#that's like. TOTALLY gnarly dude!

[daisukerine]

I have found you answered correctly, the council (consisting of Chappell roan and twelve cats) has spared ye

[for you mod, you’re not so lucky/HVJJJJ]

— 🌟🎀

OH?? chappell roan mention??? that's like, totally lit dude— i LOVE casual. like, i get it so much, man!

now, hold on— 12 cats?? WOAH, DUDE— that's like, a shit ton of cats. and what even is the council, bro? can i join?

[teaboot]

hey teaboot, have you ever been "canceled"/"called out" in certain tumblr circles for being a security guard?

for the record im not against you being a security guard or anything but i was just curious, cause i work in a museum but im scared to talk to people about it because i wouldn't want to anger anyone who believes in abolishing GLAM (galleries, libraries, archives, and museums) so im always curious to hear how other people feel about their professions :) thanks and i love your blog!

Oh, yeah, totally! Kind of a lot, actually.

And I sorta get it, honestly- we're living in some pretty major times of injustice and people SHOULD be suspicious of anyone operating in a position of authority- I've met some real shithead guards and cops, and I'd rather people film and question me and know that they're filming and questioning the shitheads, too, than have everyone in my community see a uniform and just assume everything is peachy.

Not so say that suspicion justifies threats and abuse, but like. Idk, I can see why it happens. I get the perspective, even if I don't agree with it.

And Im not gonna lie, there's been a few super gnarly threats, too? But like. Idk what to tell you. I figure a lot of it is just cause I've got a lot of people looking at this blog already? Bigger numbers means bigger chances, maybe?

But what the hell???? Abolishing LIBRARIES??? And GALLERIES?? ARCHIVES??? I sorta see the angle with museums seeing how a lot of shit is stolen but like. LOCAL museums with donated shit? Museums that DO get stuff with permission? Places with replicas? And who the fuck wants LIBRARIES gone???? That's some crazy shit, dude. Wild

But to answer your question, I guess it falls under the same umbrella as everything else we share online- don't divulge anything you wouldn't want used against you, right?

Sorry I can't help more, bud. But keep on trucking, yeah? Best of luck

[montereybayaquarium]

Mantis Shrimp, Seamount High, Sea-nior Class of 1984

Voted: Best Eyes & Most Likely to Start a Fight Favorite quote: “Party on, dudes.”

The mantis shrimp is truly bodacious—its radical colors and totally tubular eyes (they can move each eye independently!) are out of this world. It also packs a gnarly punch—capable of cracking glass—making it one of the baddest stomatopods around 💪😎

Rock on mantis shrimp, don’t ever change, and let’s hang out this summer!!

[bigwishes]

I went to the gym yesterday. I don't go there regularly, just to keep fit. When I was looking for a free locker, I accidentally opened one that was occupied but not locked.

I totally slammed that thing shut like, ASAP, no questions asked! It was, like, a matter of serious honor, you know what I'm saying? Yo, I swear I can't shake off the stench of those gnarly gym clothes from my nostrils!

Like, what's the deal with that, dude! It's like my nose has been hijacked by the funk and it won't let go. Send help, bruh! And y do i say "bruh"?

Hmmm seems like some curse left behind and forgotten, not to worry I'm sure its nothing too serious, in fact a lot of guys get scared by the word "curse" and don't see it for the blessing that it really is. That terrible smell hasn't just latched onto the inside of your nose dude, its latched onto you that's why you smell it non stop and you'll probably notice that when you don't go to the gym for a day the smell gets worse. A little counter intuitive I know but hey some people use thing sort stuff to encourage them to hit the gym more. You might want to up your 1 day a week routine to a 7 days a week policy unless you want to hold the world record for the worlds worst stench by the end of the week.

What's with saying "bruh, bro and duuuhhh" so often you ask? I dunno maybe the original owner of the locker made a wish to fit in at the gym more but that's most of your vocabulary now. You are still you, at least on the inside but nobody really knows about that anymore because you talk like a fucking moron so you get treated like one. It seems your muscles are really ballooning up too. This is probably for the best, you sweat a lot, say bro non stop may as well have the size to go with it otherwise people might think you are weird, better to just conform to the stereotype.

Huh? what's that? "like duhhh, bro can you errrrr, fix duuhhhh curses bro" Sorry my dumbass is a little rusty but I think you're asking for these wonderful gifts to be removed? nah man I won't be doing that you definitely came to the wrong place because I think all men should be like this. In fact I think you'd look better 10x bigger and sweatier but I guess this is a good starting point. But hey, the choice is still yours, either turn into a putrid smelly dumb cunt.....or be that with huge muscles. Better hit the gym dude I can already smell you getting worse.

[v1ctor1asecretangel]

Undercover

Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

warnings: p i v, semi public sex, bar bathroom sex, fluffy, bad smut writing cause i rushed it😭, slight fingering

word count: 2.1k

note: OKAY PLS READ FOR SOME CONTEXT!! so in this lets pretend peter doesnt know that erik is his father.... I LITERALLY COULD NOT THINK OF ANYONE ELSE TO PUT AS THE TARGET😭😭

MDNI 18+

Peter Maximoff, in true form, leaned casually against the bar, the mischievous glint in his deep bronze eyes shining beneath his tousled hair. A smirk danced on his lips, his trademark look, while his leather jacket gleamed slightly in the dim light. He threw you a playful glance, the corner of his mouth curling upward. Your pulse quickened, excitement intertwining with the thrill of your mission, the energy palpable between you.

The mission was straightforward in theory: infiltrate the bar, gather intelligence on a rumored underground operation, and remain unnoticed.

Peter raised a brow, his voice dripping with sarcastic charm. “So, you ready for this adventure? ’Cause I’m thinking we’re about to make one gnarly couple, don’t you?” His tone was light, but his eyes sparkled with that undeniable Maximoff mischief.

You gave him a skeptical look, keeping your voice low as you leaned closer. “Let’s just stick to the plan, okay? We need to blend in. Not make a scene.”

Peter, undeterred, shot you a mock pout. “Come on, don’t be such a square. We’re undercover, babe! Gotta add some spice. A little flirt-fest between us could totally sell this whole gig, don’tcha think?”

You sighed, shaking your head, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the edges of your lips. “Flirting isn’t part of the mission briefing. We’re supposed to act like a couple, not a couple of airheads having fun.”

He winked, leaning in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Relax, babe. It’s called method acting. Just roll with it. I mean, you’re lucky you get to hang with a guy as rad as me.” He leaned back, his grin widening. “Besides, a little hand-holding never killed anyone.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Hand-holding, huh? What’s next, kisses? I think you’re getting a little carried away, Maximoff.”

Peter shot you a playful smirk, waggling his eyebrows. “Who, me? Carried away? Pfft, nah. But hey, we gotta make it look real, right? And if that means we gotta smooch to sell the story, well… I’m just sayin’ im a pretty bitchin' kisser.” He slid his hand into yours, his fingers lacing through yours with ease. The sudden warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity up your arm, and despite your earlier words, you felt your pulse quicken.

You gave him a stern look, though the playful heat between you was undeniable. “Let’s just focus. We’ve got a job to do.”

Peter shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Sure thing, boss. But if this turns into a John Hughes flick, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He flashed you a grin, squeezing your hand gently before turning his attention to the room.

As the night stretched on, you and Peter navigated the bar seamlessly, weaving in and out of conversations and making casual small talk with patrons. Peter’s natural charm was disarming, and he wielded it with practiced ease, drawing people in with laughter and lighthearted banter. Meanwhile, you played the part of the attentive partner, throwing in affectionate glances and the occasional touch, all while keeping your senses sharp for any signs of your true objective.

“We’re looking for a dude named Erik,” you reminded him softly, leaning in to speak over the music. “Supposedly, he’s around here somewhere.”

Peter quirked a brow, tapping his chin theatrically. “Erik, huh? Sounds like a dude straight out of an action flick. Got it. Objective one: No making out with the fake boyfriend while looking for the bad guy. Objective two: Don’t get totally wrecked by said bad guy.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “Very funny. Let’s just stay focused.”

Peter’s energy never wavered, and he flitted effortlessly from group to group, flashing his trademark grin and making fast friends with everyone from the bartender to the bouncer. He threw himself into the role with abandon, though the playful tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface, always threatening to boil over.

“Man, this place is so bogus,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m stuck here with you.”

Peter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Bogus? Babe, this place is a gold mine club! The tunes are totally righteous, the vibe is chill, and the drinks? On Charles! What more could you ask for?”

Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible? Nah. Impossibly cool, maybe. Besides, you get to hang out with me. That’s primo, babe.”

As the banter continued, the underlying tension between you both crackled with intensity. Every glance, every brush of his hand against yours felt charged, like a live wire running beneath the surface of your mission.

After what felt like hours of mingling, you caught Peter’s eye and gave a subtle nod. It was time to move. Together, you made your way toward the back of the bar, slipping into a quieter, dimly lit corridor that led toward the restrooms. The pounding music faded into the background, leaving the space eerily quiet compared to the chaos just beyond.

“Erik's gotta be lurking back here somewhere.” you whispered, scanning the hallway.

Peter’s hand slipped from yours as he gestured down the hallway with a flick of his head. “I’ll take the right, you grab the left. Keep it cool, babe, don’t want things to go totally off the rails.”

Before you could argue, he was gone in a flash, disappearing down the right side of the corridor. You swallowed your nerves, adjusted your stance, and headed in the opposite direction.

The hall was dark, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and something faintly metallic. As you approached the restroom, the sound of running water and the occasional clatter of something metallic filled the otherwise quiet space.

Peter reappeared seconds later, his grin as confident as ever. “Miss me?”

“Not really.” you replied with a smile, trying to match his nonchalance. “Find anything?”

“Nada,” he said with a dramatic sigh, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. “But something tells me things are about to get, like, totally heated.”

The air between you shifted as Peter stepped closer, his presence magnetic. The playful banter faded, replaced by an intense silence that buzzed with unspoken anticipation. Your breath caught as the space between you narrowed, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

There was a shift in the air between you, the playful banter fading into something deeper, more palpable. Peter stepped closer, his presence magnetic, drawing you in without either of you uttering a word. The intensity in his gaze caught you off guard, and before you realized what was happening, the space between you vanished.

Your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss, but the restraint didn’t last. In a matter of moments, the kiss deepened, the passion between you igniting with a sudden and unrelenting force. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until every part of you was pressed against him. The world outside—the mission, the bar, everything—faded into a distant blur. All that existed was the heat of his touch, the fervor in his kiss, and the overwhelming sense that this moment had been inevitable from the start.

As the kiss intensified, you lost yourself in the feel of him. The warmth of his skin beneath your fingers, the way his breath hitched every time your lips brushed against his. His mouth moved with a hunger that matched your own, a silent agreement that this was more than just a cover for the mission.

your bodies moved in perfect unison, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Peter's hands traced down your back, sending shivers down your spine, and you felt his erection press against your tummy as he pushed you against the wall.

You slowly pulled away from the kiss, your lips tingling from the intensity of it, but your body remained firmly pressed against Peter's. Your breasts flush against his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt. The proximity between you was almost unbearable, each breath you took mixing with his, creating a charged intimacy that crackled in the small space between you. Your heart pounded in sync with his, the intensity of the moment thick and electrifying.

Your gaze locked onto his, unwavering and filled with an unspoken need. There was no hesitation in your voice as you whispered, your words heavy with desire. "Right here, Peter. Take me right here. Right now." The intensity in your eyes echoed the urgency in your voice, a plea that left no room for doubt, only raw, immediate passion.

all of a sudden you realize Peter has moved you both to a small restroom in the bar.

The bathroom was tiny, the walls painted a dark, almost black shade that made the light seem to flicker. Peter leaned you against the cool porcelain sink, his hands roaming up your body, leaving trails of heat in the tension. Your skin prickled with excitement, and you could feel the fabric of your dress straining against your curves. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasped, your hand reaching up to tangle in his silver locks. His touch was firm, yet gentle, as if he knew exactly how to coax the responses he wanted from you.

The kiss grew more passionate, your tongues dancing together as the music from the bar pounded in the background. It was a rhythm that matched the beating of your hearts, a tempo that spurred them on. Peter's hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. You arched into him, eager for more. He groaned, the sound vibrating through your chest.

With a swift move, Peter lifted you onto the sink, your bodies aligned in a way that made it clear what was about to happen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his muscles tense as he held you there. His eyes searched yours for extra reassurance, and you nodded, your eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored his. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that spoke of need and desire. His hands moved to your hips, guiding you closer. You feel peter lift up your dress and push aside your panties while also unzipping his jeans and pulling out his hard length. You could feel the head of his erection at your entrance.

The world outside the stall faded away as Peter pushed into you, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, your nails digging half moon shapes into his shoulders as he began to thrust into your begging hole. His strokes were deep and deliberate, and you met him with every thrust, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time. The coolness of the sink was a stark contrast to the heat between them, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth, the sound muffled by your kisses. Peter's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch. You could feel his fingers tightening, his movements becoming more urgent.

Your breathing grew ragged, and you knew he was close to the edge. The music grew louder, the bass line pounding in time with your hearts. Peter's hand slipped between your thighs, down to your clit. You bit back a cry as he began to rub it in gentle circles. The sensation was too much, and you felt yourself falling apart in his arms, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, and you felt him cum with you. His body shaking with the force of his release.

For a moment, You stayed like that, panting and clinging to each other, the only sound in the stall the muffled throb of the music outside. Then Peter leaned in, kissing your forehead gently, his eyes filled with a softness you hadn't seen before.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, Peter leaned his forehead against yours, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. But we should probably…”

“Get back to the mission?” Peter finished, his voice low and teasing. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips “Yeah, yeah. Mission first. But don’t think I’m done with you yet, babe.”

The thrill of the moment lingered between you as you got yourselves dressed. The mission still hanging in the air—but now, something much more electric simmered beneath the surface.

okay my shit 80s vocabulary needs to never be written again I APOLOGIZE IF ITS CORNY

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

dating headcanons

main 4 + butters

— ♡

stan

— definitely the type to bully you but loves you to death

— constantly posting you on social media

— you need him? he’s already there actually he’s been hiding in your walls

— gets super in his head a lot, requires a lot of reassurance & affection

— SUPER FUCKING PROTECTIVE

— some dude’s making you uncomfortable? his hand’s on your shoulder and he’s ready to beat the shit out of him

— the silent but deadly type

— basically no one fucks w his s/o

— but super duper soft

— sticky as fuck

— you thought kenny was a physical touch kinda guy? stan is 10 times worse

— constantly holding your hand or lacing your pinkies together

— prefers quiet nights in over nights out 100%

— movie nights are his absolute fav he loves the cliche holding hands in popcorn thing

— a bit of an alcoholic but never an angry drunk, he’ll be constantly up your ass blubbering about how much he loves you

— “your eyes are so pretty and your face is so pretty and i love your hair like that and how do you smell so good”

kyle

— if he were an anime character he’d be a tsundere for sure

— dislikes pda but in private he has no problem being affectionate

— is super awkward around you, doesn’t really know how to talk to you or how to act

— also prefers quiet nights in but in a totally different way

— would much rather read a book with your legs in his lap than watch a movie

— one phone call away tho don’t get him wrong

— if you need him he’s immediately on his way no questions asked

— very very very very protective

— also the type to hover behind you but the second you give him the go ahead he’s running his mouth

— all bark but also a super gnarly bite

— also super jealous and kind of insecure

— you’re his first real relationship so he’s always scared someone’s gonna steal you away

— the type to give you massages and ask you about your day

— domestic housewife fs, always cooking for you and making sure your house is clean

— always leaves sweet notes for you to wake up to but will never acknowledge them

— overall such a sweetheart, would do anything for you but is a stickler on saying the l word

— thinks it loses its sparkle if it’s said too much

kenny

— sticky horny bastard

— always cuddled up to you or holding your hand or kissing you

— big fan of pda

— if he’s not touching you and he’s in your presence someone’s getting hurt

— loves partying but also loves quality time with you

— would totally go out if you wanted but also would curl up in bed with you if you weren’t feeling it

— always eager to please you

— he’s like a dog, at your beck and call, awaiting your orders

— but don’t touch his s/o or he’ll go nuts

— not really the jealous type but definitely the possessive type

— like he doesn’t get worked up about someone hitting on you, he knows you’re fine as fuck, but the second someone tries to touch you his arms are around you and he’s kissing you

— very much a gentleman

— he makes very misogynistic comments about your body but ultimately you’re a queen and you should never have to lift a finger

— always worshipping the ground you walk on

— definitely a stoner

— giggles at everything you do when he’s high and 100% smokes you out every chance he gets

— he just loves you so much he’d literally combust

eric

— isn’t really one for affection, private or public

— definitely runs his mouth to you

— but the second you get upset he’s crying begging you to stop being mad rubbing your feet

— a messy bitch for sure

— always stirring up drama in the friend group and sitting back watching it all go down with you

— would definitely scheme with you about starting beef

— views you as his queen but treats you as an equal (which is huge for him because everyone is below him)

— hates seeing you cry and would easily tell off whichever son of a bitch did it

— but also wouldn’t hesitate to bully you to the verge of tears

— makes up for it by offering you some of his cheesy poofs

— unspoken acts of affection for sure

— hates going out

— he’d much rather watch a comedy movie and shit on the plot with you

— the type to act like he hates you around his friends but the second you’re in a private setting he’s reminding you that he loves you

— possessive, jealous, protective, the big 3

— kind of like a chihuahua, all bark no bite

— probably also low key an alcoholic but never drunk to the point of being a lovey dovey bitch

butters

— the sweetest boyfriend ever

— panics every time you cry or are upset in any way

— even if he’s grounded he’ll still find a way to talk to you

— if there’s a screen there’s a way

— doesn’t really fall into any category

— kind of just exists, way too happy that you’re dating him to notice anything else

— the type to post you on every social media platform he has

— would shout from the rooftops about how much he loves you

— very acts of service

— would do anything you asked as long as you were happy

— gives you back rubs every night

— sleeps with his head on your chest because he loves to listen to your heartbeat

— physical touch too

— loves holding your hand and caressing your cheeks

— stares at you for hours like “wow i can’t believe my s/o is this perfect”

— makes sure your needs are taken care of before his

— constantly texting you to remind you that he loves you and that you’re perfect in every way

— good morning and goodnight paragraphs even if you live together

— loves you to the moon and back and wants everyone to know it

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 17 - "Thad"

Computer Literacy was blessedly easy at least, she thought as she stumbled into the classroom, taking a steadying breath.

Her eyes almost automatically glanced up at N, who had nearly always given her a wave when he saw her enter, though today it looked like he was completely absorbed in conversation with someone else, a boy in a red backwards hat, brown peeking out from underneath it. Who was leaning on the back of her usual seat with his arms crossed.

She warily approached, was she going to have to find somewhere else to sit? There were a couple of others still free but, her and N were partners, how would they still work together?

She ignored the second train of thought, the one that was making her heart ache slightly at the prospect of having to go elsewhere, bring replaced by a more interesting friend so easily.

But, she didn't even have time to question it before N noticed her, and he gave her a radiant smile. “Hey Uzi! Sorry Thad, that's her seat your leaning on.”

The boy looked back at her, his eyes a dull green, like grass that had been shocked with weedkiller. A sports jacket clung to his shoulders, ‘Copper Football Team’ emblazoned on the front in yellow letters.

“Oh Hey, I'm Thad, sorry for taking your seat.” He moved off the back of her chair, dunking his hands in his pockets as he smiled, it was friendly, not as bright as N's but still warm and inviting.

“It's… fine.” She said awkwardly, in no real mood to socialize with the pain in her side.

“N said you two went ghost hunting last weekend. It's Gnarly, you two are braver then I am. I still get scared by the raccoon that lives under my house.”

Uzi blinked, taking a moment to register that she was being talked to, and a second more for her to realize it wasn't negative.

“Oh uh- Yeah, we did.” Uzi replied after a moment of struggling to bend down to put her backpack under the table, she didn't catch the way N looked at her worried lying when she flinched. “I wouldn't call N brave though, he got scared of an itty bitty spider, hehehe.”

“Hey!” N protested, pouting but not in a way that suggested he was actually upset.

“Aw she exposed you dude!” Thad laughed, but his attention was quickly back on her. “You're Uzi right? N mentioned your name, it's super badass. I wish I shared my name with a gun.”

Uzi felt herself blush, still not used to being complimented. And she couldn't really find the words to say to it either.

“I don't think Thad's a bad name.” N came to her rescue, thankfully. And Thad looked at him deadpan.

“When you find any character named “Thaddeus McFlynn” who isn't just in the background, or doesn't die a horrible death. Let me know.”

Uzi winced, man had a name like an old british man. She didn't envy him. N just shrugged.

“Anyway, I gotta get back to class, coach will chew my ass if I'm gone too long, I just came here to pick up his prints.” He picked up a stack of what looked like sign up papers, and turned back at N.

“Hey, I'm serious about signing up for one of our teams, you'd be great!” Thad gave him a finger gun and Uzi a small salute before he left the classroom, Uzi watching as he left.

N didn't really reply to that, just looked a little sad before shaking his head and returning all his attention to Uzi.

“Sorry about that. He was talking about me joining the basketball team since I'm so tall, then we somehow got onto what we did over the weekend and… yeah.” He rambled, but Uzi just nodded softly, it wasn't like she was expecting to remain N's only freind or anything, not with his personality. It's what she expected… honestly.

“It's fine.” How much had she said that today? It felt like a lot, her side throbbed uncomfortably as she tried to adjust.

“Hey uh. I know you told me to stop asking. And I promise I totally am, but… are you okay, you've looked uncomfortable all day.” He spoke up again after a second, and Uzi felt every single muscle in her body tense up, she was fine. She'd been through worse, way worse.

She turned to glare at him, words of vitriol bubbling up in her throat, but she only halfway opened her mouth before his soft, warm expression made them die into nothing, a gentle smile worn on his face and genuine concern behind those caramel eyes.

She sighed.

“I'm fine, really, just… had a run in with someone. I've been through worse.”

“Oh… well um…” N really didn't know how to help, that answer was… vague at best. But he didn't want to scare her off from opening up more by pushing her. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked at him for a beat, taking in his nervous smile.

“No.” She replied simply, and the window he'd had was abruptly shut in his face. His smile fell a little.

“You can keep distracting me though. That's helping.” She added after a minute, and his head snapped back up, she was avoiding his eyes, but he caught a small smile gracing her face.

And with another brilliant smile, thats what he did, dragging her into a conversation about dogs that she did her best to listen intently to, the pain being slightly buried under the weight of his voice.

When it was finally time to go home, Uzi was bracing herself on one of the brick pillars in front of the building, knowing all she needed was to walk home and she could treat herself with some sweet, sweet painkillers. It was just… actually getting there that was going to be the difficult part.

It wasn't that far away, but with how difficult walking had become, she knew it was going to be complete and total agnoy. Stalling, she was stalling.

What were the chances of her dad actually being home for once to drive her back? Probably slim to none, but… she could check.

She pulled out her phone, Khan being the first name in her contacts, the second, and last, being N.

Uzi: Hey Dad, just wondering if u could pick me up from school today.

She stared at the messaging app for almost a full minute with no response before she grumbled, leaning against the brick and closing her eyes for a moment.

When she did eventually bring her head back up, she realized that she'd been standing against the pillar for way too long, the second wave of busses already on their way out, meaning she'd been there for at least ten minutes.

Maybe she was in more pain than she thought…

“Uzi?” A voice caught her attention, and she spun around to be face to face with N's stupidly tall figure, Thad was right… he would be good for basketball.

She was starting to feel warm, and slightly nauseous, neither were any good signs, bit both she ignored.

“O-oh hey N.” Shit, her voice was a little shaky now too, she placed a palm onto the brick behind her, feeling a bit like she might pass out. Crap, that probably meant Lizzy pinched something in her somewhere, that was great.

“I thought you would've left already. Don't you walk home?” One of his brows were raised, he looked behind her, Tessa had pulled in and was waiting for him.

“Just… enjoying the day…?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” He asked, clearly not believing her in the slightest. Uzi blinked, trying to stifle the painful tremble in her voice.

“It didn't.” She tried, trying to begin to walk away, only to stumble and nearly trip over nothing.

Fuck

“Woah hey! Uzi!” His hands were on her now, she didn't want them to be, she didn't want to be seen as weak, but her stupid body had at this point completely betrayed her, she felt the bile begin to burn it's way into her throat.

Oh shit not he-

She scrambled over to the nearest bush, throwing his hands off her and completely emptied her bruised stomach, holding onto one of those weird round concrete nubs for support.

When she finished, she shakily stood up, wiping her mouth, a small amount of blood coming off onto the back of her hand.

Still… she did feel marginally better.

N was behind her, looking between Tessa's car and her franticly, a hand gently resting on her back. She tried to catch her breath.

She heard a car door slam and rushing footsteps coming her direction before light invaded her vision

I'm about to pass out…

She thought before she felt herself begin to slowly fall backwards, before all her senses went to static…

Next ->

[ki-kink]

It was, like, totally gnarly trying to fit in at the new school, man. But snagging threads from the mall and slurping schlongs at the station to make that cheddar became, like, a walk in the park, dude!

[beachypeasysandy]

Welcome back to the 80's!

Like, it's pretty rad that this totally tubular 80's corner bodega market has everything you need.

You can fer sure stop in and get a pretty gnarly cup of coffee, epic vending machine finds, and wicked everyday items.

And like, if the dude or dudette that own it want to live above, they totally can in one of the bodacious apartments upstairs.

Built for the ts4backtothe80s save collab hosted by the amazing and wonderful @kevthebuildr . Entire save file available on Kev's patreon: https://www.patreon.com/KevTheBuilder/posts . And seriously, check out the trailer for the collab while you're there.

Gallery ID: BeachyPeasySandy Lot: Newcrest - Avarice Acres (40x30 corner lot) No CC Playtested

[user211201]

Gnarly Tides

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---

We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.

Dude you've gotta check this out!

I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!

Bring your goggles along too man!

Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...

Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.

The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.

Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!

To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"

He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.

"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?

Brawler's Stance!

His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.

SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--

SPLASH!

"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.

PUMP IT UP!

WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.

Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--

WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.

Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.

The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.

With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.

Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.

With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--

SPLASH!!!!

"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.

IT'S WORKOUT TIME!

His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.

The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.

Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.

"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."

SPLASHHHH!

"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"

HANG TEN DUDE!

"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.

"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.

"And it just gets better and BETTER!"

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.

His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.

Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.

With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"

"A Big Wave In Fighting!"

SPLASH!

[onmyyan]

Can you please make more Marco's headcanons like I bet he has a weapon collection

TW'S: YANDERE THEMES, MURDER MENTION, BONES AS A GIFT, MARCOS IS A WARNING HIMSELF LMAO (NOT EDITED)

S'more Marcos Hc's

Absolutely has a weapons collection and he names every single one he gets his grubby little hands on.

His guns are all custom made and he has this set of neon throwing knives, razor sharp and deadly.

His creepy little warehouse is a lot less creepy on the inside, posters of his favorite movies and bands litter the walls, sure their spattered with blood but I digress, the training dummies have spray painted smiley faces and when he gets bored he likes to see just how many knives can fit in one face.

He's the best at killing and it shows, has gotten paid to kill twice now and loved it.

And with both of those phat checks he was able to spend time doing his favorite thing, doting on you.

Once bought one of those really cool looking swords from this sketchy shop downtown and tried to decapitate a guy with it but when he brought the weapon down on the poor dudes neck it breaks like a Lego set and they just stand there in this painfully awkward silence.

He of course has to shoot him so no one ever hears of his embarrassment.

Has a few gnarly scars on his legs from his early skateboarding days, if Manny bet him he couldn't grind down their highschools 25ft stair railing he absolutely does it, even though he'd only just got the board that morning.

Had a kill bill phase where he kept trynna pluck people's eyes out like Uma Thurman did the blonde shawty in the trailer.

He the type to silently sway with you in the kitchen at some ungodly hour, his hand on your hips, humming a song he doesn't know the lyrics to.

Stops mid sentence a lot just cuz he can't wrap his head around someone as incredible as you being his.

The biggest, goofiest smile on his face let's you know he's lost in lala land and hasn't heard the last 30 seconds of your conversation

But you find it hard to be mad when he's drawing hearts into your skin and staring into your eyes with so much love it catches you off guard.

Wants matching tattoos but the idea of someone getting that close to you makes his skin itch so that won't happen until he can do it himself.

Him and Manny have weekly hang outs where they each dish and gossip about their individual darlings.

His twin is the only other man he'd trust you to be alone with, and it's not a lack of faith in you, so much as it is a lack of faith in the rest of the world.

His older brothers are no exception to this rule, the rare times you do meet with them Marcos keeps it short and sweet, and he never leaves your side.

If you're a morbid little gremlin like he is, he will absolutely gift you the bones of his latest kill (after a deep cleaning ofc) he tells you they're just super realistic replicas 👀 and you have no idea it's the scumbag who hit on you a few weeks ago, nothing too serious just a finger bone or piece of skull.

Wants to get married yesterday, likes dropping subtle hints like,

"hm our ring fingers looks kinda empty👀" or

"Just hypothetically - like totally not serious but between these two venues which one screams happily ever after? 👀"

As much as his playboy past would lead you to believe he's the noncommittal type, you are his heart and soul, and he'd rather gut himself in a dirty street gutter then be with anyone but you.

The second he realizes he loves you he's got it in his mind that you're endgame, he will be your loving husband and you will be buried together.

Sends you those deep-fried semi scary memes and TikTok's when it's 3AM and he knows you aren't sleep.

He knows because he cloned your phone and can constantly see what you're doing.

Reads romance novels for ideas on how to well, romance you, because he heard you mention once that you loved how they portray love in the stories.

Sprays your perfume in the room when you're at school/work/away from him long enough and it helps to quell his possessiveness

Just barely though because you mention lunch and whoop look who's showing up, food in hand and mentally manifesting you say fuck it and just go home with him.

Sometimes he has these night terrors where you're just gone and he wakes up crying, chest heaving from the heavy pit that had formed, and god forbid you're not in bed when he wakes up because he needs to be held, needs to lay his ear on your chest and hear you're still there, still with him.

Tries to make you breakfast in bed once and gives you both food poisoning but on the bright side you stay in bed beside him all day and he finds all the running back and forth to the bathroom totally worth it.

You throw on one of his shirts in a hurry one morning and he is transfixed, talking absolutely gobsmacked by how tantalizing you look when you're completely surrounded by him.

Low-key sabotages your wardrobe by hiding your shirts when he knows you're in a rush just so have to wear something of his.

"Sorry baby, no clue where that pesky shirt ran off to buuut I just so happen to have this here wonderfully made Versace button up of mine that really makes your eyes pop :) how lucky is that huh?"

Sprays it with cologne the night before so if any mf gets too close they smell him.

Can't say no to you, like at all.

Type of mf to throw his stupidly expensive jacket on the floor so you don't have to step in a puddle because he seen it in a movie once. (You could have just avoided the puddle but he looked so proud of himself as he held your hand to jump over it you had to indulge him)

Horny drunk but also a super lovey dovey drunk.

Loves taking you to concert's, especially when his favorite metal bands are playing, being surrounded by the music he loves is only enhanced when he looks down and sees you enjoying it too.

Talks in his sleep, 50% of the time its terrifying, nonsensical, ramblings but the other half is all about you, even when he's unconscious, you're on his mind.

[daisukerine]

daisuke do you like brainrot :3? (also ily pls dont die)

dude? i'm like, highkey sigma. you don't even need to ask that. my rizz is TOTALLY tight, dude! but i mean, like— i guess brainrot's funny but it gets kinda annoying after a bit. old school lingo is like, wayy better! saying gnarly is way cooler than saying cool.

[velvetvexations]

Okay, I'm gonna post these I've had since Christmas, and then I'd rather not do anymore "kink confessions." Like I've said I was never actually doing that in the first place, some people just talked about their kinks and then people started sending in more. I have ZERO problem with kink talk and actively encourage you to talk to me about your kinks, but the issue with sending in just to say "I have this kink!" is that then everyone sends in more and more for the rrrrrest of eternity. So in the case of kinks in particular I would prefer that you have something to say about it beyond merely that you possess one.

Love you Velvet Nation. <3

YAY, SOMEONE ELSE INTO AMPUTATION!!!! YOU'RE SO AWESOME OTHER ANON let me push u around in a bath chair we can go to the park

how wholesome

kink-confession time: the biggest thing I'm into is just like BL or smut of gay dudes. makes me wish I had a dick and prostate :( I mean it's possible and I'm not strictly woman but... ya know. transphobia.

love you anon <3

mould kink guy. big thing for me is like growing mould? and like it slowly consuming me. like I notice there's mould growing on my feet and then later it's up my legs and then before long it's grown all over me and i'm no longer human I've been consumed by the mould. or like some sort of food-themed degradation about how I'm not good anymore cause I'm growing mould now. there's someone who draws (very much non-kink) art of fruit people going mouldy and I guess one day I was looking at it and I was like. wish that was me.

I wanna be a fruit boy someone throws out cause I've gone mouldy so now I'm worthless. --- that could be fun too. other fungi doesn't do it as much for me for some reason. like mushrooms are cool and all but its just not the same. I kinda want to make clothes/accessories that make it look like i'm growing mould but also that seems like a lot of work.

Cutting just a bit out because that was a little gnarly for me, but ilu and your valid and so, so fascinating.

here's a mild kink confession: I'm a middle-aged dyke and I wish all those girls clamoring for a dommy mommy were serious (and local). I want to put them to work around my house while I lounge around with tits out and a whiskey in hand, doling out verbal abuse and floggings as I feel like it. 😪

you handshake emoji me putting them bitches to work

just saw a post about that to participate in forcemasc you should be acknowledging its problematic and transmisogynistic origins.

??? how tf are its origins transmisogynistic???? huh???

it isn't lol

*triple checking to make sure anon is on* Kinkfession time!

One of the confessions a while back about normalization kink made me remember something I used to fantasize a lot about as a teenager (and am now fantasizing about again, lol) where it was totally normal to have the option to sign away all your rights and become basically a human sex toy.

There was a virginity element, where people would pay extra for each avenue of virginity (anal, oral, and vaginal) and they referred to the hymen being intact and un-stretched as the tamper seal. (Not exactly anatomically correct but ya know, fantasy land.)

Sometimes a toy could be returned for a partial refund, and the more times they’d been used and returned, the more desperate for stimulation they’d be, to the point where some of the toys needed to plug up their holes when they weren’t actively being used.

There was just this big wall of glass display cases with naked toys, with a price, their virginity status, and for a few “No Returns, No Refunds” warning, because they were getting too slutty for the facility to manage after too many return cycles.

The salesperson would walk customers down the line and talk about each of the products. How “this one is expensive, but as you can see, it still has its tamper seal in tact! Completely virginal, or your money back!” or “If you’re looking for a discounted option, this toy was lightly used, but is still tight,” or “This one needs a lot of extra care. We’re no longer taking returns for it, but if you want something you can be rough with, then it might be the toy for you! Plus it’s a real bargain. We’re practically giving it away at this point!”

Some buyers would pick virgin toys just to return them completely fucked out and worth half their original value.

Never could quite tell if I was supposed to be the toy, the buyer, or the salesperson in this fantasy, but I sure had fun either way!

this is the future liberals want

[sillymaxing]

Hi it's me again :3 give me angst hcs for a Tord x Matt pairing maybe?? Or for Tom x Matt!

Maybe I will do BOTH.

In this ask, everything is set in a timeline where Red Army invades very soon after The End. Like a months or two after Matt, Edd, and Tom move into a new apartment.

Note: I LOVE this ask guys. I didn’t really capture the angst like I could have in a fic. But I certainly described it!! Also, I didn’t implement any romance….. if you want that I can make another hc list :3

But NORMALLY I do platonic stuff.

CW: Gun violence, mentions of war, implied torture if you squint really hard, gore, near death experience, implied kidnapping, body horror. Let me know if I missed anything!

Tom & Matt Angst

For this, I’m honestly thinking about Matt and Tom getting separated first. Red Army invades, all 3 run, but Tom gets separated from Matt and Edd.

I think Edd would abandon Matt pretty quickly after feeling like Matt is slowing him down. Matt would have trouble swallowing his fear of what’s happening in the start, and Edd wouldn’t stick around with someone who he thinks could shift and join the Red Army, or surrender.

Matt would have to learn how to manage things on his own and fast.

Tom and Matt would regroup at some point, probably after Tom fends off some soldiers trying to attack Matt.

Maybe on his knees, shaking, with a soldier’s gun to his head. And then he sees the dude drop dead right in front of him. Tom runs up to Matt. THATS when they regroup, and Matt explains how Edd left. This totally won’t cause Tom a long-living grudge and hatred for Edd! I’m sure!!

Things will certainly get difficult when WANTED posters start showing up everywhere they go, and radio stations start to broadcast a description of Tom, Matt, and Edd, expressing the Red Army wants them to be turned in ALIVE.

There are different bounties on each of them. It seems like Tom is the one most sought out by the Red Army.

Matt certainly tries to convince Tom to surrender. It’s hard to get by on little food and shelter. Matt expresses that maybe Red Leader is trying to help them. Tord wants them alive. Not dead, not even hurt.

Tom inevitably gets kidnapped first, probably out to sneak by and steal food, leaving Matt at their current shelter.

Matt thinks Tom abandoned him too.

When Tom is kidnapped, he stands his ground for months. He doesn’t give in, doesn’t talk, withstands torture.

The next time he sees Matt, he’s in a Red Army uniform. Tom feels so betrayed, still being stuck in a cell. It’s obvious that Matt surrendered, gave in. Something else happened, considering the prosthetic face bits.

Their friendship is never the same. Matt is certainly forced to partake in watching over Tom. Tord encourages the idea that Tom abandoned him, so there is a constant feeling of anger between the two.

Tord & Matt Angst

Matt HATES Tord. At least in the beginning. Matt was the one who beat the shit out of him in The End with the robot.

But seeing his beautiful face on posters, saying Tord needed him alive? It put a little hope in his heart. Maybe Tord didn’t really mean to hurt him.

At some point, a while after he had captured Tom, Tord got a call about Matt having been captured.

What Tord didn’t know is that the people who captured him didn’t get the whole “Wanted Alive” memo.

Needless to say, they were both killed on sight the moment Tord arrived to retrieve Matt.

Matt was critical condition. He tried to run from the bounty hunters, but ended up getting shot in the head. Pretty gnarly, took his entire jaw off. But he somehow survived with only a severe flesh wound.

He was in a coma for a while. Tord really didn’t know if Matt would live, and wished he could go back and make the death of the bounty hunters a bit slower.

Tord considered Matt to be a friend of his. Leaving him in the first place hurt. Hurting him hurt. In the moment of exploding the house, Tord was filled with rage and nothing else. It was all meant to be taken out on Tom. Not Matt and Edd.

But afterwards, guilt ate away at him, gnawing at his bones until he was nauseous.

When Matt woke up, Tord stayed by his side for days, letting Paul and Pat take over duties for him.

Matt wasn’t a fan of this. Being cuffed to a hospital bed made it difficult to beat the shit out of Tord for all the awful things he did.

Matt found that he couldn’t speak. Just make noises. Apparently his tongue was still in tact, which was good. But having your jaw ripped off your face kinda inhibits your ability to communicate.

Tord tried to accommodate for this. He wanted so badly to explain everything to Matt. To hear what he had to say. To try and find some common ground. So he gives Matt tablet and notepad. It was his choice which one he wanted to communicate with.

But Matt wouldn’t indulge, and his days were spent moping, crying, and ignoring everything Tord had to say.

Of course, during all of these visits to Matt, Tord is telling Tom that Matt surrendered and is living a life of luxury.

Also, here’s a big kicker guys, Tord refuses to give Matt a mirror. No reflective surfaces at all.

Even after the surgery to implement the prosthetic jaw.

Of course, that wasn’t even the main concern. Getting Matt to be able to use it was WORK. Especially when the only time he accepted physical and speech therapy, the only words that would come out of his mouth were insults.

Slowly, Matt starts to break. He’s allowed out of the hospital room, even eventually allowed to see Tom. Of course, Tord tells Matt that Tom abandoned him.

It makes Matt rely on Tord a little bit. For like, ALL his emotional support. Tord is happy to help.

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

Has there ever been a more beautiful man than Alain Delon in the 60s?

Currently on a marathon and except for Rocco and His Brothers which was a little too melodramatic for my taste—PTSD from growing up with telenovelas—I feel like I’ve stumbled upon a motherload of cinematic gems. When they say “they don’t make movies like these anymore” this is what they mean…

Purple Noon is the first film adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr. Ripley. Gotta suspend your disbelief that Delon would (literally) kill to be someone else during that era, but it’s still a gripping watch. From the fashion to the cinematography, a visual feast as well.

I only knew that Le Samouraï was a highly-rated classic and that it was a crime thriller… I wasn’t aware of its legacy. As the story unfolded though, it dawned on me: “Ahhh this is the film all THOSE other movies want to be.” David Fincher’s The Killer was foremost on my mind. And Delon’s Jef Costello, to this day, lives on in many characters, particularly in portrayals of antiheros.

There WAS a reason La Piscine reminded me so much of Luca Guadanino’s A Bigger Splash… it’s the source material. I’d bet good money the storyline in the second season of HBO’s White Lotus (the one with Aubrey Plaza, Will Sharpe, Meghann Fahy, and Theo James) also took inspiration from this. What a film though. Although I could anticipate where it was going, it still held me in rapt suspense. The lush cinematography, the tight script, the beautiful quartet spiraling into pyschological warfare… I loved every gnarly sexy minute of it.

Going slightly off-topic, if they ever make a biopic of this man's life, I can totally see Daniel Brühl playing him.

Hear me out: he has a similar mix of manly and boyish features (dude could probably play the 25-year-old version if he shaved off his beard); he's not French but he can speak the language well and also has that European charm and elegance going for him; he has a way of capturing a person's essence even though he doesn't resemble them much in real life (e.g. Niki Lauda in Rush and Karl Lagerfeld in Becoming Karl Lagerfeld); and he's a phenomenal and dedicated actor known for his portrayal of morally ambiguous characters, which, from what I've gathered, Delon was.

That he was a massive fan growing up probably helps, too. I wouldn't be surprised if he's seen all of his movies. This was from decades ago, but it's the most Delon-esque photo of Brühl's I could find...

[witchofthesouls]

Ayoooooo, Primeval Anon here, to respond to your response (don't worry too much about how long you took to answer, it was worth the wait)!

Omfg, you had me hooked in when you mentioned Bloodborne-influenced lore. I love the hell out of Bloodborne, and just in general From Software's Dark Fantasy settings. And I love that premise. It definitely fits in with the Quintessons clearly aquatically-influenced nature.

I also enjoy the idea of the Primes balancing each other out with their different natures. As well as the idea that the Quintessons kinda... cannibalized him... fucking gnarly lol.

Just imagine, post-occupation, there's these series skirmishes, perhaps even smaller-scale wars, between the og Prime worshipping groups and the the emerging sects of Quintesson-influenced cultists. Something like

Priest from Kaon: For it is said that in his wisdom, Megatronus- Priest from [SETTLEMENT NAME REDACTED]: You mean Mortilus? Priest from Kaon: :| *The settlement of [NAME REDACTED] was procedurally, systematically decimated in their war with the Kaonites*

Now, I don't know about other continuities they've featured in, like Aligned, but in G1 they definitely had some sort of caste system. Only ranking I can immediately think of are the "Judges", which would be the ones people generally think of when it comes to the Quintessons, there were a few other variants if I'm remembering it right. There was a video that I saw that talked about this, I'll have to go and re-watch it.

Anyways yeah, maybe the castes are made up of different sub-species within the Quintessons genus? And then under them come the Sharkticons and Allicons (Those weird croc-like dudes who nab Kup and Hotrod after they end up on Quintessa). Maybe they were at one point Cybertronian Wilders who were abducted by the Quintessons during the occupation and, through a mix of selective breeding and genetic modification, were able to turn them in their own obedient, self-replenishing army, that whenever the Quintessons aren't enacting some campaign of destruction or conquest, just kinda vibe in the oceans of Quintessa alongside the local fauna of the planet.

Y'know... now that I think about it, since the Quintessons would clearly inherit Quintus' unhinged daydreamer work ethic, do you think they'd also fuck with the wildlife of their homeworld, perhaps even the planet itself??? Gods, I hate how the Quintessons are so underdeveloped because they exist in the same universe as the Transformers.

Yeah, I'm really disappointed how the Quintessons as a whole are really underutilized as characters and background lore.

I mean, the shit is right there!

Me, if given the chance to sit down with a new Transformers team to talk about leveraging the connection between Cybertron, Earth, and Quintessa with supernatural elements:

Personally, I'm more of the "Quintessons fucked with their own planet" camp. Don't get me wrong, the Quintessons had established a massive empire to command resources, including bodies, but the Allicons and Sharkticons seem to be directly from Quintessa. Both fit the aquatic theme going on. Plus, sharks are natural predators of cephalopods and attack injured or sick whales (another predator of squids). While alligators don't usually eat cephalopods, they are an apex predator that does go on land and will eat just about anything. Soooo, easy clean up as well as population control on campaign?

I totally believe it's within character for the highest castes of Quintessons to be cyborgs/techno-organic instead of full mechanoid because of certain kinds of resistances and the way they control their fully mechanical populations. And they would totally be in genetic modification, selective breeding, and terraforming as a whole because 1) absolute control, 2) meshes Quintus' own special interests with the Quintessons' military and economic might, and 3) sustainability, what's that!?

The last point is the kicker because it's what really cements their own origins via Quintus Prime. That particular Prime truly believed that life should flourish at all costs. The problem? Environments can only support so much before nature sets up its own checks and balances, or the entire thing ends up collapsing.

Well, Quintus bypassed nature's complex and fragile systems and would have shown his organic creations how to overcome their own limitations: biological, physical, and environmental. He's like the guy that would successfully crossbreed potato and kudzu because the resulting crop would feed millions upon millions... at the astronomical cost of arable land, soil health, decline of biodiversity, and property management due to accumulated damages.

Quintus doesn't worry about that because it's part of the process! He's collecting data for future reference and starts working on fertilizers to support the crossbreeds immense nutritional demands, animal husbandry so herbivores can chomp down on the remains, and construction materials/architectural designs resistant to plant growth damage.

Quintus, you crazy scientist of a dreamer, that's not the fucking point!

So yeah, because Quintus didn't have his siblings to kick his ass about sustainable measures (because everything from medicinal to food to construction had to come some somewhere), Quintessa got overharvested or destroyed. Because of the immense deprivation, Quintessons went colonial on their planetary neighbors. Because they succeeded with their neighbors and never thought to change their way of life because of yummy resources, they went on campaign into distant systems where they cut their teeth against mechanical species and subjugated them.

And because the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie pattern would take way too long to get to my point: the Quintessons literally built their way to conquered Cybertron, fuck that planet and its indigenous people and fauna over in the spectacular fashion they did to Quintessa, got kicked off as their empire almost collapsed, but literally had a direct hand to the civil war between Autobots and Decepticons that lead to the final stand off on Earth.

(Funny enough, the civil war was on a scale so massive that it encompassed galaxies and disrupted the current rendition of the Quintesson Pan Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere. They literally built the greatest threats to their own empires. Who would have thought?!)

Religious tensions after the Quintessons been kicked off would have been an interesting direction to explore. Even life during the occupation as the Thirteen would have been symbols of rebellion versus the Quintessons' rabid methods to obfuscate their own origins as well as tactics to break the cultural roots and ties of new subjugated planets.

Because old names become illegal, new epitaphs or names are given to undermine the regime and eventually become the new cultural practice. Then, there's the cultural blend between the natives and the colonial powers as well as the generations purposely raised in a certain cultural mindset. Since the Quintessons took control of the Well, it's a safe bet that they also took control of the institutional pillars of the society: religion, science, and law.

Primes are still titanic figures on post-occupation Cybertron, so perhaps Quintessons had only limited success in destroying mythic tales and religious traditions. Because the newer generations took on the Quintessons' distaste towards beasts and untouched nature as well as kept Quintessons' way of social hierarchy that they knew.

Quintessons emphasized function as Cybertronians (and other mechanoids) are machines compared to them. All machines have certain functions, no? Some machines are meant for certain roles, no? Machines are only capable as much as programmed, but Quintessons are far more advanced because they overcame their limitations with their own creative endeavors!

Quintessons basically treated Cybertronians as living appliances, gadgets, and animals. To them, a Cybertronian was a more fun and dynamic Siri or Alexa than a real person. Sure, a Quint could bond and form an emotional attachment, but it's still not truly 'alive.' And they codified that into their own laws.

Basically, Quintessons would have been okay with Prima and his Guiding Hand. They would have propped up his specific actions on how civilization should be (cement more tensions between city-states and Wilder tribes and unregulated environmental policies), switch up or change key mythology (Prima and Megatronus being split-spark twins that rule together into Prima being the sole Sun and Megatronus becoming a late brother that became the Great Evil that became jealous of the Sun and destroyed Life.), and straight up destroyed or damaged historic and culturally significant items and practices that deem it otherwise (the Well of Allsparks; removing the golden horns of fully-trained doctors that pay tribute to Liege Maximo's ties to medicine; the removal of various sigils of specific Primes and associated groupings, Onyx's Mask removed from stages as it functioned as Comedy and Tragedy masks).