#puma base

[holographic-void-art]

Puma base for you to freely use

Base de puma per a que facis servir gratuïtament

[link]

[keskeaa]

Body felted and now to add the dyed wool to match her paint. I’ll need to unfortunately add more paint too, and seal over that. Gotta figure out a better sealing method/medium or something so the paint isn’t so easily chipped. This is just damage from being in my bag, carefully packed in a littler bag to protect her.

[dollsinvogue]

Shadow High Nicole Steel jersey » Fenty x Puma 13 shirt

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

On earth-616, The Outlaws are a short lived team of reformed Spider-man villains (Prowler, Puma, Silver Sable, Rocket Racer, and Will o’ the Wisp or Sandman) trying their best to clean up their acts and be heroes.

…But what does that make them on an earth with no Spider-Man?

[likeadog]

BANGS MY STAFF. ibara zodiac chart

[detroitbecomeonline]

Connor, Puma, DPD. What is their new case? Mafia stake out of course! Uh oh, there was red ice that fell through the weak ceiling of their abandoned stake-out apartment and erupted in a cloud of powder. They black out and wake up in a casino. They're surrounded by clowns. Horny clowns. You know what the means? Clown orgy! The honks draw in the Memorial Park geese. What do they do? They're gonna fight them. Fists clenched, clenched teeth, teeth bared, bare backed? Oh, yes please! Connor lost his shirt and jacket in the brawl. They befriend the casino owner and are gifted Fall 2023 Louis Vuitton clothes, falling over clothes, fell into a pit of despair. Dance. Dance. Revolution. Revolution, overthrow the government? Uh, we've already done that. Overthrow the mob boss? Dance, dance REVOLVER. Next thing you know, they've salsa'd their way into a sparkly mafia event and introduced themselves as clowns. They shoot the boss with a revolver, jump off a building, and black out again. Wake up, white feathers, it's the geese again. Lick some bird, BURNT out, in which they need to recharge and return to the DPD, then it's the second hit of red ice, red nose, ready to report! Uh oh, looks like they're blue-screening in Fowler's office! Duzubuzupzudahaha, AAAAH!

[nerds-yearbook]

After only 6 issues, the second run of "The Rampaging Hulk" concluded (cover date January, 1999). ("Hulk Smashed", Rampaging Hulk 6 vl 2, Comic, Event)

[ponderwuff]

Waking up changed, forever

Indulgent thing based on a dream. Featuring puma sona.

[lady-lycany]

Otherkin fam, we get a new movie for people like us 🙌🏼

I assume, it's a german produced movie and therefore there's only a german trailer atm, but I decided to write the translation of the trailer dialog here for you!

"Carag, you've lost the connection to your animal... It can happen, if you live too long in human-shape... Close your eyes... They're not really closed, they look into your inner self... You can see, how you're a Puma... Listen, they're calling you..."

Here the movie description:

"The story tells you about Carag, a boy with the ability to shapeshift: he can transform into a human or a mountain-lion. As a toddler, he traveled in the wilderness with his family, but after his pack got separated, he had to find a new home. On his search, Carag comes across the Clearwater high boarding school. Once there, he feels comfortable for the first time in his life. Red squirrel Holly and bison Brandon are at his side."

The movies are based on a book series and the first movie comes out Oct. 24th 2024. Second movie is in the works for 2026, but It's supposed to have 3 movies in total.

[gabgabwrites]

GREEN EYED PSYCHO | Patrick Bateman

summary ⇝ Patrick wasn’t fond when he found out you were going to Dorsia with Paul, one of his least favourite people ever, so he decided he’d take things into his own hands to scratch that insatiable itch.

warnings ⇝ starts out with Paul like a lot of Paul, language, jealousy drinking, death, murder, gore, blood, literal psychos… reader is kinda ditzy, mdni

based off this ask

dead dove do not eat <- just in case.

please note this fic is triggering, if you cannot handle reading about literal murder happening before your very eyes, then this one isn’t for you! You have been warned.

Paul Allen had invited you to Dorsia, fucking Dorsia for dinner, and Patrick was livid. You and Patrick had a complicated relationship to say the least. You didn't have a label, yet. He was so drawn by your beauty then trapped by your insanity.

Patrick bit down on his bottom lip once you had left to go for this dinner, violent and gruesome thoughts flooded his mind. Yet here you sat, under the twinkling lights of Dorsia, its expensiveness you could barely touch.

Paul sat across from you, a charming smile on his pale, sharp face. He was gorgeous, yes, and he had on a well-tailored and no doubt expensive suit that accentuated his features. It was a dark black with blue undertones, double-breasted as well. His dark brown hair was smoothed back, like a wave of auburn.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, raising his champagne glass and offering a suave smile.

"Thank you, Paul," you replied, raising your glass before taking a sip. The rich flavors, sweet yet bitter, swirled on your tongue before dipping into your throat.

"You're welcome," he responded smoothly, setting his glass down after drinking. His grey eyes scanned your figure, studying every detail about you. "That dress looks wonderful on you," he complimented. "Who's the designer?"

You batted your eyelashes, a giggle pouring from your lips. "McQueen," you said, your fingers flicking at the lush, pastel blue fabric.

Paul raised his brows slowly, his grey eyes lighting up. "Alexander McQueen?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "That's a fantastic designer. Very expensive as well."

"The one and only," you nodded. "It was a gift."

"From a past boyfriend?" Paul guessed, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips as he glanced down at the table to adjust his suit sleeve.

You shook your head. "Step-mother."

"Oh?" The smirk on Paul's face didn't disappear. In fact, it only grew as he propped his chin up on a fist. "Your step-mother?" he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone as he raised a brow.

"Yes, Paul, you know. The woman who married my father?"

"Yes, I'm aware of what a stepmother is," he responded with a chuckle. "But it's not very often that you hear of a stepmother buying her stepdaughter pricey gifts like McQueen."

"What can I say? We just have a great bond," you shrugged.

"That's wonderful to hear," he replied, taking another sip of his wine. Paul seemed to be enjoying himself tonight, eyeing you from across the table like a puma ready to pounce on its prey. "Any other designer pieces in your wardrobe?"

"Just a Hermes bag, but that's all for big brand names."

"Ah, Hermes," he leaned back in his booth, crossing his arms as the smirk on his face widened. "Another expensive brand. It seems your wardrobe is worth more than most people's annual salaries."

You snickered at his words. "Paul, may I ask why you invited me out to dinner?"

The smirk disappeared from Paul's face at your question, his face morphing into a look of nonchalance. He took a sip of his wine, setting the empty glass on the table. "I wanted to treat a pretty woman to an expensive dinner," he responded smoothly. "Is that wrong?"

"No, Paul. Not at all," you smiled, just as the waiter came to take your first order.

"Let's see," Paul grabbed the menu. It was made of brown leather and had golden letters etched into it, like an iron-branded pig, just luxurious. "I'll have your finest steak, and seasonal vegetables, and how about a side of the carbs too, and the lady will have the lobster with the hand-cut potato wedges, and a side of greens."

You didn't mind that Paul ordered for you. You just laced your fingers together and rested your chin on them, watching the waiter walk off with the menus.

"So, Paul," you began, trying to pierce through the polished veneer he always presented. "What have you been up to lately?"

He smiled, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Oh, the usual. Business meetings, networking events, a bit of travel here and there. How about you?"

"Not much. Just trying to keep up with life. It's been hectic," you replied.

Paul reached across the table and took your hand, his touch cool and firm. "You deserve a break. Maybe we could take a trip together sometime," he suggested, his voice low and intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, though you couldn't help but wonder about his true intentions. "That sounds lovely," you said, trying to keep your tone light.

The conversation continued, flowing easily despite the undercurrent of tension. Paul was a master of charm, effortlessly keeping you engaged with stories of his travels and business ventures. Yet, every so often, his eyes would darken, and you could sense something deeper lurking beneath the surface.

The waiter returned with your meals, placing the beautifully plated dishes in front of you. The lobster looked succulent, and the aroma of the steak made your mouth water.

"Bon appétit," Paul said, raising his glass once more.

"To a wonderful evening," you replied, clinking your glass against his.

As you ate, you couldn't shake the feeling that Paul was studying you, assessing your every move. It was both flattering and unnerving. You tried to focus on the delicious food, but your mind kept drifting back to Paul's enigmatic smile and piercing gaze.

Paul watched as you let your head roll back once you took a bite, a small moan left your lips, the lobster was buttery and fell apart in your mouth, it was silky and one of, if not, the best thing you've ever tasted. Your tongue darted out to lick the corner of your mouth, retrieving a small droplet of butter. "This is so..."

"Insufferable," Patrick grumbled, his fingers digging into the couch to fuck the white fabric in. A strand of his hair dangled over his forehead, out of place, imperfect, uncontrolled. That's how Patrick felt, he didn't feel in a lot of control.

He stood up to admire his handiwork, all couches and the floor were covered in white tarp. He fixed his red tie, straightening it, before walking to his kitchen. At the back, he had a display of artillery, each one shiny metal, and silky black.

The potatoes were just as good, crunchy golden and cooked to perfection on the outside, and soft and pillowy on the inside, tasting like garlic and thyme. "Mmm, why hadn't I come here sooner? Pat would love this place," you hummed.

"Pat?"

You blinked your eyes open and stared at Paul. "Yes, as in Patrick."

"Who's Patrick, and Patrick who?"

"Patrick. Patrick Bateman, we're sorta seeing each other," you dabbed the serviette on your bottom lip.

You watched as Paul's bottom teeth scraped the inside of his bottom lip in slight distaste. "And you didn't tell me? You're dating that asshole in my department?" His fingers curled around the polished silver wear.

"I didn't think it would matter, and Patrick's sweet, deep down. Plus, we're not even official."

Paul sighed. Paul's charming smile returned, though it was now tinged with something darker, a subtle edge that hadn't been there before. "I see. Well, I suppose everyone has their secrets," he said, his voice smooth but carrying an undertone of something you couldn’t quite place.

Back in his apartment, Patrick's mood was anything but relaxed. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the sleek, black countertop as he sipped a glass of scotch. The pristine apartment, with its minimalist design and high-end furnishings, felt like a cage tonight. He couldn't shake the image of you at dinner with Paul from his mind.

"Paul Allen," he muttered to himself, his voice low and dangerous. The name tasted bitter on his tongue. Paul was a rival, not just in business, but now in his personal life as well. The thought of you with Paul made his blood boil.

Patrick picked up a sleek, black knife, feeling the weight of it in his hand. The cold metal was comforting, a reminder of his power and control. He envisioned a hundred different ways to make Paul pay for his insolence, each scenario more violent than the last. But he knew he had to be careful, calculated. Paul was well-connected, and any rash actions could bring unwanted attention.

Setting the knife back down, Patrick took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging storm inside him. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him. Not now. He needed a plan, something that would not only remove Paul from the picture but also solidify his own position.

As he pondered his next move, Patrick's thoughts turned back to you. You were the one bright spot in his otherwise bleak existence, the one person who made him feel something other than anger and emptiness. He couldn't let Paul take you away. He wouldn't.

You felt a flicker of discomfort. Paul's reaction seemed a bit too intense for something as simple as your dating life. Trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground, you asked, "So, tell me more about your recent travels. Anywhere exciting?"

He leaned back, his expression softening slightly. "Actually, I just got back from a business trip in Tokyo. The city is incredible—so vibrant and full of life. I had meetings during the day, but the nights were my own to explore. The food, the culture, the energy—it's all so different from here."

"That sounds amazing. I've always wanted to visit Japan," you said, genuinely interested, hoping to keep the conversation light.

"You should. It's a place like no other," Paul said, his gaze softening as he recounted his experiences. "One night, I found this tiny sushi place off the beaten path. It was the best meal I've ever had. The chef was a master, each piece of sushi a work of art."

"Wow, that sounds incredible," you replied, imagining the scene. "I'd love to experience that."

"Maybe we can go together someday," Paul suggested, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard.

"Maybe," you said, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. Despite his occasional intensity, there was something undeniably magnetic about Paul.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing once more. The food, the ambiance, and Paul's charm all worked together to create an unforgettable evening. As you finished your meal, Paul signaled for the waiter and ordered a bottle of their finest dessert wine.

"You've really outdone yourself tonight, Paul," you said, raising your glass in a toast.

"To memorable nights," Paul replied, clinking his glass against yours. "And to more of them in the future."

You smiled, feeling a genuine connection with him despite the undercurrent of mystery that seemed to surround him. As the evening drew to a close, you both stepped out into the cool night air, the bustling sounds of the city wrapping around you.

"Let me walk you to your car," Paul offered, his hand lightly touching the small of your back.

"That would be nice," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. You walked side by side, the conversation continuing effortlessly. As you reached your car, Paul turned to face you, his eyes intense.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," he said softly, his hand still resting on your back.

"Me too," you replied, your heart racing a little. "Thank you for dinner. It was amazing."

"Let's do this again soon," Paul suggested, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I'd like that," you said, smiling up at him. In the cool night, a vibrant sound cut the silence. Your phone buzzed away in your purse. You fished it out and pressed answer. "Hello?"

"Come to my apartment, now," Patrick demanded, his words were angry and a definite command, but his tone was steady. "Bring Paul."

"May I ask why?"

"You have ten minutes," Patrick hung up on you, leaving you to pout before turning back to Paul.

"Actually, would you mind coming with me?" you asked, gesturing towards your car with a sly smile. Paul, intrigued and slightly aroused by the sudden shift in the evening's tone, smirked back, his eyes glinting with curiosity and something else.

"Oh? Can't get enough of me? Sure, sweet thing, I'll go with you," you gave him a big smile as you unlocked the vehicle. Paul climbed into the passengers side.

It was a seven minute drive, before you pulled up to the fancy apartments. Paul practically cornered you in the elevator, eyes hungry as he stared at you, like a starved lion staring and a lonesome gazelle.

Patrick was no where to be found, the apartment was silent. "How about we sit? Hm?" You asked Paul as you walked over to the couch, throwing your purse on the armrest before sinking into the couch, growing at the slightly scratchy tarp, the floor was also covered, except with old newspapers and magazines.

"What's with the couches? Why are they covered?" Paul asked? Walking over as he took his blazer off, folding it over the couch before sitting down, knees knocking into yours.

"It's a fashion statement, I guess. Whiskey?" You asked, plucking a crystal glass off silver tray that Patrick had on the coffee table. "It's bourbon."

"I prefer Scotch, but yes," you poured him a glass, he took it before taking a sip, rich flavours dancing on his tongue. "It tastes cheap."

"Oh no, no. If there's one thing Patty doesn't like, is cheap alcohol," and suddenly, the drink tasted bitter on Paul's tongue, but he swallowed it down. You lay your head on your hands, your arm resting on the couch as you stared at Paul with a smile.

Paul shook his head, before placing the glass down. He looked at you, blue eyes sweltering, until his breath fanned your face. "You do look beautiful tonight, absolutely breathtaking."

His fingers brushed along the expanse of your thigh. His lips drawing nearer and nearer. Until footsteps were heard from around the house, nearing the two of you. Your lips pulled down in a small frown.

"What is Marcus Halberstram doing here?" Paul asked.

You frowned in confusion before turning to see. However, standing there was Patrick.

Paul had always thought Patrick was Marcus and Marcus was Patrick since they had the same job, dressed the same and went to the same barber.

Patrick was wearing a double breasted black suit, with a red tie neatly tucked into it, a white, mesh rain coat buttoned around his chest. Your eyebrows sunk in confusion as to why the unusual attire and was about to ask, when Patrick started to speak, taking swift strides as he walked over to the wall unit where he had a decent size collection of CDs. "You like Huey Lewis and the News?"

"They're okay," Paul spoke, before downing the rest of his drink and pouring another.

"Their early work was a little too New Wave for my taste. But then Sports came out in 1983, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically."

You watched Patrick ramble, pulling out a disc from a Huey Lewis and the News album and place it delicately in the CD player, 'Hip to be Square' started playing just as Patrick exited.

You turned to Paul, the newspapers under your feet crinkled at your actions. "Why is he here? I thought it was just you and I tonight?" Paul asked.

"I...it's his apartment. I'm sorry, I do hope you'd forgive me," with platonic motives, you placed a hand sweetly on his knee.

Paul chose not to ask why Marcus was in your house when you'd spoken of Patrick, instead he lifted a hand and cradled the smooth skin of your jaw, falling victim to your alluring gaze. "It's alright," his state darkened. "I can think of a few ways to forgive you."

"And how's that?" Your voice was soft and saccharine.

Patrick went to his bathroom and scooped up an axe in his grip. When his eyes settled onto you and Paul, so close together, in what looked like intimate moment, he was furious, anger bubbler under his skin but he plastered on a smile on his tanned skin, his loafers strode against the tiled floor as he swung the axe over his shoulder to rest on the bone.

“Hey, Paul?” Patrick’s voice broke the moment, Paul’s warmth shifted away from yours as he turned to Patrick, sheer horror burst on his features before blood, blood sprayed everywhere as Patrick let out a manic scream.

You shrieked, twisting yourself to get up from the couch. “Patrick! My dress! You’ve ruined my dress!” You gasped, the once pretty, soft blue was stained red, so was your check and a portion of your arm. “You know how hard it is to get blood out?”

Patrick grunted as he let his arms swing the axe into Paul’s limp body once more before chucking it to the side, chest thumping as he let out deep breaths like a savage beast, dressed in a tux. “We’ll get a new one.”

“But Patty, this was a gift from Anne, my step-mother,” you pouted, still frowning at the dirty fabric.

A vice grip found way on your chin, Patrick gripping the bone, forcing you to look at him. An angry storm swirled beneath his brown eyes. “I said we’ll get a fucking new one,” he spat before turning you around to face the very much dead Paul. “Look at him.”

You winced under his hold, staring at the body that still twitched from muscle memory.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Patrick, I didn’t mean—,” you rambled.

“I know,” Patrick sighed before his grip loosened and his arms were around you, your body pressing against his chest as he enveloped you in a hug from behind.

You spun around, no longer caring about the expensive dress and threw your arms around Patrick, a cheery smile spread across your blood coated face. “That was incredibly sexy.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to your face where his thumb grazed your bottom lip, gathering both the red, slightly purple lipstick from your lips and the bright red blood. “I thought someone with a sick and twisted mind like you would this so.”

You just giggled before planting your lips firm on his, allowing yourself to taste his lips that were always minty, always fresh. You found yourself getting lost in the kiss, both easily forgetting the dead human on the living room floor.

“Mm, I love you, Patty,” you said in the kiss.

“And I love you more, princess,” the kissing slowly died down before you had to help Patrick squeeze Paul into a dustbin bag, holding his hand the whole time he chucked the bag into a dumpster.

“We should do this again!” You squealed.

Patrick let out a breath before looking at you, under the night sky illuminated by a distant street lamp, in the alley. His fingers brushed away some hair on your cheek that clung to the drying blood. “Anything for you.”

[kopilot-pop]

hi, about the yunjin starbucks controversy.

i’m gonna try to be as fair as possible talking about this controversy, but i’ll be honest i’m leaning more on yunjin’s side. i’ve been getting several requests on yunjin and i feel like i need to get this off my chest every time i see her name on my page.

let’s start off with the facts: yunjin was caught drinking starbucks in Korea (in front of the company building.)

I thought she drank it on a post or somethrong but no, it was just a few pixels of a low quality picture fans took. And that’s my first minor problem; she wasn’t on live, it wasn’t a post, it was a few milliseconds of pixels. But I get the ‘performative activism’ controversy, it DOES feel like she’s hiding it.

However, my take is that she just got out from her car, and wanna know a little fun fact? Most snacks and drinks that all idols are seen eating are most likely bought by their managers. And it’s a fact that Koreans aren’t currently boycotting Starbucks as actively as western foreigners are. So my thought the first time I saw the picture was that. The manager probably just bought coffee from whatever shop was closest, and handed it to her.

But I do understand how that can feel like reaching so I did some more research .

The biggest thing I have to so called ‘defend’ Yunjin is that Starbucks Korea is completely separate from International Starbucks (source: ChosunBiz).

In 2021, 67.5% of Starbucks was comepletely bought by E-Mart (a branch of Shinsegae), and the rest 32.5% was bought by a Singaporean investment comapny (GIC).

So oh, Starbucks Korea has no affiliations with the part of Starbucks that sues their worker’s union.

However, I can make the argument that Yunjin could influence others to ignore the boycott and buy Starbucks. Is it true that she has several international fans and alot of impressionable fans? Yes.

But then we have to go back to our first argument; it was a few milliseconds of a low quality video.

And after finding that out, I started to feel like all the people commenting about “starbucks queen💕” and “omg whats your starbucks order?” is the problem.

YOU guys are the one promoting Starbucks at this point. Do you understand?

I’m not saying don’t hold someone accountable, no, but I’m saying the comments aren’t fucking helping.

Don’t get me wrong, I do live in Korea, and I have been actively avoiding purchasing from them because I saw a few posts on twitter referencing it. I based an activity on a twitter post. And wanna know when I figured out WHY I was supposed to boycott exactly?

After I deleted Twitter because of the stress I got from the app.

That’s when I finally found out about the BDS list, found out oh, Puma is on the list, McDonalds is an even bigger problem than Starbucks (directly supplying food to soldiers), HP APPARENTLY SUPPLIES TECH FOR THE ISRAEL GOVERNMENT, and oh wow! Starbucks isn’t even on the list because theres not enough proof that they financially fund Israel.

In conclusion, the people preaching about how Yunjin is a performative activist is such hypocrites themselves

It’s clear that while some of the comments and criticisms are genuine, trying to hold a person accountable, but its also clear that the repeat of the same mocking comments of Yunjin is just performative and for attention and likes.

That’s what pisses me off. People who don’t give a shit about Palestine, and people even if they do support Palestine not even doinng the bare minimum amount of research just having fun mocking (not criticizing) a person when a tiny bit of wrong doing is shown.

Please, go look in the mirror, and i dont like saying this but go touch grass, do your own research, dont base off your whole ideology on a reddit post or a twitter, tumblr post, read different variety of news articles from several companies, and THEN make your decision on a situation. Not only Starbucks, not only on Yunjin, but on several other ones too.

Media literacy. Look it up.

[elliespassagerprincess]

Can you maybe do post man Abby with Mrs.postman- Black pumas

Mrs. Postman - (abby anderson x reader)

Hi anon! this was so weird to write because where I'm from we don't have people who deliver our mail, but i hope i did you justice. I hope you enjoy:)

This story is based off the song Mrs. Postman by Black Pumas, if you can please listen to the song as you're reading:)

Pairing: post man!abby x fem!reader

requests are open again! send me your silly thoughts:)

warnings: none

Summary: in which you fell for the post lady

authors note: first abby fic that isn't hcs??? let's fucking go dude. My second post for the day, I'm blessing yall before I leave till god knows when lmao.

Every tomorrow brings sunshine in my neighborhood since you've been in it

Oh-oh, here comes Mrs. Postman

She's thicker than blue blood and a message from her spirits, high descendant

Oh-oh, it's Mrs. Postman

This commonality won't let her be fooled by low conditions

Oh-oh, says Mrs. Postman

Your love reside in me but other feathers seem to flock together

Oh-oh, Mrs. Postman

You hated this stupid fucking city.

You don't even know why you moved here in the first place. It was fucking hot. Everything was expensive. You hated this place so much.

The Jackson sun was high in the sky, as you stood at the window drinking your morning tea.

You had moved in a couple of weeks ago, and today was finally the day you would be able to get your mail.

You finally heard the knock at the door, and with excitement you ran towards it. You almost tripped but no one needs to know that.

As you opened the door, you thought you stood in front of a god.

Her blonde hair, was pulled back in a tight braid, she was staring at you with her beautiful eyes, and her smile was just fucking perfect. Her uniform sat tight against her skin, showing her body is just the right places.

Holy shit.

Postman or Postwoman? You don't even what to call her.

"Hi, I'm Abby! You must be new" she said with a bright smile.

Now you knew why everyone is Jackson was always so happy in the morning, their fucking postman was a ray of sunshine.

"Yeah I am" you said with a small smile, opening up your hand to take the package from her hands.

"Have a good day ma'am" Abby said, before she walked away.

Maybe Jackson wasn't that bad after all.

If you want it

Go and get it, you can have it Mrs. Postman

That's alright

Can we spark it? Effervescence, let the flame burn Mrs. Postman

Right on

When it rains just know that every little thing is alright

All the same, I know that everything will be right on time

as the weeks went by, you realized that Jackson wasn't such a bad place.

The people were nice, it was a safe area. The Postlady is really hot. Things were looking up.

You found yourself waking up earlier in the morning, just to make yourself look prettier. You would sweep your front porch daily, to make sure that Abby would come to a clean place. You found yourself baking cookies, and giving it to her every morning.

What was happening to you?

Even when you didn't have any mail, Abby always made a turn at your place. Her visits always made you feel special.

The days Abby didn't come, you always felt the lack of her presence. She'd become a part of you routine. She's become a part of you.

Over time you learned small facts about the blonde.

Her dad was a surgeon, she had one dog, her favorite color is blue, she works 5 days a week, and she's trying to get into college.

You could say the two of you had established a friendship.

You saw whatever you had as more than that. You guys weren't a friendship in your eyes. You felt that there was more.

Your crush on Abby grew by the second, every interaction, every smile and giggle she let out had an effect on you.

god you were down bad for your fucking Postwoman.

Today was like no other.

You woke up, took a showers and you put on brand new blue sundress you bought to hope fully catch Abby's eye.

You sat in your living room, staring at the clock, counting down the seconds of Abby's arrival.

You heard a knock at your door, and you jumped up, cleaning your throat as you walked towards the door. You took a deep breath as you opened the door and you were met with Abby's smiling face.

You saw her eyes wonder down your body as she looked at your outfit.

She thought you looked fucking beautiful.

"Hi Abby" you muttered shyly.

Your eyes met as, and you felt a spark.

"Hi" Abby smiled.

"Do I have mail?" you asked.

"Yeah a letter" Abby handed it to you.

You thanked her and the two of you stood there for a while.

"Aren't you supposed to go Abby?" You asked unsure of why she still stood there.

"Open it"

with a raised eyebrow you opened the letter.

The page was complete white, but in the middle of the page there was some words written in black ink.

Will you go on a date with me?

From your favorite postwoman

Abby <3

You looked up at her with eyes wide, and she awkwardly brought her hand up to scratch the back of her neck.

"So?" She asked unsure.

She looked terrified.

"Fuck yes" You breathed before you leaped forward bringing her in for a hug. You gave her a kiss on a cheek as you pulled away, her face was red.

You made her so fucking nervous.

"Can we go out tonight?" Abby looked at you with a hopeful smile.

"See you tonight ms postman"

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Ford Lynx Concept, 1996, by Ghia. Designed by Gary Braddock and based on the Fiesta platform, the Lynx was developed into the production Ford Puma Coupé (which had roof).  

[jtl-fics]

Hello my love can I get a peek at the new ww option 👀👀 thank youuu

WIP Wednesday 4/17/24 | TBD

He thinks about a fourth thing that isn’t the worst as he gets to the stage when he hears someone mention the Puma’s recent championship. He didn’t give a single shit about the MVP status or the trophy that everyone had been insistent that he hoist, what he did give a shit about was Kevin’s face when Andrew locked down the goal.

Kevin had been so confident coming into the match that he’d be hefting the trophy above his head and Andrew took great pleasure in denying him that. A 0-1 championship game seems boring on paper but based on everything he’s heard from everyone in his life that gives a shit about the sport, it was riveting.

Andrew just remembers having to wring out his socks from the sweat afterwards.

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[camuflajesims]

CAMUFLAJE - PUMA Male Set (PATREON)

Sweatpants :

* New mesh

* Compatible with the base game

* HQ

* All LODs (I recommend using it on very high settings)

* Total 10 Swatches

Sweatshirt  :

* New mesh

* Compatible with the base game

* HQ

* All LODs (I recommend using it on very high settings)

* Total 17 Swatches (Color Combos)

** Early Access **

PATREON LINK (DOWNLOAD)

INSTAGRAM LINK

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Favorite New Manga and Graphic Novels I Read in 2023

It's time to take a look at the comics and manga I read this year! I read  a whopping 78 manga and graphic novels in all. Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.

I also read 36 novels! If you want to see my favorites, check out my reviews here!

And finally, I've got the continuing manga series I've enjoyed this year here, so check that post out too!

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen

This is a tale about a first-generation Vietnamese-American boy struggling with coming out to his mother. He connects with his mother through fairytales-- she uses them to express her journey as an immigrant, and he uses them to explore his queerness and identity as a Vietnamese kid growing up in America. It's an absolutely gorgeous book full of Trung Le Nguyen's signature stunning art. The fantastical, ethereal fairy tales are weaved beautifully into the lives of the characters. The book explores how fairy tales can form connection, can express culture, can tap deeply into something real and true, and can offer tragedy and catharsis. The protagonist uses fairy tales to write his own story, and the ending is lovely and moving.

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles by Mark Russell and Mike Feehan

You may know Mark Russell from his darker, socially aware re-imagining of the Flintstones, which made quite a splash on Tumblr with this post. Well, I had pleasure of meeting him at a local convention, and I finally got his comic re-imagining of Snagglepuss, also of Hanna-Barbera. He re-imagines the titular pink puma as a closeted gay playwright in the 50's dealing with McCarthyism. It's as wild as it sounds,but also really digs into the politics of the time, the struggle of standing against oppression and how art fights through suppression and censorship. It's tragic, hopeful, poignant and full of historical references. I enjoyed it ! Definitely be cautious if you're deeply disturbed by homophobia and suicide.

The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumokuren

A story about a teenage boy, Yoshiki, who realizes that his best friend and crush Hikaru has died and been replaced by a strange eldritch being who is imitating him. But, missing his loved one and desperate to cling to any piece of him, Yoshiki decides to keep on having a relationship with this mysterious entity. This book's horror is visceral and sublime, especially the bizarre, creepy, beautiful body horror involving the being who replaced Hikaru. It's an exploration of anxieties involving grief, relationships, and sexuality that hits just right, and the atmosphere layered with dread is top notch. I love me some messed up relationships and unknowable queer monsters, and this book delivers.

Chainsaw Man, Look Back and Goodbye Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Chainsaw Man needs no introduction, but I did end up really enjoying the story of the doggy-devil boy hunting other devils. It got so tragic and intense at the end, with lots of great surreal horror imagery and darkly funny moments. I'm impressed it went so hard, though the random powers that kept piling up made what was happening hard to follow at times, especially in fights. I'm also enjoying the current weird arc starring a class-A disaster girl and the demon sharing her body.

Look Back

I really do enjoy how Fuijimoto writes messy pre-teen/teenage girls. They ring so true. The manga follows the fraught friendship between two girls as they create manga, exploring the struggle of art mixing with real relationships, and how someone keeps creating after tragedy. It's a little hard to follow at times (especially since I have to differentiate the leads based on hairstyle), but it's a good read.

Goodbye Eri

Probably my least favorite of the three, but it's a fun read- a weird ride that examines the thin line between fiction and reality in art and makes good use of Fujimoto's cinephile background and signature gaslight gatekeep girlboss characters.

Is Love the Answer? by Uta Isaki

The story follows a teenage girl, Chika, who has always struggled with not being attracted to anyone. When Chika enters college, she meets queer people all across the spectrum of asexuality, and starts exploring her own identity. As an ace, this is the best story about asexuality that I've read. It was a nuanced look at asexuality and queerness and all the variations. Chika's journey and how she found her community was moving and poignant. It's a honest, moving look at relationships and identity, and how complicated and hard to define both of those things can be. I loved the moments of Chika imagining herself as an alien to explore and cope, and how she bonded with people through magical girl shows and other geekery. My favorite new manga of the year, it really connected with me!

The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi

Oh girl, I've been there. This is a fun autobiographical comic about a butch4butch lesbian's struggles finding a partner in a word that favors butch/femme, and it's just an honest look at the messiness of loneliness and relationships. I also appreciate that crushing on Haruka in Sailor Moon and becoming a HaruMichi stan was the beginning the author's queer awakening because uh...same! She has taste, and is truly relatable.

Qualia the Purple: The Complete Manga Collection by Hisamitsu Ueo and Shirou Tsunashima

See my review of the light novel here for my general thoughts on the story, since it's adapted pretty faithfully. I do think the manga is overall the best experience though, because the illustrations break up the detailed explanations of quantum mechanics a bit, and it includes a bit of extra content that fleshes things out, especially withthe ending.

The Single Life: 60 year old lesbian who is single and living alone by Akiko Morishima

Just like it says on the tin, this focuses on a 60-year-old single lesbian. And definitely the shortest thing on here, since only one 30 page chapter is out.  It's a grounded story about a woman looking back on her journey to finding her identity, touching on sexism in the workplace and other challenges. It paints a portrait of a proudly gay elder who's still perfectly content being single and feels fulfilled by the life she had rather than regretting past relationships. I definitely want to see more.

Daemons of the Shadow Realm by Hiromu Arakawa

Arakawa's latest, the story is about a boy who lives in a small village with his little sister is imprisoned and has to carry out a mysterious duty...but then the village is attacked, supernatural daemons awaken, and everything he knows might be wrong. I'm enjoying this fun romp so far! It delivers an really nice plot twist right out the gate (and an excellent subversion of the usual shonen "must-protect-my-saintly-sister" narratives). It boasts Arakawa's usual fun cast and interesting world (and cool ladies). There's some slight tone and pacing issues in the first part- there's so much time spent explaining mechanics the lead doesn't really get to react to his life turning upside down. But it starts smoothing out by the second volume. I'm excited to see what's next!

Superman: Space Age by Mark Russell and Michael Allred

This is a retelling of Superman set throughout the late fifties to early eighties that has Superman interact with the political and social upheaval of the time and question his own role in things. It explored the Superman mythos through a lot of cool new angles, and has a good Lois (why yes she would break Watergate) which is how I always measure a Superman adaptation. My one complaint is, while I liked some of the things it did with Batman, the ending with the Joker was pretty weak. The ending of the overall comic will also be bizarre for anyone not uses to how weird comics can get, but I think I dug it.

#DRCL by Shin'ichi Sakamoto

A manga retelling of Dracula that focuses on Mina as the protagonist and imagines the characters at an English prep school. It adds a lot of  diversity to the characters  and has exquisite, evocative art. I'm curious where it will go and what it  intends to do with all it's changes (especially Lucy), because right now it's mostly vibes and creepiness and the direction isn't clear.