#ranges from exactly 55 words

[cazzyf1]

Mon Ami Mate - The Tragic life of Britain's First Formula One World Champion Mike Hawthorn - Essay

If you haven't read my published dissertation on Mike Hawthorn already, check it out with this link. This essay examines what I have written about in-depth, discusses the context, and lists my sources.

Word Count: 3.8k

Estimated Reading Time: 15 minutes

Context: Over a year ago, I needed to come up with an idea about what I wanted to do for my dissertation. I knew that I wanted to write about a classic f1 driver because the history had been my passion for a long time. Still, I knew I couldn't write about Niki Lauda or James Hunt because I already knew so much about them, and I wanted to start not knowing anything so that all the research was a part of my dissertation. I recently brought the book 'Life at the Limit' about Phil Hill and Wolfgang von Trips, but it features Mike Hawthorn. I decided to look more into him, curious to learn about Britain's first world champion. After learning about how tragic his life was, I knew I wanted to know more about him and write it for my dissertation. As I study creative & professional writing, I decided to write my actual dissertation as if it were a story to make use of my creative writing skills. This makes it easier for the audience to read - but I decided to write this essay as well, giving context to what I have written and some more information for those wanting to know more about Mike.

The dissertation starts directly after the Le Mans 55 incident took place. As Mike Hawthorn was in front of it, he only glimpsed what had happened, and it would still be a while after the accident that it was known just how many people had been injured and killed. I wanted to show Mike's confusion and panic, knowing something bad had happened that he had been involved in but not knowing how bad, by starting off directly in the chaos. In terms of the actual crash, my views are that the main fault was down to the Le Man's layout, which did not accommodate space for the drivers, especially when they needed to come into the pits; however, Mike did make the mistake in trying to get ahead of Fangio and come into the pits early, and Lance Macklin made the mistake of only starting to break last minute and not checking to swerve out into the path of Levegh. However, all of this could have been prevented if there had been more consideration and care for public safety alongside the tracks, which sadly would not have become a priority for a long time in the racing industry.

'Wasn't this the jaguar pit? No. Where was he?' - When Mike first came into the pits, he didn't pull into his section in the panic, though he had left the car. Therefore, he was made to complete another lap for his team not to be disqualified, meaning he would have had to drive past the accident again. 'He tasted bitter in his mouth as he remembered last night when they had a drink.'- in the book 'Mon Ami Mate' it says that the drivers, including Mike and Levegh, had been drinking the night before together and that Levegh had complained about the track not being wide enough to support the cars.

'Lofty glanced around and saw Duncan Hamilton approaching, who had swapped with his teammate a few laps before.' - Duncan Hamilton was one of Mike Hawthorn's closest friends, and they both raced for the Jaguar team at Le Mans, though not as teammates. Duncan had been waving to some people across the track in the pits as he waited to switch with his teammate when the crash happened. Mike was in a state of panic, traumatised, and so Duncan pulled Mike to the side and, as Mike says, 'spoke to him like a father' to try and calm Mike down. There has been some confusion about exactly who Mike had spoken to as accounts ranged from Duncan to Rob Walker, so when I contacted an expert on Mike, Nigel Webb, I was able to find out that Mike spoke to Duncan first, then found Lance Macklin and apologised to him crying (this I cut from my dissertation) before then walking around to the back of the pits to hide in Rob Walker caravan.

Parts I cut out from my dissertation that happened was that mechanics from other teams, including the Mercedes team, went and found Mike and told him it wasn't his fault. Even drivers, such as Stirling Moss, went and found Mike to talk to him and tell him it wasn't his fault (the newspapers said Stirling softly reassured Mike). After Mike had apologised to Lance Macklin and ended up in Rob Walker's caravan, it's alleged in a newspaper report I read that a commentator on the loudspeaker was saying it was all Mike's fault and blaming him, which Mike would have been able to hear from the caravan.

Context - the race was not stopped because it was believed that if the race stopped, the ambulances wouldn't be able to reach the patients with all the crowds leaving the tracks, so the race carried on as usual while the ambulances treated people and took the bodies away.

“Now, would you truly do that to your father, Mike? He gave everything for you to be a racing driver. He may not be around to see you win, but you would make him proud. You can’t give up now.” - A year and a few days before the 1955 crash, in 1954, Mike's dad had died in a car crash coming back from Goodwood. Mike was in Paris travelling to race in Le Mans. This would have been his first race in a while as he had been in hospital recovering from severe burns to his legs. However, while he was travelling to Le Mans, he got news of the crash and desperately tried to get back home to his dad, but his dad died before Mike could get back. This might explain why it was important for Mike to do well in this race after what happened last year.

“I’m not going to drive again, Lofty,” Mike said, avoiding eye contact. Nevertheless, Lofty’s eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. - After Mike's father had died, Lofty England became a father figure to Mike. Lofty said himself that he viewed Mike like a son. They were very close, so Mike would naturally listen to what Lofty told him. And Lofty's opinion was that Mike needed to continue racing to distract his mind. So Mike listened to him and continued racing, although he had said before that he wouldn't continue.

'Mike looked over to the BBC TV interviewer, Rudolf Whlenhaunt and nodded.' - In the book mon ami mate, it is mentioned that Mike Hawthorn had an interview with the BBC and this interviewer about the Le Mans incident. However, no record of this interview is out on the Internet so I had to imagine what might have been said for this scene.

“You’ve been quite controversial in the newspapers as of late, Mike; many of our British civilians aren’t happy at you avoiding your national service. What do you have to say about that?” - Mike had been under scrutiny by the public, press and even the House of Commons the last few years because he had not done his national service. National service was completing a certain amount of time in the forces as part of your duty. The press had discovered Mike hadn't done this yet and felt that Mike was trying to get out of it and so lead a big campaign against him. Mike Hawthorn had filled out an application to apply for the RAF, but when his chronic kidney issues were discovered, and one had to be taken out, he was disqualified from national service. If his chronic illness was made public, Mike risked not being allowed to race anymore. So he made sure it wasn't public knowledge, which meant he had to bear the burden of the public, thinking he was skipping his national service instead of knowing the actual reason.

“It’s true that a policeman came to your door on the day of your father’s funeral, isn’t it?” - Mike Hawthorn often had a habit of speeding when driving around on normal roads and would get fines that he paid off. On the day of his father's funeral, there was a big fuss in the newspaper about his national service, and a police officer came knocking at Mike's door about paying speeding fines. To which Mike slammed the door in his face.

“The Germans and French want to blame me!" - In the aftermath of Le Mans there was a lot of blame placed on Mike, especially from Germany and France. Germany because it was a Mercedes driver that had been killed and then subsequently Mercedes pulled out of motorsports, and France because it's where Le Mans is.

“If I was to die in an accident, would you identify my body?” he asked quietly, glancing at Duncan.' - This was an actual pact that Mike and Duncan made. Mike's mother hated anything to do with motorsports especially after his dad had died so Mike wanted to make sure she didn't have to identity his body if he did die racing, and Duncan had similar views with his own mother.

'Next to Peter, sulking in his seat with crossed arms, was Luigi Musso, the only Italian Ferrari driver currently on the team.' - I originally also had Phil Hill and Wolfgang von Trips involved in this meeting, but in the end cut it down to Peter and Luigi just being there. I wanted to address Mike's issues with Germans and how that ultimately lead to his death, and use his friendship with Wolfgang von Trips as a key point in it, but unfortunately I didn't have enough of a word count to go into this so I had to cut them out. I had to include Luigi though but unfortunately I couldn't write as much about him as I wanted to because of the word count so he only has a really small part in the dissertation.

“Do wish your mother well on mine and Louise’s behalf, won’t you? We have meant to come down to visit her and the garage.” - Some fans of Mike and Peter try to claim that they weren't as close as people make them out to be simply because there was no record of Peter ever visiting Mike's garage. But personally, I see that simply as they were both busy people who didn't have lots of time outside of f1 and with time, Peter definitely would have visited and spent time with Mike if they had lived.

“She’ll be happy with that, yet frankly, I think she finds running the garage tough without father, even with Bill’s help. Though I’ve been considering moving to a cottage nearby with Jean when I propose to her.” - Bill was one of the main workers of the garage who helped run it after Mike's father died and then after Mike had died. Throughout Mike's adulthood, he still lived at home with his mum at their cottage. He had viewed a cottage he planned to buy near his mum's place and the garage, which was a place for him to settle with his fiance. Sadly, they would never get this place, much like Peter and Louise, with the house they planned to buy.

“Not all of us can charm him into accepting us as family,” Luigi added, his eyes fixated on Peter, who frowned.' - Peter Collins became good friends with Enzo Ferrari's dying son, Dino Ferrari. When Dino passed away, Enzo started focusing his fatherly affections on Peter. However, when Peter quickly married Louise, it was said Enzo wasn't happy, seeing it as distracting Peter.

'Louise Collins was an American actress comparable to Marilyn Monroe.' - Louise did actually meet Marilyn Monroe.

“I’ve just run him a bath; he’ll be getting in in a few minutes,” Louise said, watching Mike with surprise as he walked past her and into the bathroom.' This didn't happen in 1958, but in 1957, there was another friend in the bathroom as well as Mike and Peter, but I included this part in 1958 between just Mike and Peter to build up their friendship.

'Farnham was Mike’s home, and his favourite pub in the area was ‘The Barley Mow’.' - This pub I have visited before, and it has photographs of Mike Hawthorn up on its walls. My dissertation tutor suggested that I write about Mike being confronted by a member of the public to show the general attitude, which is where this scene comes from.

'Yet Mike felt frozen as he stared at the now blood-tinted urinal.' - As Mike’s chronic illness got worse, so did his symptoms. Blood in urine would have started becoming common for Mike, along with a large stabbing pain where his kidney is. Some days were worse than others for Mike Hawthorn. During the 1958 British GP, they weren't sure if Mike could race as he was in much pain. Occasionally, his housekeeper would find Mike lying on the floor in pain, unable to move. He also started developing a moon face condition where his cheeks swell up. His doctor predicted that at the time of Mike's death, he only had four years of life left and, near the end, would have been wheelchair-bound.

“I can’t; she might bring him around here again. She did last year,” Mike muttered.' - a few years previously, in 1953, Mike had a one-night stand with a lady after he had won the French GP. He didn't think of anything till later when he got a letter from her saying that she was pregnant with his child. Mike found it hard to believe as it was one time and felt that it was someone trying to scam him. However, in 1957, at the French GP, he suddenly spotted a child dressed in white trousers and a green jacket with bright blonde hair just like his. She had dressed the kid up just like him so Mike would see. Mike met up with her and the boy and agreed to help pay child support for him, but Mike wasn't heavily involved with the boy. In the 90s, Chris Nixon, the author of Mon Ami Mate, was able to track down Mike's son, Arnaud Michael Delaunay, and talk to him. For a little while, Arnaud had some involvement in the scene, turning up to events, but eventually, he decided he didn't want to anymore, and other fans of Mike have tried to get in contact with him but haven't been successful.

“Of course, mon ami mate. You don’t need to ask. It’s our deal, and it will stay our deal,” - Mike and Peter did have a deal at some races to put their money together to share. People claim that Luigi Musso felt quite alienated from the team, as he wasn't involved in this.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t. We need the money as much as you do,” Mike told Luigi, with Peter slowly nodding.' - Luigi had asked them to help with money because he owed a lot of money in debt and had been rumored if he didn't get the money from this race he would be in trouble, but Mike also needed the money to put towards the child support. The French GP had one of the highest money prizes for first place so lots of drivers wanted that spot.

'When they reached the hospital, Ferrari team leader Romolo Tavoni was outside. His eyes were red and puffy, and in a flat voice, he told them that Luigi Musso had died.' - It was actually a friend who told them Luigi had died because when Romolo found out, he fainted and so was put in a hospital bed. I didn't have the word count to include this next bit, but Afterwards, Mike and Peter went back to the hotel, and eventually, someone suggested they go out and celebrate Mike's win instead of sitting around feeling depressed about Luigi, though they were all affected by his death. Luigi's girlfriend got back from the hospital and saw Mike and Peter kicking a can around like a football; she felt lots of rage, thinking they didn't care, and spat curses at them. This, therefore, created an impression that Mike and Peter never cared for Luigi, which wasn't the case; they just weren't as close to him as they were to each other, and sometimes their British humour in teasing could come off as rude.

'Mike, Peter, and Louise were relaxing in a hotel room.' - Mike often would wander into Peter and Louise’s hotel room and spend the day with them at the races. His partner Jean was often away modelling, and his mother never went to the races, so unless his friends from home were visiting, he'd either be with Peter and Louise or hanging out with other friends from the track, usually at a pub or nightclub.

‘He is the one that won’t die,’ Mike thought as he observed Peter's peaceful appearance.' - Mike wrote in his autobiography that on the day Peter had passed away, Mike had gone into Peter's room, looked at him, then thought that, then accidentally woke Peter up.

'A few other drivers came in and out, offering help to Peter on his puzzle, but he turned them all down. He was determined to finish this himself.' - Mike says in his book Peter was working on the puzzle all morning, and Mike remarks that he was happy Peter was able to finish it before he passed away.

'Mike ran over to the marshalls desperately' - It took a while for the news to come through, in that time, some german offered Mike some orange juice and tried to calm him down. There was a lot of confusion about what had happened.

'Travoni was doing his best to comfort Louise' - When Louise arrived at the hospital, a phone call from her dad was waiting for her. With his connections, he could find out first that Peter had died, and he wanted to be the one to break the news to Louise. Louise went to see the body but all she could manage was seeing the feet sticking out from under the sheet before she had to leave.

'Mike was vaguely aware Tavoni was watching him.' - Mon Ami Mate reveals that Tavoni saw Mike collapse on the wall and slide to the ground after seeing Peter.

'But the journalists had been waiting for a moment to pounce' - The interview with Mike talking about the crash and Peter is from this moment, where he had to give an interview at the airport before taking Louise to Peter's parents. I used parts of that interview and made up some of my own parts as the full interview is not available on the internet.

'"Dam silly of me" He muttered' - In the book, mon ami mate, it states that Mike said this and started breaking down as he spoke, having to use a handkerchief to rub the tears away.

'Like Peter, Stirling was a gentleman' - At one point, Mike had spun out and tried to push the car back onto the track but was pushing it the wrong way. As Stirling was driving past, he saw and shouted at Mike to go the other way so he could get back on track. Later on, Mike was called in by the stewards and was going to be disqualified because they thought he had left the track and cheated by going a different route to get back on, but Stirling went to the meeting and explained that Mike had done the right thing. If Stirling hadn't done this, he would have been the world champion, but Stirling never regretted this because he saw it was the sportsman thing to do to explain Mike was in the right.

'A telegram to Miss Louise Collins' - By this point Louise was in America performing in a play. She needed to do something to distract herself from what had happened. When I went around the Peter Collins exhibit, I saw Mike's telegram and knew I had to include it in my dissertation.

'Mike felt awful. He had woken up in a sweat' - His housekeeper said on the day of his death, Mike had been lying on the floor in pain from his kidney. It was one of his bad days.

'He had told Louise he would drive up to London to see her' - This wasn't the only reason he was going to London that day. He had plans to meet Louise and chat with her, but he was also going to London to sort out financial support for his son as he had plans to marry his fiance and needed to sort out arrangements for his illegitimate son.

'Mike stopped into one of his main pub's and found Duncan Hamilton sitting at a bar' - Mike didn't actually see Duncan in the morning but he had plans to see Duncan later on in the day. But Duncan was in a pub nearby where the crash happened. So he found out quickly, got to the site just after Mike's body had left. He grabbed a few belongings, such as Mike's flat cap from the crash and then went to the hospital to identify Mike's body as he had promised Mike. He described it as one of the hardest days of his life. Duncan Hamilton retired from racing right after.

'I will show him the Jaguar, which is clearly the better car' - When Mike's death was first reported, Rob Walker denied they were racing. He had to go to court and say they were not racing. There was a lot of speculation on why Mike crashed for a long time. To this day, Mike's fiance believes he had a blackout, and so does Mike Hawthorn expert Nigel Webb. There were other theories put out that the rain caused him to spin or even that someone had assassinated him with a rifle. A long time later, Rob Walker did come out and say that they had been racing, but he had been told to deny it to protect himself. A worker who saw Mike leave a pub right before the crash says Mike was running out to race Rob when he saw the Mercedes. So I chose to mix the two most believable theories for his crash, that he was racing Rob Walker but had a blackout during it, which caused Mike to crash.

Books I read for information:

Challenge me the race - Mike Hawthorn

Champion Year - Mike Hawthorn

The Limit: Life and Death on the 1961 Grand Prix Circuit - Michael Cannell

One Glorious Hour - Don Shaw

Mike Hawthorn: Golden Boy - Paul Skilleter & Tony Bailey

Mon Ami Mate - Chris Nixon

Touch Wood - The Autobiography of the 1953 Le Mans Winner - Duncan Hamilton & Chris Evans

Peter Collins: All about the boy - Ed McDonough

Also, see the Mike Hawthorn tribute website for lots of information

If you have questions about Mike Hawthorn, my dissertation or just want to know more, send me an ask, and I'll get back to you! <3

[liannelara-dracula]

Hey, sweetie!

How old you think are the sakamaki, mukami and tsukinami? i have seen lots of posts and all says different things from each othe, i'm really confused--

Hi Love,

This is a really good question. Its something I've always wondered and have been struggling to answer but I will do my best. A while ago I did some extreme math to calculate their age which I will say, I do not recommend such torture to anyone. Plus, I completely forgot the logic behind the formulas so whelp to that. And I think I am either correct or Rejet is inconsistent with their ideas. Either case, something is off and I'll do my best to explain what I think their age range is.

-Liannelara

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

Warning:

*certain words have been censored for Tumblr guidelines.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Okay so as I'm sure most of us know, we are aware of their physical age but when it comes to their actual age its tough to say but there are some estimates that could pinpoint a rough estimate as to how old they are.

For example. in one of the drama CDs I believe Reiji was the one who explained to Yui that the mansion that we see in the anime was given to them back in the 18th century? or was it 1800s? I can't remember overall it was a long time ago. And whichever it was they were all grown up to live there on their own as a family. This means for over 200+ years they have looked like teenagers!

The Tsukinami's age also helps us determine the Sakamaki's age. In the Young Blood manga, you can notice that Carla looks just as old as he looks now, and this is when the Sakamaki's were only children. So he and Shin are fairly old. Plus it was stated that they were trapped for thousands of years, so they are old considering that they had some business with their father.

If we also look at Beatrix's attire that Rejet gave her, it is a style that leans more toward the 15-1600s and her children where very young at the time. Of course these years are somewhat misleading because if you think of it, that dress is probably from the demon world so their way of doing things hardly changes. So there is a chance that the attire doesn't greatly respect the time.

However! In another drama CD when the boys were asked about their age Shu said he couldn't remember how old he was exactly but that he was roughly in his early 1,000s. Reiji, Laito, and I believe it was also Kanto who admitted that they were several of 100s of years old. (This was all on the CD which of course I don't remember which one.)

So having said this I've dug far deep to give a good estimate on all this so here it is:

Sakamaki

Shu:

1,051.

Idk why but this exact number is what I always think of when I see him.

Although in terms of range it would be 1,030-1,080.

Reiji:

932-986

he's approaching 1,000 real soon.

Laito:

743-870

Kanato:

720-850

Ayato:

715-820

I know they are triplets and they were born on the same day, but it's hard to picture they're all the same age. So I gave each a different range for each one because I don't know what to pick, but for them I would say the range is roughly : 715-870

Subaru:

660-700

Kino:

I always feel like he was older but it turns out he's younger than Shu?

890-950

Mukami

Now considering that Shu met "young" Yuma or "edgar" in this case, centuries later, it shows how slowly purebloods age and just how fast a turned vampires age, so while the Mukamis look to be the same age as the Sakamakis they're actually younger.

I know the Mukamis are psychically a year apart from each other but you know vampire aging works a little differently. Plus, we don't know how much they really are I'm just going by what age range I see on them.

Ruki

He is old and was probably born in 1500-1700s, as much as I want to say 1800s but we know it's not accurate.

Now idk why but I feel like he was born in the year 1570. (It just sounds right lol)

So for age wise its 518-640

Yuma

He's younger than Kou and it's just so hard to believe.

He's probably 460-580

Kou

500-620

Azusa

440-550

I could see him being in his mid 400s

Tsukinami

Oh my, they are very old.

And I'm just going to say it, they do not look like teens. I always felt that they looked like they were in their 20s. Honestly all of them look like their in there 20s.

But anyways, lets keep in mind that Carla looks exactly the same as he does now when the Sakamaks were kids. (This was in the young blood manga btw).

(also please let me know if I'm wrong about my facts so just let me know.)

anyways I feel like they are quite old and over a thousand. they said he was trapped for thousands of years so they are really old.

Carla

5,018-5,480

Shin

3,080-4,660

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[phillycheesesteakcore]

Blood // Water

CONTAINS SEASON 1 SPOILERS!

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in the days following the Doodler's release, there are those who would use the chaos for their own gain, but Henry Oak and his friends and family aren't going to let that happen

content warnings: none that I'm aware of, if there's anything I missed please let me know!

author's note: I was supposed to finish and post this a while ago, life got in the way, sorry guys. Based vaguely on this.

The days following the Doodler’s release were absolute chaos. As reality seemed to collapse upon itself again and again, people turned to who they thought they could for help, guidance, anything. Religious leaders, government personnel and the like were hounded by the masses, masses who were every bit as terrified and confused as they were.

There were of course those who knew exactly what was going on. A small group of families; the Wilsons, the Oak-Garcias, the Stamplers, and the Foster-Closes, newly returned from an adventure of their own. They’d immediately sprung into action, searching for answers in the arcane and mundane, puzzling a way to put the world back together the way it’d been before.

And there were, of course, those who looked at the world as it was; the turmoil, the discord, the agony, and saw it as cold, hard, gleaming opportunity. After all, who’d notice an extra lining in a wallet, what with the end of the world?

Henry sat slumped in a chair at the kitchen table, arms hanging limply by his side, staring mindlessly ahead at the muted television on the counter. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t felt this dull, pounding ache in is head. He knew he hadn’t slept in… more than just hours. Days? A week? Did it matter? He was hell for it either way. He knew he should rest; knew he just wasn’t useful to anyone like this. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lay his head to sleep peacefully while the world burned outside his window. Not when it was his fault, not when he could’ve done something to stop–

He shook his head, wincing slightly at the pang of pain the movement caused. He couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t helpful. And it’s not true, Mercedes’ voice rang in his head. Henry smiled. She was right, he knew. Rubbing his eyes, he looked blearily at the time displayed in the corner of the news crawl on the tv. 5:55 am. Still staring ahead, he wondered if he should even bother trying to get to bed. The boys would probably be up soon anyways. Henry sighed. He knew he should talk to them. Really talk, not just the shallow tip-toeing they’d done around the issue. Ask why they’d–

Something on the tv caught Henry’s attention. “Klax Korp To Move Ahead with Construction Project” crawled along the bottom of the screen. That couldn’t be right. Henry closed his eyes, trying to concentrate through his headache. Before the… end of the world, Klax Korp had started construction on a new manufacturing site just north of town. But it’d been discovered that there weren’t accommodations in the site plans for proper waste disposal, and that in all likelihood the waste would just being dumped into the river, poisoning the ecosystem of the entire river valley. Henry and Mercedes had organized a very successful protest, halting construction, and eventually an official statement was released from Klax Korp, saying that construction would not resume until a proper solution was found. That’d been barely ten days ago, just before the release of the Doodler, there’s no way they could’ve possibly come up with a feasible solution in such a short time. Proper planning and enacting would take several months at the very least.

Unless of course, they had no intention of making any such changes. Doing so would cost a lot of money, and Klax Korp had proven again and again they were willing to cut any corners to avoid that. The chaos of the Doodler’s release was the perfect time to quietly go ahead with their plans. Henry dragged himself out of his chair, swooning slightly as he did so. He really needed to get some sleep. He knew what he had to do now, and to do it properly he’d need rest. But at least now he had something he could do.

Darryl was just getting out of the Honda Odyssey when Ron’s car drove up and parked at the end of the Oak-Garcia’s driveway. He waited for Ron to join him and they walked together up the short stone pathway to the front door.

“D’you know what this is all about?” Darryl asked, “It didn’t sound like Doodler stuff over the phone.”

Ron just shook his head and shrugged.

“I guess we’ll find out inside.” Darryl said, ringing the doorbell.

“It’s open!” Glenn’s muffled voice came from inside. Pushing open the door, Ron and Darryl found the Oak-Garcia household in its usual state of charming chaos. Weaving between the toys strewn on the floor, creative art pieces yet to find their rightful place, and various rocks taking up more space than they really should, the dads found Glenn posted up in the kitchen over a tray of Mercedes’ oatmeal raisin coconut cookies. He pushed the tray in their direction as they approached.

“They’re better than you’d think,” he said, mouth full, sending crumbs flying. Ron took one.

“Where’s Henry?” Darryl asked, taking one himself.

“Right here!” Henry called, coming down the stairs. “Sorry about the mess, it’s been a weird couple of days.”

“It’s fine, we get it.” Darryl said.

“You look less terrible.” Ron said.

“Thank you, Ron,” Henry said appreciatively, knowing he meant no harm, “I actually got a couple of hours of sleep today if you can believe it.”

“Hey good on you man,” Glenn said, clapping him on the shoulder, “So what’s up?”

Henry sighed, preparing himself. He told them about what he’d seen on the news, and what he figured Klax Korp were trying to do under the radar. “I know this sort of thing isn’t really in you guys’ wheelhouse, and that it may sound like a whole load of phooey to you. And I know we have way bigger fish to fry right now, with the Doodler and everything. But if stuff like this gets ignored, even if we do manage to fix things, we might end up in a world much worse for wear than it really should’ve been.”

“Yeah, man. Screw the corporations.” Glenn said. “So what’s the plan. We blowing this place sky high or?”

“What? No!” Henry gasped. “This isn’t Faerun, we can’t just go around blowing things up. And honestly, we shouldn’t have been doing it there either.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Darryl asked.

“I wanted you guys to come to a protest with me.” Henry said. “There was a group of people Mercedes and I organized with the last time, but a lot of them were put out of commission what with the end of the world and all. The group is much smaller than it used to be, and there’s strength in numbers. The more of us there are, the bigger the disruption, the more of an impact we have the potential to make. If you knew anyone you could invite to come as well that’s be a big help.”

The dads all looked at each other, and then back at Henry, nodding.

“Yeah, we’d love to help.”

“Absolutely,”

“Cool,”

The next few days were a blur. Signs were made, scheduling was done, friends were enlisted. Most of the families of the other kids from the soccer team agreed to come, many of Carol, Morgan, and Samantha’s coworkers did too. Glenn reached out to his fans on social media, and word spread fast.

The first few days were incredible. A couple dozen people each day, making quite a racket at the gates of the construction site. A local news van even showed up to report on it. But it wasn’t enough, and soon the numbers started dwindling.

The dads were gathered at the Wilson residence after another protest with paltry attendance, snacking on Darryl’s homemade brownies.

“Alright team, let’s debrief,” Darryl said, handing out glasses of raspberry lemonade.

“Look guys I’m sorry,” Henry said, “I know things started out great, but at this point I feel like I’m wasting all of your time.”

“Nah man it’s cool.” Glenn said. “It’s a good thing you’re trying to do. We just need to get the word out better.”

“But how?” Ron asked. “We’ve asked pretty much everyone we know, and you’ve asked a bunch of people you don’t know.”

“Hey,” Darryl said, “we’ll figure this out. We just need something new.”

“Yeah,” Glenn said, “maybe we don’t need more people, maybe we just need to be more disruptive. We need to come up with something big, and fast. Isn’t there supposed to be a representative from Klax Korp coming in a few days? Whenever they’ll be there is the best time to make a decisive move.”

A silence fell over the group as they tried to puzzle it out.

“Man, it’s too bad we can’t get your dad to help us Henry,” Ron said after a moment.

“What– why?” Henry asked, bewildered.

“I mean, he convinced all those people in Oakvale to like not litter and stuff.” Ron replied. Henry thought about it for moment. He definitely didn’t want to enact the same kind of society Barry had. But in terms of being disruptive like Glenn said… there was a page out of his father’s book he could take. A grin spread on Henry’s face.

“I just had the best idea.”

Darryl called up his sister. If there was anyone who knew how to get what they’d need for Henry’s idea, it was her. She was happy to oblige and took Darryl to a workshop she knew where they made the product. They’d need something much bigger than the typical size and had to be custom made, but with a few favors called in from her, it’d be ready in a little over a week.

Ron was tasked with communicating the plan to the others that were still out protesting with them. The dads didn’t want to take them too much by surprise and have them all run away. It definitely took some convincing but somehow Ron got them to understand.

Glenn decided the most important element for their plan was the music. He and Henry spent days on end trying to find just the right song for what they had in mind. The night before the day of, Glenn texted Henry that he’d found the perfect one and to leave everything up to him.

The next morning, a bigger crowd was gathered at the gates of the Klax Korp construction site than had been for a long time. Security kept them from getting too close, but they were still all abuzz with anticipation. Even more news vans were there to cover the day. A sleek black car pulled up, and out stepped the Klax Korp rep. He made his way to the stage set up to speak, but the crowd just got louder drowning out anything he had to say.

And then they did quiet down a bit, listening to something faintly heard on the wind. A rhythmic thumping, like heavy feet on the ground. And with it a voice, Glenn’s voice.

Beg me for mercy, admit you were toxic

You poisoned me just for another dollar in your pocket

The thumping and singing got louder and closer, some people could even swear they felt the ground shake beneath their feet.

Now I am the violence, I am the sickness

Won’t accept your silence, beg me for forgiveness

And with that, a huge mass came barreling out of the forest. Even though they’d been warned ahead of time, the very sight of it made the crowd scream. A gargantuan Kodiak bear came running at full speed towards the gates of the Klax Korp construction site. Seated in a custom-made saddle designed for this huge beast was one Mercedes Oak-Garcia, face covered in what could only be described as war paint and screaming at the top of her lungs. On either side of the saddle hung a speaker blasting the sound of Glenn’s voice.

We’ll never get free, lamb to the slaughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?

Vines sprung up from the ground, parting the crowd in two as the beast came bearing down the middle. It went barreling up to the podium, knocking it and the Klax Korp representative over. The security scattered in all directions, leaving the rep pinned under the mighty paws of the bear.

The price of your greed, your son and your daughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?

“Tell your people,” Mercedes said down to him, “to fix their plans for this place. We will not have our home and our waters poisoned, is that understood?”

The rep nodded desperately, tears running down his face. The bear let up its paws and he fled back to his car, taking off in a cloud of dust away from the site.

I am the people

I am the storm

Mercedes turned the bear around and faced the crowd, looking from the protesters to the cameramen and reporters.

“There are those who would use this time of chaos for their own benefit, to the detriment of others,”

I am the riot

I am the swarm

“Rest assured you will be found out. Rest assured we will not let you quietly do so,”

When the last tree’s fallen

The animal can’t hide

Money won’t solve it

“The cruelty of using the cover of mayhem to ruin the lives of others is unforgiveable,”

What’s your alibi?

What’s your alibi?

What’s your alibi?

“We will not forgive. We will be there. And we will give you no peace.”

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the–

Blood in the water?

The bear reared up on its hind legs and roared, teeth bared, claws extended.

“Plot and plan knowing that we will never give you purchase to hurt this earth we share, not then and certainly not now.” And with that, the bear went running back into the woods, taking the wild woman and the music with him.

By the very next day, Klax Korp issued a new statement assuring the public that more serious endeavors would be made to ensure that no waste products from the manufacturing site would end up being dumped there. Mercedes clicked off the tv and gave Henry a kiss on the cheek.

“We did it, mi osito,” she said.

“I’m sure there’ll be others,” he replied.

“And I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it when there are.”

tagged: @lex-the-lesbiann @likelyscam @redistooviolent @i-am-the-egg @hrdwrkinqtpatoot @lunarrosette @dip-the-stick @chemicaleater @taylortheanimerangerteen @some-dragon-bastard

[hesnotsinging]

Adore You

TLDR: it's my personal belief that he started lip-syncing Adore You during the second show of the European leg of Love on Tour 2022 (Manchester Night 1) and has been doing it ever since. So, just to be clear, if he is lip-syncing this song, it's a very recent development.

I fully admit that this one is tricky and I could be wrong. Let me explain why: this is a song that I truly think Harry has a lot of trouble singing live as it was written and always has which isn't ideal as it's one of his most well-known songs. It's why he lowers parts of the majority verses and chorus an octave for most performances. He especially struggles with the ending of it in the current tour arrangement when he finally attempts to bring the chorus up to its original higher range. Realistically speaking, this could simply be a case of him singing the song enough times that he's now gotten the hang of the harder parts and doesn't struggle with it as much as he used to. Singing is like anything else, you do it enough, and you're going to improve in certain ways.

...but I'm still like, 99% sure he currently does not sing it live anymore.

The first thing I'm going to do is show you a video of him clearly lip-syncing it. It's his performance of the song at the 2022 Capital FM Summertime Ball and it's absolutely insane how mechanic his vocals sound here. If I'm right about when he started lip-syncing Adore You, this was one of the first times he did it. It'll also not only be a great reference for the rest of the videos in this post both actually live and fake but it's a great opportunity to tell you exactly what to look for when it comes to this song being lip-synced. Here it is:

A lot of it has to do with the fact that he never strays from the current arrangement. Ever. All performances of it sound exactly the same verbatim but there are some particular moments to look out for:

0:55 he never sings the 'you' to finish the phrase 'adore you' at the end of the chorus, just goes right into 'like it's the only thing I'll ever do.' While this could simply be a phrasing choice, the fact that he never sings it is interesting.

1:00 he never sings the second 'like it's the only thing I'll ever do' at the end of the first chorus.

1:30 the lyric 'I just want to tell you something' always sounds exactly the same with ascending notes.

1:35 he always does the riff at the end of 'baby you've been on my mind' during the word 'mind' and it always sounds the same.

1:58 This time, he sings the second 'like it's the only thing I'll ever do' and comes in late on the word 'only.' It always sounds like this. I'll give him and his team credit for this cause it's really clever. It seems he pre-recorded a line to start late so it sounds like he's singing it live.

2:20 I'd like to point out that his mic seems to randomly shut off here cause he says something but nothing comes out. The lyrics even seem to come out just fine but his cute-sy little "okay" is extremely quiet. Technical difficulties? Maybe but the arrangement of this section is always the same with or without his "okay" being loud. He always lets the audience sing 'just let me adore you' here.

2:42 the "hey" is one of the only things in this song that he does live anymore, at least as far as I can tell.

2:47 his little riff at the end of 'walk through fire for you' is always there and the ending is always the same, with no changes ever.

Just as a quick comparison, this is a video of him singing Adore You live at the Capital FM Jingle Bell Ball in 2019:

It's pretty obvious if you ask me.

As always, I'll be fair. Here are some actual live performances so you can tell the difference and again, you can watch as many or as few of these videos as you want:

SiriusXM 2020

Howard Stern 2020

Today Show Soundcheck 2020

Graham Norton 2019

From what I can tell, he sang this live during the entire American leg of LOT 2021. Here are some examples of that:

LOT Las Vegas 2021: this was the first show of his LOT tour, he also forgets words during it so it's absolutely live.

LOT Los Angeles 2021

LOT San Antonio 2021

LOT Glasgow 2022: This was the first show of the European leg 2022 and I honestly believe this is the last time he sang Adore You live on tour.

LOT Manchester 2022: (warning to headphone users!) Just based on what I've watched, I do believe this is the show when he started fully lip-syncing this song. After this, every performance of this starts sounding exactly the same.

LOT London 2022

LOT Stockholm 2022

LOT Hamburg 2022

LOT Vienna 2022

LOT New York 2022

LOT Austin Night 1 2022

LOT Los Angeles Harryween 2022

LOT Los Angeles Night 1 2022

LOT Buenos Aires 2022: as of writing this, this is one of his most recent performances of the song.

In conclusion, if he is lip-syncing it, he hasn't been doing it as long as TPWK which has been for the majority of Love on Tour.

[neostriatum]

Degrees of Freedom

[AO3] [Dreamwidth]

-

Marty thought, in the brief flash of light that warped his view of the Twin Pines Mall parking lot and his memory of Doc lying behind him, prone and silent and still, that he could almost hear the melody of the universe. See also: Holonomic constraints

-

He lived for music. Picking at his guitar, amp reverberating what pulsed through his veins down his fingertips, accompanied by nothing or anything, he felt connected to the world in a way that school or Jennifer had trouble reaching.

It was a testament to how many hours he had spent at Doc’s garage, jamming out mindlessly to the tune of clanging construction and letting his voice be carried along what the strings spoke to him, that even now, frantic and grieving, he instinctively puzzled over the sparking cues of the DeLorean as he sped toward eighty-eight miles an hour.

Marty thought, in the brief flash of light that warped his view of the Twin Pines Mall parking lot and his memory of Doc lying behind him, prone and silent and still, that he could almost hear the melody of the universe.

Later, when he had hopped time the way his fingers hopped the fret board and with equal urgency pumping his heart faster, he listened to Doc’s monologue of how the universe self-corrected. It made sense to him, now, and he blurted out, “Like a dissonant chord.”

Doc blinked at him, a similitudinous echo of the expression the Doc of ’55 had given him when he tried to explain that time-travel was not only possible, but probable. His brows scrunched together, and he watched his friend throw his magnificent mind at the problem.

Maybe it was a side-effect of time travel, but he bounced in place, fingers tapping out a rhythm he couldn’t remember if he tried, only knew it by sense-memory, as he waited for whatever output Doc’s brain would come up with from this new input. It was new, knew it as strongly as he knew his bone-deep senses, but at the same time it felt like it had been there – guiding him – all along.

“Yes,” Doc murmured, looking at him thoughtfully, “I suppose that’s exactly it.”

He got a taste of his own theory in 2015, how bitterly the future – either of them – sat on his tongue, his hand twitching to a rhythm persistently unlike the one his dour, bitter future self was imprinted with. Even 1985B resonated badly to him, like a set of strings tightened to their extremes and too frightful to play without risking a scarring injury.

Pocket burning with the image of a changing tombstone, Marty felt he could almost hear it now, a thumping underneath his pulse that worked in time with his instinctive calls to action. Clara rang… not wrong, but missing – as if the thundering clops of hoof-beats were a counterpoint that could lead anywhere, even to a ravine.

It made him feel a little bit scraped raw, a shell of circumstance that pushed him to rattle forth into Doc’s place. He girded himself against the clanging notes sleuthing through his subconscious, too ready to throw his own handful of earth upon the grave of cacophony he and Doc had created.

The feeling stuck with him, past the sublime echo of an improvised bullet-proof vest and the DeLorean being smashed to pieces on the train tracks he had scrambled away from. Jennifer felt about as real as Clara – circumstances, notes, rather, that worked with the song he could now feel, but never as perfect of a match as they could be.

He caught his breath, in this unmoored 1985 that was neither A, nor B, nor C, and let his fingers dance to the tune time had introduced him to.

-

Author's Notes

Degrees of Freedom (often abbreviated df or DOF) refers to the number of independent variables or parameters of a system. In various scientific fields, the word "freedom" is used to describe the limits to which physical movement or other physical processes are possible. This relates to the philosophical concept to the extent that people may be considered to have as much freedom as they are physically able to exercise.[citation needed]

- Wikipedia

In classical mechanics, holonomic constraints are relations between the position variables (and possibly time[1]) that can be expressed in the following form: f(u1, u2, u3, … un, t) = 0 where {u1, u2, u3, … un} are the n generalized coordinates that describe the system. For example, the motion of a particle constrained to lie on the surface of a sphere is subject to a holonomic constraint, but if the particle is able to fall off the sphere under the influence of gravity, the constraint becomes non-holonomic.

- Wikipedia

I was originally going to remix a title from the Dying Earth (genre) wiki, but the urge to toss in some physics reference was a bit too strong to ignore. I worked backwards this time (ha) in comparison to my Quantum Leap fic Restoring Force when it came to summary references, but degrees of freedom and holonomic constraints are indeed directly related to each other, via the term "configuration space", which may or may not be computed with time as a variable as one wishes.

Music accompaniment: "Distorted Light Beam" by Bastille (lyrics here)

[vallikesgivinghugs]

Ooh sounds fun let's do it!

Under read more because y'know don't want people to have to scroll through all of that if they don't care.

1. IbisPaintX, honestly it was my first art program I ever actually used but now I'm FireAlpaca's bitch.

2.Oooh I personally really enjoy/have an easier time drawing front facing characters, profiles are so darn difficult.

3. Big bright and noticeable eyeshines i guess! Always been a thing for me, so my characters always have extra bright eyes. Or i guess eyes in general are a thing I kept from my kiddie days.

4. Crystaline stuff and MAGIC. I love them both so much but god can I not draw them for the life of me. And hair! But hair i'm starting to figure out!

5. Now that I think about it's pretty darn close id I do say so myself! Like 40 to 45% i post online (mostly on discord) and then 55 to 60% i keep to myself!

6. When I draw cats it's a lot of inspo from different warrior cats fandom big names but in general anime is my big inspo!

7.Traditional painting! I tried painting and it's just not for me but I love the way it looks and how many thing people can do with it!

8. God the amount of stories and characters that I've just left as wips in immense. I have adhd, can't finish stuff for shit.

9. Usually if it's one character it's 'character name' and then you add a number or a descriptor (aka smile or smth). Otherwise it's just like 2 or 3 words of what the drawing is. And then I group those in like 'finished art' 'wips' etc!

10.Ooh tough one. I do enjoy drawing poofy sleeved shirts or like long flowy dresses/skirts.

11.Ranges from romance music playlists to true crime and everything in between! I just need a background noise honestly. Doesn't really matter what the noise is.

12. Face. I draw floating heads on the regular.

13. Junji Ito. His style is just so freakin' interesting and his grasp on anatomy is just amazing! But, personally I'm not the biggest horror/gore fan so I don't actually read his stuff. I just find his art nifty when I see it.

14.Polkadots or stripes. Love that stuff.

15.In my room personally but I used to go out to parks and draw there when I was younger.

16.Lineart. everyone is always sayin' stuff like 'Wow your lines are so nice and clean' and while I do agree that it's one of my strengths personally my lineart always looks rigid and wrong to me. I tend to prefer my sketches and nowadays I usally clean those up and use 'em as the lineart.

17.Nope. i completely forget that my body has bodily functions when i draw. I get invested X3

18.Not many! Honestly it's less that I break them on purpose and more that I'm clumsy and drop stuff all the time but on the regular I try my best not to break stuff.

19.Flowers and bushes!

20. Armor of any kind, love me some shiny metals and belts and buckles.

21. I really like the disney style (both 2d and 3d) and I'm really a big fan of 3d animation in anime (studio orange with Trigun Stampede and Land of the Lustrous have my heart)

22.none I live on the edge. (Don't do this, please stretch your hands I'm just a dumbass)

23.I use so many layers and so many of them are multiply and add it's not even funny.

24.Yes. stock images are really good for poses and stuff. I often makes collages of multiple of them to get what I want exactly.

25. Hmmm, i dunno if that's happened to me actually.

26.Nothing comes to mind but i'm sure it's happened!

27.I draw a bunch of circles. And sometimes doodle like different body parts or sonas of mine loosely.

28.I participated in the artfight of 2023! It was a good time.

29.live action tv shows and just non-animated movies/stuff in general! I can write fanfic wips for days but drawing them? Nah.

30.hmmm can't think of any? I probably have one or two that I wish got more attention but usually the attention my art gets is pretty on par with what I' expecting!

Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game

Didn't see a lot of artist ask games, wanted to make a silly one.

(I wrote this while sick out of my mind last year and it's been collecting dust in my drafts, I might as well let it run free) 1. Art programs you have but don't use

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

3. What ideas come from when you were little

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

9. What are your file name conventions

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

12. Easiest part of body to draw

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

14. Any favorite motifs

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

23. Do you use different layer modes

24. Do your references include stock images

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

[queen-of-confusion13]

The value of each life depends on who is evaluating it.

As always, IMO (in my opinion) and with my limited general knowledge. There is a LOT of history and research out there and sometimes history gets rewritten more than once.

Amazon Prime made a Sundance 2019 prize winning documentary called "One Child Nation." It was made by Chinese born filmmakers and tells what really happened during China's One-Child policy. It is worth the time, but get the kleenex if you cry easily, and just remember to breathe.

We wonder what the "truth" is and think we can count on authorities to give us accurate information. A look back at the numbers regarding China's history is a good example of how they are manipulated to shed a positive light on reports.

China had a famine that killed millions of people during the years of 1958 to 1961, but some scholars include 1957 and 1962, so you can see from the very start that all numbers are in question. The range of people who starved to death is between 15 and 55 million. Reports made to the government were not accurate because they didn't want to tell them that the new policies caused 70% of the problem while natural disasters such as flooding and drought caused the other 30%.

One person on a bus trip describes seeing the bodies of dead people all along the side of the road, but people just didn't "see" them out of the bus windows. Accurate reporting could cause retailation. The most stricken province was Anhui, and that is exactly where our daughter was born. People were so desperate that they resorted to cannibalism. They could eat dirt to fill their stomachs, but the desperation to stay alive caused crazy things to happen. The population of China during this time dropped by around 15 million due to a lower birth rate and increased death rate.

After the famine was over the population returned to normal activities....procreation. And the numbers started increasing over the years until it the problem was reversed and it was decided to implement a one-child policy in 1980. Each couple was only allowed one child. The tradition in China is that the bride goes with the man's family. Females were and are not valued as highly as males. There was even a time when females feet were bound in order to make them deformed and small and that made it difficult to walk or run away. They were definitely second-class if even that. Therefore, having a son meant you were set for life. Having a girl was worse than not having children at all.

As a result of this, infanticide was common. A bucket of water would be sitting beside the mother as she gave birth and if it was a girl she was drown in it before she took her first breath. There were forced third trimester abortions and sex selective abortions. It is understandable how the number of women available for marriage was considerably reduced a couple of decades later and men had a hard time finding a mate.

Some parents decided to save the lives of their babies even though they could get in big trouble. They began to leave them places where they were sure to be found hoping for the best. Orphanages started to increase and the plight of the Chinese girl became known across the world. People wanted to help save those precious girls, so all around the world they were being adopted into families ... going home. Compassion was the word. And it took money.

As the chinese government observed this happening they got dollar signs in their eyes. Girls were worthless there, but could be used to make a pretty penny elsewhere. It was illegal for anyone to abandon their child during this time, so when a baby was found a search was immediately launched to find the parents to prosecute them. Official paperwork went with each girl stating that the search had been fruitless and the child was indeed an orphan. We got those same papers when we were there.

I don't know exactly when the government started stealing children and claiming they were orphans for profit. Adoptions were still in great demand, so they saw opportunity. Gone were the rooms that they put unwanted babies in to die from complete neglect. Lisa Ling showed these rooms in a documentary, and it very well could have been from the orphanage that had our daughter. As always, follow the money. We had to show up with a bundle of cash in hand as an orphanage donation. While this raised flags it wasn't a show stopper for us as we truly believed that all those 400 kids at that orphanage were without families. There were 100 under the age of one and conditions were horrible. Seeing the film "One Child Nation" made me realize that our daughter might been kidnapped and sold. It was horrifying. It was tough to deal with, but considering the young girls who were no older than 8 soliciting their services to the men in our group on the streets of Beijing while their pimp sat behind them, at least I knew our daughter was safe.

The agency we used for our adoption was recommended by friends who had a good experience with them. They had a chinese man who had been present at the Tiananmen Square massacre. I remember seeing that confrontation. He had come to America, and his mission was to bring as many families together as possible and give these girls a better life. He accompanied all the families in groups of 6-7 and was the translator, banker, tour guide, and baby charmer all at once. It was a great experience and they had a fund used to help the orphanages. He said that they used to be in desperate need of food, then it was the clothes, now they needed washers. We took baby clothes as a donation when we went there. When we got out daughter they took off the little pants she was wearing and left her in the onsie. They really were in need.

I was talking to our daughter one time about where she was born and pointed it out on the globe. Then I wanted to show her a picture of Zhou who had been our guide so I tried to reach their site on the internet. What came up made me gently ask my daughter immediately to go get me something so she would leave the room while I freaked out. The adoption agency we used had been shut down for sex trafficking and financial exploitation. It blew my mind. It was horrific. And I found out about it by accident. We had recommended that agency to countless. My counselor helped me by telling me that I reframe it and be thankful that our daughter was safe from all that evil. It wasn't something that I wanted to share with our adoption group that were with us on that 12 day trip, but later on somebody else discovered it and shared it with the group as she was absolutely horrified, too.

God directed us to our daughter. We already had three kids and I had a hysterectomy so we weren't thinking our family would grow. But, we definitely had signs from God which I will share later, It's not easy to deny God's will and we weren't even going to try. So, we were blessed with a baby girl. Our family who we thought had been so perfect was missing one person. And that baby that I finally got into my arms on "gotcha day" has been a total blessing and completed our family perfectly.

We need to be on the alert for governmental abuse and lies. Falsifying numbers reported, spreading false information, using the citizenship for profit, unfairly treating it's population with some getting the lion's share while others getting too little to survive well. It is not enough to just have faith that good will prevail. If there is a real problem determining what the "truth" is then we need to start investigating and at least find out what it is not. If two elected officials stand on complete opposite sides of the fence then don't believe either one. Do your own research. Some people are very motivated by the wrong things and have no qualms about dishonesty.

I believe there is a special place in hell for people who abuse children. The most innocent people of all facing advances in technology that is constantly becoming more dangerous and intrusive in their lives. The world is a village with instant access into your home and child's mind. Depression and anxiety are worse when using social media. It is time to share our stories and tell the truth. Even if it hurts.

John 8:31-32 "So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, 'If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free'."

"God is Love" by Yongsung Kim

[solshop]

Herbal Teas OR Herbal Tisane Difference– Solshop

Herbal Teas OR Herbal Tisane

Are you looking to add a bit of zing and variety to your daily routine? Then herbal tea or tisane is just the thing for you! Not only are herbal teas full of flavor, they can also carry a wide range of health benefits depending on their ingredients. Whether it’s aiding in digestion, improving sleep quality or calming stress levels, herbal tea has something for everyone. So let’s delve into some more details about this soothing beverage and discover what makes herbal tea so special.

What is herbal tea or tisane ?

Nowadays, many of the herbal and fruit blends we enjoy are consumed via what is popularly known as a tea bag. Thus these drinks commonly referred to as "fruit teas" or "herbal teas."

Rather than calling it an herbal tea, a more precise and historically accurate name is 'tisane'. This term essentially means to produce a warm beverage by steeping herbs, spices or other plants in hot water. The root of the word tisane dates all the way back to 14th century Anglo-French; additionally its Latin form ‘ptisana’ and Greek origins “ptisane” indicate ancient processes involving crushing barley with mortar and pestle before mixing said crushed grains into water as an infusion.

Nowadays, tisane is the universal designation for medicinal and herbal infusions across many nations. However, hearkening back to centuries ago when Ayurvedic medicine practices were prominent in India and traditional Chinese remedies flourished, people have long partaken of tisanes for both healing purposes as well as bolstering overall health.

Are Herbal Teas Caffeine Free?

Herbal teas, like chamomile, peppermint, rooibos and hibiscus are naturally without caffeine so they tend to be favored by those wanting or needing to reduce their intake. Also for coffee-lovers who desire the taste of tea but not necessarily its stimulating effects - herbal varieties make a great option late in the day so as to avoid any sleepless nights caused by overly buzzed energy levels!

For those who want the energy boost of caffeine, some herbal infusions made by combining Herbs with Green Tea, Oolong Tea or White Tea provides just that. An 8-ounce cup of green tea contains between 30 and 50 mg while oolong tea offers 37 to 55 milligrams per serving. White tea contains the lowest caffeine. So if you're looking for late afternoon vigor without throwing off your sleep schedule, these infused blends are perfect! And best yet? You can get both convenience and healthful ingredients in one cup - truly liquid gold!

What are Health Benefits of Herbal Teas?

The advantages of herbal teas are vast and diverse, just like the herbs themselves. Have difficulty sleeping? Feeling joint pain or sluggishness? Having digestive issues? Looking to manage weight naturally? Want to cleanse or detox your body and organs? Identifying which benefit you’d most appreciate can help to whittle down your choices and find the ideal blend for YOU!

Herbal tea is so sought-after because it is an easy and convenient way to reap the health benefits of various herbs, spices and plants. Consuming raw ingredients like cinnamon or chamomile would be difficult (and not exactly pleasant!) but through transforming them into a warm beverage, you can effortlessly enjoy these flavors on a daily basis in both a tasty and sustainable format.

So, exactly which health benefits do SOL herbal teas deliver?

Reduce stress and anxiety: The renowned Chamomile has been known for its soothing properties since time immemorial. By combining two potent herbs - namely, chamomile and lemongrass - one can easily experience relief from anger, stress and any kind of body pain. Get ready to bask in ultimate relaxation and rejuvenation with this herbal blend! There are countless benefits to consuming this tea: promoting sound sleep, reducing stress & anxiety, aiding in digestion, lowering blood pressure and even boosting mental strength! All this thanks to the polyphenol apigenin found in chamomile, which has been linked to feelings of relaxation and ease. Unwind after a long day by enjoying a warm cup of caffeine-free Calming Chamomile from SOL – it’s sure to get you ready for the sweet dreams ahead.

Boost Immunity with Tangerine Turmeric, an immune-boosting blend made with a unique mix of ingredients including turmeric, lemon peel, ginger, cinnamon, black pepper, cardamom and lemongrass! This spicy blend concoction is naturally packed with high levels of antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties — all to help give your body the boost it needs! So if you’re feeling under the weather or need that extra immunity boost, then look no further as our Tangerine Turmeric spiced blend will have you feeling like new in no time. Our caffeine-free specialty mixture is designed to fight against cough and cold symptoms while relieving a sore throat. Plus there are many other benefits such as promoting healthier hair and skin and better gut health. So no matter what goal you have in mind for health improvement — Tangerine Turmeric has got your back!

Detox Liver: Looking for a detox that's effective, but still gentle on your body? Look no further: Jolly Jecur has you covered! With herbs like Nettle, Echinacea, Sarsa Parilla, Milk Thistle, and Dandelion your liver, gut, and blood will feel better than ever before. All these natural cleansers come together in one tea that’s sure to produce some jolly feelings! So if you are looking to reverse the effects of habits such as drinking alcohol, soft drinks, sugary and processed foods on your liver, this is the herbal tea for you. Enjoy the ultimate cleansing and detox properties of this caffeine-free blend.

Detox Lungs: Combining green tea with nine powerful herbs specially formulated for maximum health benefits, Cuppa Cure, the lung cleaning tea works hard so you don't have to. With ingredients such as cardamom, cinnamon, turmeric, fennel, ginger, senna leaves, triphla, tulsi, rose and black pepper – each sip packs in the full flavour. Together they form an effective blend which can clear toxins and nourishes your cells with essential vitamins & minerals. What’s even greater? Cuppa Cure will leave your senses refreshed while decreasing cravings and cleaning up those lungs! Want to break free from addiction and cleanse your lungs? Then this is the tea for you.

Weight loss: Our weight loss superhero, Willowy Wulong, is packed with immune-boosting ingredients, like Oolong tea, Green tea, Mint, Cinnamon, Licorice, Rooibos, Tulsi, Ginger, Jasmine, Moringa and Gymnema Sylvester. Plus the added benefits of Turmeric, Ashwagandha, Fennel and Lemongrass work to give you a lasting edge in your fight against unwanted pounds. Not only will Willowy Wulong help you achieve your weight loss goals effectively and safely through these powerful herbs - boosting your metabolism while aiding digestion and gut health - but it’s also an enabler of better overall health. Lasting improvements include stronger bones and joints; youthful skin complexion; improved cognitive responses for focused energy combined with turmeric and ashwagandha; plus Pipli, Cardamom and others combine to knock down inflammation from within. Try Willowy Wulong today and feel revitalized from the inside out!

Promote Skin and Hair quality: A lot of our herbal teas help support improvements in skin and hair. But nothing like the ultimate tea: Blissful Berries. An all-natural, skin-loving drink mix packed with antioxidants and Vitamin C to give you a total health and beauty upgrade! Enjoy the sweet tropical fruit flavours of strawberry, pineapple, cranberry and orange peel while rejuvenating your skin from within. Not only that, but this caffeine-free herbal tea mix also helps boost collagen production, eliminate dead skin cells and even strengthen your immunity.

Anti-viral, Anti-Bacterial, Promotes Respiratory health: In the wake of the Covid-19 outbreak, people across the globe are turning to preventive measures to boost their immunity. Kwath Kadha is a powerful caffeine-free herbal blend that packs a punch of natural herbs proven to increase immunity, fight viruses and bacteria, help with respiratory problems and much more. Turbocharge your system by taking in its organic blends; Tulsi which provide a strong barrier against free radicals; Cinnamon that is known as 'healer' to countless ailments; Ginger that brings serenity to your body with its calming effects; Black Pepper for decongesting activities; Amla for energizing properties; Giloy for detoxification purpose plus Turmeric serving as a great source of antioxidants in every sip. To give you every recipe a hint of something extra delicious -- we have thrown in Licorice root for good taste. This unique combination of herbs creates an aromatic and delicious brew that’s packed with antioxidants that protect your body’s cells from free radicals and toxins.

Herbal tea is the perfect concoction for whatever ails you - no worrying about negative side effects! So, seize the day and find your favorite mix. Cheers to good health!

How Often Should I Drink Herbal Tea?

The frequency at which you should drink herbal tea depends on the purpose for which you are drinking it. If you are drinking it for medicinal purposes such as to treat digestive issues or inflammation, then it is best to drink it every day until your symptoms subside. However, if you’re simply looking to enjoy its relaxing effects or reap its antioxidant benefits, then once or twice a week is sufficient. It is important to note that too much of any one type of tea may result in an uncomfortable reaction due to its high concentrations of active compounds. Therefore, it is best to stick with lower doses when possible and listen to your body if you experience any adverse reactions from drinking herbal tea.

Conclusion:

Herbal teas offer a wide array of health benefits including reducing inflammation and helping digestion. They also provide antioxidants that can fight off harmful free radicals found in our bodies and help us relax after a long day. The frequency with which you should drink these beneficial teas depends on why you’re drinking them; however, moderation is key when it comes to consuming anything - including herbal tea! So next time you’re looking for some relief or just want something soothing at the end of a long day - reach for an herbal tea instead!

[desertgremlin]

I posted 1,849 times in 2022

88 posts created (5%)

1,761 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@million-pieces

@intensional

@ifwecrashimaginethat

@rogerdeakinsdp

@stuckinapril

I tagged 1,513 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#text - 173 posts

#q - 169 posts

#art - 74 posts

#words - 62 posts

#dracula daily - 55 posts

#exu calamity - 54 posts

#top gun maverick - 49 posts

#ask - 39 posts

#fave - 39 posts

#gol anon - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#last year i went back to a fic a read in 2011 and left a comment pretty much saying something like the above bc it has neverrr left my mind

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

loving the murder mystery vibes of exu:c ep 2

1 note - Posted June 4, 2022

#4

as a mark maggiori, rdr2, arrival (2016), contact (1997), lewis pullman girlie,, outer range is SO up my alley that I had to pause watching the rest of it and move onto HOTD for a bit because I could feel the brain rot coming on

1 note - Posted October 12, 2022

#3

Dude, Lale's outfits keep getting better and better. I'm envious, she dresses exactly how I want to dress in real life.

ooh I gotta catch up on the rest of the episodes after work, I wouldn't expect less from her!!

I'll also reply to your asks then!! I love them bestie, I feel like you'd give every television show reviewer out there a run for their money if you published these asks

2 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

#2

@glenpowell: Shooting “Hitman” in New Orleans with Richard Linklater and Adria Arjona… …I’m writing and producing alongside one of my film heroes and getting to star across from one of the most exciting actors in the business. Loving my life.

8 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

174 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[rakishlyregalrat]

Me: *dropped ap stats the first day cuz I didn't sign up for it and ew math*

Also me: *stays up till 3 am making charts and graphs of what I've read this year and comparing word counts to days read and so on*

[austinsmutler]

Big Boss Man | Austin!Elvis x Reader | One-Shot

Summary: Your boss is a disgusting, misogynistic jerk, and Elvis will do anything to help you get out of that situation.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader, Elvis x Reader

What you’ll like: Elvis being just positively bonkers about you. Protective!Elvis, supportive Elvis, happy endings, fluff and general sweetness in spite of everything.

Warnings: Misogyny (like, your boss is a total asshole), attempted sexual assault (nothing graphic happens), the 1950s was cool in theory but was a bad time to be a working-class woman.

If the above will trigger you, read Just Pretend instead. It's soft, fluffy, and comes with 0 content warnings!

Word Count: 3542

A/N: Who hasn't wished Elvis would break into their workplace and punch their boss in the face? We've all been there, right? *sweats nervously*

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want! Confess your sins! Have a good time with it!)

I can’t take it anymore. It was a thought that came up in your mind again and again, like a wave washing up on the shore, retreating and coming right back, all day every day. You didn’t mind your job- waitressing in a small cafe on a road just off of Beale Street wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it helped your Momma pay the bills. Customers weren’t always polite, but you could handle that. 

It was your manager, Adam Reed, you couldn’t stand. The self-proclaimed ‘Wolf of Beale Street’ owned half the cafes in Memphis, but made this one his home. There was no clear reason why, apart from to make your life hell. 

“Why ain’t you smiling, sweetheart?” Mr Reed scowled when you came into the kitchen to pick up some fresh burgers. “You’re a pretty little thing when you smile.”

The corners of your lips tilted upwards while bile rose at the back of your throat. 

“Better.”

It was all you could do to keep the smile on as you picked up the fresh-made meals for table 4 and backed out of the kitchen- the ‘Wolf’ was sure to comment something about your ass if you walked out normally.

I can’t take it anymore. Your smile stayed on as you served the food, took more orders, returned to the kitchen, picked up the food, repeated. I can’t take it anymore.

“You havin’ that time of the month, darlin?’ Reed commented when you returned and forgot to keep a tired smile up. “You look puffy. Not as perky as usual.”

Your mouth opened and closed- What can I even say to that? - You shook your head and plastered the same smile on your face as before, but wider. Reed grinned and mopped some sweat from his greasy, balding forehead before turning his attention back to the stovetop.

“That’s more like it. If you don’t want to be a good little girl, there’s plenty of others in this town who will.”

“Yes sir.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Sorry, Mr Reed.”

He grunted in response, and relief washed over you when you realised it was 5:55 PM. Your shift was over in 5 minutes. The cafe was empty and, most importantly, your boyfriend would show up to drive you home. Elvis hated the thought of you walking alone in the dark. The only thing he hated more was the thought of you being alone in the cafe with your boss.

Like clockwork, at 5:57 the bell above the cafe door rang and Elvis walked in. He looked as tired as you felt, but his blue eyes lit up when he saw you. 

“Hey, Baby.” He leaned in to wrap an arm around your waist and give you a kiss on the cheek. “You about ready to go?”

“She’s got three minutes on the clock, squirrel.” The Wolf appeared from the kitchen, pulling on his coat. “Don’t forget she’s mine ‘till 6. Hands off.”

Elvis bristled, but he knew how much you needed this job to pay the bills, so he withdrew his hand from around your waist with a shit-eating smile. 

“Yessir.”

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

“Sorry about him.” You sighed, slumping into the passenger side of Elvis’ truck. He gave you a peck on the lips before gently closing your door and walking over to the driver’s side. 

“Don’t you apologise for that bloodsuckin’ old vampire.” Elvis turned the key in the ignition and began the drive home. “You want me to take the scenic route so we can talk about it?”

You couldn’t hide the grin on your face; the first real one all day. “I’d like that.”

The scenic route wasn’t so much a route as it was a long way through the backstreets of town, with one long stop in a turnout by the river, secluded enough that you could stop and talk about life for as long as you needed.

Elvis’ knuckles grew white on the steering wheel as you told him all the snide comments Reed slid your way with every dish. 

“That snake’s just as slimy as his food.” He growled through gritted teeth. “I ought to sock him in his fat goddamn face.”

You shook your head. “He’d just call the cops on you. And besides, my Momma and I need the money. He might be a snake, but he pays half our bills. If I lose this job I don’t know what we’ll do.”

Elvis pulled off of the road. The sun was practically set, the day had turned into a beautiful Memphis dusk. The sky was a pale pink, a favourite colour shared by you and Elvis, and the river was calmly running, surface smooth as glass. Being away from the cafe was enough to lift your mood on its own, but being here with him was more than enough.

“I wish you didn’t have to think like that.”

“You know how it is.” You shrugged. Your father had been out of the picture since before you were born, leaving your Momma to scrape by waiting tables, cleaning hotel rooms, looking after old folks, and anything else she could find.

Elvis didn’t respond, just looked out across the water, at the fields in the distance beyond the river. His father drove a grocery truck and worked odd jobs while his Momma spent days doing laundry for anyone who’d pay. Elvis drove this very truck all over Memphis during the week and worked at the movies on weekends. All his pennies went to paying the bills and buying food for the family, same as yours. 

“Well, one day I’ll make it different for us.”

You took his hand from the wheel and held it in your lap. “I know you will. But for now, we just have to put up with it.”

“If he tries anything, I swear I’ll put him in the ground.”

“I know you will. That’s why I love you.” 

Elvis turned to look at you and smiled, leaning over for a kiss. It started out innocent, but his hand reached to hold your chin in place while his tongue slid along your bottom lip, asking permission.

He wasn’t big on saying I love you- he preferred to show you with actions. Picking you up from work every day was just one example. Buying you a soda on your days off, walking Beale street with you and listening to you talk about your dreams. Over the time you’d been dating, he’d grown fluent in body language between the two of you. Everything about this kiss said I love you, over and over. I love you. I really love you. I’d do anything for you. Just say the word and I’ll punch that sucker’s lights out.

You only broke apart so Elvis could reach under your seat and pull out the blanket he kept there, asking a question with his eyes. You grinned and opened the passenger door.

Elvis spread the blanket across the back of the truck and let you lie down first, arms folded behind your head. The stars weren’t out yet, but the pink sky filtered through the green summer leaves so beautifully you didn’t care. It was quiet here, hardly a car passing by on the back-road. The perfect place to lie together without anybody bothering the two of you. You could stay here for hours and when you got home late you’d just tell your mother you’d gotten stuck in traffic, or Elvis had a flat tire, and she’d believe it. 

Real life paused while Elvis lay on his side next to you. His arm draped over you and his eyes studied yours intently, as if trying to read your mind. 

“I went to a recording studio today. I’ve been saving up some money, and I recorded a couple songs." He looked down, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react. "You know Sam Phillips, right? He works with Big Boy Crudup. He says he likes my sound. Wants to sign me.”

“Yeah?” You grinned. “That’s great!”

Until now, Elvis’ voice was a poorly-kept secret. He sang all the time; when you were together, when he drove you to and from work, when he was at home with his parents or alone in his truck. Elvis always had music playing from the radio, no matter where he was, and he was always singing along. Next to you, music was the love of his life. 

“I just hope my Momma likes the record.” He was trying to sound modest, but the smile on his face betrayed how excited he really was. “I only wanted to record something for her birthday this month.”

“She’ll love it. You know your voice is great.”

You pulled his head down for a long kiss, only breaking apart to whisper in his ear,

“I can’t wait to hear it either.”

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

It was only a few weeks later that everything changed- for Elvis. His record, That’s Alright Mama, flew to the top of the charts for Blues and Country. Suddenly he was booked on live radio for interviews around the state, and soon after that he was quitting his job to go on a real tour, center-stage. 

“I won’t be able to pick you up for at least three weeks.” He’d said the night before leaving. “But if he tries anything, I need you to call me, okay? I don’t care where I am, I’ll come flyin’ back to you.”

“It’ll be fine, Elvis.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hardly caring if any nosy neighbours were peeping through their curtains at the two of you. He kept his hands on your lower back, pulling you scandalously close. “Just come back soon, and tell me all about what it’s like outside Memphis.”

“I will, I promise.”

That was six weeks ago. Elvis called most nights, but The Wolf had made it his personal mission to make sure you were never home to pick up the phone. Your Momma talked more to your boyfriend than you did.

“Sweetheart, I don’t force the customers to come in after 6PM, but if that’s when they come in, that’s when I need you here. So don’t be late.”

And you weren’t. Unfortunately, neither was Reed. Customers after 6PM were few and far between, meaning you mostly mopped, swept, wiped tables, and listened to Reed’s opinions on everything from Elvis’ ‘hillbilly trash’ music to complaints about your poor workplace attitude ‘turning off customers’. 

Sometimes he leaned in close enough that you could smell the stale hamburgers on his breath, just to tell you to wipe a certain table or ‘make me a pot of coffee, doll. We’ve got some hours to kill.’

That was the least of your worries. It was autumn, and longer, darker nights were beginning to set in before the winter. Most nights you couldn’t leave the diner until 11:30, walking home until midnight. Every night you walked with your hand clasped around the keys in your purse, like Elvis had taught you: Don’t put them between your fingers, Baby. You try to hit somebody like that, you’re more likely to cut up your hands or drop the keys altogether. Hold one key like a knife, point it downwards, jab him where it hurts, and you’ve got a chance.

Your heart pumped a mile a minute the whole walk home, hands shaking and legs jumping at the slightest sound on the street. Wind in the trees must be a crazed murderer, the echo of your own footsteps was a stalker. Nothing felt safe anymore. 

Tonight wasn’t much different: one patron lingered in the cafe sipping on free refills from 9:30 till 10. After they left, Reed insisted on keeping you behind to clean up for the rest of the night.

Sleep dragged your eyelids down, head emptying of thoughts as you leaned over to wipe crumbs from the very edge of one table. You were so engrossed in getting the job done and worrying about the walk home, you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you. Warm hands on your hips made you jump, and any thoughts of going home froze in their tracks. 

Hot burger-breath puffed in your ear, 

“You know, you act like such a sweet little girl,” A beefy hand crept up to grasp the back of your neck, not tight, but just enough to let you know who was in charge. “But if you’re still seeing that greaser, you must have a dirty side.”

Breath froze in your throat. Your lungs screamed for air, but you couldn’t move as Reed pressed his nose to your hair and drank in your scent before letting you go and taking a step back, giving you just enough space to turn around. 

His eyes were dark with lust when you did, looking anywhere but your face. Now he had you backed up against the table, an arm on either side of your body. Boxed-in. 

“You know, you seem mighty fine staying here all alone with The Wolf. Makes me think you like me more than you let on. Maybe you like thinking about what might happen. Does it give you a little thrill, huh sweetheart?”

Your arms hung uselessly at your sides. Thoughts came fast, but not fast enough: Where are my keys? Where is my purse? I need to get home. I need to get past him to get home. I need to get home now. Please, not here, not now. 

By the time you dragged your arms up to push at him, his hands were on your lower hips, lifting you onto the table you’d just been cleaning. A scream bubbled at the back of your throat, but his hand came up to cover your mouth.

“Shh, sweetheart, this can be our little secret. You behave nicely now, and I just might give you a raise…”

You didn’t care. You could sleep on the streets. You could find another job, any other job- just so you’d never see him again. You kicked, but he grabbed your legs and held you down with brutal force.

The bell rang, but you couldn’t get up to see who’d just come in.

“Scram, we’re closed.” Reed grunted as he tried to hold you down with one hand and keep your mouth covered with the other, not bothering to look up.

Everything happened at once- his weight lifted off of you, and you heard a familiar voice scream in rage, 

“You sonofabitch!”

That voice made you move, jumping off of the table and seeing the back of Elvis’ head as he pinned Reed to the breakfast bar, punching him so hard you heard something (or a few somethings) crack.

“I’ll fucking kill you. You piece of shit. You feel like a big strong man now, huh?” He lifted the man up just to slam him down again, hard. “Think you’re some big boss man? Call yourself a wolf. You ain’t even a chihuahua.”

A tidal wave of emotions washed over you- fear and adrenaline, relief and love, and an overwhelming need to pull Elvis off your boss before he killed the man. You rushed forward and grabbed Elvis’ arm, only to have him flick you away, barely registering your effort.

Blood splattered the counter you'd finished wiping just moments earlier as Elvis held the older man down with one hand and punched with the other.

“Elvis.” You whimpered, voice not as strong as you wanted to sound. “Elvis, I need you to look at me.”

The softness of your voice reached him, and he paused to look at you. The hardness in his eyes evaporated immediately, and his shoulders went slack.

“Elvis, let’s just go. He’s done.” You tugged your boyfriend’s arm once more, and he reluctantly got off of Reed. You started leading him towards the door, but the sound of Reed getting up behind you made you pause.

“You fucking idiot.” The older man coughed and spat blood onto the floor. “I oughta have you both arrested.”

Elvis stopped in his tracks, and you swore you saw red flash through his eyes, but it wasn’t him who moved first. It was you.

With one fluid movement, you kicked the Wolf of Beale Street in the balls. “I quit. And the next time you even think about threatening us again, I won’t stop him from killing you.”

Reed was in so much pain he could hardly look up at you, but when he did you saw fear flashing in his eyes. Coward. That was enough to get you to turn around, take Elvis’ hand and lead him towards the exit. 

“That’s my girl.” Elvis mumbled, grinning to himself, as he held the door open for you.

You looked around for his truck, but it was nowhere to be seen. He took your hand and led you over to an unfamiliar car. You didn’t care, as long as it could take you far away from the cafe. It barely registered in your brain as Elvis held the passenger door open for you before walking to the other side to drive. Your mind was too busy trying to process what had just happened. Elvis was back. Your job was gone. Your boss - ex boss - had a broken nose. He'd have to clean up his own blood tonight.

Neither of you spoke as Elvis drove to your spot by the river. It must have been around midnight by the time you got there. The moon was high in the sky, and the river was utterly still, as if it were rehearsing for freezing over in winter. There was no breeze and not a single leaf moved on the trees above. The whole world was holding its breath, waiting for one of you to speak.

“Can we get in the back seat?” You spoke first. He looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows. “I need to feel you.”

“Of course, Baby.” 

Once you were both in the back, Elvis wrapped an arm around you and held you close to his chest. It was a respectful touch, light as he rubbed gentle circles up and down your back. His scent was everywhere; a heavy, almost floral cologne and something else- something unspeakably Elvis. The most comforting smell, and one that had left a hole in your life for the past six weeks. Your throat swelled up at the sheer relief of having him back, and you broke into pieces.

The first sob was louder than you expected, and the second one was more of a wail. Elvis held you through it all as the events of the night hit you fully- what had happened, what could have happened, what would have happened if Elvis hadn’t shown up when he did.

“S’alright. You’re gonna be alright now. I’m here. I ain’t leaving you ever again.” He whispered into your hair. 

“He- he tried to-” Even in the comfort of Elvis’ arms, you could hardly breathe.

“I know.” Elvis took your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. He wasn’t angry anymore; sadness was written everywhere in his blue eyes. He licked his lips as if he couldn’t decide how to ask his next question. “Did he… did he do anything else? While I’ve been away, did he hurt you?” 

You shook your head. “He’s been making more of the same comments, a bit more crude, but tonight was the first time he tried anything like that.”

Elvis let out a breath of relief, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Thank god.”

You looked up to kiss him again. His ghosted over yours, like he wasn’t sure how much you wanted from him, but he would give you as much or as little as you needed. 

“Elvis, what am I gonna do?” You pulled back to look at him. “Me and Momma can’t afford rent without that paycheck coming in.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore, Baby.”

“What are you talking about?”

He gestured around the car with the arm that wasn’t around your waist. It was then that you took in everything new about your boyfriend: he’d picked you up from the cafe in a pink cadillac. Not only that, but he was wearing a pink silk suit, the same colour as a Memphis dusk. You recognised it from the window of the Lansky Brothers’ Tailor on Beale Street, from the many times you and Elvis had paused to admire it together. Underneath that, he wore a black lace shirt that looked equally expensive. 

“Elvis…?”

“I signed a record deal with RCA yesterday. $5,000 just as a bonus, not even as a salary.” He was grinning ear to ear, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying. $5,000? That much money couldn’t possibly exist. If it did, what difference would it make to you? 

“Baby, it’s happening. I bought my Momma a mansion yesterday, 23 rooms, on a big old ranch just outside of Memphis. And guess what? Two of those rooms are for you and your Momma there, too. If you'll have them. You never have to go back to working for that toad ever again.” Your expression didn't change. Elvis smiled nervously, hands giving yours a squeeze. “I can take care of everything.”

Then it clicked, and you threw your arms around his neck in a kiss, moving so that your legs were either side of his hips. Elvis moved his hands to your lower back, holding you close as the kiss deepened and you breathed, 

“I love you.”

He smiled against your lips as he answered for the first time,

“I love you too.”

[thecreaturecodex]

Modron, Nonaton

Image © @tredlocity​

[In the original Monster Manual 2, the nonaton is the only modron to have psionic powers. No rationale is given, and there’s only the suggestion of a thematic link; is it because they’re inquisitorial, so reading and manipulating minds would be useful? I guess? I took that off of the nonaton and will be giving some occult abilities to the septon, which is getting slotted into a knowledge based role. The “cluster limbs” ability I gave the nonaton is inspired by this art, which bundles the tentacles into larger, more humanoid limbs in a fun way. I love his little helmet. ]

Modron, Nonaton CR 11 LN Outsider (extraplanar) This construct is cylindrical and half again as tall as a man. It has a single eye and an underslung jaw and the top of its head is shaped in a style reminiscent of a helmet. It has nine cable-like limbs, which slide up and down its body in order to combine into thicker arms.

Nonaton modrons are security chiefs and guard captains among the modrons. They ensure that law and order is maintained in Regulus. Nonatons coordinate and direct the attention of the pentadrones, and are the first responders if any incursions attack modron territory. Mortal visitors to Regulus are typically ordered to check in with a nonaton and provide an account of their business before being allowed to proceed past limited enclaves within the continent-city.

A nonaton modron can fight with all nine of its prehensile limbs at once, striking with them as tentacles. However, they prefer to bundle the limbs into four stronger arms and wield weapons in combat. They use combat maneuvers mixed with their spell-like abilities to hinder and frustrate enemies, as well as making them easier for their pentadrone minions to damage. Nonatons are invested by Primus with a sense of divine fury, granting them a flexible judgment ability like that of mortal inquisitors. Nonatons prefer to mix offensive and defensive judgments (justice and protection is a frequently used combination).

Nonatons are surprisingly good swimmers, and Regulus has a number of water features to both provide potable water for mortal visitors and to provide nonatons with unobtrusive spy outposts. A nonaton is always exactly nine feet tall.

Nonaton                CR 11 XP 12,800 LN Large outsider (extraplanar, lawful, modron) Init 20 (fixed); Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect chaos, Perception +25, see invisibility Defense AC 25, touch 14, flat-footed 20 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +11 natural) hp 145 (11d10+55 plus 30) Fort +8, Ref +12, Will +12 DR 10/chaotic; Resist acid 10, cold 10, fire 10; SR 21 Defensive Abilities constructed Offense Speed 50 ft., swim 50 ft. Melee masterwork guisarme +16/+11/+6 (2d6+7/x3) or 4 slams +15 (2d6+5) or 9 tentacles +10 (1d6+2) Ranged masterwork light crossbow +16/+11/+6 (2d6/19-20) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. (20 ft. with guisarme) Special Attacks judgments (4/day, 2 judgments, destruction +4, healing 4, justice +3, piercing +4, protection +3, purity +3, resiliency DR 3/lawful, resistance 8, smiting adamantine) Spell-like Abilities CL 11th, concentration +15 Constant—detect chaos, see invisibility At will—clairaudience/clairvoyance, detect thoughts (DC 16), dimension door, protection from chaos, slow (DC 17) 3/day—discern lies (DC 18), greater magic weapon, hold monster (DC 19), quickened lend judgment, mirror image, order’s wrath (DC 18) 1/day--dispel chaos (DC 19), greater teleport, judgment light (DC 18), power word stun, true seeing, wall of force Statistics Str 20, Dex 20, Con 20, Int 17, Wis 21, Cha 19 Base Atk +11; CMB +16 (+18 trip); CMD 31 (33 vs. trip) Feats Alertness, Combat Expertise, Deadly Aim, Improved Trip, Quicken SLA (lend judgement), Rapid Reload (light crossbow) Skills Acrobatics +16 (+24 when jumping), Diplomacy +18, Intimidate +18, Knowledge (local, planes) +17, Perception +25, Sense Motive +23, Stealth +19, Swim +27; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception Languages Celestial, Common, Infernal, Modron, telepathy 100 ft. (4 miles with modrons) SQ bundle limbs Ecology Environment any land or underwater (Regulus) Organization solitary, patrol (1 plus 2-12 pentadrones) or tribunal (2-5) Treasure standard (Large masterwork guisarme, large masterwork light crossbow, 40 bolts, other treasure) Special Abilities Bundle Limbs (Ex) As a move action, a nonaton can choose to bundle its limbs together, giving it four large limbs and one small one, or separate them, giving it nine small limbs. With its limbs bundled, it gains 4 slam attacks and can draw a single small item as a swift action. With its limbs separated, it gains 9 tentacle attacks, gains the undersized weapon SQ, but can draw up to nine small items from its person as a swift action. The statistics above reflect the nonaton with its limbs bundled. Judgment (Su) A nonaton gains the judgment and second judgment abilities of an inquisitor of a level equal to the nonaton’s racial HD. Nonaton HD stack with inquisitor levels for the purpose of the judgment ability.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

*

*

*

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you. 

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily. 

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.” 

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.” 

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently. 

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

*

*

*

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun. 

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes. 

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease. 

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.” 

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips.  He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time. 

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?” 

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave. 

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

[utilitycaster]

Level 14!

let’s go down the list except Fjord last because there are two paths he can go by but in the long run there’s still time to change the road you’re on

Jester and Caduceus: no additional spell slots, although they can prep an additional spell as they always can upon leveling up (both are now able to prep 19 spells). Eighth level spells show up at L15 and honestly it’s a short list (for those wondering: control weather is very handy but they might not get that in time to battle the takers, antimagic field will be good when they take on Trent at some point in the future but probably not yet, earthquake could be pretty nasty against enemies in the distance, and holy aura grants some great benefits but does require an extremely expensive relic and mostly I just want to know what a 1000 GP relic of The Traveler will be). They do however get improved Destroy Undead (up to CR 3 now), and a slightly better chance at divine intervention (not relevant for 7 days for Caduceus, but maybe Jester will be able to drag Artagan from the bar?)

Caleb: like the other full casters, no additional spell slots. He does get two new spells for free and personally speaking after looking into how antimagic fields interact with concentration I would love to see delayed blast fireball. I’m saving 8th level spell speculation for when they level up to 15 because the wizard list is huge, and more importantly, Caleb gets a subclass feature this level! He is now a master transmuter and can use his stone in four ways: he can transmute a nonmagical object no larger than a five foot cube into a different nonmagical object of similar size and no greater value; he can remove all curses, diseases, and poisons from one creature and bring them up to full HP; he can cast raise dead without a spell slot (diamond still required)(unless it’s Yasha); or he can restore youth, reducing a creature’s apparent age by a minimum of 13 years (3d10 or 13, whichever is higher), but with no lifespan extension. Any of these options will destroy the stone, and he’d need to create a new one, which takes 8 hours, after a long rest.

Veth: She learns a new spell, which can be up to 3rd level, and can be anything on the wizard spell list (as opposed to her usual limitation to the enchantment and illusion list). Also she hasn’t use mage hand to distract people, I don’t think, unless I missed it in last week’s battles, which is a L13 ability that Sam might review upon leveling up. As mentioned, she could take Leomund’s Tiny Hut, but also counterspell, blink, nondetection, remove curse, sending...it’s a good list. I would advise personally against major image just because that’s illusion, so she could take it at any level she gets to learn new spells or swap out an older spell for it.

Yasha: in addition to a zillion HP, she gets the most metal ability of all, Rage Beyond Death. If she is raging and is taken to 0 HP, she does not go unconscious. She still makes death saves as normal - and presumably, if she is hit she still takes a death saving fail (although not an auto-crit since she’s not unconscious) but she will remain conscious until her rage ends, and also she can, as far as I can tell from the wording, be healed despite failing 3 death saves and remain alive as long as her rage has been continuous. L14 is a fun in-between state because at L15 she gets persistent rage, which makes her very, very hard to kill as a result - it pretty much needs to be an insta-kill, like disintegrate or finger of death or being taken to -154 HP, since otherwise she just rages until healed. But at L14 she does have to maintain rage through attacks or damage.

Beau: Beau is now proficient in all saving throws, which means +9 to WIS and INT, +6 to CHA, and +8 to CON which will help a lot against Lucien next time (as she was rolling with just a +3 to CON last week). Her strength and dex saves are unchanged since monks have proficiency in those to start. She also can spend a ki point to reroll a failed save. And finally, her unarmored movement speed is now 55 feet per round, which means with step of the wind she can do 165 ft/round, which is 18.75 mph or about 30 km/h. (note: technically this is not superhuman; Usain Bolt’s record 100 m dash comes out to 37 km/h. However, that was for under 10 seconds. A rested Beau can do this for 14 rounds which is 84 seconds, covering about 700 meters. Using the 800m dash world record, the top speed is about 29 km/h; since it’s not a perfect comparison, Beau is at the very least matched with the (male) world record holder for that distance and possibly a bit faster).

Fjord: Fjord is currently at L10 Warlock/L3 Paladin.

Another level in Warlock gives him two major benefits: a third 5th level spell slot which like his other warlock spells refreshes on a short rest, and a mystic arcanum, which is essentially a once-per-day 6th level spell. The arcanum options are interesting and a few don’t seem very in line with his patron (somehow, create undead, mental prison, or soul cage don’t really seem like great choices) but arcane gate is highly on-brand - it’s basically Now You’re Thinking With Portals (and means that he could essentially allow the whole party to dimension door, with the restriction that it must be somewhere he can see). Conjure fey is sort of the same idea as conjure greater demon except fey, so I don’t really see the benefit; Eyebite is a solid debuffing option; Flesh to Stone lets him petrify people if he can maintain concentration and they fail their saves; Mass Suggestion is exactly what it sounds like (and lasts 24 hours without concentration, although there’s a save and it breaks if you attack the creatures affected); the various elemental investiture spells which could be handy in combat although would make it hard for the other melee fighters in the Nein; scatter, which is also very on brand in that it lets him teleport other people around; and we know True Seeing from the clerics and it’s probably not worth it since he’s got the sword and said clerics can do the same thing.

L4 in Paladin’s main benefits are: gets him closer to higher paladin levels, gets him an extra prepared L1 spell, and he finally gets the ASI/feat the rest of the party got two levels ago. For ASIs, bumping up strength and dex wouldn’t hurt - a higher AC and saves are always nice even if his attacks are with his maxed-out charisma - but the feats look better, honestly. Some that stand out to me are are inspiring leader (he’d have to do it twice to cover everyone, but it would give everyone +19 temp HP); mage slayer which is a feat I really like but also makes sense for Fjord, who is often in melee against spellcasters; spell sniper (which would give him a 240 range with Eldritch Blast, and a bonus cantrip, which he could take from any list although charisma casters are the smartest option); or prodigy, which Beau has and which would give him some extra skills and expertise.

[duggardata]

Stew #2, Coming 2022!

Data Analysis and Forecast Below.

Today (August 30, 2021), Carlin (Bates) + Evan Stewart announced Carlin’s 2nd Pregnancy.  Apparently, Stew #2 will arrive in 2022!  E! Online got the exclusive, which Carlin + Evan quickly followed up with a YouTube vlog, documenting the day Carlin found out she was pregnant, and with an Instagram Post on Carlin’s account.  (Permalink.)  Carlin said via Instagram and via E! News—

“Let the baby shopping adventures, food cravings, morning (sometimes all day) sickness, and midnight snacks begin!  Every single part of the baby journey is worth it, and being parents is the best part of our story!  Layla bug is the absolute joy of our lives and we can’t wait to see her become a big sister.  Our new addition to the crew is honestly more exciting than we can truly express in words.  Thank you all for your love, support, encouragement, and prayers.”

Taking a drastically more fundie tone, Carlin also told E! Online:  “Children are definitely a gift from God, and we are so thankful ....  We never want to take any moment of the life God has blessed us with for granted.” 

Read on for a full data analysis!

Approximate Due Date (ADD)

They haven’t shared much, thus far; however, with available evidence, Duggar Data has narrowed down the Due Date Range to ~April 5–13, 2022.  Until and unless more precise data is provided, Duggar Data will be using April 9, 2022 as Carlin’s Approximate Due Date (ADD).

[ Link to Prior Post, Discussing Available Evidence re: Carlin’s Due Date ]

Will They Do A Sex Reveal?  When?

With Layla Rae (Stewart #1), Carlin + Evan did do a Sex Reveal, pre–birth.  At the time, Carlin was 144 Days (or, 20 Weeks, 4 Days) Along.  With her ADD of April 9, 2022, Carlin will be exactly 144 Days Along on November 24, 2022—i.e., “Thanksgiving Eve.”  Maybe they’ll do a Turkey Day–themed reveal!

Projected Date of Birth (PDOB)

Layla was due on February 18, 2020, but actually arrived on January 31, 2020 (18 Days Early).  Carlin was induced with Layla; however, Duggar Data will not be excluding Layla’s Delivery vs. Due Date data, simply due to the induction...  It’s Carlin’s only data point, and it’s quite possible that similar problems might cause another early delivery for Stewart #2.

So...  Assuming Stewart #2 is also 18 Days Early, and is due on April 9, 2022, his or her PDOB is March 22, 2022.

Early, Late, or What?

Definitely Late.  After Layla’s birth, the Predictor used the Bateses 2nd Child Multiplier to fix Carlin + Evan’s Procreative Pace (PP) at 402 Days initially, and later at 436 Days (Due to Data from Josie’s Miscarriage), where it stayed until they became ‘late’ to announce in November 2020.  With a 436–Day Spacing, their Secondborn would’ve arrived on April 11, 2021.

... but, apparently, he or she isn’t actually going to arrive until March 22, 2022.  That’s 345 Days Late.  Among Bates Couples, 2nd Child Spacings vary by a Standard Deviation (SD) of 132 Days.  Doing the math...  Stewart #2 is a little over 2.6 SDs Late.  That’s pretty damn late.  Assuming a normal distribution, only about 5% of all data points can be expected to be that late or later.

But, in terms of Gestational Age at Pregnancy Announcement, they’re actually early—55 Days Early, to be exact.  They waited ‘til Carlin was 113 Days Along before announcing Layla.  This time around, they announced at ~Day 58.

Impact on PP, ESOQ

Immediately after Layla’s birth, Carlin + Evan’s Procreative Pace (PP) was 402 Days and their Estimated Size of Quiver (ESOQ) was 22 Children.  Subsequent data later shifted their PP to 436 Days, and they failed to announce on–time at that PP.  As of the last ESOQ, their tardiness in announcing Pregnancy #2 had driven their ESOQ down to 13 Children.

Following today’s Baby News, Carlin + Evan’s PP shifted to 781 Days (1 Child Every 25.7 Months), and their ESOQ dropped once again to 12 Children.  It is worth noting that, at 781 Days, Carlin + Evan’s PP is the slowest out of all the Bates Couples!  (Second slowest is Zach + Whitney, with a PP of 717 Days.)  This is pretty incredible, since their Marriage–to–Firstborn was the fastest, by far.  Glad that trend hasn’t continued!

When To Expect Stewart #3

As of August 30, 2021, here’s what the Predictor is forecasting—

Baby News   November 16, 2023 

Sex Reveal   January 14, 2024   

Due Date   May 29, 2024

Birthdate   May 11, 2024

[tehrevving]

DMC OC Week: Introductions

It's DMC OC Week!!, and I decided to write for some of the prompts. They're still in second/third person and stuff but yolo. These will all be set in my Heaven Sent AU (the time travel one)

Anyway, here's day 1

Introduction: Stolen Morning Moments Set just after Dante returns from his year in hell with Vergil. 18+. Smut.

You were woken from the peaceful embrace of sleep by your phone buzzing, insistent and grating. You cursed whoever the fuck decided to disturb you, groaning and completely unwilling to leave the warm cocoon of blankets. You moved to roll over, to at least flick the damn thing to do-not-disturb, but you were stopped by a deep groan and a wandering hand finding your waist and tightening around you, pulling you back against ridiculous heat.

The memories came back all at once. Dante, he was back, back from hell after way too fucking long. That’s why you were tired, why you felt so comfortable, why your muscles ached and your bones felt loose. You decided to ignore the phone, snuggling back against your boyfriend, who practically began to purr behind you.

The phone stopped buzzing, leaving you in a blissful moment of silence, filled by rhythmic soft breathing, and stolen morning moments. It had been so long since you’d woken up like this, and you never wanted it to end.

You weren’t ready to wake up, not yet ready to face the day. Light was streaming in through the curtains, but you were sure that it was still morning. You’d spent the night alternating between fucking, eating and napping. Sessions of frantic desperation followed by cuddles and the press of the heat of his body against your own.

Your phone rang again.

“Ignore it,” your boyfriend grumbled, voice thick with sleep. He pulled you against him with a thick arm, stopping you from even thinking about moving. He’d put on muscle while he was in hell, a lot of it, and while he’d been strong before, now he was an unyielding wall, you were stuck until he let you move.

Again, there were a few moments of blissful silence, before the damn thing started ringing again.

“Fuck,” Dante growled, releasing you from his grip. You tilted your head back, watched as he reached up with a hand to brush his messy hair from his face. “Better be important,” he muses, rubbing sleep from his eyes while you groped your bedside table desperately.

The screen was blurry, your eyes not adjusted to the light, and you couldn’t make out who it was.

“What?” you answered sternly, voice hoarse from sleep, and from screaming out in pleasure throughout the night.

“I can’t handle Vergil anymore,” said the frantic, slightly tinny voice, and you realised that it was Nero, at the absolute end of his tether.

“Nero, it's the first thing in the morning, I can’t.”

“It’s 3pm,” he interrupted you, “please, I can’t take another night of this.”

“Nero,” you groaned.

“Look I’ll be over in an hour, to drop him off. Please be decent, please,” he begged, then he was interrupted by a child’s scream, before he hung up.

“Fuck,” you sighed, throwing your phone to the mattress. You knew that Dante had heard the whole thing, his hearing good enough to work out the words coming from the speaker.

He moved in behind you immediately, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you. He tilted his hips, nestling his very hard cock between your legs while nuzzling against the back of your neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

You reached back to touch his cheek, “we don’t have time,” you groaned. He just snapped his hips, knowing that eventually you’d give in. “Dante,” you scolded him, but he just started groping your breast instead.

You desperately wanted to stay in bed, but you knew that even he’d end up regretting it if you gave into him. So, with reluctance you pushed him off, throwing yourself out of bed. Your legs shake, your body aches, and it’s fucking good. You looked back, seeing your lover cocooned in the blankets. It’s been so damn long, and your heart aches, you contemplate giving in, and just crawling back into bed with him, but then you feel a slight shift, and the sticky evidence of last night begins to trickle down your leg.

Dante’s attention snaps to it immediately, something in his brain shifting. “You can’t meet my brother with my cum dripping down your leg,” he exclaims, throwing himself out of bed.

Somehow you manage it, ending up downstairs and thoroughly clean exactly 55 minutes later. You’d had another round in shower, two of them actually, and then a long tongue that you’d missed far too much had cleaned away all of the traces of your activities.

And so you wait, nervous and uncertain, to meet the famous twin brother that you’ve heard so little about. Dante has his arm around you, thumb brushing against your shoulder to soothe you, he doesn’t seem concerned, and it puts you a little bit at ease, but then you think about how frantic Nero had sounded on the phone, and wonder if he’s actually as bad as he’s been made out to be.

You hear footsteps walk up to the door, and the bell to the shop chime. You take in a deep breath as the door opens, turning to Dante, who gives you a reassuring smile, before you turn back, and prepare for whatever the hell might come next.