reflection in the mirror in front of her. He watches her precisely draw her eyeliner. Concentrating on the black lines is hard, when his blue eyes notice even her smallest movement.

“Get a hobby, creep“, she comments with a sarcastic undertone, still looking over her shoulder with a smile on her lips. While Max is already dressed, she still has to finish her make-up and put on the outfit, her boyfriend helped her pick out. Sometimes (Y/n) feels bad for him, keeping him waiting for her, but then she remembers how much he likes to gaze at her.

Max can only laugh at her words, leaning forward to take a closer look at all the brushes, powders and pencils. Although he watches his girl use them on a regular basis he has no clue what they are specifically for. Though one he knows: her dark red lipstick, which she is reaching for right now.

“No, wait before you put that on“, Max almost screams, caught off guard by his own forwardness. With a confused expression, (Y/n) turns towards her boyfriend, the lipstick in her right hand. The moment she opens her mouth to ask what has gotten into him, Max presses his lips to hers. This is explanation enough.

“You smooth bastard!“, (Y/n) exclaims after they part, keeping the intense eye contact with Max. He shows her a cheeky smile, then nods towards the mirror, encouraging her to finish her make-up. The lipstick is the final part. Max watches in awe as (Y/n) places a napkin between her lips to matten the dark color.

Then she turns towards her outfit that lies on the neatly made bed, right next to her boyfriend. (Y/n) gets dressed, so focused she does not notice Max standing up and cleaning up her make-up tools.

“You don‘t have to do that“, she murmurs as she turns around and catches Max inspecting her brushes. Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Max zips up her full cosmetic bag. He simply loves doing everything in his power for her, from smaller tasks to presenting her yet another corset.

"Need any help, schatje?", Max asks, setting the bag aside and reaching for his girl who is struggling to lace up her newest corset. With a huff, (Y/n) turns her back to him so that he can easily tighten the corset, careful not to strangulate her. After tying a bow, Max wraps his arms around his girl and starts kissing a trail from her ear to the collar of her shirt. One of her hands wanders to his fluffy golden hair.

"Don't start what you can't finish, Verstappen", (Y/n) warns her boyfriend, reminding him of today’s qualifying race and the job he has to do. At least, she will be with him on the paddock. For her, it will be the first time there, so she is rather excited and a bit anxious.

Together they leave their hotel room and drive to the racetrack. Again and again, Max throws a glance towards his girl on the passenger seat, actually so often that (Y/n) has to remind him to keep his eyes on the street. They quickly arrive and manage to get into the Red Bull garage without much attention from cameras or reporters.

"Remember you can always go into my driver room if it gets too much. I will find you as soon as possible afterward. Have some fun, schatje", Max tells (Y/n) with a concerned expression, even more nervous about her first day on the paddock than her. Her smile comfort his nerves, the sweet kiss following tells him she will be fine. Then he leaves to do some media stuff with his teammate.

Although the last few days, all (Y/n) could overthink about where the worst scenarios that could happen, the next few hours without Max are rather pleasant. Knowing a few of the drivers already because Max invited them to his home in Monaco, she has no problem in finding someone to talk to. Daniel is very delighted to see her, pulling her into a warm hug and forcing her to do a twirl for him, showing off her black outfit. She even meets some other girlfriends, which mostly compliment her on her make-up.

Before the qualifying race starts, someone from Red Bull escorts her back to the garage, claiming Max wants to see her before the start. There is a whole crowd of mechanics and strategists around him, so (Y/n) waits till he notices her, meanwhile touching up her lipstick.

Max is already sitting in his car, when he waves (Y/n) over with a bright smile. Someone presses his helmet into her hands which she gives to her boyfriend the moment she arrives at his car. He keeps it in his laps, gazing at the gorgeous girl above him. (Y/n) leans onto the car carefully, not wanting to cause a scratch or worse.

“There you are, schatje, wish me luck“, Max murmurs. His blue eyes glisten from not daring to blink. The giggle coming from (Y/n) causes his heart to flutter like a million butterflies. He smiles dreamily.

“Good luck, Maxie“, (Y/n) whispers as she presses a kiss to his cheek, aware of the cameras on them. Taking a step back and watching her boyfriend hide his handsome face under a balaclava and finally his helmet, she catches a glimpse of a red lipstick mark on his skin. She can only smile at this little incident.

Of course, the next day there are a lot of pictures circulating on the internet. Everyone can see the admiration in Max Verstappen‘s eyes as well as the red mark on his cheek, he wears like a medal of honor. He simply loves his girl with every fiber of his being.

[mantis-lizbian]

y'know, my first time encountering something like this was... okay, actually it was L5R in the 3e, but to be fair, i had only known TTRPGs were a thing for a year at that point, and hadn't yet encountered L5R itself... and also the good version of L5R (imo) wouldn't come out for 16 years or so (i kid, but also 2e which was the contemporary version at the time, is generally regarded as trash)

anyway, my first encounter with a TTRPG that i already knew getting adapted for another system was Savage Worlds Rifts. and even though Rifts is a hot garbage system that no one should play, i still kinda felt uncomfortable about that... i'm still not entirely sure i can put my finger on why, but just... something about that felt wrong. perhaps its merely the grognard in me saying that each GM should adapt Rifts to their own preferred system themselves as Siembieda intended (note: this is a joke, he very much did not intend this, but come on), or maybe it's just that Savage Worlds is just too streamlined to really capture the absurd mess that gives Rifts' setting its real charm.

i guess what i'm saying is play Rifts. :D

That's actually such a good skill to cultivate: thinking about RPGs not just in terms of setting or genre tropes but also in terms of what the characters are expected to be doing. D&D isn't just a fantasy game. The Burning Wheel is also a fantasy game, and so is RuneQuest, and those games assume very different things about play.

In fact, I feel people treating D&D as the fantasy game also ends up coloring a lot of people's perceptions about the medium in general but also leads to them considering D&D a generalist game, which are both issues but different types of issues: the first one can make people consider the Adventure Party format where gameplay is largely about going into places to overcome adversity and grow in strength the default; the latter makes people not consider other games because they think that an adventuring game engine can be easily applied to other genres, because they largely view the differences between games as a matter of the shape of dice being rolled.

Anyway, D&D is a specific type of fantasy game that assumes the characters going into dangerous places to kill things and overcome adversity in order to grow in strength and gain more riches. If you want a game that doesn't do that you need to articulate what you imagine the characters to be doing. Sometimes a genre label is a good shorthand: the magic school genre label is already pretty evocative about what sort of things characters can be expected to be doing. But you can't always count on it.

As another example: Ars Magica and Mage: the Ascension are both games about playing (different types of) wizards, but the former is very much about researching spells while the latter is much more like. A modern supernatural conspiracy game where the characters can also cast spells. There's a difference not only in terms of setting, but what characters are expected to be doing.

[revelboo]

what is your worst "hear me out" for transformers? mine is tarantulas like a spider in irl hell no… but a big robot spider thats hot

Probably Tarantulas (I love his Earthspark design) or IDW Waspinator.

I read Windblade for Metroplex lore and it reminded me of this messed up, fatally gullible mech that is everyone’s punching bag and just knows it.

Worker Bee

IDW Waspinator x Reader

• Dragging his broken body, his alt mode scrabbles for purchase in the leaf litter. It’s hard to focus on much besides the pain and finding somewhere safe to hide and heal. He’s not even sure what he did, only that Skywarp had pointed at him right before Megatron went ballistic on him and the two other Decepticons that had been close by. Maybe he had done something wrong. He must have. “Waspinator’s fault,” he rasps, antenna flicking because there’s light up ahead, a building where he’ll be out of the snow just beginning to fall. Leaving the tree line, he drags himself inside, legs scrabbling and knocking over a metal can that clatters as it goes rolling and he collapses on the straw inside. So tired, burrowing in.

• Looking up from your book at the noise, you groan because the raccoons are back and they’ve tipped over the trash can. It’s late and you just want to ignore it and deal with it in the morning, but there might be garbage strewn across the yard by then. Standing, you tug on a coat, grab a flashlight, and a rifle just in case it’s a bear, not cute little trash pandas raiding your garbage. You’d left the barn door open apparently and you find the can turned over, but its contents not scattered everywhere. Maybe the sound scared them off? Setting the gun down, you right the can and turn as something shifts within the hay, rising slowly to tower over you.

• There’s a human with a weapon. Here to hurt him, because everyone does. They always do. It hurts to transform and reach for the human, but his injuries throw him off balance and he crashes down, knocking the little organic sprawling with him. And you’re screaming at him, your fear jangling through him making him curl forward, servos over his head. Waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. “Not hurt Waspinator?”

• Hyperventilating as the monster lifts its big head slightly, you can’t even scream. Voice overlayed with slow buzz, the thing had spoken. It’s gigantic, seizing your ankle when you try to crawl away and dragging you back, looming over you. All you can do is hold up your hands in supplication as those awful mandibles work and those glowing optics stare. “Don’t hurt me.”

• This is new. Someone afraid of him? It should make him feel powerful to be the one feared for once, but it just makes him oddly ill. Sitting up and gingerly touching the wound in his torso sluggishly bleeding energon, he makes a buzzing click of his mandibles. “No hurt,” he says as you scramble to your hands and knees to put some distance between you. “Already hurt,” he adds tiredly, and you hesitate in your retreat. Staring at the energon welling through his servos. You take a hand through your hair, expression twisting.

• All you have to do is run like hell. That thing, Waspinator it had called itself, is hurt too badly to chase you. But there’s something about its defeated tone that makes you feel guilty. This isn’t your problem. Big and scary was already hurt when he crashed in your barn. So why do you go over to the workbench and retrieve a roll of duct tape? He hisses at you, rearing back when you try to touch him and you freeze. “Cut that out,” you snap and his antenna flatten back. Not hurt Waspinator? You’d guessed with the way he’d worded that question that maybe he’s used to being hurt. That he’d fold if you acted aggressive and you were right. It’s unsettling to see a giant, metal death bug cringe like a puppy being scolded. But he doesn’t make a peep as you find the hole in his metal side and gingerly tape the leaking lines, trying to not think too closely on what you’re touching or that your hands are inside him rooting around. “Waspinator, right?” The way he’s just staring down at you with those wide glowing optics just cements in your head that he’s a big, really ugly puppy.

Next

[violenteconomics]

so it’s pretty popular in this fandom for the overblotters to have a support group going on, and that’s all well and good and we’ve got a lot of amazing stuff out of it (shameless segue into compelling you to read the “girls in wonderland” series by the lovely jxnebug on ao3, please, it’s awesome), but can you just. like. imagine for a second that everybody else has a support group too, because goodness gracious, do the people who have to witness the overblots need so much therapy.

like. i imagine that it starts off with the first-years and their weekly ramshackle hangouts, and then they all start venting to each other about all the trauma they’ve gone through in the past year, which, thanks to yuu, becomes an unofficial, very unqualified support group.

ace: hey. i’m ace trappola. during my first week at night raven college i had to wear a collar around my neck at all times and didn’t even get to sleep in my dorm, which is probably for the best, because i couldn’t really sleep with that stupid collar anyway. i slaved away making a chestnut tart to apologize to my housewarden with, only to have my apology literally thrown into the trash. and when my best friend tried to stick up for me, they got called stupid and undereducated. and my other upperclassmen just enabled him. i almost got killed twice in that week, and many more times afterwards.

deuce: hello, i’m deuce spade. and i promised myself that i would become the best person i could be for my mom, only to fall short of my own expectations every single time, except for when i literally sign my soul away. i had such high hopes for my housewarden and upperclassmen to guide me to a better future, only to come to the realization that they’re even more flawed than i am. so, basically, there is nobody who can help me now, and i’m doomed to the path i made with my own hands.

jack: this is so unnecessary. jack howl. basically what deuce said, but combine that with the fact that, when you first met, your upperclassmen didn’t have any problems with getting rid of you if it meant their path to victory was assured. your dormmates will never admit that they’re wrong and sooner rip your ear out than say they like you to your face. but you care a lot about them, and deep down, maybe they care a lot about you, too. but the only thing they can do that would prove that in your eyes is improve themselves. become better. be the people you thought they were when you got here. and that is the one thing they will never do.

epel: howdy. my name is epel felmier. my housewarden is all about personal improvement. he’s right to think that i need to rework my thinking about gender and strength, because they are not equal in any way. other than that, though, he has no investment in me as a person. i’m not allowed to eat whatever i want. if he tells me to perform, that’s what i do. if i slip up even a little, he scolds me for being lazy. my posture must be perfect, my diction clear, and my hair flawless. he puts the same pressure on himself to be perfect, so it’s not like he’s a hypocrite. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? he likes me for the things i do — and he hates the person i am.

ortho: hello, world. my name is ortho shroud. not the real one, though. i’m just a poor simulacrum of him that my big brother forged from the flames of his grief and the metal of his self-loathing. but even though idia put his soul into constructing me, i can never truly be the person he wants me to be. my only purpose, and i can’t even do it correctly. for almost my entire life up to this point, idia loved his dead brother more than he loved me, and i just had to be okay with that, because the nature of the STYX organization mean that i didn’t have anybody else. and the one time i tried to change that, i corrupted my brother and almost ended the world.

sebek: greetings. i am sebek zigvolt. i nearly perished recently. the prince that i admired so dearly tried to put everybody to sleep, and in trying to stop him, i very nearly lost a dear friend of mine to the secrets hidden inside his father’s brain. the whole time, i felt distinctly out of place. it was like i was watching one of those soap operas master lilia loves so much. only ever looking. never touching. right before me was a broken family that i only wanted to see come back together, but i couldn’t fix it. for it was not my family to fix. i was helpless. useless. but that is nothing new.

yuu: …hi. i’m yuu. i was ripped out of my home and isekai’d into this world that’s filled with mentally unstable magic people who tried to kill me more than a couple times. i am currently living paycheck-to-paycheck while going to school full-time thanks to a crow who doesn’t know how to adult. and clearly, we all have a lot of work to do.

this goes on for a couple of weeks with just them, but then sebek decides to invite silver, because he’s prolly not doing so hot post-book 7 (and also, silver is basically the freshmen’s official big brother at this point, let’s be real) and then silver invites kalim a few weeks later, who invites ruggie, and then it just sort of snowballs out of control from there.

[nakylvr]

need to be watching comfort movies with manon and holding her like please let me take care of you my heart hurts

i stopped studying to write this up, it's probably trash but i needed to do something

— ANYTIME, ALWAYS 👑

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, f!reader

you knew something was off the moment you stepped inside the dorm for the girls after getting a text from manon. it was quiet with the rest of the girls gone for the award show, an oddity for the home that was buzzing always. you were given an extra key from sophia who explicitly told you that you were the only one to have an extra and to not let the staff find out. to be fair, you didn't really care though if the staff found out right now.

when you got the text from manon that read; can you come by? :(, with nothing else, you had a feeling something was wrong. you showed up at the dorm within twenty minutes.

you step into the living room, seeing manon sitting on the couch with the hood of her hoodie over her head watching, or trying, to watch a movie on the tv. she doesn't even notice your presence until you step closer to her. "hey, baby," you say softly, making her finally realize you're there and look up at you.

"hey," she says quietly. "how did you get in?"

"sophia gave me a key a while ago," you answer, sitting down next to her on the couch. "is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly.

"mm," manon hums, not moving. "just...things," she mumbles.

"okay..." your voice trails off as your eyes glance around. "do you want to talk about it?"

manon shakes her head, her eyes finally meeting yours with tears in her eyes. she opens her mouth to speak but you're wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into your embrace before she can get anything out. she puts her face in your neck, her arms grabbing your shirt tightly as if you would disappear.

"it's okay," you whisper softly. "it's okay," you reiterate a few times, your hand rubbing her back reassuringly. you can feel a few wet droplets hitting your skin, and you pull her closer to you, her body practically pressing against yours as she quietly cries into your neck.

you can hear her mumbling into your skin, and you can only make out a few words every now and then, but you can decipher it and figure out what she's saying. "look at me, baby," you say quietly, moving your hands to her face.

manon slowly lifts her head from your neck to look at you, her eyes slightly red from crying with a few tears still trailing down her cheeks. "i-i don-don't understand-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt her quickly, knowing exactly where it would lead. "i'm going to stop you right there. just breathe, okay? everything will be okay, you will be okay. i don't know what you're seeing, but ignore it. it's hard, i know. it's been hard, i know. but you're the strongest person i've ever met," you wipe the tears away with the pads of your thumbs. "i love you so much, the girls love you so much, everyone loves you. forget the small percentage of people who are jealous because you're talented and they aren't. you are so important to so many people. you mean the world to so many, to me. i love you so much."

listening to your words has more tears welling in manon's eyes as she nods along to what you're saying. "i love you too," she mumbles quietly.

you lean in and softly press your lips against hers, feeling her reciprocate instantly as her hands rest on your waist. you pull away for a moment, leaning your forehead on hers while wiping away the remaining tears. "is there anything you want to do?" you ask.

manon shakes her head lightly. "not really. i was watching a movie, but it's kinda trash."

you nod while giving a short hum. "okay. how about we put a good movie on and i'll order us something to eat?" you suggest.

"i'm okay with that," she replies.

"okay," you peck her lips, smiling slightly. you grab the remote off the table and grab manon's arm, pulling her down on top of you as you lay on your back along the couch. she giggles softly at the action, resting her head on your chest as you look through the movies listed on the tv. putting on a random one, you put the remote down and look back at manon, wrapping your arms around her. "i love you so much," you quietly speak.

"i love you too," she responds in the same voice. "please don't leave," she whispers.

"i won't," you immediately reply. "i promise." you kiss the top of her head. "you don't have to worry about that. i'm staying for as long as you'll keep me around."

"forever?" she murmurs.

"forever."

[saras-almanac]

So I wrote this post the other day about my feelings on the handling of the BuckTommy breakup (which you can read here if you want). And @parrishjeanna reblogged with a link to an article from Tim. I wrote out a reply to it but it became so long I needed to put it in a separate post because it’s over 3k and I need to put it until a readmore.

Okay so I did read that article thank you @kawaiifacesong for linking the not generating revenue clicks because I don’t like reading any articles for 9-1-1 because it’s literally all buddies who can’t ask anything about the show. (Case in point, in this particular interview, the interviewer brings up “The Couch Theory” because Buck and Eddie sit on a couch.)

So this interview was trash for many reasons but I’ll narrow it down to three for the sake of this response: Biphobic nature of the breakup and aftermath, what’s being said in interviews isn’t what we’re seeing, and Tim writes as he goes so there’s no actual plan going forward.

First: The Biphobic Nature of this breakup is still moving full swing.

The idea that Buck is “still figuring himself out” and needs to explore is insulting in so many ways—especially to myself as a bisexual lady in my 30s. Firstly, being in my 30s, the idea that you need to figure yourself out still is absolute bullshit. Yes, you can still find new things out about yourself and make some changes, but usually by this point in your life, you have a pretty decent handle on who you are as a person. Which Buck does have… and we’ve seen that? So it has to be a reference to his newly discovered and realized sexuality.

Which, AGAIN is so biphobic and plays into incredibly harmful bisexual stereotypes that bisexuals need to “explore” to figure out what or who they want. This means either they need to fuck around and make sure they’re really bisexual. OR they need to get enough experience with their same gender to then be able to have a same-gendered relationship. Both of which are insulting and harmful. This idea that Tommy couldn’t possibly be a lasting relationship because Buck just came out as bisexual is wrong. It’s fine if they didn’t want Tommy to be a long-term love interest or even an end-game love interest, but why couldn’t they have done it differently, to hopefully not play into these harmful stereotypes that are still incredibly prevalent today.

Now do I think they fully intended it to play out as biphobic as it is? Not really, but I do think that the heart of what they wanted—Buck exploring his sexuality—is inherently biphobic because of the way they have chosen to go about it. There’s a world of difference between having Tommy break up with Buck so Buck can go exploring and having OS and TM saying similar things in interviews and Tommy and Buck breaking up and Buck getting back out there and dating around. Which if they had given it just a smidge of thought, I have to hope they would have come to that same conclusion and maybe gone about it in a different way.

Second: What Tim’s saying in interviews about what’s happening on the show and in these storylines doesn’t match up to what we’re seeing

I’m going to paste the few paragraphs related to BuckTommy break up here, just to read. I have bolded what I thought was important and what I’m going to talk about after it.

“Look, I think the breakup was premature, but that was by design. For me, the story that I was trying to tell was here’s a guy, Tommy. He’s not a main character on the show. We haven’t done ‘Tommy Begins’ or something. But you do see him in the ‘Begins’ episodes, in flashbacks, and by the time he leaves in ‘Bobby Begins Again,’ he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s feeling more comfortable. He’s hanging out with the new people at the 118 once Bobby takes over, and they throw him a party and bake him a cake when he goes off to his new post. There was even a reference in Broken when Chimney calls him to do the water drop,” Minear explained. “But Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is. And I think what Tommy realizes is exactly what he said, which is, ‘I’m not your last. I’m your first.'” Minear referenced the coffee shop scene in Season 7, where Buck asked Tommy to give them another shot and come to his sister’s wedding, as a point when Tommy thought, “Alright, this guy’s kind of great. He’s super hot and he’s sweet. And this will be nice. And I’m going to be vulnerable for this.” As the relationship grew stronger and the stakes grew higher, however, Tommy reevaluated things. “I think Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out. And even if Tommy doesn’t know it, he might sense the fact that Buck likes to jump in with both feet a little bit precipitously,” Minear mused. “So was the breakup premature? Yes. Because Tommy was put in a position where he had to be honest. And once he speaks the truth, which is, ‘I think I know where this ends, and I can’t move in with you,’ he’s kind of breaking the spell — the spell of that honeymoon. Tommy even says, ‘I didn’t see this coming either.’ I don’t think either one of them did.”

Okay, lots of things happening in this quote but ultimately there’s a massive disconnect in what TM thinks is happening or what he’s saying is happening and what is actually on screen—and that’s a huge problem. You can’t rely on interviews to explain things, it needs to be in the actual text of the episode.

I think the real crux of the issue is this: “Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is… Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever… he’s kind of breaking the spell—the spell of that honeymoon.”

Let’s break this down a bit. Tommy being in a different place in his life than Buck… How? Buck has, since the pilot episode, been looking and searching for a stable romantic relationship—he’s always craved that and wanted that. Even in the breakup, he was thinking about their future and marriage and moving in with Tommy. Is that not what the next logical step of a relationship might be? So doesn’t that—regardless of whether it was premature or not—prove that Buck and Tommy are in the same place of clearly wanting a long-term, committed relationship? So if this wasn’t the case, why didn’t you show that? Show them having that disconnect or make it clear that Tommy’s dropping hints about their future and Buck is not in the same place so he’s not picking up on them at all. Because what we saw was Buck wanting and seeing a future with Tommy and Tommy basically telling him that the doesn’t actually.  

“Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out.” This is my villain origin point—for real. Because this is also not what we saw! What we saw, was a Buck who was so secure in himself and his relationship, arguably for the first time on this show, that he didn’t panic or second-guess anything really. He was all-in with Tommy and enjoying himself and being with Tommy. He even said that being with Tommy makes him more comfortable with himself—aka what a lot of couples say when they’re in committed and reciprocal, healthy romantic relationships—that being with you makes me happy being me. (Paraphrasing here, but hopefully my point gets across.)

Because what is there for Buck to figure out yet? He knows he’s bisexual and incredibly into Tommy. He’s happy and content with his work life and seems pretty happy with where he’s living. His relationships with his friends and family are all as good as they usually are. So what is there for Buck to still figure out? I’m left to assume that this is again only about his sexuality, which just keeps adding more to the pile of shit that makes me feel crappy and uncomfortable with this storyline.

Also, why couldn’t Buck and Tommy last? Why is that assumed to be the correct conclusion to come to? How many high school sweethearts get together and last? How many people who don’t date until they’re in their 20s-30s find someone right away and stay together? How many people come out as queer later in life because they have found someone they click with and it just makes them see more of themselves and they stay together? Sure, this is not the case with every single person in these situations, but it’s not unheard of. To me, this just feels like the show and Tim are acting like Buck is a young, 20-year-old child and now a grown man in his 30s…

What we actually saw on our screens, was two people who genuinely seemed to enjoy each other and spending time together. That had an easy and sweet relationship, where they both felt settled and comfortable together. It’s why the weird change in 806 felt so abrupt—what do you mean these two people who had amazing communication up until that point, have not talked about their past relationships at all? I think that was done as a shortcut for the writers and TM to say, “Look, see, they’re not compatible, they can’t last because they’re not talking about anything serious.” But again, my point is: then you should have showed us that beforehand, given some foreshadow or lead up to it. Instead, they chose to blindside the audience for the “shock value” and it didn’t work. Shock value for shock value’s sake never works for the audience. They don’t want the rug to be pulled out from under them, they want to see you building something and only after it’s built can they see what you were doing the whole time.

Now, I understand that they just wanted to break them up for “story” reasons (which I have no faith is going to be anything good). While I personally hate that because I feel like there would have been much more storylines and things for Buck to be involved in and it would have opened up a lot more potential stories for the future, I get that it’s not my decision to make. But why couldn’t they actually make this make sense in the actual context of what we’d seen already? If you wanted to break them up because they’re in different places, then having Buck ask Tommy to move in could have caused more of an argument of Tommy saying that Buck doesn’t really see him and doesn’t seem to understand that Tommy has a whole life outside of Buck. O Tommy could have been the one to propose moving in together and Buck freaks out because it’s too soon—which leaves Tommy to come to the conclusion that they want different things right now and he can’t just sit around and hoping Buck will catch up because it would be too hard for him to let go of Buck later. Or have Tommy literally going to a different place—whether temporarily or permanently—and so they have to break up because Buck has a whole life here and Tommy wasn’t about to ask Buck to uproot himself for Tommy…

There’s so many other ways this breakup could have gone instead of the route they went—and they would have made much more sense contextually. Instead, they went this cheapest way possible and have Buck now acting like a child about calling Tommy, when in reality and with the growth we’d seen of Buck in the past 8 years, he would have reached out to Tommy already. At least to talk things through. The baking thing was cute for an episode and it would have been okay for longer, but I’m just sitting here wondering exactly why Buck can’t call Tommy… If it’s because he’s hurt, then they needed to say that because right now, it just seems like Buck is literally being forced to not call him but the audience isn’t really sure why.

All this brings me to my biggest point. Third: I don’t trust anything that’s being said in interviews or by TM because he doesn’t write in advance and that’s a major problem

Before we get into it let me make a disclaimer: I’m gonna need every single network and studio to start requiring all the white men who write for them to actually be getting them scripts. We cannot rely on their “genius” to make sense because these scripts—especially season 8—should have had a few more passes before what we’ve seen. The only episode so far that actually felt like a complete episode was the Halloween episode.

And if this season has taught us anything, it’s that Tim not having any real plans or anything written is actually a massive problem for this show.

Now me not believing TM is not me saying that I 100% believe Tommy is coming back (though I feel like the chances are higher now with the reaction from the GA for ABC to suggest some things or at least give a closure beat to this character and relationship) This is more, nothing that TM has said in interviews up until this point for season 8 has really actually happened on screen except for Eddie shaving his moustache… Granted, I don’t read every single article with him so I might have missed something, but I just feel like he’s got no interest in setting anything up and actually paying it off in any real way.

So many people were so excited for season 8 because it was the first season in years where we actually knew so many storylines going into 8—that weren’t told to us in interviews; they were introduced in the actual show! We had Bobby/Athena’s house hunting, HenRen fighting Ortiz and trying to get Mara back, Madney fostering Mara in HenRen’s place, Eddie dealing with Christopher leaving, and Gerrard back at the 118. Any one of those storylines would have been so amazing to really see explored and fleshed out. Instead, everything was basically settled and done by episode 4—apart from Christopher and Eddie resolution and Bobby/Athena actually moving in / building. To me, as a writer myself, that decision to rush though those other stories was a massive massive misstep. There was so much there to explore and delve into that could have been so satisfying to watch and really reap the emotional payoff.

Instead, we had like 2-4 minutes max of processing HenRen not being able to see Mara again before they were all reunited. Not that I wanted to see HenRen struggling again in this way, but it would have been different and they could have put some humor into it with Karen suggesting they tail Ortiz and try to find things out about her—or Hen comes back from a shift to find Karen has stayed up for 38 hours tracking every single facebook post from Ortiz and her family to try and find something they could use and she’s the one who uncovered the link between Ortiz and Gerrard, which then promts Hen to ask Buck as Gerrard’s specialist boy to ask for a favor or try to convince Gerrard to help them deal with Ortiz.

And Maddie and Chimney having Mara would have been so interesting to see them actually having conversations about what they want for their family going forward—do they want more kids, do they not? Are they wanting to try naturally or adoption? And then Mara being with Chimeny could have also added another layer of tension between Hen and Chimney with Hen being jealous that Chimney is raising her daughter.

I mean Eddie… the fact that it took 8 episodes (basically) for him to actually acknowledge that he needs to do something to be a part of his son’s life is a major problem as well. It makes me not want to root for Eddie to reconcile with Chris because he has shown hardly any initiative in actually confronting what he did and the actual reason why Chris is so upset and feels betrayed. There was a little in 6, but that’s sort of it.

Bobby and Athena, they just don’t seem to know what to do with them anymore. And that’s a shame because there are so many things they could do—namely my favorite thing which is give them more comedy to do! They are so funny together (cruise ship is one of my favorite things). Or they could have had the first few episodes be them sort of couch surfing through the firefam and be a fun little runner of “we really need to figure out what we’re doing.” Even their storyline of their house burning just doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore.

Buck, it would have been so amazing to see him dealing with the work stuff more and having Tommy to lean on, to see Buck who’s been pretty secure in his work for the past few seasons now dealing with Bobby being gone and Gerrard there, just really gets him thinking about the future. Or even the comment about budget cuts, why was that never brought up again? That would have been so interesting to lead up to the midseason finale, which of the 118 is going to get laid off? And Buck being in such a secure spot maybe he volunteers because he wants to explore something outside of firefighting and/or because everyone else has kids and a family and he knows it’s easier for him to not have a job? And then he’s saying his goodbyes and the midseason act out is Bobby announcing that Eddie is going to be leaving them instead.

Instead of really exploring any of that, it’s all been rushed through to move on to the next thing, but the honest truth is: I don’t trust what TM’s great next thing is because he absolutely squandered all the potential he had going into season 8. So all these “amazing things” he has going forward I just don’t trust they’re going to happen or even be slightly interesting. Instead, I assume they’re going to be something that’s like an episode opening and then never mentioned again if they do happen.

I just don’t understand what is going on in his head other than ego right now and I’m just… I deal with too many egos in my life to deal with another one like this.

[alisdarkwrites]

Yan! Oikawa and iwa Drabble <3

Fem pov

Tw: noncon, stalking, yandere behavior/themes, drugging, bullying, implied murder briefly mentioned, they put their cum into the drink (is that a tw?)

A/n: I feel like I talked weird in this but I kinda enjoy it and ahhhhh I’ve been gone so longggggg

Mdni

Everything is under the cut!

Oikawa falling inlove with someone so unpopular and insignificant to him that he can’t help but ask himself why? Why fall for her?

To cope with it Oikawa starts to make fun of her. The way she looks, dresses, acts. Despite the fact that he loves every single one of these things.

When he finds out iwaizumi feels the same way about her he isn’t happy at first. But as their feelings for poor, unsuspecting girl they have a crush on spiral into mad obsession they can’t help but work together.

Oikawa has some of his more insane, deluded fan girls stalk his darling, while iwaizumi takes out the trash. He scares off any potential suitors, whether by threatening them, or a more permanent solution.

Of course this isn’t enough! So oikawa throws a party, inviting everyone including his darling.

It’s perfect!

He has iwaizumi go up to her, acting all nice. Iwaizumi flirts with her a little bit and then offers to get her a drink. Once he goes off he has oikawa get the special little drink they made for her <3

They know it’s terrible, putting a sedative and a tiny bit of their cum into the drink but it’s ok… you’ll forgive them right?

Iwaizumi goes back to you, all kind and sweet, it’s to bad you don’t notice that gleam in his eye.

Once it finally kicks in, he asks if you need some rest. Of course you accept. Iwaizumi would never do anything bad right?

He brings you to oikawa bedroom, gently placing you on the bed. He leaves, locking the door behind him. You can’t help but drift into a deep, deep sleep…

When you wake up you can barely move. It’s hard to open your eyes but when you eventually do you see Oikawa in front of you. He beams at seeing you wake up. You feel someone wrap their forearm around your neck, putting you in a chokehold. You look up and realize it’s Iwaizumi.

You try to escape but your limbs feel so, so heavy. Iwaizumi grabs your arms, holding both of the with only one of his hands, pressing them out against your stomach. That’s when you realize that you were naked.

You started to freak out, begging them to stop and give you your clothes back. But oikawa just laughs and rubs you on the head.

Oikawa removes all of his clothes, gently pressing his cock against your hole. You beg him, beg and beg and beg him to not do this but nothing you say detours him.

He forces himself in

It’s painful, a burning sensation. It hurts before it’s even all the way in. Your telling him that he’s to big, that it hurts, but he just kisses you on the head.

His pace doesn’t make it any better. The second he thinks you’ve had enough time to adjust he pulls out most of the way. You feel relieved for a few seconds before he slams back in.

It goes on for hours, constant begging for it to stop and him mercilessly thrusting into you. Iwaizumi just kisses you, telling you that it’s ok <3

[hashimasims]

Presenting Kaye for @changingplumbob's Dating Deanna

Hello there! Umm . . . My name's Kaye and I'm applying to be a contestant on Dating Deanna

I've just recently aged up to a young adult (21 in Watcher years) and moved out of my Mother's house and into an apartment in San Myshuno! Nothing I ever did made her happy but I think most of that stems from the fact that we're on one of the spare branches of this save's legacy family - did I forget to mention my last name is Glynnan? I was also born a human which is a MAJOR area of contention for my mother Deliliah who thinks it's a disgrace but my big brother Domenic loves me just the same and doesn't care that I'm not exactly the girly girl princess mother always wanted. I wanted to play football instead of joining the cheer leading team in high school and I'm a bit of a glutton - though I consider myself more a foodie who just enjoys ALL food!

I'm an Adventurous sim and I love the slopes of Mt. Komorebi just don't put me on a set of skis, snowboarding is the only way to go down the mountain! I do have to admit that though I don't dislike rock climbing I'd much prefer using the safer machines found at gyms to actually climbing the mountain after hearing about my Uncle Daolong's incident.

I'm working on becoming a professional athlete one day and here's to hoping one of the EA Gods will patch in professional snowboarding. If that happens I'd be the happiest woman ever! But currently just making Candles and selling them on Plopsy to make a bit of extra cash while I slowly move up the athletic career corporate ladder.

I love listening to music at the end of a long day but PLEASE no winter holiday music! I heard far to much of that All I Want for Winterfest Song while I was working retail as a teenager I NEVER EVER want to hear it again if I can help it!

Now for the specifics I guess . . .

I'm a cisgender female still exploring their sexuality. I'm attracted to both men and woman so being classified as Bisexual might be easiest though I'm leaning more towards Pansexual since I don't really care if someone is nonbinary, trans, genderfluid etc and I've met a few Sims who claim they're bisexual but won't date Trans sims, to each their own but why? If someone makes me happy and I them it seems perfect to me!

My traits are Adventurous, Music Lover, and Glutton. I think there used to be more like Socially Awkward and Vegetarian but my Watcher wasn't sure if @changingplumbob had the more traits mod so removed the last two

My current aspiration is to be a Master Maker

My likes and dislikes are below ↓ There's quite a few but My Watcher actually cut it down from what was there when I was a Teenager

Am I OK with getting flirty with the other contestants? I'm here for Deanna but if any of the other contestants flirt with me I don't see a problem with it since we're not in committed relationships or anything.

Am I open to Polyamory? Maybe? It seems to be working fairly well for my cousin where monogamy hasn't been working for my mother - three kids from three separate failed marriages yikes! Maybe you shouldn't talk trash about El when you don't have even half as healthy of a love life. Sorry mom I know it's not proper to air your dirty laundry on national tumblrvision but oh well! Domenic raised me to think honesty is the best policy so . . .

Open to woohoo? I mean it's part of romance now a days so I'd be alright with it. I just won't let my brother tune in those days. Sorry Dom!

Am I open to flirting with Joey? I think I could be! Again I signed up for Dating Deanna and don't want to hurt her feelings but the heart wants what the heart wants I guess

My watcher is ALL IN!!!

[sgiandubh]

Caitriona didn’t mention Tony. Seems the ‘reporter’ utilized Google. 😂

Dear Didn't Mention Anon,

It's always a sarcastic pleasure to see tension climbing for literally nothing across the street. Some other Brazilian Anon, just like you (best way to convey your thoughts was, in proper English, 'the reporter used Google' - not the Portuguese semantic calque 'utilized'...), even speculated we must be hiding this shattering press article, since no reaction and/or discussion happened as of yet.

Brazilian Anons would certainly have made better use of their time and grey cells if they simply presumed that in another time zone people really have other (simple and boring and prehaps even endearing) things to do. While Brazilan Anons were probably sleeping or having breakfast, someone else was just about to end a shorter Friday work schedule, buy Chinese takeaway on the way home, have a light lunch, take out Baby the Lab for a short pee stroll around the block. And mercifully collapse in flannel sheets for a blessed siesta, waiting for the first snowy day of the year. But enough about me, Anon, you are not here for this: you are here for that article - https://www.mindfood.com/article/caitriona-balfe-looks-ahead-to-life-after-outlander/

It is also an amusing factoid that C's PR and/or *** very often seem to favor second-tier media outlets in order to keep spreading around the Narrative Word. Pinoy regional gazettes, borderline clickbait/gossip websites and now Mindfood, a vanity/hybrid press magazine based and edited in New Zealand and Australia by McHugh Media Group, which main activity, at least in Oz, is (🥁🥁)...paper mills and paper manufacturing - of course.

[Source: https://www.dnb.com/business-directory/company-profiles.mchugh_media_australia_pty_limited.6ded585ed8e21b347589059682b44143.html]

Within that group, the Mindfood project is but an apparently lucrative subsidiary ('integrated media company', LOL), despite some dire client reviews ( 2 out of a resounding global 3, how odd!) on Google:

'Rank amateur's' [sic!] (...) What sort of magazine publisher doesn't have a manned office? (...) They'll go broke very quickly like that.' '(...)pretty shabby treatment of a customer.'

😱😱😱

But let's assume I am twisting again the plot (I don't, I do not need to). Let's assume I am evil like that and I give credence to two very negative (but brutally clear, too) user reviews only. Perhaps I am wrong, you might say. So, let's also have a look at some company figures, shall we?

Nay contest, it's them.

[Source: https://rocketreach.co/mchugh-media-profile_b5d2097af42e3bbb]

Now, my lovelies, how can I put it without offending anyone? What we are looking at, here, is a small company with 5 (five) employees, few web hits (164.480 hits is ridiculous, when we are talking about press/media!), but a comfortable revenue (7 million AUD - about 4.5 million USD). May I remind you that a company's revenue is roughly its gross income, before subtracting operating costs, wages and taxes. But given they have only 5 employees, wage expenses & operating costs must be marginal and taxes are rather friendly in New Zealand, where their HQ is (to the point there was, three years ago, an ongoing debate in order to determine if the country was a tax haven: https://thespinoff.co.nz/business/06-10-2021/is-nz-a-tax-haven-for-the-rich-and-dodgy-the-pandora-papers-reignite-the-debate), you do the maths. Therefore, how can this rather substantial profit be explained, otherwise than by a very friendly editorial policy towards paid and/or sponsored content and product placement galore (Lifestyle, anyone)?

Its immediate competitor is a supermarket chain in-house bulletin/leaflet, Campbell's Cash & Carry. The kind of thing that always lands somehow in your shopping bag and then directly in the kitchen trash:

This is enough to show their real reach and place on the market, I believe.

All this for what, Madam Knife? All this to say that paper is probably paid by the talent's PR/***. I will not go into useless detail, because there is very few new-ish/relevant information (e.g.: 'With a long season seven concluding in January, the Outlander epic will close out within the next 18 months, taking the episode total to 101. '). But I will, gleefully even, point out two tiny details, all of you patiently read this long rant for, in fact.

As always, McGill doesn't even deserve a quote, only reported speech that is, in fact, snowballing prior reference (this is exactly where copy/paste comes in very handy, you see). And a clumsy one at that, sugar on top - hence the copy/paste certainty and this is so, so rude, I could cry (nope...):

But... but... such a nice, thoughtful touch for her Stans, who spent DAYS in a row proving he was not a music producer, but the Night Media Manager (and I have to say, delivered actual quotes - still No Face, No Name, No Number, though):

[Tait rhymes with hate, alright - I know, darlings, it pisses you off to no tomorrow 😉.]

Copy paste/Goes to waste. Finally, I had to snort (not a pretty, nor feminine sight) when I realized Mindfood takes its readers for complete, amnesic idiots:

So she became 'a mother in August of 2021', but she did film 'the sixth season of the drama while pregnant'. Granted, this paper is written for casual OL viewers, the kind of people who did find C interesting/beautiful/clever/extraordinary, but who don't remember her name when prompted on candid camera, for example. The kind of superficial audience who will never do the maths and never question the fact a pregnant actress was filming beautiful (but steamy) scenes with her... ahem... with her co-star she is now 'consciously uncoupling' from.

ROFLMAO.

Not even sorry for the length, Anon. There you go, let's say good bye with a merry little song - I am told I have the best tunes on Tumblr (SMH). Really, Mindfood's client could have curated and tailored better the Retconning Operation - but perhaps even PR has trouble taking that man and his narrative role seriously?

[generalluxun]

I'm still trying to get my head around Chat Noir's complete sidelining not just in the finale, but pretty much the entirety of the show. Based on some of the tweets I've seen, Thomas Astruc is pretty hostile to the suggestion that Chat should have more of a share of the narrative.

So... why? Why make his family, his very existence, the fulcrum on which the show turns? If you want to be the show to only be about Marinette, with Adrien as a side character and "just" a love interest, then MAKE the show only about Marinette. Don't make the main plot about Adrien, and wonder why people are confused when he's not more involved in the main plot. It's such a self-inflicted wound.

Heck, the least they could have done was give Marinette SOME personal stake in her conflict with Hawkmoth, even if it's as uncomplicated as making Marinette a paragon-type superhero like Superman or Captain American who takes her duty to the people of Paris very seriously and feels deeply about the hurt Hawkmoth's is putting them through. But most of Marinette's personal conflicts are about romance or school dynamics. The closest any of her conflicts come to her actual enmity with Hawkmoth are those that deal with the stress of being a superhero/Guardian, in which Hawkmoth doesn't really feature as a person who is her mortal enemy but as an impersonal cause for the stress she's in.

While the finale tries to summon some emotional weight to Marinette's situation, the final fight, at least on Ladybug's end, feels less like the culmination of an epic rivalry and more like a contractual obligation Marinette needs to meet as Gabriel's assigned nemesis.

I mean, the unsatisfying but true answer is twofold:

1)TA never wanted Ladybug to have a partner. That was a requirement in order to get producers lined up to hand over money. It should be understood that I am NOT trashing the producers for this. It is their money. If you want to pursue your purely artistic goal then you secure other funding or self fund. If you want to get something MADE then you have to make what people want to pay to have made. A portion of the friction here comes from the fact that I don't think TA ever stopped fighting for his original version of the show, and that version conflicts directly with the version he was paid to write for.

2)In the context of the above- Adrien is a TROPHY. Gabriel is the DRAGON, and his home life is the TOWER that the KNIGHT Marinette must rescue him from. If Adrien were a side-character he wouldn't be much of a trophy, investment wise. Is it good to make a character purely a trophy? No. It's not good when it is done ot female characters, it's not good when it's done to male ones either. (Or intersex, enby, nongendered, etc) We've moved past the kind of storytelling TA is selling in his vision of ML. It feels like something out of the early 00's, which when you consider where he started his work, makes a lot of sense.

Should they have connected Marinette to Gabriel more? Absolutely! They both do fashion! SHE could have had an internship right along with Lila. Can you imagine the rivalry there? Can you imagine the conflicts with Gabriel?

At the VERY least they should have let Marinette actually track down abriel. Let her put all her planning and analysis to good use! Instead they just had Felix do it all and then some blind luck at the end. That's LAME, that's cheating Marinette out of a well deserved culmination story beat.

Punching has never been what Ladybug was about, so a final fight could never be a satisfying climax no matter how 'epic' it was.

[castillon02]

When Jason starts to prioritize cooperation as well as vengeance, Tim suspects Jason's self-control still isn't that great. Since he's Tim, well...

He conducts some tests.

Hood is about to murder someone that they need information from when Tim calls out, "Hey, Hood, has anyone ever told you that you're a Decepticon wannabe who probably fucks himself to the sound of his own robot voice?"

Hood stills.

The drug dealer who sold tenth-grader Benny Garcia fentanyl gapes in a way that shows off his recently-missing teeth.

Hood drops the dealer in a heap and turns his shitkicker combat boots in Tim's direction.

Tim bolts. Batman will swoop in to continue the dealer's interrogation; he and Hood have figured out a good-cop-bad-cop thing, though Batman still seems bemused about the chance to be 'good cop.'

Hood races after him.

---

Tim makes it to a safe house off of Robinson Park. He probably lost Hood about half an hour ago, but it never hurts to be careful. Especially when---oh, shit.

"This place is filthy," Jason says, sitting on the kitchen counter that Tim never uses and looking with disdain at Tim's collection of empty energy drink cans, takeout boxes, and crime yarn. Jason's not wearing his helmet or domino, and he taps his boot heels softly against the cabinet door like a little kid. Not exactly danger signals.

But for a moment, all Tim can look at is the boots. It's stupid; the knife at his neck was closer to fatal. But the kicking had hurt the worst.

"Since you apparently have time to run your mouth," Jason says, "and since someone stole my target, it seems like we both have time to clean up in here. I went out and got trash bags." He nudges a box on the counter next to him. The trash bags are the sturdy kind, not the flimsy cheap kind or the extra-strength hide-the-body-parts kind.

Tim has been meaning to get trash bags for this place for three weeks. It's just that he doesn't visit often, and when he does it's usually when he's injured or tired, and he could get things delivered but that's a paper trail he could avoid if he just made time to visit the bodega down the street... "You're a trash bag," he says, even though it doesn't make sense.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Just for that, we're mopping the floor too. Luckily, I came prepared." He hops down from the counter and opens the little mystery closet next to the fridge. Inside: a broom, a Swiffer, a bucket, a pack of scrub brushes still in their plastic, and a jug of bleach.

Ohhh, that's why the closet is so narrow. It's supposed to hold cleaning supplies. Right. Tim definitely knew that. Tim definitely doesn't just have a roll of paper towels...somewhere...that he sometimes puts dish soap on.

He squints at Jason. Still no green danger-eyes. "Darcy and Elizabeth would never let you be part of a throuple with them," he tries.

Jason pulls out a trash bag. "They've got issues anyway."

"Helen Keller would make up new words so she could sign how ugly your face is."

"She was a socialist," Jason says. He holds the bag and gestures at Tim's kitchen table. "So we'd probably just talk about organizing the working class. I don't think looks would come into it. Also, way to be a dick."

"You're so pathetic that Jane Eyre would give up on you like she didn't give up on Rochester," Tim says, figuring he did the research for this attack, so he might as well use it.

Jason actually laughs a little bit. "First of all, there's a lot of power exchange going on in that decision, so jot that down," he says. "Second of all." He looks Tim in the face. "If I start to lose my temper, I'll leave, okay? Or you can just ask me to."

"Even if I asked right now?" Tim asks.

"Even if you asked right now," Jason confirms, though he eyeballs Tim's mess.

Jason's still holding the trash bag. Hands out, open body language, seemingly not homicidal.

Tim had planned for a lot of things with this encounter, including a body bag. Trash bags weren't one of his considered variables. He starts picking up empty cans. "This one can be for recycling," he says, dumping the cans into Jason's bag. New things from old materials. Jason likes that symbolism shit, right?

(Though...new things. Old materials. If there's anyone who ought to be good at that, it's someone who got raised from the dead.

Tim smirks and keeps the thought to himself. Operation: Limitless has been a startling success; he doesn't need to verbalize all his inside thoughts now.)

("Kid, I can tell you're thinking about a zombie joke," Jason says anyway. "You can only tell me after we've brought this shit-heap back to life.")

[sweetbunpura]

Cloudcalling on the Savanna: Checkmate

WC: 1146

Leona Looked up as storm clouds started to roll in, his eyes shifting down towards the arena as Kalim stepped out of it. With Lilia disqualified and Vil out of commission, it all fell on his back up plan.

“Shall I prepare the classes ahead of time?”

Green eyes shifted over to where Kifaji sat with a smirk on his face. Leona glared at him over Cheka’s head and jerked his head down to the arena.

“You haven’t won yet, Bird. If you start celebrating prematurely, then what’s about to happen next, is going to make you eat your words.”

The final team’s opponent stepped into the ring and while Kalim, Vil, and Lilia began to talk among them, Leona’s final chess piece entered the ring as well. The figure tore off their cloak and tied their hair back in a ponytail.

“It’s Auntie!” Cheka beamed and jumped in his seat. “You got Auntie in, Unca!” He tugged on Leona’s sleeve and pointed at the arena.

Yuu rolled her shoulders and jumped in place a few times. Her eyes locked onto Leona’s and she smiled, he returned it before flicking his tail, signaling her to go ahead. The match began just as the rain started to fall.

“You’re the backup plan?” Her opponent teased her. “It should’ve been the fae.”

“You know, they say trash talking is the sign of not being confident in one’s skill.” Yuu smirked and stretched her legs. “So, you must be pretty shit to be trash talking a girl. You that scared or something?”

Leona tried to hide his smirk as his ears caught the stifled laughter from Vil and Lilia. Her opponent snarled and dove at Yuu, who swiftly dodged as she was light on her feet. From there on, the magicless student danced around the arena and never once made a grab for the beads.

“You talk about my trash talk when you dodge everything!” The guy snarled and gestured to Kalim. “You’re no better than he is! So, are you just as weak too!?”

The shift in Yuu was immediate as her playful nature left and she rolled her shoulders. She raised her hand and motioned for him to come at her. The moment he did, the young woman caught his arm and twisted it before throwing him on the ground and snatching the beads only in a matter of seconds. A heavy silence fell over the arena as Yuu signed and spun the beads around her finger.

“Way to ruin it for me.” She grumbled. “The first time out in a while where I don’t have to worry about anyone and you start shit.” Yuu tossed the beads up and down as she stepped over the guy like he was trash.

Lilia couldn’t hold in his laughter and let it loose, filling the air with his shrill giggles. Vil tried to cover his laughter up with coughs to save his image. Leona waited for the murmurs to start up before he threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. Even Kalim’s laughter couldn’t be contained as Yuu stepped off the platform.

“I-how...” Kifaji blinked and adjusted his glasses. “There’s no feasible way she can move that fast.”

“I wanna do that!” Cheka shouted with glee.

“Cheka.” Kifaji muttered and the cub settled down quickly with a pout. “My prince, is this your doing?”

“I don’t have to tell you.” Leona scoffed as he got up. “All you need to see is the outcome. That stunt you pulled with the backup was low, unfortunately for you, Cheka loves his ‘auntie’ and he told her everything.”

“That was...” Kifaji cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “You did all of this at the last minute?”

“Yes and no.” Leona’s tail flicked in irritation. “You twisted the rules to try and one up me, but you didn’t see the Queen I had protected in the back. So, checkmate, bird.”

Leona got up, ruffled Cheka’s hair, and departed from the stands. Kifaji tired to call him back, but the prince ignored him and joined the NRC group. Without hesitation, Leona picked Yuu up and made a dash for his car with the others scrambling behind the couple. Vil barely managed to close the door just as Leona put the vehicle in drive.

They took off down the road with the top down as they laughed about the match. Yuu leaned on her arm and seemed to be nodding off, only to be shaken awake by Lilia.

“Yuu, why didn’t you tell us that you can do that?”

Yuu yawns and rubs her eyes. “All the times you’ve seen me fight and now you ask that?”

“I never stayed for the full fights, dear.”

“Well, my own training for my profession and then Leona personally trained me for this.”

“My, my, Leona spoiled you~” Lilia chuckled.

“Shut up.” Leona huffs as Yuu leans on his shoulder, which he places his hand on her shoulder.

“...How long were you guys training for?” Vil asked.

“Early into the morning.” Leona rubs Yuu’s shoulder. “She only got two hours of sleep.”

“Two hours of- Leona.” The model replied firmly. “Potato needs more than that.”

“Wait, and she still had the energy to do all that?” Kalim spoke up. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” The city had appeared ahead of them. “If the bird starts asking anything, ignore him. He ain’t worth the energy.”

As soon as they reached the city and the hotel, they disembarked from the car and made their way to their rooms. Lilia helped Vil while Leona carried a sleeping Yuu in his arms. The others went to their rooms as Leona made tracks to his. He set Yuu on the bed and tossed off his wet clothes, just as he was putting on a pair of pants, a low whistle sounded from the bed.

“What a thing to wake up to.” Leona snorted and approached the bed, “If I wasn’t so tired, then I would love to celebrate our win.”

He stares down at a very drowsy Yuu who's looking back up at him with a smile on her face. The lion beastman chuckles and places his hands on either side of her head while he leans down. His tail swaps behind him as he stares down his girlfriend.

“Go back to sleep, Herbivore.”

Yuu reaches up and tugs on his braids. “Only if you join me.”

Leona kisses her without a moment of hesitation as he wraps his arms around her and flips them so she’s laying on top of him.

“Best pillows~.” Is the last thing Yuu says before passing out.

He holds her close and gives a low rumbling purr as he buries his face in her hair.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” He muttered and gave a shaky breath. “Thank you for being here.”

[ishikawayukis]

chat i'm at my fucking limit

[mammomlette]

People don’t talk about MC needing to wear a magical ring to not accidentally yk cause NATURAL DISASTERS with their powers??? Not only accidentally but without realising???

Diavolo or smthn is asking too much of MC or being a bit too annoying and their other hand slowly drifts towards the ring and they hold onto it while maintaining dead eye contact. Like continue to piss me off hoe I’ll blink and blow a hole in your castle idk

Obv they never do it (or do they?) but the threat is there and it’s a risk dia (or whoever but I’m using dia) can’t take