#season three immediately the superior season

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

“I want to be with you.”

The most wholesome commission for the lovely @dmajor7th ❤

Older royal Wilmon just being cute 🥰 Took the opportunity to integrate my headcanon that Wilhelm needs glasses lol

[findafight]

I do think it's wild that I used to be pretty neutral and even slightly supportive of byler, while not thinking it could (or should!) be endgame. But now I'm like. Actively bitter towards it just based on how I've seen fans act? I'm fed up with it. With theories (however plausible or outlandish) being treated as fact. Of the "canon or youre not a REAL fan" attitudes that are increasingly extreme.

Last July I was sent a dozen hate anons a bit over a year ago for saying I didn't think it made sense for byler to be canon within the final season, because what we have textually seen on screen has not prepared for the 180 Mike's relationships would have to take, but I've seen others get weird hate asks too. I also see what a large portion of shippers are calling "proof" and it's either something that is up for interpretation (which is fun and fine! But not definitive!) or they just made up. I've seen multiple people say milevens are toxic and homophobic etc but here on Tumblr I haven't seen that at all. (I'm sure there have been! But on Tumblr I think there's maybe... Three or so active milevens lol [I am not one] and they stay in their lane unless it's to beg bylers to stop cross tagging)

I've seen bylers make posts about mileven that are incredibly rude and act like they're superior for it! There's ableism and biphobia and homophobia and misogyny and all sorts of shit that always happens in fandom, but the level I've seen from bylers is bonkers (and yes! I am talking about bylers being homophobic! Acting like a character being gay only matters if he's in a relationship is homophobic!) I've only seen bylers consistently cross tag. I've seen them disregard all three characters involved with the love triangle and their motivations just to make byler happen, and it often comes down to them making all three two dimensional tropes and souless boring caricatures. The amount of denial around El's feelings is pretty offensive, and also boring!

I just think. Perhaps. If you don't like when people are consistently annoyed at the group of shippers, perhaps re-evaluate to see if you are the "positive community" you claim to be, or are actively attacking people who do not adhere to the increasingly rigid criteria you have decided are required to be considered a shipper, and immediately declaring someone who doesn't an "enemy".

[lightwise]

WHY MAYDAY IS A MIRROR OF REX (AND ALL OF CROSSHAIR’S BROTHERS)

AKA How Crosshair predicted his own redemption arc.

There have been many comparisons made between Mayday and Rex/The Bad Batch, but I have kept myself from ranting about The Outpost for too long and I figured I should get this out there before this week’s new episode hits. 

Crosshair is cynical and snarky when we meet him in The Clone Wars (as is the norm for his personality, but there’s a special edge to it in S7 E1). The first words out of his mouth are “we don’t usually work with regs.”

(I am not sure who first posted this image set, so if you know who to credit please reach out).

Now in TBB E12, the episode opens with Crosshair watching regular clones being told about the retirement bill by an imperial officer. His helmet is off and they have no armor on. He’s face to face with them. He seems interested in their conversation but is still removed, separate. He still thinks this doesn't affect him.

Once he ships out to Barton 4, we meet Mayday by hearing his voice before he rounds the corner into our view. The immediate thought that flew into my mind was, “that’s Rex’s voice.” Other than Rex himself, we as the audience and especially Crosshair as a character have not heard that warm, snarky, calm tone that signifies that commanding officer’s “regular clone voice” much this season. Mayday’s voice is a little deeper than Rex’s, but he has the same commanding yet casual tone and demeanor. As weary and frustrated as he is at the lack of support from the Empire, Mayday chooses to express it with a level of snarkiness that would have made Tech, Echo, or Rex himself proud. 

Or as Rex once said, "It's Captain, sir."

"Experience outranks everything."

Mayday and his squad are wrapped in mummified cloth strips, and he states that his men are all “dead. We’re all that’s left.” Three of them, to mimic the three troopers being forced into retirement that Crosshair had seen before arriving. They are dead men walking. And so are the rest of the clones. 

Mayday brings the light to Crosshair. And starts talking to him, man to man, like a friend. Like a brother. He asks him his name. Crosshair’s first encounters with Rex were Rex going after Echo, pulling him free from mindless programming and reminding him what his name really was. 

“What brought you here.” “Just lucky, I guess.” Luck isn’t a word that Crosshair typically uses to describe his experiences. He usually relies on and points out his superiority, his skills, his uniqueness. He knows he hasn’t engineered this meeting, and yet Mayday’s mannerisms are already starting to find the chinks in his metaphorical armor. 

“I’ll give you the lay of the land.” Like Hunter would. “Conditions have degraded our equipment.” Like Tech could have helped with. “I’m not an explosives expert.” Wrecker is. 

Mayday lays out the helmets of his fallen squad in a memorial, the same way Rex and Ahsoka do after order 66. Reverence and respect for the dead, even when it seems meaningless. Crosshair has let himself be deadened by the Empire, yet Mayday treats him with interest and respect, drawing him back out of himself. Mayday even shows the same respect for the raider who had been attacking his base, saying that he was bothered that his men had left him there to die. 

Crosshair is still throwing up his shields, like he did at the end of season 1 when he tried to convince his brothers to join him. “We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior.” 

And all of a sudden, Crosshair will die if Mayday doesn’t save him. If he doesn’t fully trust him to disarm the pressure mine he has gotten himself into. He has continued to choose to step in places that are a pressure mine waiting to go off, waiting to swallow him whole. And until now he has made enemies of anyone who has tried to help him.

Mayday saves his life, and now they’re working as a team, silently and in unison. They realize that all this effort and loss of life has been for mere equipment (that’s for their replacements, no less). Their lives really are worth even less than the epithet "used equipment" that Nolan spits in Crosshair’s face when they first meet. 

Hunter had tried to tell him on Kamino: “Can’t you see they’re using you? We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.”

Crosshair: “YOU weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I’m going to give you what you never gave me–a chance.” Only now, after Mayday gave him that chance, is he willing to admit that Hunter was right.

How many times have those words haunted Crosshair’s thoughts?

Now this was interesting to me. Crosshair incidentally causes an avalanche by targeting a group of explosives in order to end their shootout, cracks fissuring up the mountainside. Once before he was maneuvered into a situation not of his own free will (when his chip is enhanced on Kamino), yet he stubbornly pursued that scenario when he chose to stay on the platform at the end of season 1. Once again, he is put into a situation against his will by being brought to Barton 4, but this time, he ends up creating a scenario where his choices from this moment will now have the opposite effect.

Mayday shoves Crosshair out of the way, saving his life once again. A pile of snow rips Crosshair’s helmet off of his face, and as Mayday is buried, Crosshair re-emerges his true self. 

“We have to move.” Rex’s words throughout almost all of their Clone Wars arc. Rex is selfless, telling Echo to go with the Batch if that was the best place for him. Letting Echo leave him behind, essentially. Mayday begs Crosshair to leave him behind and save himself. They both want what’s best for others. And their examples rub off on the men they save. Echo constantly does what he can to help his brothers escape the Empire. Crosshair’s sheer stubbornness that up until now has kept him tethered to the Empire, refuses to leave Mayday behind. He can’t watch another brother die in front of him. Not anymore. 

"You're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too." Omega's plea to him.

So Crosshair risks his life to carry Mayday back. A REG. He refuses to let go of him the whole journey. He lets him use his sniper rifle as a crutch. All of his defenses are finally down, and he not only cares, but is willing to show he cares, BEGS ON HIS KNEES to his commanding officer for help, to show that he DOES CARE.

Finally, this struck me. We almost never see Crosshair using a hand blaster. He’s a sniper. Yet both in his encounter with his brothers on Kamino in season 1, and his confrontation with Nolan here, Crosshair picks up a regular blaster. He’s not being the sniper, distant and removed, making a kill from afar with his own rifle. This is up close, personal, a messy choice. With a hand blaster, a regular clone’s weapon. 

Crosshair’s conversation with Hunter on Kamino reads back as though he is pleading with himself to not make the same mistake twice, to stop running from his fears, to finally embrace who he is–a clone. To embrace his real purpose–protecting his brothers.  He’s made his choice. He doesn’t expect to survive. The vultures are circling both of them. In season 1 Hunter stuns him and he falls to his knees and then to the floor, passing out. Here, he snarls “Lieutenant,” in a sarcastic tribute to how Mayday had first addressed Nolan, and becomes an Angel of Death. He avenges Mayday and redeems himself, and once again falls forward and passes out with the last of his strength gone.

[celinin-archive]

Celestino Vietti, I’m one with the bike 

From the Piemonte Alps to Moto2. Interview to the SKY Racing Team VR46 talent 

“The most beautiful memory I have of my childhood is tied to a three wheels bike. My dad had built it for my older brother, using the engine of a grass trimmer. I used to look at my brother going around on it in the backyard, then one day I asked to try it: once I got on it I irremediably fell in love with engines. Once I got down from that first trial I immediately asked my dad to buy me a two wheels motorbike. “To have a bike without training wheels you first have to know how to ride with them”, was his answer. So I started training and at eight years old I found myself riding in my first italian championship...” 

Celestino Vietti is lightness, a youthly lightness, a mature lightness, a fast lightness, cheeky to the right degree. Not yet twenty, he’s approaching his first Moto2 season, wearing the SKY Racing Team VR 46 leathers on Marco Bezzecchi’s side. 

Leathers that ‘Celin’ paints with the colours of his region, Piemonte. Right in Coassolo Torinese, small settlement wedged between the Valli di Lanzo, two wheels racing had started indelibly marking his life. An atypical place, Alpi Graie, to be the natal place of a world championship level rider. A place that becomes typical as soon as you open wide the doors of the Vietti’s home. 

“My uncle and my dad have always been big enthusiasts. My dad even did some uphill races when he was young. I lived all my childhood in a motorsport enviroment. My relatives had and still now have an agricultural machine repair shop that rapidly became a mandatory stop of my summers. There I used to take apart chainsaws and everything else I could find. Now I realise that the time spent in the repair shop gifted me a better feeling with the engine, with mechanics. My dad also gave me a lot of tools to read and understand the bike’s problems: thanks to him my bond with the bike got to a superior level. It’s as if I feel more merged with what I have under me, I listen to every single sound, I know how to decipher and manage it...” 

A management that for this young promise of two wheels racing hasn’t been and isn’t limited to the technical side, overflowing in the character, human one. Sat in the shades of the WITHU paddock, what immediately hits you of Celestino are the lucidity in the self-analysis, the ease in communicating, in summarising the different steps he took in such a short, but already so full, life. 

“To follow my dream I had to move out of my home during adolescence. The first months were so fast, everything was new, new experiences, new acquaintances. Once you settle you start thinking that once you get home from training nobody is there to wait for you. Relatives, friends, everybody is distant, everything starts getting hard. I had to grow on a personal level and, consequently, as a rider. Situations like this teach you how to manage yourself on the emotional side: sometimes I tend to get angry easily, being this much on your own helps you to reflect, to remain lucid” 

Vietti’s growth was mainly through the motorsport Academy for definition, that two wheels paradise build by the tarmac’s ‘Doctor’. A restricted cenacle reserved only to those who are destined to make an art form out of racing. Disciples, students, riders waiting to see their own boundless talent explode. 

“Getting into the VR46 Racing Academy was a turning point. It's important to realise your luck, the privilege you have to train every day with the best riders in the World Championship. Every time you get on track it’s an enormous challenge, there’s always somebody faster than you. I try to look at everyone, we’re many, we’re ‘colourful’, everyone has a certain characteristic to learn from: I have by my side two World Champions and then Vale, my idol, I think there’s nothing else to add...” 

He slightly moves his hair out of the way, Celestino, when he talks about topics he’s particularly sensible about. He smiles, a sincerely emotional smile, when he gets asked what the bike means for him, for his being. A question that strikes way higher chords than the sports one. 

“When you go really fast you become one with her, you find a magic harmony. Whatever she wants to do, you do it too, you become one thing. When she wants to do one thing, and you want to do another one instead, you struggle. True struggle. You can feel the separation between the two bodies. For me the bike has some sort of life of his own: it’s something difficult to explain” 

Difficult to explain, evocative to listen to. There’s dept in the words of this barely more than teenager rider of the Sky Team. On him also weight hopes and expectations of many italian fans, charmed by his results in the 2020 Moto3 season and the two first places obtained in the Styrian and France GP. 

Celestino is lucid in his analysis of the big jump to Moto2, a natural jump, even though initially complex. The piemonte rider need a settling period, an adjustment phase that now appears completed, processed. To demonstrate it, an always growing confidence in placements and continuity of performances, an exponentially growing mental and sensorial presence. 

“The impact with Moto2 was difficult. It’s a very particular category, unlike Moto3 it rewards constancy, precision, the bike doesn’t want to be assaulted, you can’t afford to do ‘crazy’ lap and feel satisfied. You have to curate the rhythm, you need surgical attention. Now my goal is to get as high as I can in the standings, to continue with the positive feelings of the last races and to keep building up unity with the bike. The future? Everybody’s dream is to become world champion, it’s useless beating around the bush, I’ll work hard to be able to make it” 

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

OH

MY

GOD

omg! season 3 scene leaked!!!!! twitter*com/sasaaa4aaa/status/1713906612136550701

OH MY GODDDD WHAT THE FUCKKKK

[zapreportsblog]

HAHA i'm back again hi srry my mind is overloaded with ideas😭😭😭

can you do volturi (or just the kings idm) x newborn reader who has the power of life and death inducement (platonic or not idrc) Who doesn't love an extremely overpowered y/n HAHAHHAHAHA ik i do!!!

❝your end and your beginning ❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) awakes as a freshly turnt vampire and the first thing she wants to know is does she have any cool powers? So with the help with her the other guards she finds that she can does indeed have powers and ones that the volturi are lucky to have on their side

✭ authors note : well welcome back then

✭ twilight masterlist

The darkness enveloped her as she lay motionless, suspended in a realm between life and death. (Y/N) had always been aware of the existence of vampires, the elusive creatures of the night that haunted the realm of myths and legends. Little did she know that soon, she would become one of them.

Her journey to this otherworldly existence had begun weeks ago, when she was selected by the three vampire kings themselves. Chosen for a destiny she couldn't fathom, her life had taken an unexpected and perilous turn. The transformation had been agonizing, a relentless torment that seared through her very soul. It felt as though her very essence was being torn asunder, only to be rebuilt with newfound strength and power.

The moment she awoke anew, (Y/N)'s senses were immediately heightened. The world was no longer shrouded in darkness; instead, it was bathed in an eerie, crimson glow that revealed details she had never noticed before. Every sound was amplified, every scent a vivid tapestry of the world around her. The hunger, that insatiable thirst, clawed at her throat.

Her first instinct was to test her newfound abilities. She needed to understand the extent of her power and how to control it. Pushing herself to her feet, (Y/N) hesitated for only a moment before making a decision. She would call upon the other guards chosen by the kings, her comrades in this new existence.

With a thought, she summoned the twins, Alec and Jane. They appeared before her like wraiths emerging from the shadows, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"What is it, (Y/N)?" Alec inquired, his voice like a whisper of silk.

"I wanted to know if you could could train me,” Alec raises a brow at her as if he knew there was more to just this training she suggested and urged her to continue, “And I also wanted to see if I had any abilities," she replied, her gaze determined. "I want to see what I can do."

Jane nodded in agreement, her crimson eyes locking onto (Y/N)'s. "Very well, let's see what you've got."

As they began to train and test her newfound powers, Felix and Demetri approached cautiously. These two were seasoned guards, their loyalty to the kings unwavering.

"May we join the training?" Demetri asked, his tone respectful yet inquisitive.

(Y/N) considered their request for a moment. She was well aware that their skills were far superior to hers, and she had much to learn. "Yes, but only if you promise to train me," she responded, a note of determination in her voice.

Felix cracked a half-smile, revealing his sharp fangs. "We'd be honored to help you, (Y/N)."

Underneath the oppressive weight of the castle, the dungeons sprawled out like a dark labyrinth. This was where the guards typically trained newborn vampires, where stone walls bore witness to countless battles and training sessions. As the chosen guards of the three kings, Alec, Jane, Demetri, and Felix led (Y/N) down into the depths of the castle, guiding her through the dimly lit corridors.

Felix was the first to speak as they descended into the dank underground chambers. "This is where we hone our skills, (Y/N)," he said with a sly grin. "Prepare yourself for a taste of true vampire training."

(Y/N) met his grin with a determined nod. She had come to embrace her new existence as a vampire, and this was her opportunity to prove herself. Felix's offer to be her training partner was a challenge she eagerly accepted.

"Alright, big guy," she replied, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Let's see if you can handle me."

In an instant, the cavernous training room became their arena. The shadows danced around them as the others stepped back to watch the clash of strength. Felix and (Y/N) circled each other, their eyes locked in unwavering focus.

The fight began with a blur of motion. Felix lunged at (Y/N), his movements fluid and precise. She countered with agility and speed she had never known before, dodging his attacks with grace. Their movements were like a violent ballet, each one testing the other's limits.

As the battle raged on, Felix's immense strength became apparent. He was relentless, his blows powerful and calculated. (Y/N) had to rely on her agility and quick thinking to avoid being overpowered. But she refused to give in, her determination burning brighter with each passing moment.

Then, in a split second, Felix managed to land a powerful blow, sending (Y/N) sprawling across the stone floor. She grunted in pain but quickly pushed herself back onto her feet.

Felix chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed through the chamber. "Not bad for a newborn," he taunted.

The taunt hit a nerve, and (Y/N)'s emotions flared. Her anger, intensified by her newfound vampire abilities, surged within her. With a flick of her wrist, she sent an invisible force toward Felix.

Time seemed to slow as Felix froze in place, his eyes wide with surprise. He stood immobilized, as though trapped in a momentary stasis. The others watched in astonishment as he teetered on the brink of balance before finally collapsing to the floor.

Demetri's incredulous expression mirrored the bafflement in his mind. He had seen countless battles and faced numerous opponents, but what he had just witnessed left him bewildered. "What even just happened?" he muttered, his voice tinged with confusion.

(Y/N) stood over the immobilized Felix, her heart pounding in her chest. Panic began to creep into her as she tried to wake him, shaking him gently, but he remained unresponsive. "Felix, come on!" she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Her attempts to rouse Felix only escalated her panic. Desperation welled up inside her, and she could feel the powerful emotions threatening to spiral out of control. She glanced at Alec, who had been watching the scene unfold with a concerned expression.

Alec stepped forward, his eyes locking onto (Y/N)'s with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "I need to numb your emotions," he said firmly.

(Y/N) nodded, unable to speak as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Alec extended his hand, and a soothing wave of calm washed over her. It was as though a heavy fog had settled in her mind, dulling the frantic panic that had taken hold.

Demetri, still bewildered, retreated from the training area to alert the kings about the unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, Jane approached Felix, her crimson eyes focused. She reached out with her own unique power, attempting to rouse him, but there was no response.

She persisted, her brow furrowing in concentration, but it was as though Felix had been locked in time. The others watched, tense and worried, as minutes passed without any sign of change.

Finally, the kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, accompanied by another formidable vampire, entered the training chamber. Aro's eyes, which seemed to miss nothing, scanned the scene before him.

Alec, sensing their presence, withdrew his powers from (Y/N), allowing her to regain control of her emotions. She gasped for breath, still shaken by the events.

Aro, with his perceptive gaze, turned his attention to (Y/N) and inquired gently, "My dear, what happened here?"

Trembling, (Y/N) recounted the events that had transpired—the fierce training with Felix, her newfound power, and the inexplicable immobilization of her training partner. Panic threatened to overtake her once more, but Aro's calming presence held her in check.

Caius and Marcus exchanged knowing glances, while the other vampire in their company observed with keen interest.

Aro stepped closer to (Y/N), his voice soothing. "You have a unique gift, my dear," he said, his tone filled with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. "One that we have never encountered before."

Aro's crimson eyes gleamed with curiosity as he watched (Y/N) closely. His fascination with her newfound ability had not waned since their encounter in the training chamber. He decided to delve deeper into this enigma and turned his attention to the other vampire who had accompanied them.

"Scan her, and tell us what you find," Aro ordered, his voice smooth as velvet.

The other vampire, whose power lay in the ability to discern the presence or absence of abilities in other vampires, stepped forward. Their eyes met (Y/N)'s, and in an instant, their expression shifted from curiosity to astonishment. Their eyes widened, an unprecedented reaction that had never occurred during their countless assessments.

Caius, growing impatient, broke the silence. "Well, speak already! Is this the doing of a gift, or are we wasting our time?"

The assessing vampire nodded slowly, their voice measured. "Yes, it is the result of a gift," they replied, their tone filled with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. "But it is unlike any gift we have ever encountered."

(Y/N) felt a pit of dread forming in her stomach. The anticipation in the room was palpable, and she couldn't bear the weight of their scrutiny any longer. "What... what is it?" she stammered, her voice quivering.

The assessing vampire hesitated, their gaze still locked onto her. "It appears that (Y/N) possesses the unique gift of life and death," they explained carefully. "She has the ability to both end and restore life to a vampire, even when they have been incapacitated."

A stunned silence fell over the chamber as the revelation sank in. Aro, Caius, and Marcus exchanged incredulous glances, while the other guards looked on in a mix of awe and uncertainty.

(Y/N) felt her heart sink as the implications of her power became clear. Her mind raced back to the training chamber and the moment when she had unintentionally restored Felix to life after immobilizing him. She had never meant to wield such a gift, and the consequences of her actions weighed heavily on her.

"I didn't know," she muttered, panic lacing her voice. "I didn't mean to..."

Aro raised a calming hand, his expression thoughtful. "There is no need for distress, my dear. Your gift is a remarkable one, and it may prove invaluable to the Volturi. We shall train you to control it and ensure that it serves our purposes."

Despite Aro's reassurance, (Y/N) couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at her. She had unintentionally brought back a fellow guard, altering the course of events in the most unexpected way.

(Y/N)'s heart raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity as she watched Felix being led away by Alec and Jane. She couldn't help but worry about what lay in store for her, especially after learning the true nature of her unique gift.

Turning her gaze to Aro, she voiced her concerns. "What's going to happen to me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Aro's smile remained serene as he responded, "Nothing to worry about, my dear. You will receive training to harness your abilities properly, and you will become a valuable asset to the Volturi."

Relief washed over (Y/N) at Aro's words. She trusted the guidance of the Volturi, despite the unexpected turn her life had taken.

Her gaze drifted to Marcus, who had remained silent during the discussion. His eyes held a deep understanding, and she couldn't help but ask, "What happened to Felix?"

Marcus sighed softly, his voice gentle as he replied, "It appears that when you used your abilities on him, it not only ended his life but also brought him back in a human state."

(Y/N) was stunned by this revelation. Her gift had the power to bring a vampire back to their human state? It was an astounding discovery, one that left her with more questions than answers.

The assessing vampire who had revealed her gift's nature stepped forward to explain further. "It's a complex interplay of life and death, (Y/N). When you unintentionally ended Felix's life and then brought him back, it seems to have triggered a transformation back to his human state."

Aro, his eyes gleaming with fascination, absorbed this information with a calculating expression. He said nothing but appeared to be pondering the implications of her gift.

(Y/N) was still trying to process the extraordinary turn of events. She hadn't meant to turn Felix human, and the fact that her abilities had such a profound impact on him left her bewildered.

"I didn't know," she whispered, her voice filled with remorse.

Aro, ever the observer, spoke softly, "My dear, your gift is a wondrous discovery. It may hold secrets and possibilities beyond our current understanding. Rest assured, we will study it further."

(Y/N) couldn't shake the overwhelming desire to see Felix. She had unintentionally changed his life, quite literally, and the weight of that responsibility weighed heavily on her. With the kings' permission granted, she was led to the room where Felix was being kept.

As she entered the room, her eyes widened in amazement. There he was, Felix, sitting on a bed and looking every bit like a human. It was a sight she couldn't have imagined, and it filled her with a mixture of awe and remorse.

Felix looked up as she entered, and a warm smile spread across his face. "Well, look who it is," he greeted, his voice tinged with amusement.

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude that he wasn't holding what had happened against her. "Felix, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

He waved off her apology with a chuckle. "No need to apologize, (Y/N). It's not every day you wake up as a human after being a vampire for so long. It's... an interesting experience."

Feeling a surge of relief and happiness, she couldn't contain herself any longer and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. But in her excitement, she momentarily forgot her newfound strength.

Felix winced, his face turning slightly red as he struggled to breathe. "Careful there," he managed to say through strained breaths.

Alec and Jane, who had been standing nearby, quickly stepped in. "Easy now," Alec cautioned. "Remember, he's human, and you have to be more delicate."

(Y/N) released her grip on Felix, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Felix. I forgot."

Felix let out a hearty laugh, his humor infectious. "No harm done," he assured her, his smile never fading. "Just reminds me how much it sucked being a human."

As the three of them shared a moment of laughter

The harmonious laughter between (Y/N), Felix, Alec, and Jane was abruptly interrupted as the door to the room swung open. Aro entered, his presence commanding immediate attention. His smile remained charming, but there was a hint of business in his demeanor.

"My dear (Y/N), I'm afraid it's time for you and the others to leave," Aro announced, his voice carrying a note of finality.

(Y/N) exchanged a worried glance with Felix, uncertainty gripping her. "But what's to happen to Felix?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Marcus, ever the one to speak the truth, stepped forward. "Felix is a valuable member of our guard, and we cannot afford to lose him," he explained. "He will be changed back into a vampire."

Aro nodded in agreement, adding, "It is the only way, my dear. Felix will return to his duties, and you will continue your training. We have a destiny to uphold."

(Y/N) felt a mixture of relief and sadness wash over her. She had grown fond of Felix in the short time they had spent together, and knowing that he would be changed back into a vampire was bittersweet. She nodded, her understanding clear.

The three of them, Alec, Jane, and (Y/N), prepared to leave the room, but not before one last look at Felix. His expression was a mix of gratitude and determination, ready to embrace his role in the guard once more.

As they exited the room, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility weighing on her. Her unique gift had brought about both wonder and challenges, and her journey among the Volturi was far from over. Felix's transformation back into a vampire was a reminder of the complexities of their existence, and it was a chapter in her story that would shape her path in ways she had yet to discover.

[the-bus-called-graveyard-8]

Madagascar in Nickelodeon Magazine (part 4 of 4)

This last part is some miscellaneous Madagascar content that has appeared in various issues of Nick Mag. I used to keep all my Nick Magazines in big binders so I could reread them, but some years ago I decided to finally get rid of them. I only kept a select few (the Madagascar ones, of course) but before I tossed the rest I flipped through five years' worth of issues looking for any scraps of Madagascar. I don't know which issues any of these bits and bobs are from, but here they are nonetheless!

First we have a prank DVD cover for an absurd mashup of several 2000s animated movies called "Flushed Through the Hedge in a Happy Car". One of the characters parodied is Alex the lion, and several aspects of Madagascar appear in film's description. Full transcript under the read more.

Front cover:

"Flushed Through the Hedge in a Happy Car"

A penguin, a taxi, one wild ride...

Starring Will Smith, Tom Hanks, Ellen DeGeneres, Wanda Sykes, and Luke Wilson

From the creators of "Charlotte's Open Barnyard"

Back cover:

A break-dancing New York City Penguin named Happy (Wanda Sykes) is accidentally shipped to a zoo in Mexico City. The homesick bird escapes and meets a hilariously sassy taxi named Turbo McCab (Will Smith), who offers to drive her home. Along the way, they get stuck in the woods during hunting season, freeze solid during an ice age, and visit an underground rodent city, where they pick up a tuxedo-wearing mouse named Wobbly (Tom Hanks). Just outside of New York City, Turbo gets a flat. A nerdy raccoon named AJ (Ellen DeGeneres) offers to take Happy over the hedge to find a spare.

Once in human territory, Happy becomes obsessed with Dancing in the Suburbs. Will Happy find happiness as a reality show star? Will her lion dance partner (Luke Wilson) ever learn his moves? Will Turbo ever get to race in the Madagascar 5000? Can penguins really talk? And who is paying for all of Turbo's parking tickets?

2-Disc DVD Collector's Edition

Bonus features include:

A step-by-step look at the 350-day process of creating convincing CGI fuzzy dice.

Deleted scenes that were cut because they stink real bad.

Voice talent farting into the microphone during recording.

Trailers for other penguin movies.

Director's commentary.

Director's dog's commentary

Rated P for Penguin

Digitally mastered for superior penguin cuteness

Next we have three ads I snipped out of different issues.

Top left: Madagascar video games

"Madagascar and the all new Madagascar: Operation Penguin

Go from the zoo to a place that's totally new

Rule the city and the jungle in two hit games based on the hit movie. In Madagascar, play as Alex, Marty, Gloria, and Melman in a wild adventure. Available on all video game consoles. In Madagascar: Operation Penguin, play as Private Penguin in madcap missions, available only on GameBoy Advance."

Bottom left: Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa video game

"Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa

For PS2, PS3, Xbox 360, Wii, PC, and DS

Play as all the main characters—including the penguins—through the story of the Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa movie.

Tip: In the soccer match in the In Madagascar level in single-player mode, Mort the lemur can be a tough goalie. Raise the Power Meter to the 75 percent mark and you can kick the ball over Mort's head and score nearly every time.

Zelda the roving reporter: Do you have a license to drive that?"

Right: TPoM world premiere

"What's New on Nick

Penguins of Madagascar

The penguins are back, and this time, it's for their very own show! Catch the premiere immediately after the Kids' Choice Awards on Saturday, March 28. And check out the first-ever Penguins of Madagascar online game at nick.com."

Lastly, we have this crossover comic of the Penguins with Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender. I don't have the cutout of this, but I distinctly remember seeing it in the Gag Station of one issue's Comic Book section. I was able to find it online but unfortunately I don't know the artist.

And that's every time Madagascar was featured in Nickelodeon Magazine!

[cho-aaacho]

Date Night ( Albert Wesker x Reader)

Masterlist I Archive Of Our Own

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Humor, First Dates, Boss/Employee Relationship, Soft Albert Wesker, Crushes, Date Night, Flirting, Reader is genderless

A/N : This time I'm writing from Wesker's POV. Thank you for reading!

My voice echoed as I called you in the hallway. My heart responded with a rhythmic beating, pounding in my chest like crazy. I could hear my blood rushing through my veins as excitement surged through me.

With a simple "Good morning," you smiled at me. I touched my heart in anticipation, but I failed to cover my red cheeks. Pretending like something never happened between you and me.

Chris believes my behavior has changed since your arrival. I am acting unreasonably. Maybe they've finally noticed the captain's weird demeanor over the past three months.

Yet, these emotions are seeds I planted in my heart. Every day, every time, it's been growing within me, blooming beautifully.

Perhaps, I seem insane and go crazy each time I gaze at you. I know you couldn't detect it under my shades, and I know you would never notice it because I've never shown it. The fact that you aren't part of S.T.A.R.S. makes me frustrated sometimes.

How can I draw near and reach your soul? How could I hear you calling my name when you're not on my side? It's frustrating me, really.

You turned, smiling, gracing me with calming eyes, their shapes akin to crescent moons in the night veil. Oh, how I ache for your aroma each time, each day—I miss every nuance. It's senseless. How do I feed my ego?

"Oh, Captain Wesker! Good morning. You look nice today. Do you need some help?"

Despite the fear, you stood gracefully on your own, throwing your gaze into me and avoiding a pointless banter. You captivate me, really. You're unlike any other officer. Why did I realize this so late? Such a fool.

"Oh, nothing, Officer. I'm sorry to call you this way. I just haven't found a good moment to talk to you."

Mesmerized, our eyes met, and, immediately, I daydreamed of a happy ending. Pathetic, perhaps, but that's the reality. What am I supposed to do?

"I thought you were still in the Arklay Facility. I assume your mission went well. So... what did you want to discuss?"

Smiling, I tried to release my calmness, showing my warm side and gentleness, trying to touch your soft spot.

"Thanks to the Alpha Team," I replied, using my sweetest voice.

"It's because you are their superior, Captain. I envy them sometimes." 

As winter falls, a chill of sorrow wraps around me, making me so lonely each time the snow touches my skin. Yet, you, with your calm and relaxed nature, have become a sun to comfort my cold side. Guiding me through this heart-wrenching season.

"Are you free on Saturday? I'm buying a new oven, and I've been trying to bake cookies lately. So... I want you to become my taster."

What the hell am I talking about? I don't even have a new oven.

But you.

You.

YOU!

How can you comfort me with a warm smile for someone with a stern and cold demeanor like me? I don't deserve that.

A serene smile danced upon your lips, but this time I couldn't predict what the smile was for. Perhaps you thought I was joking or talking nonsense. My azure eyes fixed on you, locking your eyes on mine, waiting for your response.

"It depends, Captain." You smirked, dragging me into the mysterious realm. What did you do to me? Why are you smirking like that? Is that a flirt? Are you trying to flirt?

"Oh, I'm sorry, Officer. But I don't understand."

Fits of giggles escape as your gaze falls into mine; undoubtedly, this is the most delightful smile I've ever seen this morning. I suppose I have a beautiful morning.

You said, "If other people ask me, I will answer that I am busy. But if you do, I'll say I have plenty of time..."

"So... it means—" I paused, trying to find fine words in my brain. But I can't think of a single word to describe it. My gaze meandered towards you, and I nervously smiled.

"Yes, I'm free. You can ask me anything at that time. My time is yours, Captain."

I found myself lost in the daydream and reality. My mind is trapped in a gentle fog without a light on it. What should I do now? Did you just accept my offer or—

"Captain, are you okay?"

A playful chuckle escaped my lips as I wrapped myself in my arm. "Oh, thank you, Officer. I thought you were going to reject my invitation."

"No. I love cookies, and I'm sure your homemade cookies are just as nice as you, Captain. See you tomorrow!" 

I made a fanart for this situation. Lmao.

[calltainn]

This caught me in my I-don't-want-to-go-to-sleep-yet danger zone and I put the first few hours of vote results (at 1,705 votes) into a spreadsheet.

Some observations: Anon's sibling's theory doesn't seem to have much support from the responses so far. The results so far are the opposite of what you'd expect to see if that were the case - a higher percentage of respondents who celebrate or observe a winter holiday get seasonal depression (62%) compared to those who don't celebrate a winter holiday at all (48% of them get seasonal depression). This suggests that anon's sibling is probably correct that winter holidays and seasonal depression are linked in some way, just not the way they expected. The causal relationship, direction, and mechanism are also not immediately obvious.

I offer two different theories to consider.

"Seasonal depression causes winter holidays" theory: Cultures with higher proportions of people who experience seasonal depression are more likely to develop winter holidays, perhaps with the hope or belief that it will counteract the negative feelings (whether that actually happens or not).

"Winter holidays cause seasonal depression" theory: The combination of winter and winter holidays results in more people experiencing seasonal depression than winter alone, perhaps because of the additional expectations and social pressures holidays can generate.

Separating those who celebrate a winter holiday from those who observe but don't enjoy a winter holiday provides some additional info (62% of the celebrators and 70% of the non-enjoying observers get seasonal depression), but it isn't clear if the observers' poor experience of the holiday triggers depression or worsens a mild seasonal low mood to the point of depression (which might support theory 2) or their pre-existing seasonal depression means they don't enjoy the holiday or both.

I would be interested to know the reasons why some respondents don't celebrate a winter holiday (e.g. is there no winter where they are or where their culture developed, or do they opt out of a winter holiday they could participate in if they chose) and how/why winter holidays correlate with variables that predict winter seasonal depression in general (I'm guessing latitude at a minimum). But those are queries to be investigated by someone who wasn't meant to be asleep an hour ago.

Personally, I suspect both causal relationships exist and contribute to higher seasonal depression among people who take part in present-day winter holidays. I'm most familiar with modern, relatively secular Christmas celebrations in Scotland and the UK, which are known to be associated with a lot of intense pressures and difficult emotions, so it seems plausible that could help push mild seasonal glumness into a stronger seasonal depression. On the other hand, I live in a fairly cold, high latitude country, which I would hazard a guess is likely to have a relatively high proportion of people who get winter seasonal depression, and I have long since thought that bright and cheerful winter holidays probably developed in such places in large part because without it winter can be fucking BLEAK.

Anon's sibling has a theory that people who don't celebrate a major holiday in winter are more prone to seasonal depression because they don't have festivities and holiday cheer to look forward to.

*"Major" holiday in the sense that it's a significant reason to celebrate personally, not necessarily just major calendar holidays– for example, Hanukkah isn't a major holiday by religious tradition, but some individuals love it and might consider it "major" on a personal level.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[cassiefromhell]

Clairvoyant: Visions (pt. 2)

Nanami Kento x International Sorcerer!Clairvoyant!Reader

Prologue (heavily encouraged to read this first.)

wc: 2.3k

warnings: mention of blood/gore (brief descriptions), very short sexual cues, SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS you MUST be finished with season 2 please & ty

a/n: requests are always open, submit shit, im bored <3

“Nanamin,” Yuji calls, finding his teacher standing in the back of the assembly hall, his face pale. “What does this mean?”

“It means we’re getting a visitor,” Nanami frowns, hands tensed at his sides. 

“Then why is everyone so worried?”

“Because,” Gojo joins in, grinning, having appeared out of nowhere. “Everyone here is a worrywart. Nothing is going to happen.”

“Did you not receive the code?” Nanami raises a brow. “The damned Reaper Repeller is coming. The kids don’t deserve to be lied to.”

“…What’s the Reaper Repeller?” Yuji tilts his head to the side. “Some weapon?”

“I met her a couple times,” Gojo’s smile widens. “She’s pretty damn cool. She’s part of the International Squad and can see the future, so when she shows up it either means that our superiors deemed that a mission needed an extra hand, or that she saw something and is coming to change what she saw. Last time, she saw that I was gonna make a building fall or something, so she gave me a certain set of rules, like what to not do. No buildings fell, so she’s pretty legit.”

“That was an 18C18 code,” Nanami grumbles. “That didn’t even require an assembly. This is an 18J18.”

“…What’s that one, again?” Gojo gives a sheepish smile.

“I’m so lost,” Yuji mumbles, looking between the two. “18?”

Megumi walks up, followed by Nobara, and joins the conversation. “This is a J?”

Nanami nods.

“How do you break down the codes?” Nobara adds.

Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The eighteens are for R and R, due to her nickname. The letter in the middle represents what she saw. For example, she showed up to Canada a few months ago on a code 18A18, which meant a battle would cause some sort of dispute that would stir trouble. B means she saw a civilian or two die. C means she saw mass civilian death. And so on, until J. It’s the maximum letter.”

“And?” Nobara pushes, raising a brow. 

“It means she saw something very bad, and everyone has been gathered to be told who is set to die.”

Stepping off the jet, you haul your suitcase behind you, and are immediately greeted by two men. You know them both — you studied the entire Japanese Sorcerer database on your way here.

Kiyotaka Ijichi, clad in a suit with a grimace on his face.

Masamichi Yaga, principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High and teacher to one of the students you watched die.

“We would welcome you, but we know you aren’t here with good news,” Yaga says with a sigh, straightening his uniform. “Please, follow us. Ijichi will take your bags.

The pilot of your jet is already helping Mila unload the twenty-three suitcases you brought, all full to the brim with weapons and necessary training items you handpicked to make sure you turn the gate of Shibuya.

“My associate will get them,” you gesture to Mila, who is currently hooking all of the bags onto her extra limbs, leaning back a little from the weight. You grip the handle of your singular personal suitcase.

The two men nod, not bothering to even try arguing with you. Why would they, when you’ve come with death biting your heels?

You slip sunglasses off of your forehead and over your eyes, following them as you approach three cars, sleek and black with a subtle Jujutsu symbol on the back license plate. 

It’s a short car ride over, one in which you and Mila sit silently in the back of a limo, while Yaga tries to ask you questions. Nobody gets a private briefing, that’s just how you operate. You avoid all his inquiries with vague comments, crossing your legs and sipping a glass of sparkling water. International sorcerers are known for kind of being hardasses anyway, so 

You pull up to the school in no time, and Yaga escorts you and Mila through the building, down hallways and around corners. Eventually, he stops outside a large set of double doors and turns to face you.

“This is the assembly hall. All of Japan’s sorcerers are gathered behind these doors,” he gestures to the entrance. “Please remember that we have children in there.”

“I know,” you whisper. “One of them dies.”

Yaga goes very still, and you walk past him, opening the doors and immediately finding yourself on a slightly elevated platform.

A massive crowd of dark blue uniforms stands before you, all falling quiet at your entry.

You step forward, approaching a podium. Mila has her spider limbs tucked away, as to not appear threatening. She hands you a stack of papers, and you gather them, placing them on the podium as you lean forward to speak onto the microphone.

“Good Evening, sorcerers. My name is (Y/n). I won’t stretch this meeting to be longer than needed. My technique is Clairvoyance, and I am here because I have seen the future of a battle here in Japan. It will take place in Shibuya, on October 31st.”

A murmur goes through the crowd, but you clear your throat to recapture their full attention.

“I do not want you to be afraid. My visions can be changed. Without me, there will be sorcerer death, irrevocable damage, and the snuffing out of thousands of lives, including civilians. But I am here to help. To do so effectively, I will call forward the names of the affected. I will save your lives. Stop you from losing limbs. Prevent disaster. Do not be afraid.”

The room goes deadly silent.

“Nanami Kento.”

And just like that, the crowd erupts once more.

A man in the back of the crowd — the blond that you saw burnt and ultimately exploded — nods to the pink-haired boy at his side and starts making his way through the crowd.

With a sharp raising of my hand, the crowd goes silent once more, as Nanami passes soldiers who give him solemn nods.

“Kugisaki Nobara.”

You continue calling names, until you have at least a dozen sorcerers in front of you. Too many are children. There are managers, too, and other people in suits. 

Your eyes skim the crowd, then fall back to your paper, which has crumpled in your grip. You call the last name, knowing what reaction you’ll get.

“Gojo Satoru.”

The crowd erupts, the room filling shouts and surprised cries and confused discussion.

The Untouchable.

You take a steadying breath at the rowdiness and gesture towards a private briefing room to your left, raising your voice to a shout.

“I will now ask for those who have been called to follow my associate here into a separate room. You all will be privately briefed. The rest of you… you will get the minimum details from your superiors.”

With that, you step back from the podium, and even more of the gathered sorcerers start shouting, demanding more details. You ignore them — you have to. Mila guides the called ones into a side room, just as you approach a small group of superiors and give them the very basics: there will be a city cratering, and the start of many bad, bad situations. You inform them that you will be making ideal teams for the mission, which you will release in a few days’ time.

With dragging feet, you force yourself to walk to the side room, where all of the ill-fated sorcerers are.

So far, at least.

Dealing with the future is a tricky business. Changing one thing, even so simple as this meeting, will cause different futures, which you will see and have to adapt to. 

You swing open the door, and find everyone already sitting at a long, oval table.

“I’m sure you’re all not happy to be here,” you take a corner of the room to stand in, crossing your arms and attempting to look as non threatening as possible. “Unfortunately, this meeting is necessary. I’ll call you each one by one into a private space, to be told what will happen without intervention. From there, we’ll talk about options—”

“(Y/n),” Gojo interrupts, leaning back in his chair like this is all just a game. “You know me. I don’t really need to be here, do I?”

“You do.”

“What’s gonna happen, I get a scratch? Lose a limb? Shoko will fix all of that,” he drawls, putting his hands behind his head.

“Gojo, you’re going to be sealed in a box, and then a shit ton of people are going to die or be injured trying to save your ass,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “You need to be here.”

No more arguments come.

You step forward, softening your expression, and your eyes land on the blond man, sans goggles — Nanami Kento. He’s handsome, even if in the back of your mind you still see that burned half of him. You decide he’ll be the first.

“Kento, right?” You drop the formalities — which you’re happy to do anyway, since you usually struggle with those when you’re in Japan. “Please, come with me.”

His jaw tenses as his eyes flick over you, and then he stands. You escort him into a small private room, closing the door behind you. There’s three comfortable chairs and a little coffee table, which has tissues and a pitcher of water with glasses on it. Comfort items, because people often cry.

Kento sits in one chair, and you take the one across from him. He’s exactly as you imagined in your vision. Tall, muscular, with a sharp jaw to match. He smells like vanilla and cedar. Except this time, the putrid scent of burning flesh is left out. He’s so… lovely.

“Lay it on me,” he clasps his hands together in his lap, after pulling his goggles off. 

You chew your bottom lip. You usually don’t have issues with this part of the process; the bluntness is part of your job. But something about this man is putting you off, making your mind stagger behind your duty. Typically, there’s a sniffling/worried/sobbing/angry person in front of you. But Kento? He’s so… ready for this. Not upset at all.

“You would die a hero,” you whisper.

Then you blink, realizing what you said. There’s no need for comfort here. Excessive sweetening of the truth is just counterproductive. And yet, something in you is screaming at you not to stop.

“In your current fate, a curse burns half of your body. And yet, you still fight. On death’s door, you would be noble. A good mentor for your students. One they would miss dearly,” a tear pricks at the edge of your eye. “The curse by the name of Mahito is the one to finish you off. But we will stop that path. You will live, that I can be sure of. I’m sure your future has already changed, just because this conversation is setting the base for the weeks of prevention training to come.”

If anything is going through his head, he doesn’t show it. “Does your technique show you when the future changes?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “In a way. My technique has a mind of it’s own. I can typically foresee imminent death a few moments before it happens, but I can also get mass visions like I got of Shibuya. If I need something more specific, like to see if your future changes, I would have to touch you, and then see what my technique gives… me…”

You trail off as he holds out his hand, eyes focused with intent. 

“Please,” he murmurs. 

You nod, slowly sliding your hand against his—

“Oh my gods, that’s a lot of roses,” your jaw drops, eyes widening at the sight before you. 

Your bed is littered with roses. The floor is covered in its petals. It’s beautiful, and the scent fills your nose with a loveliness like no other.

“You deserve every last one,” Kento grins, coming up behind you and kissing the nape of your neck. His arms slide around your waist. “For honoring me in being my wife.”

“Wife,” you giggle, tossing your head back to gaze up at him. “I’m never gonna get used to that. Mrs. Nanami,” your tone becomes sing-songy as you admire your engagement ring.

“Always and forever, my love,” he leans down, claiming your mouth with his. His thumbs rub against your hips, then move inwards, moving up and down the seam of your jeans crotch, as you feel him against your ass—

You pull your hand away quickly, blinking as you snap back to reality. You look to his hand, then to his face, but all you can see are his lips, those lips that kisses you better than you’ve ever been kissed in that vision—

“What did you see?” He asks, leaning forward. “What did you see?”

You open and close your mouth. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Well…” you start, chewing your lip. “…You live past Shibuya, that I’m certain of.”

Relief crosses his face, and he relaxes, all as your heart pounds harder.

You glance down at your left hand, the hand that now feels too light without a diamond on it. Then you glance back up to him, and even though his expression gives nothing away, you know from that vision that something else is brewing in that beautiful, beautiful head of his.

Because this man? Nanami Kento?

He’ll be your husband.

taggies: @vxmethyst @techs-ass @gasp-a-homo @doubtsanduncertainties (me when tumblr isn't showing you as a user when tagging: ) @vee-ai

want to be tagged on the next part? comment and ask!

[wharfspider]

after watching all of msm 2017, my official hot take is that it’s really funny (and more than a little disappointing) that they did something fun and original by making their Doc Ock Peter’s Guy in the Chair after the Superior Spider-Man arc, only to kill him off almost immediately and struggle to fill his role for all of season three until the show’s potentially covid-induced death. Seriously, the number of times a scene with Max Modell or Grady (ESPECIALLY GRADY LATER ON) would pop up and I’d be like “oh, this is what they’d be doing with Otto if he were still alive” is ridiculous. I don’t wanna complain just because I like Otto and he died, but if you still have things for his type of character to do, and the audience is already attached to him…why not just keep him around to do those things???? (Esp bc imho he had way better chemistry with Peter and the rest of the cast and was just generally a more fun character to see overall. Also I don’t like how Anna Maria got completely written out of the show once he was gone ☹️)

[safflowerseason]

old dan x amy fanfiction

I'm trying to flex my rusty fanfiction writing muscles, and going through old files I found this old Dan x Amy story that I never finished. It was a fill-in-the-gaps fic set between S2 and S3 and the tentative summary was : "The two months between seasons two and three, or, the story of how Amy and Dan went to Mike’s wedding together." I always thought this was a kind of interesting period in the relationship...by the end of S2 Dan and Amy have clearly settled into their banter-y "work spouses" relationship and they start S3 literally attending a wedding together. But at the same time, they are also in open competition for the role of campaign manager...I was always intrigued by in the dynamics of that transition. Anyway, I never finished it--it got very long and unwieldy, surprise surprise--but if there are any old Dan/Amy fic readers still out there I thought I'd post the first few pages here. There's quite a bit of general ensemble banter as well, related to Mike's wedding. Enjoy!

The morning after they learn that POTUS (officially, cross his precious heart, no turning back now) will not be running for a second term, Dan comes into the office with a giant stack of paper and starts piling it ostentatiously all around his desk. 

“What is this? Some sort of political mating ritual? Are you building a nest egg?”

“Well now you wouldn’t know enough to say, would you, Amy?”

Unfortunately, Amy doesn’t have a good response immediately—she was up until 2am brainstorming campaign strategies, and she knows Dan was up until at least 1:45 because they were texting ideas back and forth until then—so she just returns to her coffee and Post headlines and ignores him while he bustles around trying to make as much noise as possible. 

Selina comes in late, trilling with brittle laughter and smiling manically—Gary trails her, looking mildly repulsed and mutters “Andrew” in Amy and Dan’s general direction. Amy grimaces and adds “figure out a way to get rid of Andrew permanently” to her list of things to do before the campaign starts. She wonders if it would be considered a misuse of government forces to have Special Ops just take him out.

Andrew notwithstanding, the mood in the office is better than it has been all year. Mike whistles when he gets back from the press gaggle and Dan doesn’t immediately tell him to shut up. People actually use the world “please.” Amy’s fully cognizant something is going to blow it all up soon, but for now, she’ll let them enjoy the first morning in a long time where they don’t have to feel bad about the trajectory of their careers. 

At the morning strategy meeting, they talk about the best way to move forward until POTUS announces he won’t be running, discuss events to add to or remove from the public schedule in light of the upcoming campaign, and at the end of the meeting Dan brandishes his giant stack of paper and announces: “Ma’am, it’s time for you to publish your book.”

“Oooh!” Gary exclaims. “A book! Can I be in it?”

“You’re definitely not in it, Gary.”

“Yeah, Gary, what would you be doing in my book?” Selina demands, and Gary slinks back into the corner. “Dan, is it really the right time for this kind of political kabuki?”

“We need to lay the foundation for your presidential run in a non-threatening manner by reintroducing you to the public in a way that subtly separates you from POTUS. A book tour is the best way to do that, and unfortunately, ma’am, we need a book for a book tour.” 

Amy regards him suspiciously: he’s doing that thing where he appears to sincerely care about his job. This is always cause for deep concern. 

“Ma’am, do I have to write a whole book now?” Mike asks, looking forlorn. Dan glares and unceremoniously dumps the stack of paper in his lap. Mike grunts. “What the fuck do you think this is, Mike? Your obituary?”

“Wait, you’ve already written it?” Amy exclaims, completely non-plussed. “Since yesterday?”

“Please Amy.” says Dan, looking superior.

“Well Dan, I’ve got to hand it to you…it looks like I won’t have to write a single word myself, which is, obviously, the ideal.” Selina’s already flipping through the chapters, looking interested in spite of herself (then again, it is a book about her). 

“It’s basically written, ma’am, we’ll just need to do a few informational sessions about your political career and personal life, to add in some expository information.”

“That sounds excruciating.” Selina sighs. “But if you think it’s absolutely necessary…”

“I promise you that I will make the experience as pleasant as possible.” Dan smiles the smile he gives rich political widows and young women with babies. Amy gets a very bad feeling in her stomach. 

“This is a trap but I can’t figure out how.” she mutters to Mike, and he just nods bleakly.

~*~

Everyone’s about to disperse when Mike calls out casually “Oh yeah, if everyone could finalize their RSVPs to the wedding by Tuesday, that’d be great.” 

The silence he is met with is deafening. 

“…what wedding?” Amy finally ventures.

Mike looks at her. “My wedding.”

“To who?”

“Whom.” Gary corrects, and then flinches as Dan glares at him. 

“My fiancée.” When they all look blank, Mike says, in a more annoyed tone of voice “You guys, we got engaged three months ago! We sent the invitations right after!”

“Mike, I have matters of global significance to attend to that are infinitely more important than your personal life. Infinitely more important.” 

“And who checks their mailbox in the twenty first century?” Dan muses. 

“Hey, I do!” Gary pipes up. “I knew you were getting married, Mike.”

“Sue!” Amy yells out. “When’s Mike’s wedding?”

“June 17th.” Sue reports promptly from her desk. “It’s tentatively on the veep’s schedule.”

“Jesus Christ,” exclaims Selina. “You scheduled your dumbass wedding right as prep for the primaries take off. Really, Mike?”

“Yeah, Mike.” Dan echoes sycophantically.

“It’s not like we knew you were going to run, ma’am.”

“Okay.” Amy clears her throat. Everyone falls silent. “Congratulations. Who is the…who is the woman?”

“Wendy Collins. She’s a fashion reporter for the Post.”

“A journalist?!” Selina explodes. The morning goes downhill from there.

~*~

Amy sends an intern home to sort through three months of unopened mail and retrieve Mike’s wedding invitation. The intern comes back with a lavender invitation printed with navy sail boats. 

“I can’t tell if you’re having a boy or getting married.” Dan snarks. 

“Oh my god, Mike, don’t you fucking dare have a kid.” God, a kid, can you fucking imagine, Amy would sooner slit her wrists. “I’m not getting stuck with just Dan on the campaign trail, he was the worst press secretary since whoever’s job it was to manage Hoover’s image.” Dan gives her the finger behind Selina’s back.

“I suppose it wouldn’t play well with the public if I didn’t attend my own press secretary’s wedding.” Selina sounds like she would rather do literally anything else. 

“Cheer up, ma’am. It’s entirely possible there could be a nuclear stand-off or a global health crisis that will require your attention.” Sue replies stoically.

“God, here’s hoping.” Selina stalks back into her office.

“I don’t know why you’re all so cranky, I love weddings. Sue, put it in big, bold letters so we make sure to schedule around the day.” 

“I think I can do my job without your input, Gary. ” 

“Gary!” Selina shouts from her desk. “I need some caffeine before my meeting with the Speaker, and if I could get it, you know, before I die…”

“Coming, ma’am.” 

~*~

“So when did you actually write this?” Amy asks Dan, later that afternoon. He’s commandeered the white board and is writing words like inspiration and reflection all over it in big letters. “Seriously. Even you cannot bullshit this fast.” 

“Oh, Amy.” Dan smirks. “Sweet, innocent Amy. You think this book is original? I’ve got ten different versions of it. You just change the background information depending on the politician, and boom—instant book.”

“So you’re just mindlessly reproducing soft bullshit narratives that appeal to the lowest common denominator of the American electorate.”

“Yep.” replies Dan, gleefully. “And it’s going to get her elected.”

~*~

A week after they learn about Mike’s wedding, Gary mopes into the office looking like a drowned possum. Selina’s in an endless meeting with the HUD secretary, and he spends the entire morning sighing dramatically over his desk until Sue finally snaps and asks him what’s wrong. 

“Dana and I had another fight….” he lowers his voice, “…about Selina.” 

“Dana who?” asks Dan. 

“I really feel like we all need to get better at remembering information about each other’s personal lives.” Mike complains. 

“We absolutely do not.” Amy contradicts. 

“It’s all right for you, everyone knows you’re dating Ed because he already works for Selina.”

“Yes, and I really regret that fact.” Also she’s not entirely sure they’re still dating, but she’s sure as hell not going to mention that in front of Dan. 

(It has become a-moment-to-which-they-do-not-ever-refer, when Dan had asked her to “grab a bite” after Catherine’s party, whatever that had meant and she couldn’t, because she had a date with Ed, and then Dan got inexplicably wasted with Jonah at Catherine’s make-up birthday dinner and they bonded over acting like jealous Neanderthals. But then the next day Dan called Jonah a malformed super-alien who emerged from leftover godzilla jizz, didn’t mention Ed, and everything went back to normal.)

“So what happened with you and Dan?” Ed asked, the next time they went out. “Did you, like, break his heart or something?”

“He…really hates Boston.” Amy mumbled into her whiskey, and then wondered what the fuck she was doing making excuses for Dan Egan. 

So anyway, they don’t talk about it.)

“Can we focus on me, please?” Gary’s demanding loudly. “Dana’s so mad that I’m still working here. She won’t even let me touch the cheese anymore.”

“So quit.” Dan suggests, sweetly.

“Dan,” Amy says warningly. Selina would have a fucking meltdown.

“Nice try, Dan.” Gary spits. “Selina already told me I can’t.” 

“So break up with Dana. She stole Selina’s lipstick and leaked your precious code to the press. She’s obviously trying to destroy your career.” 

“You have to be a man about it, Gary.” Sue tells him. “I know it’s an unfamiliar concept.”  

Gary agonizes all day. Mike ends up taking him out for a drink after Selina’s left for the evening. They come up back absolutely shit-faced around nine in the evening with the news that Gary is now officially Mike’s unofficial wedding planner. 

“How much did you have to drink?” Amy asks, disgusted. 

“Two margaritas.” Gary giggles. “And we decided on yellow as an accent color for the wedding.” 

“Wow.” says Dan. “I didn’t even know it was possible for you to be even less than a man than I thought.”

“Dan, how is Gary’s bag any different than what you carry around?” Mike slurs.

“Uh, mine isn’t filled with lipstick and tampons, for starters, Mike.” 

“No, just hair gel and skincare products.” Amy deadpans, and is rewarded when Dan gives her a dirty look over Gary’s head.

“You guys, this is extremely unprofessional behavior.” Jonah announces sanctimoniously, from where he’s lurking in the corner. “POTUS would not be pleased if he knew this is how the veep manages her office.”

“Jonah, you literally announce it when a female press aide gives you her business card to give to Kent.”

“They give me more than their business cards and you know it, Dan.”

In the end she and Dan have to put Gary to bed on the couch and pour Mike into a cab, and it doesn’t even make the top thirty list of humiliating things Amy’s done in the course of her tenure as VP chief of staff. 

“Why do I feel like Selina’s entire campaign is going to be us babysitting these idiots?” Dan mutters as they watch the cab disappear into traffic.

“Feel free to jump ship at any time, I won’t stop you.” 

Dan bares his teeth at her, that fake-innocent smile that’s definitely going to land him in prison one day. “Sorry, Ames, you’re not going to the moon without me.” 

“Pity that.”

 ~*~

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Dan is an obnoxious dickhead about Selina’s book. 

Due to the need to get the manuscript to print as quickly as possible, he demands an hour of one-on-one time with Selina every morning so he can mine anecdotes about her personal life and political career. Selina overrules both Amy and Sue and actually gives it to him. Something about how Andrew thinks the book is a good idea too. Fucking Andrew.

Well, that’s perfectly fine. Amy has plenty to do to prepare for the upcoming campaign, and it’s all much more important than Selina’s book. It absolutely does not matter that Dan always emerges from these private sessions looking even more smug than he usually does (if such a thing were possible). As though he knows all kinds of new secrets about Selina. Which he doesn’t. Amy already knows everything that needs to be known, and Gary knows what nobody needs to know.

Mike’s too preoccupied with his upcoming wedding to really make a pretense of caring about the book—or about work in general, so Dan’s writing and handling more of Mike’s duties (whatever they are, if he’s ever handled them, which is debatable). Theoretically, as chief of staff Amy should step in and make some noise about equitable handling of the VP’s communication strategy blah blah blah. But she figures Mike’s in love and Dan, as much as it pains her to admit it, has never shied away from more work.

*

Summer sets in over D.C., and the days get long and humid. The interns dig out the floor fans from storage, and Gary starts keeping scented silk handkerchiefs for Selina to dab on her neck and forehead whenever they have to cross the street. Dan bans Mike from coming anywhere his desk or personal items—“in case you contaminate anything with your flop sweat”—and Amy starts getting multiple invitations for Brookheimer summer family reunions that she, mercifully, has no time to attend. 

The House dithers over a pharmaceutical bill that’s dead on arrival in the Senate. Ben and Kent pop in from time to time with presidential updates. POTUS is reportedly planning a bunch of foreign policy spectacles in order to show off how relevant he is: state dinners, a tour of some East African refugee camps, a summit with Japan and South Korea…

“That’s just fine.” Selina tells Ben, her eyes glinting opportunistically. “Tell him he can spend the entire summer on his impotency tour. I’ve got everything under control here, in the actual United States of America.”  

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Ben replies, his mouth twisting into a smirk in spite of himself. “Try and contain your glee, ma’am.” 

They go to Baltimore to talk about violence in schools, then to Pennsylvania to talk to some steel workers. On the way back, Gary makes Mike a pros and cons chart about different kinds of wedding cake. 

Andrew lurks, popping up occasionally to take Selina to dinner or try and convince Sue to put some sketchy fundraiser on the schedule. She, Dan, and Sue develop a strategy to get him out of the office. Whenever he lingers, Amy gets a convenient call from the director of the Office of Investigations over at Treasury, and Andrew disappears within three seconds flat. It’s remarkably effective.

In between his information sessions with Selina, downplaying the inevitability of Selina’s campaign to the press, meetings with Amy on the Hill to try and derail a trade war with Mexico, and thinking of even more creative nicknames for Jonah, Dan writes the book.

~*~

It is, as Amy suspected, saccharine garbage. 

“Dan, you know this…this is fucking terrible, right?”

She’s perched on the arm of the loveseat; Dan’s sprawled over it, taking up a truly excessive amount of space with his long legs and arms. There are balls of paper scattered all around. Writing, based on the way Dan goes about it, looks a lot like dramatically crumpling up pieces of paper and lounging around on various pieces of furniture like he’s Jack fucking Kerouac.

“I mean, thank God you’ve already negotiated the publishing deal, because this is some serious—“

Dan throws a ball of paper at her. “You want your own book, get in line, Brookheimer.”

“Written by you? Pass.”

“Someone had to write it, Amy.”

“Like there aren’t fifty ghostwriters in this town more qualified than you.”

“I dare you to find even one.”

“Guys,” Sue intervenes, without even looking up from her computer. “Take it outside, please.” 

[simowis]

Javik's past, and his former comrades.

I tried to draw the Protheans differently, they used to be all over the galaxy, and the citizens of each starfield should look different. head carapace, skin colour, markings and maybe other aspects.

and with a short episode:

______

They had just entered 'adulthood'. Nowadays, the age of 'adulthood' for citizens of the Imperial Era seemed to be 'juvenile' as defined in previous eras.

Javik had just been promoted. Now the three remaining protheans in the team were all his men.

"Share, share, share. No one should keep the good news to themselves. Fin' said and put his hand on, and 'Blade', of course, put his elbow on Javik's shoulder.

He didn't push back and immediately closed his eyes to relive all the passages of his promotion,  including the excitement he couldn't contain as he made his way back to camp.

"Ah~~that's nice, even better when it's me". 'Fin' grinned. Not at all like a subordinate facing a superior.

Javik winked: "Don't worry, I'll see what goodies this new rank can get later. Everybody will share it!"

'Blade' nodded at him: "Don't come back with food again. Get me the latest accessories for my lasergun!

"In your dreams". Javik didn't even look at him. There weren't many resources in this war zone, they often took the weapons of fallen comrades or enemies and dismantled them.

'Blade' nudged him as he flashed a small Echo shard. "Check it out, I've got contact details for some of your old comrades-in-arms."

…………

"She's checking in again, it's good she's on the home front." Fin' read the tiny bit of information in this fragment together with Javik.

Javik sighed in relief, "I'm glad she's all right, it's a pity we're getting further and further apart, it would be nice to see her again in the future."

'Fin' grinned wickedly, "You can wait until the season comes up to find her, yay~"

"Hush! What are you talking about?"

'Blade' threw the shard towards Javik, "Go tell her the good news about getting promoted."

Javik caught it in his hand. "Thanks, I'll check the accessories for you."

"Hee hee, cool dude." 'Blade' ran off to service his gun. He really liked guns.

*Translated by DeepL

_______

[anime-fan-05]

Hi! Could you please do Aot characters x Fem reader who has uta's devil fruit ability in one piece film red? It's okay you if you hadn't watched the anime 😋 thankyou!

Attack on Titan ~Characters with a reader with Uta's Devil Fruit's same ability~

Manga/anime: Attack on Titan

Warnings: spoilers of the first season of the anime

I've never read/watched One Piece, so I had to do a bit of research on her powers. I hope nothing is wrong!

Some information about the reader:

- Reader has a beautiful voice;

- Reader has eaten Uta Uta no Mi (Sing-Sing Fruit), a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that allows her to teleport people's consciousnesses into a virtual space by singing;

- Her weakness are Uta World can only be maintained as long as she remains awake and it consumes a lot of stamina, potential targets can protect themselves from her power by blocking their hearing from her music, and obviously she must be in a position to sing.

Eren, Armin and Mikasa fell in love with your voice as soon as you opened your mouth for the first time: you remind them of the warmth of their mothers, so much so they were slightly moved. With all of them you've the opportunity to expand and train your powers: you can fight against Eren's titanic form, Armin tries to find methods to allow you to make other uses of your powers, and you train your resistance both physically and about your power with Mikasa.

Whenever they can, Jean, Sasha and Connie ask you to teleport them into your virtual space (they always get a scolding from your superiors for making you waste your powers), especially if you're able to create an always different space (needless to say, but Sasha loves every space involved with food). Furthermore, sometimes they put themselves in dangerous situations just to hear your beautiful voice scold them, or they do everything they can to make you talk.

Annie was particularly wary of you: after all, you've a very dangerous power, and she thought you could ruin her mission. What vexed her the most was the fact she was interested in your powers and thought your voice was relaxing: she started avoiding and treating you badly. However, while she's imprisoned in her crystal, she greatly appreciates your words to her: you make her feel calmer.

The first time they heard you sing, Reiner and Bertholdt started crying: your voice reminded them so much of their home they couldn't hold back their tears. They initially approached you out of curiosity and to extract information from you about your powers, but they soon began to warm up to you and appreciate your voice and powers. They would gladly die murdered by you if it meant being killed by your technique.

Levi wants to protect you in every way, both because you've very useful, important and valuable powers, which could help the Survey Corp, and especially because he finds your voice relaxing (both when you sing and also when you talk) and he's comfortable with you. In addition, every now and then he likes to indulge in moments in which he's teleported into your virtual world by you to relax and find peace for a short time.

As soon as Hange and Erwin discovered your abilities, they immediately began to investigate you: the first studied your powers, the second looked for information about your past and you in general. They consider you very important for the Survey Corp and also very interesting, both from the point of view of your powers and from that of your person: they find very pleasant to chat with you (also because your voice relaxes them).

I really apologize for taking so long to post, but unfortunately I had (and I'll have) three weeks of school tests. In the next days I'll try to post all the requests I've received in the past few weeks (which are quite a few).

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[octuscle]

Hey dude, do you possibly have any suitcases for Johannesburg? I’m there for work cause my employer owns a stake in a gold mine but I can’t find my luggage and I’m meeting with the mine supervisor soon. If you have one it would be appreciated.

In fact, I would have a suitcase. I can make it available to you with pleasure. At first sight it looks very suitable. Suits, shirts… Just what you need. Okay, already at first sight the suits are a bit too fashionable for you… You prefer rather classic dark blue. But what should you do? You need something to wear. But as you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror in the hotel room, you wonder if you shouldn't go naked. The suit is three sizes too big for you. And still too tight at the hips. Who should wear something like that? You have no time to think or change anything. You grab your laptop bag and head out.

In the elevator you have to loosen your tie knot a bit. It was probably tied too tightly. You look really silly. But at least you seem to have gotten a little color in the few hours you've been here. But maybe it's the tinted mirror in the elevator.

On your way through the hotel lobby to the exit, you feel the pants adjusting to your body. Or vice versa. Very strange… In any case, the pants are no longer tight on your stomach. And the legs are no longer too long. As you step out of the cool lobby onto the street, the warmth hits you like a blow. You wipe your forehead with your hand. And over your head. There is no hair! Your head is bald. But you seem to have grown a beard. The doorman calls a cab. You get in and tell the driver your destination. You are a bit frightened by your voice. A huge bass fills the interior of the cab. The driver turns to you and says that he would normally only drive fucking white people to this address. It would be nice to be able to drive a tie-wearing bruh.

You have no idea what the brother is talking about. You look again at the agenda of the appointment on your cell phone. And search LinkedIn for the supervisor's profile. A white guy with a Dutch-sounding name. Sure, like all the managers here. The driver keeps pulling you out of your thoughts and asking you questions about soccer and rugby. At first you are annoyed, because you actually wanted to prepare for the meeting again. But after a few minutes you are in a passionate discussion. Rugby is more your sport than soccer. The driver says that he is not surprised. You look like a professional rugby player yourself. You laugh boisterously. And you flex your biceps. But not too hard, so as not to burst your sleeves. And as a farewell, you give a generous tip.

The technology at your Johannesburg branch works perfectly. You get into the building with your door card without any problems. The iris scan in the elevator recognizes you immediately and automatically takes you to the right floor. There, a pretty hot fellow is waiting for you and asks you to follow him into the meeting room. Cute little white ass… You wonder if it would hold out to be fucked by you. In the conference room he asks you if he could bring you a coffee. Yes please, you answer. Black. Like you. He grins. And licks his lips. You slide him your business card. He should get in touch.

There's nothing better than appointments where your conversation partner feels superior until he sees you. You are a colossus. With excellent taste and polished manners. And a razor-sharp mind. It only takes you a few minutes to tear the supervisor's report apart. You're already looking forward to the audit. The main thing is that you get that cute ass as an assistant.

Perfectly fitting pic found at @seasoned-men-of-color

[slackville]

Sandy Koufax had trouble getting the great Roberto Clemente out.

Someone once asked Sandy how to get Clemente out and he quipped: “I have no idea; roll the ball to the plate?”

But even great hitters struggled against the man known as The Left Hand of God.

What made Sandy Koufax so hard to hit?

Pete Rose answered this question during an interview in which he graphically described Koufax’s curve ball and how precipitously it dropped. Rose found a melon in a basket of fruit and threw it straight down on the floor, hard. “How the hell you gonna hit that curve ball?” Rose asked the interviewer.

And it wasn’t just Rose.

"Hitting against him is like eating soup with a fork," Pittsburgh Pirates slugger Willie Stargell said.

"It drops like a chair whose legs collapse," Koufax’s catcher John Roseboro said.

"Sandy would strike me out two or three times a game. And I knew every pitch he was going to throw: fastball, breaking ball or whatever. Actually, he would let you look at it. And you still couldn't hit it!" — Willie Mays on ESPN Classic's SportsCentury series

When Yogi Berra watched Koufax pitch during the 1963 World Series after having gone 25–5 in the regular season, Berra said, "I can see how he won 25 games. What I don't understand is how he lost five." Fortunately, Dodgers shortstop Maury Wills solved the mystery when he responded, “He didn't lose 5 games, we did.”

“He was truly magnificent.” — Hammerin’ Hank Aaron

In an interview, Bud Selig said the only pitcher he ever heard Hank Aaron complain about verbally was Sandy Koufax. After Koufax had out-dueled the great Warren Spahn, beating the Braves 2–1, on the departing plane trip an unhappy Aaron told Selig, “Boy, I’m glad I don’t have to face him again!” And Aaron was one of the few batters to have any success against Koufax. When asked in interviews to name the most dominant pitchers he faced, Aaron would immediately name Bob Gibson and Koufax, followed by Don Drysdale and Tom Seaver. Amusingly, Aaron said, “If you didn’t hit Drsydale, he was going to hit you!” The great home run hitter and baseball ambassador had a great sense of humor as well.

Superior hitters like Mays, Aaron, Rose, Stargell and Berra found Koufax baffling, so just imagine what it must have been like for ordinary hitters to face him.

Paul Reidl confirmed what great hitters have said about Koufax’s curve and its precipitous break: “I watched him pitch several times from behind home plate at old Forbes Field. His curveball, quite literally, fell off a table. Never seen anything like it. Batters would just flail at it.”

Pete Rose said Koufax had a “great fastball” and pointed out that he struck out over 1,000 batters in his (Rose’s) first three seasons in the NL. That’s averaging 333 strikeouts per year, back when it had never been done before. In fact, Koufax had set the NL record with 269 strikeouts in 1961, breaking a 58-year-old record set by the great Christy Mathewson. It’s easy to forget that, before Koufax, no NL pitcher had really challenged 300 strikeouts in a season. But Koufax would go on to destroy his just-set strikeout record with 306 in 1963, when he became the first unanimous winner of the Cy Young Award back when it was for both leagues, then an otherworldly 382 in 1965 when he won his second of three Cy Youngs.

“You pitch outside, you throw inside,” he liked to say" - Jane Leavy, Sandy Koufax biographer

“Show me a guy who can’t pitch inside, and I’ll show you a loser.” - Sandy Koufax

“Pitching is the art of instilling fear.” - Sandy Koufax

Unlike his partner in pitching crimes, Don Drysdale, the great Sandy Koufax didn’t have to go headhunting to instill fear. He did it with a rip-roaring four-seam fastball and a curve that broke down like it had a gravity accelerator. Those were his primary pitches, and Koufax also threw a forkball and change-up to keep batters off balance and confused about what was coming next. As if they weren’t in enough trouble already!

Ironically, Koufax became the strikeout king by abandoning his fastest pitch for a somewhat slower fastball he could control better. Here’s how it happened …

The turning point of Koufax’s career came in 1961 when catcher Norm Sherry told him to slow things down and concentrate on throwing strikes. "Sandy, you could solve your control problem if you'd just try to throw the ball easier," Sherry said. "Just get it over the plate. You've still got enough swift on it to get the hitters out." Koufax took the advice and the rest is baseball history. But the mind boggles at what he might have done with better control of his fastest fast ball.

Rose told the interviewer that he hit .175 against Koufax, and could only hope to hit his weight (202 pounds) but couldn’t even do that. This is the all-time hit king, who hit .307 against Bob Gibson, .340 against Juan Marichal, .531 against Warren Spahn, and “wore out” Don Sutton, Bob Welch and other top pitchers of his era. But the best Rose could hope for was to hit his weight against Koufax, and he couldn’t even manage that.

I became a good pitcher when I stopped trying to make them miss the ball and started trying to make them hit it.

#MLB #Baseball