#political cartoons about trains

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Political Cartoons feat. Heavy Harry

I am uncertain entirely of the specific political context of the top one but it is to be noted that at this time, 1) Australia still used the Pound instead of the Dollar, 2) a cluster of conditions was beginning to manifest at the VR where decades of austerity, a lack of money and a need to spend money to update rather than modify locomotives, rollingstock and rails were making themselves felt which brought forth "Operation Phoenix", the results of which are still being argued over on railfan forums.

The last two are pretty clearly about that. (None of them even look like Harry though... the bloke with the face on the funnel... the third one actually looks like a streamlined S-class Pacific, all of which were viciously scrapped by 1954.)

Bit unfair also to put a specific locomotive's name to the cluster of issues afflicting the VR.

"Operation Phoenix" 's logo of a roc from Sinbad carrying away an A2.

Pluto: Put me down you big stupid bird! Engines were never meant to farkin' fly...grrrr...

[forthegothicheroine]

Truth, justice, freedom, reasonably priced love, and a hardboiled egg. Did Ankh-Morpork get those things, in the end?

They got truth, there was a whole book about it. Vimes didn't want it when he got it, or at least he didn't want the political cartoon section of the newspaper, but Ankh-Morpork got the free press whether anyone liked it or not.

They got justice, thanks first to Carrot and then to Vimes, forcing the City Watch to reform into an organization that helped the citizenry and would arrest the patrician or a whole invading army if it had to. Vimes had to wage a constant war with himself not to turn into just another gang leader, but he waged it.

They did not get freedom. Pratchett was very clear on that. Things got comparatively better, and immigrants flocked to the city despite it being a hellhole, because the dictator didn't care about persecuting any minority groups or whether or not people made fun of him, but it was still a dictatorship. When Pratchett was alive, fans speculated that he was subtly training Moist von Lipwig to become the new government leader- the Lipwig books always had an emphasis on Vetinari getting older- and Lipwig would have had nothing to fear from an election by popular vote, but that's all fanwank and speculation.

They got reasonably priced love right away. That may have even been one of Vetinari's first acts as patrician, since Mrs. Palm is leader of the Seamstress's Guild at least as far back as the early Watch books.

John Keel's grave got a hardboiled egg every year.

Four out of five ain't bad.

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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Fighting humans was something Danielle was admittedly not too familiar with until being brought to Gotham. There had been other criminals that she’d had to chase off, police that she’d had to politely incapacitate so she and the others could escape, and even the unfortunate passerby that she usually overshadowed to lead them away from their hideout. But for all of those she’d always pulled her punches, knowing that she could do way too much damage and even kill the humans if she hit them with her full strength. Ghosts just tended to be more resilient than living people. Which meant she also couldn’t use any of her ectoplasm based abilities against them most of the time either. Both because of the damage it would do to the humans, and because she didn’t have a good way to recharge quickly. She didn’t need to end up as another comatose team member for the others to take care of.

Facing off against Deathstroke ended up breaking all of Danielle’s beliefs about fighting humans.

While Danielle still couldn’t use too much ectoplasm, she quickly realized she didn’t have to pull her punches. Jason was the first to technically engage Deathstroke, pulling out both pistols and firing mercilessly at the hulking man as he charged towards them. Yet for some unfathomable reason Deathstroke seemed impervious to the gunfire, the only bullets that might have hit him being slashed away with a blade like some ridiculous samurai cartoon. Jason ended up emptying both clips in his guns before Deathstroke reached them, and by that point Dick ran forward to block him while Jason reloaded. Instead of opening fire on Deathstroke again though, he holstered the pistols for now in exchange for his combat knife, not wanting to risk hitting Dick or Danielle in the crossfire.

Dick was definitely familiar with Deathstroke’s attacks, but that didn’t mean it was easy for him to fight the professional killer. Hits were heavy, and the combination of swordplay and martial arts was deadly to even trained combatants. He found he was glad Jason had insisted on staying, for while Jason had a much smaller blade he and Dick were so familiar with each other’s fighting style that it was easy for Jason to sneak in and target Deathstroke’s weak points, or take the heat away from Dick for a moment. It was something that Danielle found difficult to join in on, and her first attempt to punch Deathstroke proved unexpectedly useless since she held back as much as she usually did against living people. All it served to do was bring her in range for Deathstroke to immediately target her instead, his blade swishing over her head as she ducked with a slight yelp.

“Go join the others,” Jason ordered after watching Danielle make a useless attempt to help and almost get beheaded instead, getting Deathstroke’s attention by slicing at his blind side.

“I can fight!�� Danielle protested, giving another test punch with more force behind it, only to have Deathstroke catch her hand. She felt his muscles strain under the impact of her punch this time, his hand pushing her off to the side just in case she broke his resistance. But as he kept ahold of her fist she just phased through his hand to pull back.

“Then stop holding back. He can take all you’ve got,” Dick directed, having been one of the ones who had initially taken Danielle down during the rescue capture mission. He knew she could hit hard. Stephanie and Damian had to help, and they only caught her because of Damian using sedatives.

With the others chatting between themselves, Deathstroke chimed in with a calm comment. “Make this easy on yourselves boys. This time I’m not here for you, so leave the girl and you won’t get hurt.” It should have already been obvious that his target was Danielle and the others of her team, for he all but ignored Dick and Jason when they weren’t in his face.

“Did you honestly think we’d even consider that option?” Jason demanded, quick to snatch his gun out of its holster and start firing again when Deathstroke caught Dick off guard enough to bodily kick him skidding several meters away.

“No,” Deathstroke admitted, leaving back to dodge the bullets for a moment. “But it was worth a shot.” He sounded almost bored, blocking the bullets with his blade once more before getting accustomed enough with Jason’s firing pattern to charge forward again.

As Jason lurched back, half blocking the slash with his knife but still getting cut in the shoulder, Danielle swooped in with a whirling kick to Deathstroke’s chest, phasing through Jason to get the best angle. There was enough force this time that Deathstroke grunted from the impact, getting launched backwards to tumble twice before righting himself and skidding on his feet.

“Nice!” Jason complimented, caught just a little off guard at the more Superman-like display of strength. 

“Your fault if he dies,” Danielle shot back, already very uncomfortable with how different this fight was compared to others. She didn’t want to kill anyone, but if it happened because of self defense she’d have to learn how to come to terms with it. As long as this guy didn’t just turn into another ghost like Skulker. That seemed like a nightmare in the making.

“Great. I’d thank you if you managed that,” Jason returned, readying himself for another round.

“No killing,” Dick countered, reaching them again and taking his position near Jason.

“Kill him. Don’t kill him. You guys should work on your mutual goals,” Danielle scoffed, following as the two of them rushed Deathstroke this time.

It really was unfair that the old man was able to keep up with all three of them. Danielle hadn’t fought Jason before, but Dick had been the main one she’d fought before, so she knew he wasn’t a wimp. Yet it seemed the only real hits they were able to get in were the ones that she snuck in between the others’ moves. Back and forth in a broken dance of ill intent, stealing blood when steps faltered or reactions were just a tad too slow. Deathstroke’s blade sliced Dick’s forehead and bicep, and Jason’s forearm and thigh in addition to the previous gash on his shoulder. But in return Jason had gotten two good cuts on Deathstroke’s ribs and arm. That combined with brutal hits from Dick’s escrima sticks and Danielle’s fists made her feel like they had done a near equal amount of damage to each other. Perhaps it would be a duel of endurance in the end.

As the fight dragged on it started to wear on those involved. Danielle was pretty sure Jason had a broken finger, and the cut on Dick’s forehead was bleeding profusely. Deathstroke had learned soon enough that if he got Danielle quick enough she didn’t have time to become intangible, small cuts drawing green blood to add to the red staining the silver of his sword. And if she bled, that meant she could be killed. Even if the injuries stopped bleeding soon after they were made. He’d just have to hit her with something harder then, and for that he strategically created an opening for himself.

By now they had gotten used to him targeting Danielle when she was close enough. So this time Deathstroke made a feint towards Danielle before switching his attack towards Dick’s neck. Luckily Dick’s reflexes were fast enough that he lurched backwards to avoid it, but it still would have left a large gash across his collarbone and chest if Danielle hadn't caught it. And that was the opening Deathstroke was aiming for, his other hand snatching a small pistol loaded with a shotshell from his armory and firing it into Danielle’s chest. The startled half scream from Danielle was cut off by both the shot shell beads, and Deathstroke’s foot kicking her from the air to tumble meters away.

“DANI!” Dick’s shout was accompanied by Jason’s renewed effort to beat Deathstroke unconscious, wordlessly increasing his offense to allow Dick to break away and skid to his knees near Danielle. As Dick’s mind whirled through all the first aid he knew that might help the girl, his hands resting on her back as she coughed, he was surprised to see her start shoving herself upright after a short groan. At first he thought maybe she hadn’t been hit by the shot shell, or it had been a non lethal capsule. But as Danielle shoved herself to her knees and snapped her head up to glare at Deathstroke with a snarl Dick saw the green blood dripping from multiple wounds on her chest and knew it had been a dead on hit. It left him a little stunned as Danielle pushed herself to her feet, spitting a small amount of green blood that she’d coughed into her mouth.

“THAT HURT, BITCH!” Danielle shouted once she was on her feet again, phasing a hand into her chest to pull out a pellet and hurl it to the ground. The comment was unexpected enough that Jason ended up distracted, both by Danielle still talking and the words she’d used, and got brutally elbowed in the side of the head.  As Jason collapsed to the ground, movements uncoordinated because of the blow to the head making his vision spin, Dick threw one of his escrima sticks at Deathstroke and charged forward to protect his brother.

“So that wasn’t enough either,” Deathstroke mused, knocking the airborne escrima stick aside and intrigued by Danielle’s ability to still be moving despite having taken a full round of shot shell ammo. 

“That’s it,” Danielle spat as Deathstroke blocked Dick’s next attack, kicking off the ground and snapping forward once again. This time instead of pulling her fist back for a punch, or otherwise outwardly attacking Deathstroke, she kept going, phasing through Dick and Deathstroke’s weapon and arm, wisping into his chest. Yet neither Dick or Jason noticed her appear on the other side, and neither had time to fully react before Deathstroke was abruptly dropping to one knee and plunging his sword into the top of his other knee.

“..... What the…?” Jason huffed, the screeching tires of the batmobile drowning out the rest of his words while he staggered to his feet, openly staring at Deathstroke’s display of sudden onset of madness.

“How much damage do I have to do to stop this guy?”

The question came from Deathstroke’s mouth, but sounded odd. Dick and Jason paused in disorientation, glancing around for Danielle before Dick made a connection in his head. Jazz had mentioned something about ‘overshadowing’ to Danielle, and some of the reports from the past two months had records of people behaving oddly, suddenly defending the people they were chasing or fighting their allies, and then having no memory of doing so.

“...Dani?” Dick asked, not completely sure, but confident enough to hold his hand out to stop Damian and Bruce from joining the fight. It looked like Damian had Talia on his phone as well, holding the device facing them.

“No, it’s grandma,” Danielle retorted with Deathstroke’s voice, understandably irritable. “Now answer the question,” she demanded, jerking the blade in Deathstroke’s knee slightly.

—---

The silence provided by the batmobile’s soundproof encasing was broken by Damian’s phone ringing as they hurtled down the streets, destined to meet up with Dick and Jason to provide backup if necessary. They all knew Bruce was the one who could best deal with Deathstroke, but if what they said was true and someone had hired the man without Talia’s knowing then Damian figured he might be able to put a stop to the matter without a prolonged battle. As much as he would love to stab Deathstroke in the other eye, that usually led to injuries to his family that were best avoided. Luckily his call was quick to be answered.

“Damian.”

Talia’s greeting was simple, but his name was spoken with more love than Talia bequeathed to anyone else. Other than, perhaps, Bruce. Usually if Talia deemed someone worthy enough to have her answer their call she only commanded them to speak.

“Mother.”

The returned greeting was just as simple, for Damian had learned the habit from her.

“It is rare for you to call,” Talia responded, and Damian could hear the smile in her voice despite the tense situation. They both knew Damian reaching out to her directly was risky. Other children would have weekly calls with their parents while abroad, if not daily. But their situation was much too different to allow for such a consistent opening. “What concerns you?” she asked, knowing he would only call if there was important, but not critical matters at hand.

“We have discovered the League’s most recent contract with Deathstroke,” Damian informed her easily. No need to question if she was aware or not, her response would tell him. “I must insist the contract be terminated, or we risk damaging connections with important contacts…. I imagine this was not of your doing,” he couldn’t help asking if she was responsible.

“What?” Talia’s answer dispelled the sliver of doubt Damian had. Her anger still ran deep towards Deathstroke; there was no one who remained from Ra’s time as head that would ever be willing to affiliate with Deathstroke again. She was quick to recover though, pausing for only a moment to align the facts in her mind, and research the source of the contract leading them to her people. When she spoke again it was with mild confusion only because it was her son she spoke to. “You are not the target, nor are any of yours. Why are you involved?”

“The targets are my wards,” Damian responded simply.

The words caused Talia to pause again, thoughtful as she browsed through the pertinent information on the computer next to her. She didn’t recognize any of the targets, but seeing their listed crimes made her understand what had happened. A delivery to a research team, tasked with potentially amplifying the Lazarus pit’s attributes, intercepted by an unknown group of teenagers. Someone on the research team had stepped out of line and ordered the hit, somehow getting it past the League’s administration without even requesting her authorization. There were several people now on the list to be severely punished, if not terminated. 

Despite the welcomed revelation, the target location of this Team Phantom made Talia pause, questioning Damian’s words. “...You claim they are your wards, yet you keep them isolated from you. Far from your home,” she pointed out, and Damian clenched his jaw. She wasn’t trying to say he was lying, was she? Or did she think he was being manipulated? He wouldn’t put it past his mother to worry for him needlessly.

A quick glance at Bruce to judge his mood, knowing he was listening, and Damian answered after Bruce nodded with some reluctance. “They are to be relocated, but only once they are without assailants. Damaging the manor would be an unnecessary annoyance.”

Talia hummed, a smile tugging her lips as she was now curious about the ones who had charmed her family. But Bruce wasn’t within the view of the camera, and as he slammed on the brakes and the cover of the batmobile slid back Damian hopped out of the car. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but it looked a lot more promising than he’d initially imagined. Deathstroke was kneeling with a blade in his leg and Jason pointing a gun at his head. So Damian showed his mother the state of the assassin as Deathstroke spoke with a voice that was his own, yet words that were not.

“I have the ability to overshadow others, and make them do or say what I want while they’re completely unaware,” Danielle explained through Deathstroke’s voice. “It’s not the most comfortable state, but I can inflict more damage if I need to.” She was responding to a question from Dick, but as Damian approached with the phone held so Talia could see she was the one that responded.

“Then kill him,” she directed simply. “Many would welcome his demise.”

“That’s not how we work,” Damian spoke before Dick or Jason could respond, gaining a faint smile of his own. “Terminate the contract… Please.”

This time it didn’t take long for Talia to sigh in compliance, a fondness saturating her breath. “Very well,” she accepted, “Release him, and I will speak.”

No one moved for a breath, but after Damian nodded once Danielle’s sigh was half with Deathstroke’s voice before becoming her own as she floated out from his form. She stayed close as he grunted in the sudden realization of pain and what his current situation was, but Talia spoke up quickly.

“Slade. In light of recent information your contract will be annulled. You will be compensated half of your payment for your efforts spent as of now, and if you persist you will be hunted by the League of Assassins. You can take my offer, or be killed now. Which is it?”

Her terms were delivered quickly, and while Dick’s face scrunched in mild confusion as to who among them Talia thought would be willing to kill Deathstroke in her place, Jason shifted the pistol in his hand slightly to remind them it was there. And he deliberately ignored the way Bruce’s eyes narrowed at him. Deathstroke was enough of a pain to all of them that no one would miss him. Yet it turned out to be Danielle who tipped the scale.

“Answer fast or I might start ripping organs out. You’ll be surprised how many aren’t strictly necessary,” Danielle added, phasing her hand into Deathstroke’s chest to prove her point. She was testy, but she felt she had a good reason to be. She still had to dig the rest of those bullet shards out of her chest after all.

Deathstroke paused a moment longer, having not quite been swayed by Talia’s words just on principle. But after taking a testing breath and faintly feeling Danielle’s hand in his chest he realized dealing with the half dead girl might end up costing him more than he was willing to pay. So he answered soon enough. “Done. I expect to see the transfer before they’re out of sight.”

“You’ll get it when I deem it so,” Talia responded curtly.

Deathstroke watched the screen for a beat, gauging if he could barter any further before giving in. “I should have known you hadn’t changed your mind.”

“You should thank Damian instead of wasting your words on me,” Talia retorted with a scoff. “If I had my way, you’d already be dead.”

“Hmph. I won’t waste anymore of your time,” Deathstroke huffed. There was no way he was going to even consider thanking the demon child. He should have trusted his mind and not taken this contract in the first place.

“Consider yourself lucky we’re still paying you,” Damian scoffed in return, nodding his head for the others to start moving to the batmobile. “Show your face again near any of the Phantoms, and I’ll reconsider letting you live.”

There was a hesitant moment of the others not being sure if the conversation was done or not, but as Damian started to walk back towards the batmobile, turning the phone to face himself again, they followed suit. Danielle released her hold only when Jason and Dick were a few steps away, all three of them eyeing the man as they moved. Bruce made sure he was the last to follow, keeping himself between his family and Deathstroke.

“I will provide you with a full report tonight, Mother. If that is acceptable,” Damian spoke quietly to Talia once he was far enough away for Deathstroke to be deaf to his words.

“I look forward to it, my son. Be well,” Talia responded, her voice softening again with her expression moments before ending the call.

Two thirds of the way to the car Danielle felt the adrenaline wearing off quickly, causing her to drop lower until she was sagging to the ground on her knees. Her chest hurt, but at least it wasn’t bleeding that much anymore. It should be fine to take the rest of the shot shell pellets out now, so she took a moment to phase herself intangible without affecting the shards. “Ouuuhh, that was tiring,” she muttered, flexing her fingers as the beads clinked on the asphalt and rolled away. At least she was still stable. Now she just had to get back to the others and think of a way to calm them down when she got there. Something she didn’t have to worry too much about, for Dick had paused next to her and as soon as she returned to a tangible state he leaned over to quickly scoop her up. Without a word he picked up his pace to the batmobile, hopping into the backseat with her after Damian took the front.

Jason was walking backwards towards the vehicle, keeping his pistol trained on Deathstroke as the old man held his hands up in surrender, and staying aware of his family and their guest. He wasn’t planning on lowering the gun anytime soon either, but once he bumped against the batmobile Bruce snatched the gun out of his hand. It caused Jason to snap his gaze over to Bruce with a glare hidden behind his mask, but he knew Bruce was more than familiar with the look. And this time Bruce returned it for a moment before subtly nodding towards the car. They both knew the injury to his head had affected Jason more than he was letting on if Bruce had been able to take the gun so easily.

With a soft huff Jason hopped into the backseat with the others, folding his arms and deliberately not looking at Bruce. Luckily it wasn’t too difficult to do so, for Bruce was quick to climb into the driver’s seat and trigger the cover to close.

“Oracle, send support from the Justice League to make sure Deathstroke is properly detained. I don’t want to hear from him again,” Bruce called through the comms once they were all safely inside the vehicle.

“Copy that. I’ve also rerouted Spoiler to Signal and the others. Orphan will follow up to make sure Deathstroke doesn’t leave before the police get there,” Barbara confirmed, extremely pleased the situation was handled exponentially better than expected. “I’ve also asked her to make sure Hood’s bike gets brought home as well.”

It was appreciated, and Jason gained a small smile before texting her his gratitude.

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HHHHRRGGGH I hope I made it convincing enough for Slade to back off * wheezes * I could not find a good reason in my research, so I just tried something. I kept modifying this part like 4 times. =7=;

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, 

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

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@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown, round 3, bracket three

Propaganda:

For Ballister:

he could tell when his sword was switched out for a fake, graduated top of his class so we know he's a good fighter, also the scene where he's fighting is hot because he's so confident with a sword in his hand, also he's gay

A canonically gay, disabled, South Asian man takes down the government with his genderqueer shapeshifter sidekick/adopted daughter! He has a swordfight with his ex-boyfriend! in which he defeats about 20 knights singlehandedly! 

top of his knight class this man is a master swordsman

(Movie) He has used a sword since he broke into the Institutes training ground and ended up becoming a knight

He has very divorced vibes with Ambrosius and he uses a sword.

He's a legit knight! So, it's in the fine print.

According to the Nimona movie, Ballister here has been practicing the art of sword fighting since childhood to earn the trust of the city and he was SO CLOSE to becoming a knight. He's also definitely not dating another one of his knight mates (?). Nope. Not at all. This movie is super straight /s I think he also beats an entire army of knights with nothing but his sword and a chaotic good shapshifter so that's pretty cool. He's also south Asian, has a prosthetic arm he made himself and is honestly such a goofy guy (in a good way ofc) if that's anything.

For Amaya:

Badass super strong disabled lesbian general who can and will take you out. Doesn't need a sword to punch you into next week, but will use one anyway.

She’s married to another sword gay and she’s also disabled so I love her very much 

First deaf character I saw in any cartoon, she's very badass and protects her kingdom's border, later falls in love with an elf warrior princess she once fought. In the new season, they're planning their wedding while trying to navigate political tensions between the elf society and humans. Some of the elves aren't super into the idea of a human marrying one of them, which isn't for homophobic reasons but still (I believe) meant to mirror real world conservatives (really liked a scene with Janai's brother telling Amaya she's fine as a girlfriend for Janai but actually *marrying* her is too controversial and political. Whoever wrote this did a really good job).

She’s currently engaged to another lady, she uses a sword, is a general badass.

General Amaya is a standard sword lesbian with a cool shield and some funny "lines" example: "This bread is...." *bashes bread on table with no damage to the bread* "Weapons grade"

[adrienneleclerc]

Puppy Love

Paring: Henry Cavill X Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Henry Cavill walking Kal and when Kal runs off, he meets a woman who has a dog that looks just like his…

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: it’s based off the 1996 live action movie of 101 Dalmatians, they’re meet cute was ADORABLE

Henry was at home making breakfast when Kal walked in with his leash in his mouth, wagging his tail.

“What’s the matter, Bear, you want to go for a walk?” Henry asked, serving his breakfast on his plate. Kal barked as a reply. “I’ll eat first, then we’ll go for a walk.”

When Henry finished his breakfast, he pulled out his jacket form the closet and got everything he needed to take Kal on his walk. They left his house and the two were walking all calm until Kal spotted another Akita heading to the dog park with its owner and since halfway through the walk, Henry had Kal off leash (my dad does this with our dog though we tell him not to, Kal RAN to follow this mysterious Akita.

“Kal, come back here!” Henry started chasing after Kal, saying excuse me to everyone, trying to decline people who wanted photos with him as politely as he could.

Y/N was in the dog park with her Akita, Pucca, named after her favorite cartoon. Y/N had set up a picnic blanket since it’s such a beautiful day.

“You wanna play fetch, Pucca?” Y/N asked her dog and she barked as a response. She threw the back and when Pucca came back, Y/N was surprised that Pucca brought a friend who was also an Akita. “Well hello there, peludo.” Y/N began petting the fluffy dog and found his collar. “Hi Kal, where is your owner? Que tipo de persona deja a su perrito solito por aquí? Bueno, do you want a treat? Yeah right, I think you two deserve it.”

Y/N pulled out a bag of treats that she always carries and gave them two small treats each. “Fetch?” Y/N asked and she threw the ball, Pucca ran after it but Kal laid down on the grass, next to Y/N.

“Flojo.” Y/N said jokingly, letting Kal but that’s when she saw a big man try to take Pucca. “The fuck.” Y/N got up.

After getting stopped by a few people, Henry finally spotted his dog.

“There you are Kal! Don’t run off like that again, you are on a tight leash now.” Henry said, attaching the leash to ‘Kals’ collar. “Let’s go” Henry tried to move but the dog wasn’t moving. “I’m not happy right now, Kal, don’t make this difficult.” He reached down to carry the dog until he heard a woman’s voice.

“What are you doing with my dog?!?” The woman shouted.

“Listen miss, this is my dog.” Henry said.

“No she’s not, now put down MY dog before I slap you.” The woman said.

“This is my dog Kal.” Henry said.

“Oh you’re Kal’s owner. Well, that Akita’s name is Pucca.” Pointing to the dog Henry is carrying. “That Akita is Kal.” She said pointing to the Akita on the blanket a few feet away. “Can you put Pucca down now?”

“My apologies.” Henry said, immediately unclipping the leash and leaving Pucca on the ground and Pucca ran to join Kal. “I’m Henry.”

“I’m Y/N. How could you leave Kal unsupervised? What if there were actual dognappers in this park?” Y/N asked him.

“I didn’t leave him unsupervised, he ran off.” Henry asked.

“Well he clearly didn’t have a leash with him so muy responsable no es, verdad?” Y/N said.

“Well our dogs are unsupervised right now, you’re not very responsible either.” Henry said.

“It’s a dog park! As long as your dogs are trained and not reactive, they can roam around. I know most of the people on this park as well so I’m perfectly fine.” Y/N said. Henry and Y/N walked to where her blanket was and sat down so they could keep an eye on their dogs.

“Alright, I’m sorry for almost dognapping Pucca. What kind of name is that, by the way?” Henry asked and Y/N gasped offendedly

“Pucca is the name of an adorable cartoon girl that practices ninjitsu. What about Kal, hm?” Y/N asked.

“Kal is named after Superman, I played Clark Kent so I thought it was fitting.” Henry said.

“You played Clark Kent? Henry Cavill played Clark Kent in the Man of Steel movie.” Y/N said.

“I am Henry Cavill.” Henry said amused by the fact she doesn’t know who he is.

“Let me just Google this, one second. Holy shit, I just yelled at Henry Cavill, I am so sorry for suggesting you are a bad dog owner, I’m sure you’re not.” Y/N apologized and Henry laughed.

“How do you not recognize me?” Henry asked.

“Like I know you by name just not by face.” Y/N said (I admit that was me last year 😂😂)

“You never saw any of my movies?” Henry asked.

“Nope, should I watch your movies?” Y/N asked.

“Only if you want.” Henry replied and he looks at Kal playing with Pucca. “They see, to really like each other.”

“Well there aren’t many Akita owners, they aren’t for everyone.” Y/N commented.

“Since they get along really well, we should keep in touch.” Henry said, looking at Y/N.

“Are you trying to get my number, Superman?” Y/N asked.

“Yes I am. That way I could I also make it up to you.” Henry said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, you already apologized.” Y/N said

“Well i still want to go on a date with the woman who was willing to slap me for her dog.” Henry said.

“I would have done worse too if i didn’t think you could beat my ass.” Y/N said and Henry chuckled.

“I would never lay a hand on a woman. So where would you like to eat?” Henry asked and Y/N giggled.

“Okay, coqueto, are all Hollywood actors this forward or just the British ones?” Y/N asked.

“Actually I think it’s just me.” Henry said and winked at the end of his sentence.

“In that case, i obviously like Latin food, but an Italian place would be good. Vámonos, Pucca!” Y/N yelled and Pucca moved her head and ran to Y/N to sit by her feet. Y/N told Henry to get up so she could fold the blanket.

“You wouldn’t leave without giving me your number, would you?” Henry asked.

“Give me your phone, coqueto.” Y/N said and Henry did just that. “There’s my number, call me whenever you want to set up a playdate or just a date. It was nice meeting you and Kal.” Y/N said and left with Pucca but stopped to pet Kal one more time before leaving the park completely.

“What do you think, Bear? Do we have a chance?” Henry asked and Kal barked, wagging his tail. “I thought so, let’s go home.”

The End

I think depending on the plot, Henry Cavill’s nicknames are going to be different

@warriormirkwood

[where-the-water-flows]

hey no wait. hang on, wait. wenjing is like, explicitly the secret sword, right, the one basically no one knew about, it's part of the reason the court is like 'mmk seems legit' when fang doubing is like ~I am totally for real his disciple~ because he knows about the sword at all

but li xiangyi/lianhua is clearly like. practiced at using the sword, which does not move like basically...any other weapon. that man has spent a fuck lot of time training to and straight up developing how to use a sword that is basically the most unswordlike sword to ever sword. that sword is like a slap bracelet with bladed edges that can also cut through....anything? nearly anything?? it does not move or react like your standard mostly rigid bar of folded metal sword, is the gist here.

which brings me to two, semi-related, points:

when saintess rocks up to steal di feisheng from the zombie cave and also is like 'I'm going to kill you uh actually lol nope fuck that I'm outtie peace bitches', is that literally the first time she's even got a hint that li xiangyi/lianhua has a sword that is basically nigh impossible to block because it can straight up bend around obstacles? (obstacles such as, say, anyone else's sword) if yes, no fucking wonder she's like mmmm I see no thank you I need to go wash my di feisheng's hair, so busy, catch you later because like. how the fuck do you even deal with that. a guy who should have been horribly and messily dead literally a decade ago rocks up and is like 'I lived bitch! also surprise, I have a sword made of glowing Go-Fuck-Yourself metal', like, I too would fucking split! you would only be able to find me by the cartoon dust cloud left in my wake. RIP to everyone else in the jianghu but saintess is making the objectively correct choice here, which is wild because, like. saintess.

how many people's last fucking moment was seeing throat cutter, probably glowing and covered in their blood? because like. Li xiangyi clearly used it! enough to be good at using it. enough to know that it glows blue when there's blood on it, even if he apparently was just like sometimes swords just glow for reasons I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. so. if no one outside of sigu sect high command knows that wenjing exists*, that means everyone else who ever saw that sword -- which there has to have been people, given that li xiangyi was out there uhhh using it -- those people who saw it presumably also uh. died. in a pretty confirmed kinda way. likely via....that sword. throat cutter** indeed

*and not even all of the inner sigu sect command folks knew about li xiangyi having it! they're pretty explicit that five people total know about the sword, which is the four court heads, and then presumably either qiao wanmian or xiao zijin, but not both of them (which, lmao, what the hell were sigu sect internal politics for real), and even that's if we assume shan gudao is not being included in the count because he's "dead"

**yes I know it's a reference to a friendship/relationship you'd cut your throat for per @murderedbyhomework's recent great meta, but also, like. it's still a cut throat, y'know? words can have multiple meanings, and also this is mostly a pun on the name. the rest of the post stands as is tho.

[churino]

Design for beta maxx (beta from the g1 cartoon episode, forever is a long time coming)

A slave turned rebelion leader, she trains her mind and body so that even in her old age she can still benefit from the effects of an autobadge unlike her conjux alpha trion

Beta was born a slave under functionism, unlike alpha trion who came about spontaneously, beta was deliberately made with a function in mind, she was a novelty key to a storage closet attached to a rockasaur fossil, as if to point at the insignificance of non transformers by the functionists, although her overlords attempted to limit the flow of information she would learn of the growing resementment towards that vision of society, and would gather with the earliest rebelion leaders, eventually joining them in battle, retaining her alt mode as a symbol of a new world where anyone regardless of origin could live free

For much of their history she was one of many figure heads for the autobots, staying politically active even as her body slowed down, unlike alpha trion who has trepadations about what the autobots have become after the death of cybertron, Beta welcomes and encorages the self sacrificial tendencies they've developed, beliving this is the only way to make sure the new generations never abuse their power or opress others like the old ones did. not realizing they're running out of things to give,

She's so entrenched in autobot culture that her body is a key to a secret chamber inside the autobot ark, housing the colected knowledge of all autobot leaders, and where the true leader of the autobots lies, star saber.

[thecoolblackwaves]

Family Of Nerds: Feanorian Modern AU

(I’m sorry this is somewhat Americanized I just don’t have enough knowledge about anywhere else to make those allusions) (Also please reblog with your own headcanons or other thoughts!)

Feanor 

Philologist; studies language history

Often assists at various museums, colleges, archeological sites, etc

Has published several books and given many lectures 

Creates his own languages like Tengwar for fun, also is a hobby blacksmith

Teaches his children many archaic languages no one else speaks and takes his family on "educational" vacations 

Also attends every convention known to man, even ones that have seemingly nothing to do with his own interests, dressed to the nines and spends his time there signing books and debating other people 

Loves his wife just as madly as the day he met her and is ecstatic he married his high school sweetheart

Idolizes his father. Would have done great following his political career if he hadn't "ruined" his public image by becoming a teen parent, ultimately feels he's made the right decisions for his life though and is happy with his work

Rivalry with Fingolfin over who can host the best dinner party (and you best believe he wears smart-ass punny aprons while cooking a six course meal for his guests)

Nerdanel 

Professional sculptor and multimedia artist

Teaches classes at an arts college 

Is known to eat the fruit out of the bowls her students are sketching when no one is looking

Cannot cook to save her life 

Enthusiastically attends every possible event in her family’s calendar no matter the weather or lack of skill at a toddler dance recital 

Dresses in a fabulously bohemian eccentric artist way; stole the show when she attended the Grammys with Makalaure and has been featured in several fashion magazines 

Carries all sorts of art supplies and seemingly random tools in her purse at all times, including a chisel, googly eyes, edible glitter, a bajillion hair ties, DW40, and peanut M&Ms

Has a calm, wise disposition that belies her truly chaotic nature

Often looked to for advice from her students and children and will only pull your leg when she thinks you’re being stupid 

Does give genuinely good advice though, mostly because she is uncanny in her ability to read people and observe subtle hints 

Maitimo

Studied communications, currently working as his father’s apprentice but hopes to find a position as a public relations specialist 

Uses his intimidating stature and loud, deep voice to his advantage as needed

Was born while his parents were teenagers and still living with their families, he remembers watching cartoons with Grandpa Finwe and being babysat by his uncles 

Also attended his mother’s graduation from art school as a small child and clapped until his little hands hurt 

Is painfully aware of how all his younger brothers look up to him - literally - and sometimes struggles with the pressures of setting a good example, though he does much better than he realizes 

Drinks his coffee from a mug that reads “don’t make this ginger snap” (Nerdanel has a matching one)

The gayest gay to ever gay, informs everyone of this via cheesy tee shirts gifted from his brothers and cousins 

Drives a minivan, claims he chose it because it was the only car that would fit his legs and not because he can haul his brothers around in it 

Frequently complains about missing the technology of his childhood but resents being called a millennial 

Makalaure 

Grammy award winning artist and composer

Created the score for a recent movie that bloomed his popularity and brought him to the limelight 

Has a Youtube channel with several music videos he definitely didn’t blackmail his family into filming with him 

Also performed on Broadway once and will not let you forget it 

Used to skip school to busk in the train station and once caught his math teacher also skipping school 

Extremely popular with interviewers, camera crew, and other industry specialists for his kindness and crazy stories about his family 

Donates large amounts of his royalties to children’s hospitals and other charities 

Used to hog the bathroom in the mornings to put on makeup and style his hair 

Practices Beyonce dance routines in the mirror, has convinced Curufin to do them with him before 

Spent a semester studying in Sydney, Australia and fainted after encountering a large spider in his dorm room 

Tyelkormo

Forest ranger at a National Park 

Works at outdoor summer camps every year, all the children love him and his giant fluffy dog

Also volunteers at animal shelters and the wildlife rehabilitation center at the National Park 

Creatine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; drinks so much milk Nerdanel used to tell him it was why his hair was white 

Wakes up at 5 in the morning to exercise (disgusting)

Got a long bow for Christmas one year (the note said Santa but he knows it was his mom) and practices in the backyard by shooting at Amrod’s pumpkins 

Metalhead, particularly likes viking metal and Nordic black metal 

Made Huan his own battle vest complete with dog-themed patches such as “Bad to the Bone” and “No Leashes No Masters” 

Tells the most terrible jokes you’ve ever heard then laughs like a seagull vomiting up a stolen bag of Doritos 

Extremely loyal to his family, sometimes to a fault 

Carnistar

Professional business accountant 

Also does taxes as a side hustle because “it’s so easy” 

Is obsessed with Oreos but will not admit it because of his brother's teasing about "Moryo's Oreos" 

Obligatory family goth and not ashamed of it 

Started mending his hand-me-down clothes as a necessity and got into sewing, now makes fantastic garments for his family and friends to wear 

Halloween is the only valid holiday, he spends the entire year making his costume (it’s usually a vampire or some fandom character)

Stays up until 3am gaming on a PC he and Feanor built together one summer, favorite game is currently Balder’s Gate 

Had to take speech therapy as a child and later some anger management classes.... because he got too good at expressing himself

Curufin

Silversmith and jewelry maker 

Specializes in accessories for ballet dancers and other performers 

Ballet dancer since he was young, never succeeded with a professional career but still practices daily and chose his specialty to remain part of the scene 

Holds a serious grudge against certain critics that failed his entry to ballet academy (will not sell his products to them or their schools)

Always looking for new business opportunities, not always in the most honest of ways 

Struggles with self esteem issues 

Has several cats and claims they betray him when they snuggle with Huan but secretly finds it adorable 

Frequently collaborates with Caranthir to make elaborate costumes just for the fun of it 

Made a tiara for his favorite cat, Princess Paws

Would sleep until four in the afternoon if you let him (or if Princess Paws didn’t wake him up screaming for food)

Amrod

Gardening Club President at his school 

Started a trade and barter farmers market after school to reduce waste and share the bounty of his and fellow club member’s gardens 

Frequently tries to convince his parents to turn their property into a “self sufficient homestead”, leaves pamphlets and pictures of adorable baby animals lying around the house 

Enlisted the help of his twin and Maitimo to build a chicken coop, forgot to ask Feanor’s permission first 

Demands payment in the form of fresh caught fish or deer jerky for the use of his gourds in Tyelko’s target practice 

Has definitely switched places with Amros to escape trouble or science tests 

Often neglects his homework for pursuits he feels are more important, will only do it without complaint when Carnistar tells him to 

Had eyes for the cool-looking red glow on the stove as a child and was banned from the kitchen for most of his adolescence 

Is generally a persistent and stubborn person (wonder where he got it from)

Amros 

Amateur photographer with an instagram following nearing one million 

Account consists of 95% nature photography and 5% “The Adventures of Huan and Princess Paws” as he follows them around the back yard 

Takes all of Makalaure’s headshots and creates his album covers, also photographs Curufin’s jewelry to upload to his retail website 

“Borrows” Carnistar’s prized PC to upload and edit his photos 

Conspired with Amrod to convince their elementary school classmates they were secretly Fred and George Weasley disguised as Muggles, ultimately failed because someone thought their accents “just sounded like they were copying Peppa Pig”

Still pulls out his British accent on occasion when someone needs cheering up 

Inherited Nerdanel’s keen observation skills, mostly uses them to blackmail his brothers into doing his chores 

But also gives the most amazing presents because he knows exactly what everyone truly wants 

[superiorsturgeon]

Domestic Arkos Role Reversal

Pyrrha: *distressed, reading the mail* Oh, no! I lost another sponsorship! And just when huntress jobs are running short, too!

Jaune: *wraps Pyrrha in a hug* Darn, that’s too bad. I guess I can go back to my old job being a crossing guard to make ends meet and you can stay home with Jamie for now?

Pyrrha: I suppose it would be nice to spend time at home with our son…

Pyrrha: Okay, let’s do it!

———————————————————————

Jaune: *heading out the door* Love you both! Be good for your mom, Jamie! Remember to call me if you need help, okay?

Pyrrha: Don’t worry so much! Hurry up or you’ll be late!

Pyrrha: Well, it looks like it’s just you and your mother today, right sweetheart? *looks down at Arkos son*

Jamie: *already has gum in his hair* 😀

Pyrrha: 🤦‍♀️…this day is not off to a good start…

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *struggling with pot roast recipe and slow cooker instructions* Wait, is “warm” a higher or lower heat than “low?”

*Smoke alarm goes off*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *steps on lego while playing with Jamie*

Pyrrha: 😫 FU-

Jamie: 🙂 ?

Pyrrha: *clamps a hand over her mouth and muffles her agonized scream*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *pushing grocery cart and reading shopping list*

Pyrrha: How can two adults and a five-year-old need seven pages of groceries?

Pyrrha: And what on Remnant is tarragon?!

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *removes laundry from dryer*

Pyrrha: *holds up shrunken shirt* 😟

Pyrrha: …Jamie, sweetie, how would you like one of your father’s old shirts?

Jamie: 🙃

———————————————————————

Jamie: *running around happily with the other children at the park*

Pyrrha: *slumps on a bench* Ugh…how can one little boy have so much energy…? 😮‍💨

Pyrrha: Maybe I can just rest here for a minute…

Pyrrha: 😴

Random Mother: …excuse me? Miss? Isn’t that your son?

Pyrrha: *cracks open one eye* …bwuh…?

Jamie: *on top of jungle gym, losing his balance*

Jamie: 🫨

Pyrrha: 😱

Pyrrha: *launches herself off the bench into a diving catch*

Pyrrha: *heart hammering* Are you okay?!

Jamie: 🥺 *small nod*

Pyrrha: *flops on the ground clutching her son*

———————————————————————

Pyrrha: *holding napping Jamie on her shoulder during PTA meeting*

Jamie: 😪 *drools a bit on Pyrrha’s shirt*

Pyrrha: I’ve never been so bored in my life…🥱

———————————————————————

Jaune: *opens door to Arkos house* Hello! I’m home!

Jamie: Daddy! *runs to the door*

Jaune: Hey, there’s my little guy! *scoops up his son as he walks inside* How was your day with mommy?

Jamie: We went to the park! Mommy’s sleepy though!

Pyrrha: *passed out on the couch with disheveled hair, stains on her shirt, and a pile of half-opened bills on her lap as her son’s favorite cartoon plays on the tv* 😴

Jaune: *bends down and gently shakes Pyrrha’s shoulder* Pyr? How are you doing?

Pyrrha: *snorts and jerks awake* What? Huh? Jamie, be careful with that-!

Pyrrha: Oh, Jaune…! Welcome home! How was work? 🥱

Jaune: *adjusts Jamie in his arms* Just like I remembered! Helping kids cross the street, politely telling some of the moms that I’m very taken! 😁

Pyrrha: *exhausted pout* I’m much too tired for jokes, Jaune…😣

Jaune: Okay, okay! Let me put my stuff away and we’ll see about dinner!

Jamie: Pizza? 😃

Jaune: *looks at the stack of dishes in the kitchen with burnt-on food* …yeah, sure little guy! Go wash your hands and daddy will order pizza.

Jamie: 😄 *happily runs to the bathroom*

Pyrrha: *slowly gets up and walks face-first into Jaune’s shoulder* …how do you do it…? I’ve trained for the arena for years and fought Grimm bigger than our house, but I’m so tired after one day at home with my own son…! 😭

Jaune: *wraps Pyrrha in a hug* Don’t worry, Pyr! It just takes some practice! Besides, it’s only until you get another huntress job and get back to being a hero!

Pyrrha: *mumbles into Jaune’s chest* …If you can do this every day while I’m at work, you’re the REAL hero…!

Jaune: Hey, I’m just the loving house husband of Pyrrha Freaking Nikos! I’m sure everyone will be calling you “The Invincible Mom” within the week!

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: …Pyr…?

Pyrrha: *asleep against Jaune* 😴

Jaune: *scoops up exhausted Pyrrha*

Jaune: …she has gum in her hair…

[spxdxrpxnk]

PAVITR loves you with everything he has, and he knew you loved him just the same.

and.. and that's something he actually kinda hates- even though he'd never, ever say that out loud.

( notes: this is written by a minor, so nsfw/18+/'minors dni' blogs please do not interact with this post! thank you!

this went from a paragraph to 2k words. i am in love with pavitr prabhakar. reblog )

he loved you so much that you were the first person he revealed his secret identity to! ... or- or built that identity with, rather? seeing as he came to you when he first started experiencing spider powers.

peace and quiet was never really a thing when it came to your relationship with PAVITR.

his bright smile and seemingly endless energy was contagious, so you two often got into the craziest of shenanigans when he'd look at you with that glint in his eye and that smile on his face.

you felt like you were ready for anything pav could throw at you.

... but you really weren't ready for things to be sticking to him rather than being thrown at you.

you heard him when he came into your house, heard his polite yet rushed greetings to your parents before he burst into your room like a madman. there was a piece of paper stuck to one of his hands. he looked like he'd just finished a marathon, or just barely escaped a pack of angry dogs, all flushed and panting heavily.

and considering he lived a considerable distance from you but always chose to walk instead of taking public transportation, you didn't doubt he actually ran the whole way.

before you could even get a word out, PAVITR was frantically calling your name, closing your door and locking it and holding out his paper covered hand. you got a peek of it before he started pacing frantically, and saw that it was an essay for the physics class you both shared.

an essay for physics sounds crazy, and.. well, it is, but PAVITR wanted extra credit to ensure a big fat A+ for the class by the end of the semester.

ever the overachiever.

"what do i do, what do i do-" he questioned frantically, shaking his paper covered hand as if it was burned in an attempt to get his essay off. "you see this!!" PAVITR shouted as he stopped pacing and turned to you, showing you his hand again.

you only nodded, pure confusion on your face, before he started pacing again.

"it's finished, all of it, but it won't come off my hand-"

"pav-" you tried to get a word in, trying to think of a question that could clarify any of that, but you were rendered speechless before you could even finish his name.

you watched, in pure awe, as he just.. started walking up your bedroom wall, and began pacing like that.

he'd make it halfway up the wall, frantically mumbling about how he "can't pull it or i'll rip the paper and it's due tomorrow- literally tomorrow morning!!!- and i- she won't give me an extension and-", before he turned and returned to the floor as if it was nothing.

"pav!" you called a little louder, and PAVITR actually froze in his tracks while standing on your wall, like a cartoon character. he had to lift his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowed with a frustrated pout on his face.

"what??" he asked you, as if you were the one bugging him, when he was getting footprints! all on your wall!!!

and you? you loved him so much that you always worried for him whenever he had to put on the mask to go fight crime, save lives, and put himself in danger to keep the random citizens of mumbattan safe. even kiss a baby or two, when he could be kissing you instead and not some stinky baby, if the day called for it.

and maybe, just maybe, you were a little selfish. but you did have his best interest at heart, and that's what counts.

you always told him to come to you if he had big injuries he couldn't tend to on his own.

you weren't a certified professional, or even studying medicine like that, but.. who needs professional training when you have youtube and a few stolen practice materials from school?

when PAVITR came to you one day with a pretty deep cut on his arm, you were so mad. it was the first time he'd ever seen you so upset at him, and he didn't know what else to do besides apologize. but you were quick to shush him.

"i'm not mad at you, pavi," you said. but the furrow in your eyebrow, the frustration in your voice, and the way you pulled the gauze a little too tight didn't help ease him at all. "i'm mad at the.. the assholes that think it's okay for them for hurt a teenage boy!"

"... everyone thinks i'm over twenty, if that makes it any better...?"

the deadpan look you gave told him 'no, that didn't make it any better.'

"i know you have to be the big tough spidey and keep all the bad guys away, but it sucks seeing you get hurt for people who probably wouldn't even do the same for you. for a bunch of.." you struggled to find the word, pausing with the gauze pulled taut between the blades of the medical scissors from the first aid kit you bought specially for him.

PAVITR really wanted to rub the wrinkle between your brows away, kiss that pout off your lips until you were smiling and giggling, but he loved seeing you like this even more.

when you couldn't think of a word during your passionate rants, you always came up with something so good-

"NPCs!"

'snrk- sounds about right.'

"and you, honey." he reminded you gently, watching as your expression softened with just those three words. you sucked your teeth as the scissors snipped!, severing the gauze around his arm from the very skinny roll in your hand.

and PAVITR knew he got you with that.

he knew, because you always sucked your teeth or scoffed, and then started messing with something to give yourself an excuse to look away from him whenever you got flustered.

you gently tucked the loose strand into the wrapped gauze, patting his now-properly-taken-care-of arm like it was a shiny new car.

he almost, almost complained that you were missing something, before you kissed your palm and softly patted your hand on his cheek in the way that made him giggle and flush a little, because it was so dumb.

and PAVITR loves you for caring about him so much, he really does, but hates how much you do. and that actually makes a ton of sense, if you think about it.

because, well, he loves having you dote and fawn over him; gently reprimanding him for being reckless and getting more hurt than he needed to. you'd press little kisses on his cheek, which would be bruising from a hit he probably could have dodged, to distract him from the uncomfortable sting of the warm, soapy water you were using to clean an open wound.

but he hates that you care so, so much, that you'd run head first into danger for him.

you, who didn't have the super cool spider powers like he did.

you, without the agility, or the heightened senses, or the quick healing.

normal, average you.

you would risk your life for him, just because you didn't like seeing him hurt, even though he'd heal fully within the week while it'd take you months.

he really wasn't paying as much attention as he should have at that moment, PAVITR admits that much.

stopping a gang of armed men from robbing a bank should have had his full attention, but you were there at the time.

he was walking you home when you heard all the commotion from across the street, and you rolled your eyes with a huff before pushing him into an alleyway so that he could change into his spidey suit.

he wanted to show you how effortless it was for him to fight crime and come out unscathed.

so that maybe, just maybe, you'd stop worrying.

he'd disarmed the guys early into the fight, but they were a pretty slippery bunch. PAVITR got most of them webbed to a wall for the police to handle later, which he thought was all of them, and was ready to swing off to change.

but he was still pretty new to being spiderman, and his spidey sense sometimes lacked.

he wouldn't have sensed the guy running at him full force with a bat until it was too late.

you noticed, though.

and you weren't the smartest either here, sure, whatever. yeling at him to watch out, to turn around- almost anything else would have been better than what you did.

which was running at the guy, tackling him to the ground before he could swing the bat.

you had the spirit, you really did.

it took your very surprised boyfriend with his spidey strength and a few other random bystanders to pull you off.

you were really holding your own, just.. wailing on the guy that tried to attack him. wild fists, some harsh kicks to very sensitive areas thrown in there. even a full force headbutt that left the dude with a bloody, probably broken nose and you with a slight headache.

of course, you didn't come out unscathed, and PAVITR wasn't too happy.

thankfully, he can never stay mad at you for too long.

and yeah, he hates when you get hurt because of how much you care for him, sure- but he'll never get tired of the moments you share after.

"to be fair," you'd started, sitting on his bed with him standing in between your thighs as he placed some very soothing healing cream on your bruises.

he was quiet the whole way to his house, and quiet when he pulled out his own first aid kit ( which was way smaller than yours, by the way ). "he would have gotten you right in the head if it weren't for me. i saved you from possible brain damage, don't i get a thank you?"

and man, if looks could kill…

you'd probably be fine, because PAVITR could never bring himself to glare at you with everything he's got.

no, he loves you too much.

instead of the angered, fiery look he attempts, he gives you a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. "thank you for saving me from possible brain damage. my hero." he replies sarcastically, a pout evident in his voice as he applies the last of the cream and closes the tube, tossing it aside to cross his arms at you. "but i really don't appreciate you getting hurt in the process."

you didn't reply immediately, instead staring at him with an overly smug expression that he pointedly avoided, furrowing his eyebrows. before you could open your mouth to say the four words that would stop PAVITR's entire argument before he even started, he basically said it for you.

"i sound like you." he stated defeatedly, which made you laugh at how ironic it was.

PAVITR sighed heavily, head dropping to rest on your chest. you brought up your arm to pat his back. "now you know how i feel." you told him with a mocking voice, which he gave a muffled whine to since his face was buried in your chest. you laughed again, leaning your head down to press a kiss to his pretty head.

"please never do that again." he mumbled, pure sadness in his voice, and you think you can hear your heart break a little. you smile fondly, rubbing circles on his back.

"no promises, sunshine. spiderman has to get saved once in a while, so that his ego doesn't inflate too much."

PAVITR lifts his head to narrow his eyes at you, trying and failing to hold back a smile at the cheeky look on your face. "i'm being serious."

"i am too! i'm telling you, that guy has such a big head, it's a wonder how he gets that headband around it!" you'd tease him, giggling happily and reflexively shrinking away from him when he places his fingers on your waist.

you lifted your hands, one of them wrapped snug with the last of his soft cotton gauze since you kinda grabbed the guy's fist when he tried to swing on you- like the total badass you were. nothing was broken or fractured or out of place, but it did hurt like hell. neither of you knew what to do besides wrap it and hope the gauze inflicted a healing aura or something.

thankfully, your always honest boyfriend said you looked so cool when you did, which makes you think it was worth it.

"i love seeing this pretty face when it's not all bruised up- even though you're handsome either way." you tell him, tone all mushy-gushy and baby-ish the way it is when you're genuinely complimenting him but playing it off as a joke, a gentle smile on your face as you kiss his nose.

PAVITR smiles along with you, bright and happy and a total contrast from the tragic kicked puppy look he just had.

this was a pretty typical situation for you both, only the roles would be reversed: you'd be reprimanding him for getting hurt while he cracks jokes and flirts with you until you lighten up. and he's all flustered now, since he's always weak for your compliments.

he knows he has a point, the way you always do, and an entire heartfelt rant about how he's a superhero and you're not and you have to stay out of harm's way was right on the tip of his tongue.

but with his flushed cheeks and dopey smile, he decides to hold it off.

instead, PAVITR just pulls you close ever so carefully so that he doesn't strain any of your injuries further, nuzzling his nose to yours in a little bunny kiss before properly kissing you on the lips ever so softly.

and if he tasted a little blood from the benign split in your lip, he didn't say anything.

[vettelsdarling]

I’m so in love with Max Verstappen lol can u write a one shot but where he isn’t a driver and both the reader and max are just normal people? Can you also make it a smut >_<

𝑺𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏

➪Ask and you shall receive ;)

➪I chose to base this off an interaction I’ve had irl, that I thought was pretty writable lol (most is fiction!)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (Minors dni) smut, swearing

Word Count: 3.5k+

You were visiting The Netherlands for a couple of weeks because you had a job there. You were a talented journalist from Vogue, but only one of many other writers. To show your boss that you had more potential than she thought, you decided to do a revolutionary piece on Amsterdam. You decided, one night, that you wanted some wine whilst writing your intro. There was a small and modest liquor store close to your hotel, so you didn’t have to worry about public transportation. It was nearing the evening and the sun was starting to set, which meant you had to pick up the pace if you wanted to make it in time.

When you got to the store, you found that you were the only one there. There was no cashier or worker in sight, but the store was open. Browsing the different aged wines had you feeling like you had taken the high road. Old money style. You were in your own little world, taking pictures of the different bottles and even holding out a peace sign in front of one of them and snapping a picture. After a while, you noticed a song come on the speakers. It was something you recognized from your earlier years in college when you went out partying constantly. The song had been popular back then, and the nostalgia hit you like a freight train. You already had your phone out, and you knew it’d be impossible to sleep without knowing the name of the song, so you held up your phone to one of the speakers and turned on your Shazam app. It kept loading and failing and loading and failing.

“I see that you like the song,” a voice said. It was smooth and had a thick Dutch accent. A hint of a smirk was mixed into it as well. Upon retracting your arm and turning to face the voice, you found the shop clerk staring you down with what could’ve been the most jaw-dropping smirks of the century. He was a sight for sore eyes. That was for sure. You buried your face in your hands out of embarrassment, as he’d caught you trying to Shazam a song on the speakers.

“If you must know, that song is… Slow Down, by Chase Atlantic.” Trying to save face and not look like a cartoon character, you removed your hands from your face and politely thanked him.

“Thanks, I should get going now, though. I have a train to catch in the morning.” That was a lie. All you had to do the following morning was report to your boss about current developments.

“That’s a shame, I could’ve prepared a special tasting for a gorgeous lady like you.” An immediate blush spread across your face. The effect he had on you was obvious and it only fueled his ego and confidence.

“I suppose a tasting wouldn’t hurt.” You looked down at your wrist as if to check the time. The man kept looking at you with his mesmerizing eyes and deep gaze. You knew damn well it could’ve been your own delusions. That he may have tried to merely act friendly or treat the last customer of the night real nice. It was impossible to say for sure. You had been in one too many situations where you'd accidentally misread a situation.

“You look deep in thought, darling. Relax and come with me to the back. That’s where I keep the best wine.” You could hear your own thoughts screaming at you to do something. Darling? That was something you’d only ever read in romance books. Was he even real?

“So, what’s your name?” He asked as he browsed his gallery of fine wines. You hesitantly told him your name and saw his face light up with a tiny smirk,

“That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s Max. Max Verstappen.” You took a mental note of his name in case you weren’t going to get his number later in the evening.

“So what brings you to Amsterdam?” His genuine curiosity made him that much more attractive. You couldn’t tell whether to cry tears of joy or run away from such a foreign feeling of delight.

“I’m a journalist or writer. Whichever name suits the piece I work on. I’m just here to do a review of my time here. It’s supposed to act as a travel ad, I guess.” He nodded, smiled, and pulled out a bottle he fancied.

“Sounds like quite the job, do you enjoy it?” He poured you a glass and also a glass for himself. A whole glass? Here you thought it was going to be a simple tasting.

“Oh uhh, yeah, I’ve loved writing since I was young. I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing.” Reminiscing about your younger self showing off your short stories to your older siblings and family members had you smiling like a fool. Max, being observant, picked up on it and took a mental picture of your smile. He’d never seen anyone as radiant as you.

“How’d you get into the wine business, if I may ask?” You watched him contemplate for a brief moment, before eventually telling you about his family and his legacy.

“So, yeah, here I am taking over my father’s business. He does most night shifts, but he had some errands to run this evening… so you’re stuck with me.” Was the liquid courage already going to your head, or were you really just that bold? You decided to look him directly in the eyes as you told him,

“I’m glad I decided to come tonight of all nights, then.” Your head was swimming in some newfound confidence. Perhaps Max had rubbed it off on you.

“Sure you are,” he chuckled and poured himself another glass. You weren’t a lightweight, and he didn’t seem to be one either, so you asked him to pour you another glass as well.

“I should probably go after this round. I have to do something tomorrow morning.” You chugged the last of your wine and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Yeah, heard you before. You have to catch a train, huh?” You just nodded to not seem suspicious and began walking towards the exit.

Before you had the chance to though, Max grabbed your arm and turned you around. His face was etched with confusion, not even understanding his own actions. The two of you stood there for a short while before he slowly let go.

“Sorry, I- um. I don’t know why I did that.” Your teeth subconsciously tugged at your lower lip and you gulped before taking a leap of faith.

“Wanna see my place? It’s just a hotel room, but the view is wonderful,” you broke the unnerving silence. Max took every word in and ultimately responded with,

“No, I think you should see my place instead.” Your boldness was met with twice as much boldness coming from him. You found it hard to breathe, let alone think. He started turning the lights off in the shop and clearing a few bottles that had been on display.

“I’ll lock up and then we can go. I’m sure my view is better than yours in more than just one way.” His smirk as those words left his mouth was smooth. Not just smooth— it was unreal. You were desperate for more.

You waited for him to finish up and when the two of you finally got out, and you heard the clank of his keys— he made you lock your arms around his arm. With that, you enjoyed the night sky and the dimmed street lamps. You took in the fresh air; a stark contrast to the New York air you were so used to. Max mostly stayed quiet, but he’d quip a fun fact about his country here and there when walking past the few sculptures that adorned the streets of Amsterdam.

“I’m starting to think you don’t even live in Amsterdam. We’ve been walking for at least an hour now,” you chuckled. Just as if your words were magic, he stopped walking and motioned for you to look up. There you saw a gorgeous penthouse. You never would’ve thought he’d live so luxuriously.

“Wait, that’s your place?” Your eyes were wide open. A small grin crept up his face and he shook his head,

“No, I’m just kidding. My place isn’t that fancy. I’m barely able to pay rent. It’s a day-to-day thing.” His living situation was surprisingly similar to yours. Most apartments in New York were too expensive to rent out, so you lived in a modest, but cosy apartment with your personality plastered all over. The rent was cheap and you had excess money to spend on personal indulgences.

“Actually, me too. Some would say I live like a peasant,” you joked.

“Great, we’ll be poor together,” he finished. The two of you had a quick laugh about your financial situations before you finally arrived at his place. It was a bit bigger than your own and had 3 rooms total. He showed you around his small flat, starting with the kitchen which connected to the living room. Then he showed you the bathroom, which had a rich lavender scent. He explained that his sister frequently gave him different essential oils and thymes and air fresheners that she’d find whilst travelling. He never knew what else to do with them but make his bathroom smell like a fairytale garden. He was getting closer and closer to being the greenest of flags you’d ever encountered. He showed you to his office which was the smallest room in the entire apartment, fitting only him. There was a tiny space for him to squeeze through and get to his chair.

Then the time came to see his bedroom. The state of people’s houses was one thing, but a bedroom could tell you everything you’d need to know about a person’s personality. It was where they would spend most of their intimate moments. Max’s room was simple. Simple yet stunning. He had a few family portraits on his shelf and a bookshelf you could only dream of having. On a small drawer, he had a TV with a remote next to it. His bed was queen-sized and the pillows were almost bigger than the headboard. The sheets were pearl-white and silk. Just above the headboard was a painting. It was a copy of The Fallen Angel. You recognized it from the required fine arts classes you took in college. It was a gorgeous painting that made the mind go around in circles.

“Yeah, that painting was a gift from my father. It’s a little out of place here but I didn’t know what else to do with it.” Max scratched the back of his neck and leaned against the doorframe.

“I love your place. It’s certainly nicer than my own. I haven’t had much luck with decorating like you. I mostly just have cheap and simplistic stuff from IKEA, if I’m being honest.” You sighed and sat down on his bed. The duvet hugged your hips as your body weighed down on the bed. Max went to sit beside you and decided to let himself fall back. You followed suit.

“IKEA isn’t bad at all. I like simplicity. Who doesn’t?”

“I don’t know, I guess it isn’t really all that bad.” You could feel your heart rate increasing as you heard Max shuffle. It could only mean one thing; he’d turned his head to face you. Frozen. You were completely frozen. You wanted to do the same, but for whatever reason— you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Any courage you had earlier was gone. Nowhere to be found.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” That’s what made you turn. You saw the curious look in his eyes and the genuine tug on his lips. You weren’t one to have one-night stands or sleep around, but you felt a certain pull. A pull that you found hard to resist. Max was magnetic and your body wanted nothing more than to be glued to him.

After you didn’t say anything, he moved closer to you and moved a strand of hair out of your face. His touch sent shivers down your spine. You felt an electrical current run through your entire body, coupled with a warm feeling starting to pool in your lower abdomen. The silence only seemed to pull the two of you closer, but it was obvious Max had more guts than you.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” you muttered. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You definitely did.

“Wait, you’re a virgin?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that. I’ve just never really been into hooking up with strangers,” you explained. He almost laughed at that.

“We don’t need to be strangers, darling. This is just the beginning.” There was something about the way he said it, that had your mind running wild. At the same time, though, you didn’t want to come off as desperate. So you waited for him to strike his next move.

Luckily, good things come to those who wait. He leaned in for a kiss that moulded into a more heated one. With more and more time passing by, it only got wilder. He switched your positions so that he was on top. Your fingers were intertwined with his blonde strands of hair. There was nothing left to do but start pulling at his shirt. He took it as a sign to pull away and rid himself of the article of clothing. After he threw it into a corner, he took that opportunity to admire the sight below him. There you were; sprawled out beneath him with rosy cheeks and lips that were swollen from all the kissing. Your half-lidded eyes looked up at him and he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear before he dove back down to then attack your neck. It didn’t take him long to find your sweet spot. Once he found it, the whimpers flooding from your mouth egged him on. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt and instead of pulling it over your head, he ripped it off you.

“Hey, my shirt!”

“You can have one of mine instead. I bet they suit you better than they do me,” he whispered in your ear. His breath was hot against your ear. You didn’t actually mind the ripped shirt. It was a Walmart shirt that you got from a buy 1 get 1 sale. You weren’t wearing lace, but you thanked your earlier self for deciding to wear matching underwear.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to completely discard all of your clothes. Max struggled with the clasp of your bra, which you took over and got off. In his eyes, everything was perfect. There’s no such thing as a perfect being; he knew that, but there you were. Beyond perfect. He relished in his victory.

“Can you do me a favour and be as loud as you can for me?” You saw the look on Max’s face and he slowly started kissing down your body. You felt each suck going further and further down. Dangerously close to your cunt. With each gasp you made, the Dutchman gave your hips a squeeze. It was as if getting you off was enough for him. You finally felt his tongue graze your slit and your hips bucked in appreciation. Better yet, he wasn’t a tease about it. He went straight into it, sucking and moving his tongue in ways that made you scream his name like a holy mantra. The walls of the apartment were thin. Perhaps you’d have to apologize to his neighbours the following morning.

He kept going and you started pulling his hair as you got closer and closer to your release. He sensed your need and you immediately felt everything intensifying. There was no way you’d be able to hold back. So you didn’t. With a final scream of his name, you reached your peak and surfed through it gently with his help. Coming down was smoother than the silk sheets you were breathing ever so heavily on.

“Where did you learn to do that?” You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard. So hard for so many reasons.

“If I’m being honest, that was my first time doing that. I was pretty nervous about it, but now I know how you like it.” Was he a god? A sex god? You watched as he moved back up to you, spitting in his hand and wrapping it around his dick. He was above average but certainly made up for it in girth. You started to wonder whether he’d fit or not, but before you could let your mind wander too far, you felt him slide his dick up and down your slit, lubricating himself with your essence. The way he’d graze your clit with the head was to die for. You already knew you were going to be in for a ride.

“You’re sure about this?” He asks to be sure. If there was one thing you appreciated more than anything— it was asking for consent.

“I am. I’m on the pill as well. You can go on,” you said and bucked your hips, to feel just a little more pressure. There was no need for that, however, because as soon as those words left your mouth; he went for it.

You felt him enter slowly and carefully, letting you adjust to his size along the way. He stretched you out like you’d break in a new shoe. When he finally reached the end and couldn’t push any more in, he waited for you to tell him to move. A true gentleman. When you nodded, he almost pulled all the way out, before slamming into you again. You couldn’t help but choke out his name, accidentally leaving a scratch on his shoulder. In response, he attacked your neck. His movements were swift and steady. Your legs were wrapped tightly around him, as he held your hips with his smooth hands. Your hands were now in his hair, pulling and scratching. Your pants synced with his and the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other.

As much as you loved the current position, you wanted more. No, you needed more. He noticed it and pulled out. In that brief moment, you felt emptier than ever. You proceeded to climb on top of him, shoving him back inside you. This time, he was able to reach much deeper. The position was so erotic. He was able to watch as your breasts bounced and your eyes rolled back. It was heaven on earth for him.

“Fuck, you’re absolutely out of this world,” he panted and squeezed your hips, guiding you up and down his veiny dick. Your hands rested on his shoulder and you lowered your head to pull Max into a kiss, connecting a string of saliva as you pulled away. When you felt him thrust up into you in a rather sloppy manner, you knew he was close; and so were you. Your movements became more erratic and desperate.

“Do it, finish all over my dick, darling,” he groaned and continued helping you with your release as well as his. You bounced a few more times before slamming down one last time. Hard. You felt yourself tip over the edge, spilling all of your juices on Max’s abdomen. At the same time, you felt him shoot his own load into you, filling you with a certain delight.

The two of you sat there for a little before you got off him and found a place next to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and had your head on his shoulder. You felt his heartbeat starting to slow down after coming down from the incredible high.

“That’s what that’s supposed to feel like,” you sighed, which was followed by a chuckle from the both of you.

“You lied about the train tomorrow morning, didn't you?” You could tell he was smirking by the tone of his voice.

“I may have.”

“You should cancel the remaining days at your hotel and come live here. I don’t want us to be strangers,” said Max.

“Sure, why not?” You snuggled into his nape and closed your eyes.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep. Let’s get you all cleaned up first.” You realized that Max was no stranger at all. You had a feeling that he’d stick around for a long long time. At least you wanted him to, and it seemed like he wanted that too.

“Okay, stranger.” You got up and saw the smile on his face. He was cuter than you initially thought.

“Perhaps I could take this stranger out on a date tomorrow? I know of a great coffee shop nearby,” Max suggested and got up as well. You nodded and smiled, the two of you both leaving for the lavender-scented bathroom.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[yurixangst]

Hello! I posted a new chapter for my RadioApple fanfic on Ao3! Here’s some doodlings:

Chasing Beatitude

Adults only! It’s rated E, but not for everybody!!

Chapter 10 snippet:

The feminine pitch in the speakers took an irregularly long pause to reply. “…Who’s asking?”

“Oh! Apologies again. We’re investigators who were hired by Lord Zestial’s estate. My… partner Al—.”

Shit. Using their real names wasn’t a good idea.

“—ecia and—.”

His dishonest introduction was cut off by a heavy hand at his shoulder spinning him around. “Excuse me?”

“What?” The innocence in his high octave was fake. “You should have a fake name.”

“I made no measure to hide my identity.” Alastor’s octave was high, as well, and accusatory. “What is a fake name going to do?”

Double shit.

This mission was off to a rocky onset. He blamed the Radio Demon for all of it. If he wasn’t caught between two determinative crossroads then maybe he could think clearer. That damn demon should’ve thought about putting together an alias, too! …So what if the specifics of the assignment were only mentioned two minutes ago! Additionally, there was a high likelihood that he would forget the fake name he just created—that was also Alastor’s fault.

UGH.

“Just go with it!”

‘Shut up.’

“Hello? Are you still there?” Their bickering was going to cost them a sale.

The radio star took the stage in his place. “Don’t mind my old chum, here, miss. This is his first case! He’s an extremely green junior detective who I’ve been devoting my precious time into training. My name is… Alecia, and this is Lucille—.”

An interjection corrected, “Luci for short.”

“Ahaha! Call him Lucille, his mother hates that nickname.” He was polite to the woman, but the facial expression shot a warning to the shorter male. Releasing the button, he growled low, “don’t permit others to use your name so casually.”

A pastel eyebrow raised. “My name? Luci isn’t my name.”

A jarring flick landed dead center of his forehead. “It’s my name for you.”

Lucifer was thunderstruck, rubbing at the sore spot.

Triple shit.

[cometpunkpunk]

Hello and welcome to my humble little blog

I’m finally back on Tumblr after deleting my old account a few months ago

Information about me:

-My name is Ty (Although I also like being called Andromeda)

-I am assigned menace at birth

-As of making this I am 17 years old (though I’m 18 soon)

-I’m an aspiring author as well as poet

-I like making friends a lot and am more than happy to befriend most people

-I’m asexual

What’s this blog for:

-This blog is for posting fanfics/headcanons

-Also it serves as a fandom blog for my various interests

-I may take requests In the future but that’s to be decided

Rules:

-I don’t want to see any NSFW content including kink (I’m a csa victim)

-I refuse to participate in discourse so please don’t ask

-Do be polite and respectful

-You cannot interact with my blog if you are a pedo, zoo, bigot, judge peoples interests, fetish miners and cat haters

My fandoms and guide:

#Ty is sane

Is for my normal posts

#Ty is insane

Is for the unhinged stuff

❤️: current favourites

💜: not a hyperfixtation but I still love

🤍: only recently got into/not finished

🧡: old interest I still am fond of

💛: not in the fandom but would make content for

💚: unable to make content for but still enjoy and will talk about

If there’s a fandom you’re in that I haven’t listened ask about it.

Games:

-Borderlands 🧡

-Undertale/Deltarune ❤️

-Little nightmares 💜

-Mario 💜

-Sonic 🤍

-Pokemon ❤️

-Danganronpa 🧡

-DDLC 🧡

-Crash Bandicoot 💚

-Animal crossing 💜

-Devil may cry 🧡

-Soulsborne games 💚

-Stardew valley ❤️

-Genshin ❤️

-Battle cats 💚

-FNAF 💛

-SCP 🤍

-Batman games 💚

Books:

-A series of unfortunate events ❤️

-Diary of a Wimpy Kid ❤️

Shows/cartoons:

-Monster high (Gen 1) ❤️

-Total drama ❤️

-Ridonculous race ❤️

-Making fiends 💜

-Steven universe 🧡

-TMNT 🤍

-SpongeBob 💜

-Mr men 🧡

-Scooby doo 🤍🧡

-Disney movies 🤍🧡

-Pixar movies 🤍🧡

-Dreamworks movies 🤍🧡

-Bluesky movies 🤍🧡

-Mlp 💛

-Arthur 💚

-Coraline 💜

-Looney Tunes 💜

Anime:

-Madoka Magica ❤️

-Grand blue dreaming ❤️

-NGE 💛

-Life lessons with Uramichi Oniisan 💜

-Demon slayer (Finishing Mugen train arc) 🤍❤️

-MHA (Season 1)🤍💛

-Perfect blue 💜

-Made in abyss 💜

[justforbooks]

Patriot by Alexei Navalny

The late Russian activist’s memoir is an insightful, sharp, even humorous account of his fight against Putin’s regime – and a warning to the world

Alexei Navalny was watching his favourite cartoon show, Rick and Morty, when he suddenly felt unwell. He was 21 minutes into an episode where Rick turns into a pickle. The late Russian opposition leader was on a flight back to Moscow after campaigning ahead of regional elections in the Siberian city of Tomsk in August 2020. Something was clearly wrong, and Navalny staggered to the bathroom.

There, he recalls, he had the grim realisation: “I’m done for.” He told a sceptical steward that he’d been poisoned and then lay down calmly in the aisle, facing a wall. Life didn’t flash before his eyes. Instead, he compares his experience of death – or near-death, as it turned out – to something from a dark fantasy. It was like being “kissed by a Dementor and a Nazgûl stands nearby”.

He is clear who gave the order to kill him with the nerve agent novichok: Vladimir Putin. Navalny calls Russia’s president a “bribe-taking old man” and a “vengeful runt” who sits on top of a “sinister regime”. The assassins were members of the FSB, the KGB’s successor agency. Navalny spent 18 days in a coma, waking up in hospital in Germany.

It was while recovering in Freiburg that he wrote the first part of his extraordinary memoir, Patriot. The second section consists of letters from prison, following his January 2021 return to Moscow, when he was dramatically arrested at the airport. Navalny says he embarked on an autobiography knowing the Kremlin could finish him off. “If they do finally whack me, this book will be my memorial,” he notes.

It took three years for his gallows humour prophecy to come true. Navalny died in February this year, his likely murder taking place in an Arctic penal colony. He was 47. Prison documents hint he was poisoned and the authorities removed the evidence: clothes, vomit, even snow he had come into contact with.

This is a brave and brilliant book, a luminous account of Navalny’s life and dark times. It is a challenge from beyond the grave to Russia’s murder-addicted rulers. You can hear his voice in the deft translation by Arch Tait and Stephen Dalziel: sharp, playful and lacking in self-pity. Nothing crushes him. Up until the end – his final “polar” entry is on 17 January 2024 – he radiates indomitable good humour.

Patriot includes a manifesto for how the country might be transformed: free elections, a constitutional assembly, decentralisation and a European orientation. Days before his murder, he predicted the Putin regime would crumble, while acknowledging the resilience of autocracies.

Trained as a lawyer, Navalny first attracted attention as a transparency activist. He bought shares in notoriously corrupt oil and gas companies and asked awkward questions at shareholder meetings. The Kremlin controlled TV and most newspapers, so Navalny wrote up his exposés online. In 2011 he founded FBK, an anti-corruption organisation which grew into a grassroots national movement run by volunteers. He expresses pride at the way his campaigns encouraged young Russians to take part in opposition politics. Police detained him for the first time in 2011 when he attended protests against rigged Duma elections. Undaunted, he stood two years later to be mayor of Moscow, coming second, before finding himself in an “endless cycle” of rallies, arrests and spells in custody.

The Kremlin’s response to all this was vicious. His brother Oleg was jailed after a fake trial, a provocateur threw green gunk at Navalny, blinding him in one eye. In 2016 he tried to run for president. His videos – of Putin’s tacky Sochi palace and former president Dmitry Medvedev’s dodgy schemes – attracted millions of views. Navalny writes movingly about his wife, Yulia, – whom he met on holiday in Turkey – as a soulmate throughout this period.

Given his understanding of Putin’s Stalinist methods, why did he return to Moscow? His answer is that the struggle to make Russia a normal state was “my life’s work”. He wasn’t prepared to dump his homeland or his convictions, he says. At first, jail conditions were bearable. Well-wishers sent sacks of letters and a tiramisu cake. In one dispatch, Navalny ponders the “amazing ability of human beings to adapt and derive pleasure from the most trivial things”, such as instant coffee.

Behind bars, he chatted to his cellmates and read. He preferred Maupassant to Flaubert and enjoyed Oliver Twist (though he wonders if Dickens got working-class dialogue right). The FSB spied on him 24/7; his warders wore body cameras and barked commands.

As conditions worsened, he made fewer diary entries. More criminal “convictions” piled up – for insulting a war veteran and for extremism. He was shuffled from one penitentiary to the next. Meanwhile, “perverted” prison staff refused to treat his back pain, prompting a hunger strike. He was categorised as a flight risk and woken throughout the night, put in a tiny punishment cell and denied his wife’s letters.

None of these privations stopped Navalny from denouncing Putin’s all-out invasion of Ukraine as an “unjust war of aggression”. The reason for the war is Putin’s desire to hold on to power at any cost, and an obsession with his “historical legacy”, he writes. Critics regard Navalny as a closet nationalist. But Patriot calls for Russia to withdraw its troops, respect Ukraine’s 1991 borders and pay compensation.

During one of Yulia’s visits, Navalny told her there was a “high probability” he would never get out of prison alive. “They will poison me,” he said. “I know,” she replied. He sketches out what this means – no chance to say goodbye, never meeting his grandchildren, “tasseled mortar boards tossed in the air in my absence”. Maybe an unmarked grave. His philosophy: hope for the best, expect the worst. His death is a terrible loss, for Russia and for all of us.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[weaselbeaselpants]

If I were a cartoon review youtuber, some of my videos would definitely be:

Underrated Animated films you should see vol. 1 - ongoing

Complete look at Skunk Fu! and all it's episodes

What's ACTUALLY wrong with Illumination films (spoiler: it's not the designs). And that video would probably have a sequel ironically unironically accusing Chris Meladandri of being a White Walker who rips out movies' souls.

Disturbing Animated Film Iceberg.

A calming, sweet short retrospective on The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends.

Killing off the idea of "endgame". Tho, tbf, I'm definitely going to be writing that thesis statement down someday. I guess in video format it'd be a big "did this series REALLY fall off cuz the creator catered to fans?" breakdown of a few shows.

A video about 9. Because of course I'd make something about 9.

Politically heavy (but not horror) animated films.

An essay explaining the difference between what I want to see in a story vs what's actually good in a story; and likewise the difference between what I personally do/don't find offensive and what's objectively offensive as a viewer.

The dichotomy and standards between different talking animal films.

A review about Mary and Max and why I like it but it's okay if other autists don't. which would be a broader video about how to listen to the opinions of demographics and minorities and not to treat any one as a hivemind.

Movies that I dislike but aren't actually bad.

Movies I love that aren't really all that good.

A deeper dive on my take that Steven Universe was always deeply flawed but having an otherwise working ending; where Star vs was a well-written show that utterly biffed it on the ending.

The Swan Princess is secret conservative propaganda.

The 31 dumbest things in Oogies Revenge.

Zero's Journey is the only good TNBC continuation.

13 Horror animated Feature Films. For Halloween, of course...

My issue with Dreamworks' stans and why I dislike How to Train You Dragon 2.

My issues with Anti v Proshipping. Def would be a multi part series explaining why I think most of the problem is just people really aggresively bulling one another -AND THEN, getting into heinous fandom shit that no one talks about and the ethics of children online and freedom of expression.

Prolly then would make an exclusive (cuz it's dirty) review abt the rights of r34 and adult artists and what they had to/have to put up with both from peers and websites banning explicit material.

What absolutely doesn't work about Pocahontas and Anastasia.

I'd do a series called "Spitball Re-haul" wherein I go through a revisioned show's premise and then explain all the reasons for the changes. I'd make:

How I'd rewrite The Owl House season 3.

How I'd rewrite Star vs the Forces of Evil "Cleaved".

How I'd rewrite Strange Magic.

How I'd rewrite Raya and the Last Dragon.

How I'd rewrite Seasons 4-8 of Friendship is Magic.

My tinfoil hat video on Disney trying to profit so much off of fans is hurting their bases.

Mapping out and analyzing different types of crossover fiction, their merits and their issues with story-keeping.

Mythological and cultural animated films.

and finally, for when I'd muster up the strength:

an HBomberGuy-type callout/deepdive into MysteriousMrEnter and Lily Orchard and how they've made cartoon reviews worse.

[lexygabe]

tora aikawa / twisting tiger headcanons/rewriting/etc.

(march/11/1990)

pisces sun | virgo moon | aquarius rising

INFP - 9w8 - sx/so - 974 - ESI - RLUAI - EFVL - Melancholic-Phlegmatic

general headcanons:

• trans masc, he/him, gayace,

• nobody cares but his sexuality headcanons were made by me when i was mad at wattpad bitches infantalizing him and making him their uwu japanese anime boyfriend,

• also he is little gremlin man before anybody start treating him as omg so cute trans boy hahaha gay baby. nah, he will kick you directly in the balls (even if you don't have them) and he will do this with pleasure,

• as a kid he was creepypasta enjoyer (he tortured miko with them when he was trying to sleep),

• philosophy nerd, not only into "asian philosophy", but philosophy in general. marxism, stoicism, nihilism, epicureanism, etc. everything,

• he reads this big fucking books weighing tons and they are always the craziest shit ever like "the idiot" by fyodor dostoevsky,

• i think he is russian literature fan in general,

• i think he had something that we could describe as depressive episodes, but he was never diagnosed with it til adulthood. and to be honesg tiger himself thought that everyone have felt something like that from time to time,

• probably has light ptsd,

• his friendships with nakama players (besides his and miko bond) aren't that strong like they used to. this is "when both of you start to distancing from each other and you become strangers to each other" situation, (he misses them)

• he self expressing himself very often in form of his new tricks, but also in his writing (he has a lot of notebooks with multiple essays),

• loves cartoons,

• <energy drinks3,

• he has keyhole top surgery type of scars,

• he become strika member after his whole transition journey,

• when doc got his medical results he was a little bit confused bcs birth certificate said that tiger is afab, so he informed coach about it,

• some day after training coach took tiger aside and told him that if anybody's gonna have problem with his identity, he will talk to them and he also asked tiger if he was capable of informing him or doc about his problems/health,

• rasta was first to know, bcs he and tiger went out for a beer together once and tiger started pointing out on his chest and telling a whole story totally drunk. the next day rasta walked up to him and asked in friendly-jokingly way is it safe for him to remove his muscle breasts, to which tiger replied with laugh,

• besides rasta, coach and doc. shakes, klaus and probably whole reserve players bench know about him,

• y'all will eat me (for speaking the truth) but matador, joe and north don't know about the fact that he is trans. bcs north definitely says f/aggot at least once a day, el is this cis lgb+ stereotype in tigers eyes (even tho matador doesn't care about gender identity, if you are hot, then you are hot and you will have to deal with his interest in you) and joe may perceive tiger differently when he would come out (again, this is how tiger feels about him),

• he is very critical of the sigma male trend and whole "sigma" idea in general, he even done a research and watched and read american psycho and fight club (yeah ik this is so random),

• idealist. he is close with his feelings and morality, so he assumes very often that everyone controls their own emotions like him,

• he is both idealist and skeptic,

• texts >>>>>>> voice messages/video calls,

• had religion crisis,

• he develops his trust to people very slowly,

• has mulitple accounts on twitter and makes the best trolling posts out there,

• he has decent knowledge about politics,

• watches kdramas when bored,

• he was wearing brackets in the past,

• has a lot of collections (like gadgets from chips' wrappers, TALISMANS, jewelry, figurines), but he is not obsessed about them,

• has tattoos like this:

• DEFINITELY HAS SOMETHINGG FROM HYPERMOBILITY SPECTRUM. that's why he is so flexible.

throught the series (og tv show, rewriting):

• [—] is waiting to be completed.

relationship with:

• miko: ik a lot of you ships them, but they are platonic to me.

they are like brothers. sometimes they fight for dear life and the other time they send each other funny memes at 3 am. in my head, both of them didn't have a great family dynamic, so they stayed together late at night.

miko was more easy going, so he was always worried about tiger when something happened to him. they aren't ashamed to show their love to each other.

• inyo: when they were kiddos she truly loved him in the most sisterly way you can think of. both of them are very careful when it comes to developing relations so they become very important to each other. it hurt when they had no contact with each other for years and then they become super league enemies (they never even have a talk after this).

• rasta: tiger is welcomed in rasta's house and tiger is always open to do something for rasta in return. buddies.

• cool joe: its complicated. on the one hand they are good friends and joe considers tiger as one of the most normal mates in their team, but they still have that unresolved tension that prevents them from deepening their relationship further.

• others: ?

fashion headcanons:

• smokey eye makeup supremacy,

• TW SCARYASS PRINTED SHIRT. he wears t-shirts with the most obscure shit on them

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• his style is something between grunge, gothic and alt,

• he wears platform shoes to look taller than he actually is,

• some examples of his fits:

music headcanons:

• soft rock!! (car seat headrest is his beloved), j-pop, mcr & bôa.

NSFW:

• had a tdick at the time when he was playing for nakama,

• is into t4t relationships, bcs every cis gay guy he had thing for were super weird about him and either have had internalized transphobia or specific fantasies that crossed his boundaries of comfort,

• tldr give this man a trans bf so he could have the most non sexual intercourse.