#there's a lot more to it than just

[face-breaker]

somewhere out there is a demand that needs supplyin' — and once it comes across settrigh's desk, he's making sure it gets fulfilled.

the glaringly obvious centerpiece of the boss' portfolio is what we know as THE PIT — ionia's biggest, most well-known underground fighting ring. it's here that sett made his first step towards entrepreneurship, taking over the establishment at the age of 21, after fighting in the ring himself for 5 years. i won't go too far into detail about the pit ( and it's subsidiaries ) in this post, as i've already got a much more refined post saved in my drafts — but just know, that his revenue from the pit makes up a little over 50% of his annual profits. now, while VIOLENCE is settrigh's main business, he's got his hands in quite a few other ventures. another chunk of his purse is funded by textile production and sales. specifically high end fabrics native to ionia, such as SILK. less than 30% of his sales are domestic, the rest being sold all over runeterra, in places that can afford the delicacy — his main buyers being in piltover, demacia and shurima, but he's got accounts in just about every region. it's a relatively tame component of his assets, compared to some of the others. the whole process is fairly transparent, and surprisingly legal, as sett refuses to extort his own people in such a way. he pays his laborers well, and doesn't force egregious hours to meet quotas. this is due in part to his mother having been part of that particular workforce before. growing up, he's seen first hand how she was treated and what it did to her over time. this is one of settrigh's only business ventures that his mother is fully aware of and only makes up around 15% of his portfolio — it's still, however, equivalent to a multimillion-dollar book. a slightly heftier piece to the puzzle would be his hand in the shipping trade. ionia, being the land of unspoiled beauty and natural magic, it's people were never ones to cultivate it's harvest beyond their own needs in an attempt to protect it's resources. the land is also surrounded by treacherous seas few are willing to sail. between those two quandaries, selling and trading beyond the continent weren't really concerns of the people for quite some time — and the few who did, lost interest and faith after the first noxian invasion. with their lands ravished, a general sense of unease settled across ionia. total resources were demolished and, those that weren't, quickly depleted over the years. this remained an issue for years to come. for the first time in the land's history, they would need to rely heavily on external trading and importing of goods across the entire nation to survive. but they lacked the infrastructure for international trading — a gap settrigh would later fill. it not only helped in supporting the business for his textile and other smaller dealings, but enriched the first lands as a whole — finally allowing the people to buy, sell and trade across runeterra. as sett's dealings in shipping and trade stand today, over half of ionia's trade is shipped straight through him. and that number is so large because his business model is quite the gray area. while it started out as mostly dry goods and his own products, as word got around that ionia joined the major trading scene and the business began to boom, questionable offers began to roll in. the BLACK MARKET TRADES, the weapon shipments — the payout was too good to pass up. and, well, as the boss always said:

the only thing an honest livin' makes you is BROKE.

so he'd accept those too — typically covering it up with the more legal contracts as they moved through each region. the operation as a whole makes up another 30% of his profits. those are the main three business ventures sett's found himself tangled in. all three of course branch off into smaller, more local covenants and dealings, but seeing as this post is already longer than i originally intended it to be, i won't keep babbling about it here. but just know, he has a contact for just about anything you can want, need or think of under the sun. no, really — anything.

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[tariah23]

White people are miserable, racist losers period. They’ve even been getting mad at Japanese people for correcting them about Yasuke as well.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.

You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?

Click on their name. And look at their profile.

I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.

"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.

"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.

Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.

Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.

Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.

I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.

Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.

[self-loving-vampire]

Problem #1 regarding child abuse is that a lot of people seem to struggle to imagine normal, respectable-looking parents and other authority figures ever doing it despite the statistics so instead they do the stranger danger panic and completely overlook some of the greatest threats.

Problem #2 is that even when people understand, even if in an abstract way, that parents can be abusive they just... don't seem to actually register that as something that can apply to real life. It's just hypothetical to them and doesn't actually guide their ideas of how to prevent child abuse.

Problem #3 is that even after overcoming the above biases a lot of people have a very narrow image of what abusive parenting is where they imagine like... people doing violent things basically out of sadism and without provocation. They don't seem to think it's "real" abuse if the victim did something that "justifies" punitive violence, like disobeying the parents.

In fact, most people think parents have a right to do a whole lot of awful things to their children beyond just hitting them, like violating their privacy, controlling their access to information, and deciding what/when/if they eat, among other things.

[chloesimaginationthings]

"They call it the MANGLE" - FNAF 2 phone guy

[the-sketches-lair]

I can't help, but wonder...

[the-meme-monarch]

thought ‘what if the vintage skins were more in line with actual 1930’s cartoons design sensibilities’ and promptly went mental. plus a bonus two-tone dandy ! since he’s not playable and all

so some things i learned as i was doing this:

-solo cups were not invented until the 70s, so scraps has a tin can as part of her tail instead

-hoodies WERE invented in the 30s but were generally worn by warehouse workers bc of the cold. they didn’t get worn by the general public until the 70s, so toodles and cosmo are Not wearing them

-leg warmers were invented in the 40s but also didn’t get popular until the 70s so glisten’s legs get to be naked. sad !

-GASHAPONS WEREN’T INVENTED UNTIL THE 60s. GIGI SHOULDN’T EVEN EXIST HERE. BUT I DIDN’T FIND THAT OUT UNTIL I WAS DONE DRAWING ALL THIS. OOPS !!!

other than that it was just a lot of ‘put gloves and/or shoes and/or pants on them. sometimes noses’

under the cut is All of them together and then also the sketch :]

[eggscargot]

i promise im not being tooooo mean to stan

i also couldnt figure it out when someone showed it to me the first time NUDNDJDRNJFJ

love sibling energy hehe

[ID: Ford Pines and Stan Pines are making heart shapes with their pointer finger snd middle fingers. Ford is giggling at Stan and doing it correctly, while Stan struggles and says, "Keep laughing! See what happens-"

The second drawing is of Ford unable to contain his laughter anymore, and Stan jumping to attack him, shouting, "I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD-" while it is implied off screen that Mable and Dipper are pulling him back, while shouting his name. Mable thinks its funny, while Dipper is comically concerned. End ID.]

[katsinspats]

Tragic: Guy you based your entire villain backstory on doesn't even remember you

[bluegiragi]

learning moment (part 1)

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

more explanation under the cut

I think that so far, Soap has clearly demonstrated himself to be the more emotionally intelligent one of the pair, but it doesn't mean he doesn't still get frustrated at times. He's also just an emotional guy, and is working himself up a bit. This is a difficult topic for him to want to remain calm over, and there's a lot of factors contributing to his reaction.

One big factor is that he is a werewolf and he sees things through the eyes of his human side and wolf side. The shades of grey that Ghost sees in the Mexico operation just isn't there for Soap - to him, Ghost's 'pack' was under attack and he successfully defended it (this 'pack instinct' is something he shares with Price). The fact that his wolf now considers Ghost his in some way also contributes to his upset over having to read about what happened to him in such a clinical way. Werewolves can be kind of irrationally territorial, and although Soap is used to reading reports just like this, the fact that it's concerning Ghost (in probably the most vulnerable state of his life) is raising his hackles.

It's not a fight, because at the end of the day, Soap isn't mad at Ghost, just at his circumstances. But he's basically just asserting some emotional boundaries here with Ghost (who is, for what it's worth, I'd say a bit surprised and mostly bemused here.)

[frownyalfred]

want your favorite author to update but don’t want to be too pushy in their comment section?

here’s 5 things you can do to encourage them:

Reblog their fic link on tumblr (bonus if it’s with tags)

Bookmark the fic with a note about what you’re excited about/love in the fic

Recommend the fic to your friends or local discord channel

Draw art or create other media for the fic (as indicated by the author’s comfort level)

Leave them a comment when re-reading about the parts of the chapter/story that stood out to you the second time

[notbrucewayne48]

"aphobia doesn't exist"

bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it

[courfee]

17 December 1975 / 15 May 1976