#stop lite de lite

[l1zzygr4ntforever]

it's like a hollywood movie, black and white, we're sparklin' truly

♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡°♡

[differenteagletragedy]

Did I write a smutty little Derek story based entirely on this moment in Step 3 after you flirt with him and tell him he's probably super toned?

Yes, I did, and I'm not sorry about it.

This is smut-lite, I'd say, a little racier than the similar-ish Baxter fic I wrote but nothing super crazy. It also may be OOC for Derek but give the man something, OK.

If someone had asked you when you were 13 who you saw yourself with in the future, without a doubt you would have answered "Derek Suarez." He was the boy you were going to marry. There was no doubt in your mind.

Back then, you liked him so much it hurt. Sometimes he'd say and do things that made you think he might feel the same way, but he never said anything. Well, he did ask you to marry him, but only if you were both single in 10 years. And when you tried to point out that if you liked each other, maybe you could just start dating now, he shut it down so fast that you were forced to accept that your crush must have been one-sided.

That was five years ago. A lot had changed since then -- you were still friends with Derek and you definitely still had a soft spot for him, but it had been a long time since you'd realized he didn't return your affections. You'd long since stopped hoping for anything to happen with him.

But during a call towards the end of summer, just before he was leaving for college, he made a remark. Just one little comment, nothing even particularly notable, at least not to the casual observer.

After that, it was on.

During your chat, you'd exchanged updates on how your summers had been going, and you made some offhanded comment about how much more toned he must be after all the training you knew he'd been doing to get ready for college. It was flirty, sure, but nothing crazy.

His response was what had surprised you. He had flirted back.

You could still hear it. His voice had gone low and quiet as he confirmed that he was even more toned that he was the last time you'd seen him, and then, with a smirk instead of his trademark wide smile, he'd said "I hope you can see it in person sometime."

It wasn't likely -- whether it was because of his busy schedule or just by his own design, he was rarely free for a visit. But because he was leaving so soon, Cove had begged and pleaded with him to come to Sunset Bird for one last beach day before adulthood officially began, and he'd agreed.

That's how you found yourself sitting on the shore between your two best friends, holding a fruit tray on your lap as they steadily demolished it.

"What are we going to do next?" Derek asked, grabbing another piece of pineapple. "We already hit up the playground and the grocery store, now we're eating fruit on the beach."

It was a Nostalgia Day -- the three of you were doing things you'd done during that first summer together.

"I don't think we have time to go to the mall," Cove said. "I'll have to be at work before we would get back."

"I think that knocks the pool at Derek's apartment building out too," you said.

"We did pick up the lemons and water balloons," Derek offered. "We'll definitely have time for that."

You and Cove nodded in agreement. You spent the next half hour or so picking at the fruit tray, talking about what was ahead for each of you, then decided it was time for the next activity.

The lemonade was made in Cove's kitchen just as it had been five years before -- except with no knife wounds. It tasted as sweet as it did then, and when you were done with your glasses Cove went back into the house and came out with an empty laundry basket.

"Let's load it up," he said, his tone turning serious.

You and Derek worked together filling the water balloons, and Cove placed them safely in the basket. When you'd made enough to fill it, you carried it out to the street. The three of you stood around it, looking at each other.

Just as you were about to suggest some terms for the battle, Cove struck. He quickly stuck his hand into the basket, pulled out a balloon and hurled it at Derek.

When you were 13, Cove's strategy was to stay by the ammunition, not caring if he got hit so long as he had easy access to hit others, and it hadn't changed. You and Derek grabbed your own balloons as you could, darting away from Cove, but in the end, there was a clear winner, and the sopping wet clothes you and Derek wore were proof.

"No mercy, huh, Cove?" Derek asked. Nonchalantly, he pulled his shirt over his head and wrung it out on the street.

You tried not to stare, but you didn't exactly succeed. Feeling your eyes on him, he turned to you, starting to say something, but he stopped. Your own shirt was soaked and clung to your chest -- it was his turn to stare. He let himself look for just a second before he turned away.

He and Cove started picking up the little broken pieces of the balloons that littered the street, and you joined them. By the time everything was said and done, Cove announced that it was time for him to get ready for work. He gave Derek a hug -- his friend would be leaving soon, and he knew this was goodbye for a while.

Cove retreated inside his house, and Derek looked to you, smiling.

"We can keep hanging out if you want," you told him. "I don't have anything to do."

"Me neither," he replied. "Or at least nothing I would like to do more."

You'd had enough outdoor fun for the day, so you decided to hang out in your room, another familiar activity from back when you were younger. This time, you were in a different room, having taken over Liz's bigger one after she left for school herself, and Derek looked around as you went to your closet to pull out a new shirt.

"Don't turn around," you told him, seeing his back was to you as he looked at the photos on your wall. He gave you a thumbs up, and you quickly switched your wet shirt for a dry one.

When you were done, you went to stand beside him and looked at him, then to your wall. His eyes, you could tell, were on one specific picture: one your moms had took of the two of you at the summer soiree.

"We were so little," you told him, trying to focus on the photo and not the warmth that was radiating off his body, so close to yours. He still hadn't put his shirt back on, and you were trying not to think about that either.

"I know," he said. "It was the perfect night. I thought my little 13-year-old heart would explode."

"What do you mean?"

"It was life or death, remember?" he asked. You did -- he had said that that night.

"My very first date, a fancy party with you," he said wistfully. "I wish I could go back and tell myself how good I had it then."

You studied his face then, determined to figure out what he was getting at. He had a similar kind of tone that he'd had during that flirty conversation on the phone the week before, but there was something else there too. Something deeper.

He turned to face you then, moving his body to face you as well. You mirrored him, and you stood close together, neither of you saying anything.

"I really did, you know?" Derek said finally. "Have it good, I mean. I got to spend so much time with you."

"Growing up is hard," you shrugged, trying to keep your cool. "Things get busy."

"I shouldn't have let it get so busy that I stopped being so close to you."

Taking a steadying breath, you said, "We're close now."

He looked at you for a bit, and you could practically see a war going on in his mind. You imagined him imagining what you meant, what he thought was right, what you could do together here in your room while you were home alone. What he needed and what he thought he deserved.

It was tough to see him battling with himself. He'd been doing it for years, and you wanted to help him stop, if only for a little bit.

You raised a hand that you hoped didn't look as shaky as it felt and placed it on his shoulder. His muscles tensed under your touch. He looked down at your hand there, then to your face. You weren't sure how to tell him that it was ok, that he could be with you if he wanted, so you tried to convey the message with your eyes.

His flirty tone that had been on your mind all week couldn't have possibly been from this man that stood in front of you. Over the phone he's been assertive, forward, but now that you were actually in front of each other he couldn't make a move.

"Derek?" you prompted, stroking a thumb over his shoulder.

He inhaled deeply, then stiffly brought his hands up to your waist. He gripped you, testing the waters a bit, and you stepped closer to him and placed your other hand on the back of his neck.

"We are," he said. "Close now."

With a painful slowness, he brought his mouth closer to yours. He paused then, bringing his eyes from your lips to see if you were all right. You nodded, and he leaned the rest of the way in.

His kiss was, as you'd imagined, soft and gentle, like he was. It was careful and unassuming, and so sweet. You enjoyed it for a moment, taking in the fact that you were actually, finally kissing him. You pressed it into your memory.

But then you wanted more.

You pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss, and as timid as he was about this, he readily responded. His hands dipped a little lower, the tips of his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before he moved them back up. With a little grunt of protest against his lips, you grabbed his hands and placed them where they'd wanted to go.

He laughed, and while normally you would delight in the sound, it wasn't what you were going for now, so you caught his lips in another kiss.

Slowly, he loosed up a little. He had more fun with kissing you, exploring your mouth for the first time. His hands freely roamed along your hips, down to your thighs and around to your back. A moan slipped from your mouth to his, and he pulled back.

"Is this ok?" he asked.

"Yeah. Is it ok with you?"

He smiled, placing another kiss on your forehead, and said, "I'm managing."

At some point, he slid his hands under the the bottom hem of your shirt, caressing the bare skin there. Figuring that it wasn't fair that he was the only one without a shirt, you hastily threw yours over your head and off to the side. It was his turn to moan.

Figuring that being the initiator here had played in your favor so far, you eventually started leading him over to your bed. You sat first, pulling him down with you, then you laid down on your back, hoping he'd fall into place.

With an ease that made you proud, he gently grabbed one of your knees and pulled it to the side so he could fit between your legs. He lowered himself down over you, letting your bodies touch while he still held his weight up himself. Instead of going back to your mouth, he trailed kisses all along your neck, across your collarbone and slowly -- always slowly, giving you plenty of room to pull back if you wanted -- down your chest.

You thought about how much you'd thought about having him here, exactly like this. It was better than you'd imagined, but of course it was -- actually being able to feel his warmth, see the sparkle in his pretty green eyes whenever he took a second to look up at you wasn't something you could duplicate in your dreams.

Then an unwelcome thought came -- he'd be leaving soon. In a matter of days, he'd be gone and who knows exactly when he'd come back, or when you'd get a chance to be like this again? Or if you ever would get the chance?

The thought made you a bit desperate, and you raised your hips to connect with his. His hands, which had been holding onto your hips as he kissed his way down your stomach, clenched. His breath was shallow against your skin.

"You would tell me if you wanted to stop, right?" he asked, almost bashfully. You assured him that you would, of course you would, and added, a bit bashful yourself, that you were a long ways from wanting to stop.

He slid his fingers just under the waistband of your shorts and looked up at you, wanting to be certain before he proceeded. Once again, you nodded, and he stripped you down to your underwear.

"I never thought this would happen," he murmured, coming back up to your lips. Between kisses, he said, "I wanted this for so long. Is that weird to say?"

"No," you said, "I have too. So if it's weird then at least we're both weird."

"I can live with that."

His hand started roaming again, but this time he found his way into your underwear and got to work.

As your sighs and groans grew louder and more frequent, so did his, although you weren't touching him, not yet. He kept kissing your cheek, your jawline, your temple -- anywhere he could get as he focused on moving his hand in the ways that seemed to please you most. You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, feeling your release coming, and before he could misinterpret it you told him, "Please don't stop."

The gentleman that he was, he obliged.

When you were done -- when he was sure you were done -- he dragged his hand back up your body, confident enough now to touch you wherever he wanted. But, you'd decided, it was his turn. You nudged his shoulder, guiding him to lie down, then sat up and started pulling on his gym shorts. You took a page out of his book, going slow enough so he'd have time to tell you if he wanted you to stop.

Instead, he said, "You don't have to."

"I want to," you told him. "Is that ok?"

He thought about it, then nodded, shy again. But when you slid down his shorts, his underwear with them, and took him in your hand, the shyness was gone.

You knew Derek, and you know that he very rarely indulged himself. He always took care of everyone else and got uneasy when anyone tried to do the same for him. So you took your time.

Thankfully, he seemed to enjoy himself immensely. As you moved your hand, you started talking to him a low voice not unlike the one he'd used in that phone call that started all of this. You told him how good he was, how beautiful, as soon as a compliment popped in your head you showered it down on him, and it was impossible to come up short with words of praise when it came to him. His cheeks became as flushed as his chest, he was grunting and gasping and jerking, but when you moved to put your mouth over him, he put a firm hand on your shoulder.

"No," he said. "Don't, I didn't do that for you."

"It's not a contest," you told him with a laugh.

"Maybe not. But if it is, I want to win."

You hummed in thought, rubbing your free hand down his thigh, and after he was done with that particular moan, you said, "What if this is just the second quarter? Not even to halftime yet, plenty of chances to take the lead."

He grinned. "I can work with that, I think."

After he had finished ... well, it didn't seem like he was finished. With a passion he didn't have before, he pushed you back down to the bed and kissed you hard. His hand found its way back to your underwear, and this time you quickly took them off before letting him wrap you in his arms and pull you tight against him.

He was making the sweetest sounds, and you were breathless as he put his hand between your legs again. This time he was working quicker -- he was a fast learner. You felt him against your thigh, getting hard again already, and you found yourself trying to remember where you'd put those condoms your moms had given you, "just in case."

Before you could place them, there was a flurry of noise downstairs. Your family was home, and they weren't being quiet about it.

Derek froze and looked at you, starting to panic. Understanding that things couldn't go as far as you wanted them to put not willing to be done just yet, you started rocking your hips against his hand. He buried his face in the crook of your neck to hide the noise that move had brought out of him.

Once again, he brought you to climax, and it was your turn to muffle your cries again him. When your breathing slowed, he gave you a slow, easy kiss, then said, "We better get dressed."

You moaned, but it wasn't as fun as when you'd done it earlier.

"Come on," he said, giving you another peck before hopping out of your bed. "I'm not about to be caught in your room naked."

You watched as he quickly got dressed, and you felt his eyes on you as you did the same. Before, he wouldn't have dared to check you out like this. Now he was drinking it in shamelessly.

When you were both presentable, you saw his smile fade a bit. You raised your eyebrows, and he said, "I wish this wasn't over. I wish we had more time."

You could tell he wasn't just talking about this afternoon.

"Well, just remember what I said," you told him, stepping closer and gripping his arms for the pep talk. "This is halftime. The game's not over yet."

He smirked at your attempt at a sports metaphor, then surprised you by moving a hand down to squeeze your ass.

"Oh, it's not over by a long shot."

[wintergrofyuri]

ok hi im back again. can we talk about the hero harem. i wanna talk about the hero harem.

so. what do i mean by this. well, think of a dating sim. now stop thinking about a dating sim bc its not anything like the hero harem. the hero harem is an all you can eat buffet. a basket of bread at a restaurant. chips and dip.

the hero harem is a game of hungry hungry hippos.

see, we can all agree that hero is like. the de facto leader. he's kind and empathetic. a nice guy. easy to get along with. but most importantly: he's the voice you start with. the one you always have. the closest to the long quiet. the closest to the shifting mound as well. this means something probably. but most importantly, it means something to the other voices. they're disjointed and argumentative and the only thing keeping them together is sharing a body.

now, what happens when you give them their own bodies? chaos. absolute fucking chaos. probably some attempted murder as well. but hero wldnt let that happen. he's the glue holding them together. their rock.

what im getting at is, they're all codependant as fuck. clinginess varies but its present in all of them. always an arm around his shoulders or hand on his arm or. just hands everywhere. they're all very touchy in my mind. physical sensation is very novel to them and they want to get everything out of it they can. preferably with their hero.

you may be wondering. do they fight? do they tug at him like a barbie doll? growl and tug like dogs with a rope? maybe a little. in subtle ways. but its more like a class pet type situationship. he is theirs collectively. they pass him around like a bottle of bud lite is what im saying. like "its been one of those days. pass the hero" ykno. they all have their grubby little claws on him. and if we're adding the vessels? oh my god its like a fucking joint at a party. they are all in that shit. like cheeto dust on ur fingers. but like. its feather dust.

anyways, hero is a little silly guy who loves affection he's soaking this shit up dont worry about him. they feed him, they walk him. he gets plenty of sunlight ykno. its fine. hes fine.

[whitewaterpaper]

Lite gott och blandat denna månad. Mest blandat, men en del gott värt att se om.

Batman & Robin (1997) [👍🔁] Har alltid varit förtjust i den här filmen, fånig och underhållande och redigt duktiga skådespelare rakt igenom.

Behind the Mask of Zorro / El Zorro cabalga otra vez (1964) [🆓] Zorro-film som bjuder på väldigt lite nytt, väldigt röriga actionscener och där dubben faktiskt är bättre än filmen.

DOA: Dead or Alive (2006) [👍🔁] Faller nog in i samma kategori favoritfilmer som Batman & Robin: småfåniga plotter med duktiga skådespelare. Röjjigt underhållande rakt igenom.

En Djävul till Granne / The 'Burbs (1989) [__] Jisses. Blir aldrig bra. Knäppa karaktärer som tar knäppa beslut.

Fasornas slott / Black Castle, the (1952) [🆓] Bra story med vibbar av Mänskligt villebråd, Romeo och Julia och en god portion maktfullkomliga sadister som styr en avkrok med järnhand. Inte genial, men sevärd.

Gorilla lös! / Gorilla at Large (1954) [🆓] Rätt harmlöst karaktärsdrivet drama som utspelar sig på ett nöjesfält kallat ”Ondskans Trädgård” där en man hittas död inne i en gorillabur. Inte genial, men sevärd.

Hannibal: Erövraren / Annibale (1959) [🆓] Allt för tråkig för sitt eget bästa.

Hart to Hart: Secrets of the Hart (1995) [👍🆓] Helt klart kul att återse gamla "Par i Hjärter", får mig att sukta efter mer.

Kingdom of the Dinosaurs (2022) [👎🆓] Skådespelarna känns kompetenta, men regin att få liv i dialogen och piska i gång nerven för storyn finns inte där. Osebart sömnpiller.

Mark of Zorro, the (1974) [👍🆓] Klart sevärd Zorrofilm som både bjuder på de klassiska momenten och en egen spinn på dem.

Mord och inga visor. Den Keltiska Gåtan / Murder, She Wrote: The Celtic Riddle (2003) [👍🔁] Kunde inte låta bli att tänka på Arvspelen medan jag såg den -- klart bra och en av de bästa av filmerna som avslutade serien.

Mord, lilla vän (1955) [👎🆓] Oj vad bra den här hade varit med en mer sympatisk karaktär som huvudroll. Nu blir fick den bara en irriterat halsstarrig journalist som kastar anklagelser runt sig.

Next Stop Murder (2010) [🆓] Modern take på Strangers on a Train, här med en egen spinn. Det funkar men kan kanske inte kallas genialt.

Oh, vilket party! / Party, the (1968) [👎] Vilken överskattad film. Långt ifrån rolig. Var det lämpligt ens 1968 med en sminkad ENGELSMAN som spelade fumlig indier?

Oz the Great and Powerful (2013) [🔁] Bättre än jag mindes den. Ser fram emot kommande Wicked.

Zorro Kommer Tillbaka / Bold Caballero, the (1936) [🆓] Känd för tre saker: första Zorro filmen i färg, första Zorro-filmen med tal och den enda Zorro-filmen som (likt den litterära förlagan) visar Zorro i helmask. Bra story, och kändes på det hela taget påkostad.

Jag ljög. Bara blandat! den här månaden är kanske Zorro-filmerna det vettiga man kan plocka upp. Om man inte känner för att se om 90-tals klassiker då (och då menar jag B&R inte EDtG).

[remembertheplunge]

Flight impressions

11/16/1987. 4:04pm

We lifted off about 4 minutes ago. We soar above LA smog on flight 1895 bound from San Diego to Fresno with a stop in LA. We circle out over the Pacific. Tiny planes dart by far below. The earth hangs beneath all festooned in her riches of black, green and silver fox grey blue, like patterns in material art. It’s like watching an unreal movie. We bank. The mountains hang in their mist as if in magic—a blue sky trim harkens and harbors a peace lite halo. The feeling is above it all. 

4:11pm.  The land below coddles a lake, holds it in grip like a child in a mother’s lap.

4:14pm. I’ll try out the field glasses. Flight stewardess just passed by. Don’t think I want anything. Peanuts ok.

4:14:39.  We pass over the Tehachapi’s into the great Central Valley. The mountains caress down into the valley in a peaceful, almost seductivly sensual, sexual way. They gently feel their way neath velvet bed spread of valley’s sleep. A bright sun enters from left. A beautiful blue luster shimmers beyond. 

About 4 plane cashes in the last 24 hours. I imagine the thought flits through all 60 or so minds on board. I feel safe aloft.

4:18pm I’ll try out the field glasses. Nope, don’t seem to work too well up here.

4:22pm. A bit of turbulence!!

4:28pm. A bell chimes. We begin our diescent. I perceive a drag of the engines. Broad solid rock wall of the Sierra Nevadas to the East. White cotton clouds, blue grey mist of day adds majesty. The sun peaking in on the west.

The clouds and mist mimic the sea in their attachment to the land—they hug up and cuddle and out to sea, they swell and crest in repetition.

4:36pm. The cabin grows much darker. Fasten seat belt. We begin descent into Fresno. Here, below, we find a peace not present over LA or San Diego. The cities sit like computer chips midst a green checker board.

We are space people. We truly live on a revolving jewel. Emerald of the sky. The mountains vanish to mist.. Feeling of falling.We drop from higher realms of reality to a lower physical place. We are blinded now of strength of rock mother, but, she is there all the same. Now, the physical world reaches up to touch as time slows, speed slows,  weight and velocity alter. Weighting down, down, down, down—flaps and wheels scream.

We give up freedom of the sky for security of the earth. But, they are at different speeds and places. We have seen. We shall not un see.

Pale grey, brown. Closer, closer, closer. Cars, highway, runway and—we land! 4:42:55pm 

End of entry

Note: 3/24/2024

I had been in SanDiego for a criminal law class and to visit with my sister Zoe who lived there at that time.

I googled 4 plane crashes November 1987. The one that came up was flight 1713 that crashed on take off from Denver, Colorado’s Stapleton Airport on November 15,1987.. The pilots failed to properly de ice the wings and took off at too steep a pitch. Some on board died. The cause of the crash led to changes in aviation safety rules.

[eternal--returned]

Lana del Rey ֍ Stoplight De-lite (2009)

I had a man, he was sweet as pie I met him as I walked right by him He said, "Baby, you so fine that when you walk Even the stoplights stop to talk about you I saw you and I had to make you mine"

Fly body, dope in the face

The way you talk, well, you make me smile And I'm lookin' down 'cause I'm kinda shy You know you're so fine that when you talk Even the roses get up to walk to you You're crazy but I knew that at the time I just could not resist your golden grill And your stupid pick-up line

[nooniesnecklace]

A Twinkle In your eye

Spooky fanfic

—

彡 ᴇᴅɪᴛᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

Hey guys I wanna put out there that finding omb gifs are so hard on here🥲,BUT that won’t stop me from making content for you guys. I’m actually really happy that the fandom is small, on here so that gives me a chance to introduce my work to you all and grow the fandom! Also I’m sorry for all of the misspelled words and missmatched format🤥… but alas I did my best and hopefully it’s enough to please you! Anyways, enough of the chit chat and let’s get into the story

彡ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ(ꜱ)

-Oscar Dias x reader

¡! ❞ ᴛᴀɢꜱ

-fluff☁️

彡ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ

-627 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

.

It was a dark night in Free-ridge, you had just came from a party that had ended with a shoot out of two opposing gangs. But that didn’t stop your night from being fun you and your friends decided to roam the streets looking for trouble or something the least bit interesting. Before you left the party you and your friend had lil bits to drink so you guys were a little shot minded. I didn’t take long for you two to roam around and stumble into a yard full of bald men. Strangely there was a couch outside but not strange enough, you’ve seen worse

“Hey who the hell are you..” a deep scruffy voice said to you. This voice belonged to the most handsome man you’ve ever seen

“I’m your worst nightmare.” You said in a low deep seductive tone you bit your bold, red lips and smirked at the man. He looked at you with a stern gaze, his cold gaze made a chill go through your whole entire body. You two were inches away from each other. You could smell the cigarette ash and lite bud beer sent that stained his clothes. And 9 times out of ten he could smell the light sent of alcohol that lingered your mouth. After a long period of silence he grinned and laughed in your face. His smug laugh filled you with instant rage, you hated being a laughing stock, so in a fit of rage you slapped in on his cheek… the red mark of your hand print still lingering on his bearded face. He immediately started laughing you started to regret your decision immediately

Your friend sensed the danger that you were in so she grabbed your wrist and then you two booked it immediately! While running you to were laughing your asses off until you two arrived to your house. The two of you plopped down on your bed and you removed your your shoes. You guys were still out of breath from running all the way from that strange but handsome man’s house to your house. Your so tired that you begin to dose off..

It’s the next morning, and your friend woke you up with the smell of her signature cinnamon pancakes you hopped up out of bed and walked to the kitchen.

“Good morning sleeping beauty, did your Prince Charming come and kiss you up?” She said teasingly. You mock her while she puts the pancakes on your plate you pick up the fork and knife that was already laid out for you.

“Sooo, are we gonna talk about last night” your friend said

“UGH, I rather not” you said, telling ashamed for all of your previous actions I mean who even was that guy you thought,

“Come on Y/N you slapped the fu*k outta that guy! And you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“NO!” You said as you stuffed your mouth with your friends fluffy, delicious pancakes. You wanted to forget that night forever and you prayed that you never, ever met that guy again because if you did you felt as if something bad might happen. Later that evening you felt like being productive, so you went on a walk to get some groceries. It was all move sailing until you looked into an ally way and saw a bald man beating another man. He seemed familiar, he was bald with tattoos and was wearing a wife beater. You started to ponder on who it could be then, you remembered from the night before. You tried to leave before he noticed you but he turned around walked up to you and pulled you into the ally way, then he pinned you to the wall. “Tell anyone about this and your de*d” you opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you “ wait….don’t I know you from somewhere” sh*t sh*t sh*t you thought, this was for sure then end until he spoke again “Your the crazy hyna that slapped the fu*k out of spooky” he chuckled “he’s been looking for you” the bald man said with a grin on your face. Then in the blink of an eye, he shoved you into the back seat of his red vintage convertible you try to put up a fight but it was no use for his big burly arms and his overwhelming strength. He started to pull out of the ally way and drive along the dangerous streets of free ridge until you guys stopped in the driveway of the house that was familiar. It was the house from last light… “Alright vamos”

[transingthoseformers]

G1 SG au: In the "War Dawn" equivalent (perhaps titled "Rise Up!"), the Stunticons are on the Earth team and Megatron (and Starscream, Kickback, Thunderrcarcker, Skywarp, etc) are still on Cybertron, and the Stunticons have never met them.

Maybe the Stunticons-in-the-past don't recognize Megatron (plausible to not know what he looks like?), like the Aerialbots-in-the-past didn't recognize Orion and Ariel? I don't want to copy baseline Optimus'/Elita's backstory though.

The name, though. Maybe "Megatron" is a nom de guerre and he originally had a different name, and tells the Stunticons the latter? Or "Megatron" is his real name and what he tells the Stunticons is the nom de guerre? The latter makes more sense, though it'd raise the question why and when did they stop using nom de guerres.

What would his nom de guerre even be, has G1/G1-lite Megatron ever used other names? The only particular idea i have is "Dee", in a meta reference to TFP Megatron's original name (D-16). At least i think "Dee" sounds like a real name by G1 side character standards?

Tbh Dee as a reference to D-16 is probably your best bet!

[mediocre-eternity]

Does Daniel take you hunting to clubs like he did in Rio? Do you enjoy dancing and feeding with him?

I’m not actually sure if Daniel did, in fact, dance in Rio. I think you’re referring to passages about Daniel Molloy from the book Prince Lestat.

Ah, Anonymous Mortal, I don’t really know why Lestat writes the things that he writes. His recent books are mostly pure fiction, but he likes to occasionally announce to us he’s taking stories from our minds. Perhaps Marius did take Daniel to all sorts of countries, including Rio de Janiero and maybe Daniel was fine to be on his own in crowds of mortals on that particular night. But I will tell you, when he came to me in New York City he wasn’t capable of even small gatherings without triggering blind hunger. I once took him to an art museum that had a fairly claustrophobic display and I had to drag him out of the room like a misbehaving dog, where afterwords he was crying into my chest about “not being able to do it.” Again, it mystifies me what Lestat’s recent books have been about but he’s also told me his writing phase is over for good. We shall see.

But— in much more recent years, large crowds of mortals aren’t much of a challenge anymore; including wandering off. I have taken him to places where mortals dance and we’ve had a wonderful time. Much like before, we enjoy people watching and sniffing out the odd and eccentric mortals. I really believe Daniel enjoys this even more now that he’s within The Blood. I was so fearful that that part of his personality, his love for “weirdos”, would be destroyed, but I am so overjoyed that we still share this between us.

Jesse and Benji tend to put him more at ease than I do (I think he’s more pressured to “be good” when I’m around, although I try not to judge him for it) and they’ve taken him out without me, too. Even more recently, he has begun to go completely out on his own.

I’ll take a picture later, but he managed to make it to Manhattan to buy me some Diptyque parfum for Valentine’s Day, completely un-chaperoned (he hates when I use the word chaperone but, my dearest one, my most beloved, if you read this entry understand that having other vampires and myself assist you has helped you and I enormously).

Feeding is an entirely separate activity. I would never feed without Daniel, at least not right now. Why pass on something so intense and so intimate? It’s too much like sex for me. More so. I am never more attracted to Daniel than when I witness him hunting, preying on and killing someone he chose for himself. He’s a still a mess at the Little Drink and sometimes needs a great deal of strength to stop drinking altogether. Ah, but reader, you will die never knowing what it’s like to watch someone you have so much love for pull from the neck of a human struggling against them.

I think it’s time I teach him some lite evisceration so that he can feast from the heart.

Though Daniel— do not read this and get excited. It will have to be a… whole thing. We can plan it, my love.

[stellato-17]

(Lat. Spanish) Bienvenid@s a mi blog! :D

❄ Pronombre/s: Ella (en inglés: She/Her)

🧭 Cumpleaños: 14/Julio

❄ Mis colores favoritos: Azul marino, blanco y negro

🧭 Nacionalidad: Mexicana 🇲🇽

❄ Idiomas: Español Latino... y algo de Inglés (por qué no? XD)

🧭 Hobbies:

- Escuchar música (Retro, Pop, Jazz, Swing, Rock, también Rock en Español, Lo-Fi, Soundtrack de videojuegos).

- Dibujar / Hacer Redraws (En digital o tradicional)

- Jugar videojuegos en mi Nintendo Switch Lite, en mi laptop o rara vez con mi Nintendo Advance SP.

- Pasear en cualquier ciudad, municipio... o a la playa.

- Tomar fotos panorámicas a diferente hora.

- Hacer manualidades

✅ Cosas que SOLAMENTE SÍ hago/haría:

- Art Trades

- Arte SFW (Tradicional o Digital)

- Crossovers

- Referencias

- Redraws

- Memes (especialmente de otras páginas)

- Videos / Reels (de lo que se me ocurran)

- Novedades random

- Comparto también cosas #SemiOffTopic y #OffTopic

- Arte original

Bueno, EN CORTO, todo lo que pongo, es lo que sí hago y me gusta, al igual con los fandoms que estoy actualmente.

🍀🌸He aquí mis redes sociales / Here are my social media:

🫐 Este / This Tumblr XD

🫐 Twitter (@Stellato1740 / Stellato 17)

🫐 Pinterest (@Stellato_17 / Stellato 17)

🫐 Wattpad (@Stellato-17 / Stellato-17)

🫐 Mi FC de Nintendo Switch solamente puedo pasarles al mensaje privado por si gustan agregarme y/o viceversa 😊 para no confundirnos.

🫐 Mi otra página (La Tripulación de Risky Boots :') hay otros 4 más conmigo, pero dejaron de postear a excepción mía que sigo en pie. Lo hago de vez en cuando).

💥Si quieren mandarme un mensajito para algún Art Trade, o alguna idea para dibujar, o para charlar un buen rato, o si serán nuev@s en alguna red social (de las mencionadas que agregué), no piensen tanto y adelante!!! (menos Pinterest)

Bueno, de momento eso es todo y, para l@s nuev@s seguidor@s, bienvenidos a mi blog!! 😄

(Eng) Welcome to my blog! :D

❄ Pronoun/s: She/Her

🎉Birthday: July 14th

❄ My favorite colors: Navy blue, white and black

🎉Nationality: Mexican 🇲🇽

❄ Languages: Latin Spanish... and some English (why not? XD)

🎉Hobbies:

- Listen to music (Retro, Pop, Jazz, Swing, Rock, also Rock in Spanish, Lo-Fi, Video game soundtrack).

- Draw / Make Redraws (Digital or traditional)

- Play video games on my Nintendo Switch Lite, on my laptop or rarely with my Nintendo Advance SP.

- Walk in any city, municipality... or to the beach.

- Take panoramic photos at different times.

- Crafts

✅ Things that I ONLY DO/would do:

- Art Trades

- SFW Art (Traditional or Digital)

- Crossovers

- References

- Redraws

- Memes (especially from other pages)

- Videos / Reels (whatever I can think of)

- Random news

- I also share #SemiOffTopic and #OffTopic things

- Original art- well, IN A NUTSHELL, everything I post is what I do and I like, just like the fandoms I'm currently in.

⚡ I can only send my Nintendo Switch FC to private message in case you want to add me and/or vice versa 😊 so as not to confuse us.

🎉 My another page (La Tripulación de Risky Boots :') there are 4 others with me, but they stopped posting except for me who's still standing. I do it from time to time.

💥 If you wanna send me a message for some Art Trade, or some idea to draw, or to chat for a good time, or if you are new to any social network (of the ones mentioned that I added), don't think so much and go ahead!!! (minus Pinterest)

Well, that's all for now and, for new followers, welcome to my blog!!! 😄

🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸🍀🌸

[just-someone-online]

I was gonna leave Electrified alone but fuck it, this seemed like fun.

So Electrified's third act was uh... we'll say 'not amazing.' Me personally, I didn't care too much, but I've always been told my tastes are questionable at best. In any case, I wanted to try my hand at rewriting this.

We start at the power plant turned salon. The lights are flickering and the Ghoul Squad are trying their best to keep the normies calm. Suddenly, a hand bursts out of the floor, followed by another, and another. In no time at all, Moanica and her zomboys have everybody surrounded. She looks around at the normies, terrified and screaming because of what's happening. Moanica smirks.

"Are you scared, normies? Well, you should be! Because monsters and zombies are real! And tonight, under the cover of perpetual darkness, me and my zomboys are going out into your world to show you what happens when you force us to hide in the shadows!

"It is time that you normies finally learn your place..."

She reaches towards the nearest human and gives them a slow scratch across the cheek. In seconds a new zombie joins Moanica's zomboys.

"Under me."

The zomboys attack, capturing humans so that Moanica can turn them and repeat the cycle. The Ghoul Squad tries to protect the normies, but Moanica opens trap doors under them all and sends them down to her lair.

Down below, Frankie isn't doing too hot. They're (I'm sorry, I know G1 and G2 use she/her but I'm too used to G3 Frankie) glowing like a radioactive Lite Brite and their eyes are shining like high beams. They try to move, but they can barely lift their arms.

"So...much...electricity..."

Znap flies over to its creator, unsure of how to help, when a bolt of electricity shoots out from one of Frankie's... well, bolts and hits Znap. The little electricity being begins absorbing some of Frankie's excess power. Not enough to overload or hurt itself, but enough so that Frankie can at least move. Maybe Twyla gets hit with a little and gets her Electrified design, idk.

Now that Frankie's a little better, the ghouls explain what happen, and they all set out to Normie Town to stop Moanica.

When they get there, it looks like something out of a zombie movie. Zombies new and old shuffle through the cul-de-sac, looking for humans to bring to their leader. None of the ghouls know what to do, but Frankie has an idea. Or at least a part of one.

The zombies are essentially reanimated corpses, right? And Frankie was brough to life with it, so maybe, just maybe they can restart the zombies hearts with a little power.

(Look, it's a stretch and I doubt G2 would have brought up stopped hearts or reanimation, but it's the best I got)

Lagoona, Ari, and Twyla distract Moanica while Frankie, Cleo, Draculaura, and Clawdeen begin rounding up all of the zombies. Once they're sure everybody is there, Frankie warns there friends to hit the dirt, then unleashes enough of their electricity to hit all of the zombies.

When the sparks die down, the ghouls are pleased to see that the humans are all back to normal. Even the zomboys Moanica already had are back to their old selves. Of course, there's a chance they'll all turn back, but that's a problem for another day.

Moanica, alone and defeated, runs for the hills, promising to come back another day. Frankie takes a deep breath and releases the rest of their electricity. With the power restored and the zombies defeated, the Ghoul Squad heads home before the normies begin looking for someone to blame.

A few days later, the ghouls are cleaning the salon and listening to a normie radio reporting what happened. Everybody is worried that this might mean the end of Monster High, or worse, another Great Fright Flight. Draculaura tries to be optimistic, but even she's worried about the future.

Clawdeen laments the loss of her dream, only for Twyla to come bursting in with a group of humans, one smaller than the crowd seen in the actual movie. They saw the Ghoul Squad fighting to rescue them and figured that maybe not every monster is like Moanica. It'll probably be a long time before the normies are okay around monsters, but this is a good start.

From there, it would probably lead into a third movie, likely taking place after Adventures of the Ghoul Squad, though the only thing I can think of is Ghouls Rule without the normies nearly executing somebody. Maybe there would be a different antagonist? Just to give Moanica a break? idk

[futurewife]

more lana unreleased faves today. this one is one of my all time favourites, it's just so damn cute :) plus "fly body dope in the face"? HELLO!!!!!!!!

[ramonrivera1]

The most powerful handheld Biogas Analyzer on the market. MRU's Optimax can perform simultaneous measurements of up to 7 gas components! Biogas measurement: O2, CH4 and CO2 (infrared for CO2/CH4) Emissions measurement: O2, CO*, NO*, NO2* and CO2. The Optimax can also perform biogas pressure measurement (or stack pressure). It has a standard O2 measurement with long-life cell (approx. 4-5 years estimated life span). It's fitted with a modern, slim line enclosure with secure rear-mounted magnets for drop-resistant operation. All the data is displayed on a super bright, color 4.0” TFT screen with LED backlit.

DUAL Bluetooth for Android and Apple MRU4U APP

Condensate separator with WATER STOP FILTER and Internal flow monitoring and alarm

IRDA interface for high speed infrared thermal printer

Mini‐USB interface for cable data transfer to PC

WLAN Interface

SD card reader incl. activating software

Internal data storage for up to 32000 measurements, with color data records visualization on display

Battery and mains operation - high energy Li‐Ion battery, with 20 hours mains free operation

Wall‐plug, universal grid power supply 90‐240Vac / 50‐60Hz for battery charging over the USB port

Biogas sampling line Ø3x2mm Viton with 5m length and stainless steel instrument gas inlet port

[trekadventureportugal]

13 juli

Upp vid 04. Frukost så dags känns trögt att äta nåt..Nån liten macka gick att peta i sig och sen ta med sig nåt istället.

Var ok o få med sig en liten frukostpåse, så det blev att packa ner lite där.

Säkerhetskontroll var nära Clarion så det tog knappt 5 min att gå dit. Gate C39 var 1 min bort. Ryan hade skickat kvällen innan att det kunde ta upp till 36 min att gå till Gate från incheckningen. Skrämselpropaganda visade det sig. Lite skillnad på 1 min o 36...😉

Boarding var från bakre ingång. Vid bra väder känns det ok.. Säner en varm tanke till de som ska boarda ikväll, när värsta vädret skulle komma. Kan inte vara kul att komma in i planet som en dränkt katt.

Inte åkt Ryan på ett tag, men kroppen minns. Man sitter nästan framåtlutad och sätet går inte att röra en millimeter bakåt, endast mittre armstödet går att ta upp, Hmm. Det är i alla fall några millimeter för knäna kvar att spela på.

Har säte mot mittgång, så kan sträcka ut lite i gången i alla fall.

Tidsåtgång 3tim 50 min.

FRAMME kl 10 Startade resan efter att ha fått vänta på bagaget en stund...

Macka från Clarion gick åt.. sen vidare ut på vägen.

Såg lite oroligt ut med molnen..trodde faktiskt skulle komma en skur. Snurrade lite på gatorna innan pilarna kom fram på stolparna. Hade ju inte appen, som jag senare skulle få tips om, då hade det gått lättare direkt.

när pilarna dök upp, då kändes det bekant..

Internet funkade inte på någon telefon i portugal...Så svårt att sätta bokmärken i maps under gång. Glömde även att sätta igång stegräknaren så fick svårt att hålla koll på antal km som trampades.

Camino Central gick genom små samhällen. Tror inte jag sett så mycket kullersten nånstans förut, kändes som tiden stannat...

Kullersten gör att det blir fullständigt hopplöst med stavar...fastnade hela tiden..Så kass.

Det var först när vi närmade oss Vilharino som det blev lite eucalyptus stigar. DET var så förlösande. Då gick det att sätta i stavarna.

Det klarnade upp utmed vägen, det var tur... Ett antal stop med byte av strumpor och vattenpåfyllning blev då nödvändigt med den blå himmel och värmande solen..

Det var intressant att se hur folk umgicks. Det var många små fik där folk satt o snackade..tja mest män iofs. Som Sverige förr.

En annan intressant sak var också att se hur folk körde bil...som faaan.

O de var nära i de trånga gatorna. Tack vare att det var kullersten överallt så lät det som flygplan när de kom runt hörnen och det var på ett sätt positivt, för då hade man chans att kliva åt sidan..

Det blev en vilostund i en park också...för att vila ryggen lite...

Äntligen framme.

Det var en matfestival i byn, men orkade inte gå dit. I "förra" byn var det något katolskt firande, inget som lockade heller.

Förste peregrinos vi träffande var fransk, en introvert typ och inget utbyte. Sen kom Marco, han var från Tyskland och hade precis samma erfarenheter som jag. Han hade gått från Porto idag också och skulle till Santiago också.. Träffar nog kanske på han igen. Annars har det varit VÄLDIGT få peregrinos, jämfört med franska vägen, där jag träffade på många. Får se hur det blir i morgon.

[joancoyespain]

Day 2: Madrid Bike Tour & the Prado

E bikes carried us through the gorgeous Retiro Park with its fountains, tree lined paths and rose garden....just exquisite! Other highlights included views of the Cibeles Fountain, bustling squares of Puerto del Sol and Plaza Mayor and the neighborhoods of Malasaña and Barrio de las Letras. The Royal Palace of Madrid, the largest royal palace in Western Europe flanked by the Madrid Opera and Madrid Cathedral were tops among the historical buildings on our tour. We even enjoyed delicious hot churros en route...yummm!

The Museum del Prado filled our afternoon with it's collection of European art, dating from the 12th century to the early 20th century. Founded in 1819, the Prado houses the single best collection of Spanish art and numerous works by Francisco Goya. One of our favorites was Goya's "La Maja Desnuda".

The Grand Via was on our way home and stop by Zara and Mango were very productive : ). A bit of Tempranillo and some Spanish cheese for a lite bite then to bed early.

[dragoneyes618]

When I was around sixteen, I spent two successive summers in a city that I fell in love with at first sight, Paris. My hope was to improve my French, but I spent too much time away from my books and lessons gazing enchantedly at the beauty of France’s capital. When my wife and I married some twenty years ago, I was particularly delighted to discover I now had additional family and relations in the city. This was especially so as they lived on the west bank of the Seine in the exclusive 16th Arrondissment.

I have kept an eye on the city of my youthful infatuation ever since, watching the occasional changes and upheavals that are synonymous with France.

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On the night of April 19, 2019, I sat at my computer watching in disbelief as one of the city’s (and the world’s) greatest landmarks burst into flames, the 12th century cathedral the French call, Notre Dame De Paris. It was for the French and particularly the Parisians, what 9/11 was to the U.S. and New Yorkers. The comparison was additionally secured when the spire of the cathedral, like the Twin Towers, collapsed at 19:50 p.m. and crashed to the ground.

By the next day, the Paris prosecutor had declared that it was not a deliberate act.

That was something that he could not possibly have known; no one could. Making the risible declaration with such haste, signaled to everyone in France what many already believed. A cover up at the highest levels of the French government had begun immediately and the fire had been an extremist Muslim attack.

If that fact were to be established and revealed it would not have been a surprise. There had and have been scores of church burnings across France by Muslims before and after Notre Dame De Paris.

France officially has a huge Muslim population (10%) and unofficially, a huger one.

The percentage of those holding extremist Islamist and Islamo-Nazi views is unknown (and only a bigot assumes that all Muslims are extremists) but from the Charlie Hebdo attacks to the killing of French priests and worshipers by Islamists, there clearly exists a significant problem.

Whether the epidemic of anti-church/anti-state attacks are coordinated or spontaneous, they combine to achieve a common goal. They fracture the French nation and drive a wedge between good people on both sides of France’s religious racial/divide.

This was chillingly demonstrated in October 2019 when a French Muslim convert drew his gun and murdered four of his colleagues in the Paris Police HQ.

The reason that Notre Dame’s inferno could never be admitted as an Islamist attack, is that the French state (and much of its population) is terrified of its Muslim minority and the consequences of an open clash with it.

Anyone daring to say this will immediately be accused of Islamophobia and racism by the Islamist’s allies among France’s extreme Left. Like the left throughout the west, they are defenders of Islamists through the “Red/Green” alliance. That’s why they were on the streets marching shoulder to shoulder with Islamists the day after the Hamas atrocities. American college professors used phrases to describe the slaughter as, “exhilarating.”

The situation is similar in France’s neighbor, England. The British police have long operated a system of tolerance of low-level antisemitic attacks.

When Suella Braverman took office in 2022 as British Home Secretary, she announced that British police must stop ignoring incidents of UK antisemitism.

The UK’s Jewish Chronicle reported, “The Home Secretary said a culture in the police of treating anti-Semitism as “racism lite” was to blame for the failure to convict thugs who bully Jews, including those who drove in convoy through north London’s Jewish community in 2021. In a pre-Hamas attack portent, they threatened to “Kill the Jews” and “rape their daughters.”

Suella Braverman said officers had been too slow to respond to the convoy because they didn’t take antisemitism seriously enough – and she vowed to change the “outrageous” state of affairs.

At the start of the Hamas War in a convention-breaking attack on the police, Braverman said London’s police force was ignoring lawbreaking by pro-Palestinian “mobs.” She described demonstrators calling for “International Intifada and “Jihad ” as “hate marchers.” Braverman claimed that British Police were “sympathetic” to Palestinian and Black Lives Matter demonstrations and tolerated systematic lawbreaking that they would not tolerate among other groups.

Photographs of smiling London police officers crouching for selfies with children carrying Palestinian flags only confirmed her accusations. That was particularly so when two Manchester police officers were photographed tearing down poster of Jews kidnapped by Hamas.

All this was way too much truth for the British political establishment and even her own Conservative party. Her vow to change the “Outrageous state of affairs” collapsed when she was promptly fired.

In her “Free Press” article entitled “British Police Are Giving in to the Mob,” Rupa Subramanya quoted an ex-London police sergeant, Tim Cruddas who retired from London’s police force four years ago.

“There are 100,000 demonstrators and 1,000 cops, so 100 to one. There’s only so much you can do on the day without causing a lot of disorder.”

Another reason Britain’s police appear to be supporting the pro-Palestinian faction is, according to Toby Young, the founder of the Free Speech Union, which champions free expression in Britain, “They are pro-Palestinian. They’re not impartial. They prioritize protecting the feelings of Muslims over protecting the feelings of Jews. I think that’s pretty indisputable.”

The truth is that the British police, like the British establishment, is simply scared stiff of the 7% of the population that are Muslim. A long history of UK terrorist attacks from suicide bombings, decapitations, violence and Muslims now filling 18% of UK prison places (27% in London) guarantees that they stay that way.

A picture of a plane hitting the Twin Towers on 9/11 appeared on social media recently. Underneath it appeared the question, “How did we move from this…to not offending the Muslims?”

The answer is really very simple, “When we got scared.”