#AND APPARENTLY THE WHOLE WEBSITE CRASHED

[garlique]

me when i actually think i have a shot at a job that would work well for me 😭 i hate job hunting so much my dumb ass gets so invested into every single job and it never works out and logically i know i only have a 1/100 chance of getting this particular one but i know that's still better odds than most jobs and it already feels like things are aligning for it a little bit?? and i don't want to get my hopes up again and them get crushed because it feels like every time it happens it's like. genuinely devastating for me but i also really want to manifest this shit i feel like i'm being stretched by my arms between two giant rocks lol

[covenofagatha]

The Psychology of Love (Part 1)

The First Day

Your first class of Personality Psychology with Professor Agatha Harkness awaits

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: very light smut, slowburn, teacher x student

“Can you believe we’re graduating college in the spring?” your best friend and roommate, Wanda Maximoff, asks when you sit down at the table in the dining hall with a plate of toast and a cup of orange juice. 

You shake your head, brain still foggy with sleep, and silently curse yourself for picking the nine AM class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s the first day of your senior fall semester and you already know it’s going to be rough. You really hope this is the kind of class that has optional attendance. 

Wanda is much more of a morning person than you are, with chipper green eyes and a glow to her pale skin. She was more than happy to sign up for all early classes and you wish you had half of her energy. 

“You have Creative Writing at nine and then Gender and Sexuality Studies at ten-fifteen?” you ask. Wanda’s an English major and you sometimes wish you had gone down that route as opposed to Psychology. It’s interesting, of course, but some of the courses you’ve had to take made you want to poke your eyes out with boredom. 

She nods. “What do you have?” 

Shrugging, you pull out your phone to look at your schedule. “Personality Psych at nine,” you say. “Physiological Psych at twelve. I really hope these aren’t bad.” 

“Did you look up the professors? I did—apparently one of mine was fired for making racist comments and then rehired by the university,” Wanda scoffs and your eyes widen. “He apparently sued, it was a whole thing. So I bet that class should be fun.” 

Her sarcasm makes you chuckle and then wince. “No, fuck, I didn’t look,” you say, inwardly kicking yourself. When you had registered for classes, there were only certain times that some of them were offered so you had to work around that. You didn’t get to be picky in your senior year, when you were down to the last few classes you needed to graduate. 

You zoom in on the professor’s name for your first class on the screenshot of your schedule—Agatha Harkness. Typing it into google, you say a silent prayer that she’s an easy-A teacher. 

Clicking on the first website, your face falls when you see that she has a two-point-nine out of five rating, with the average grade being a C. Difficulty level four out of five. Attendance mandatory. You scroll through the reviews and your heart sinks lower with each one. 

Barely any homework, tests are about ninety percent of the grade. 

I made two-hundred flashcards and still failed the final exam. Professor Harkness is a total hardass. 

I didn’t wear my seatbelt while driving to class in the hopes I’d get into a car crash. 

“Jesus,” you mutter. Some of them are a little better, saying that she’s a wicked genius, and that going to office hours will help. One of them says she has some unorthodox ways of teaching psychology and that she picks favorites—but it’s effective. 

You put your phone away, not even bothering to look up any of your other professors. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. 

Wanda gets up to get some eggs and you bite into your cold toast, but you’ve lost your appetite. It’s your senior year and you can’t let your GPA tank this semester—you refuse to let that happen. If it takes going to office hours every day for the week before an exam, or buttering your professor up, you’ll fucking do it. 

“Nat and I heard about a welcome-back rager that one of the sororities is hosting tonight,” Wanda says when she comes back. Natasha is her girlfriend, one of your other best friends. You take all the credit for them getting together. Both of them had confessed that they liked the other to you so you had made a reservation for dinner for the three of you at a restaurant known for its romantic setting and then you had texted them about three minutes before to let them know that you wouldn’t be able to make it. 

Wanda didn’t come back to the dorm that night and when she had stumbled back in the next morning, her neck was covered in hickeys. 

Your nose wrinkles. “A sorority?” Not that you have anything against them, you just imagine their parties being very guy-infested. 

She laughs and rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re all invite-only and this is a queer sorority.” 

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fun then.”

“Maybe you can get some action,” Wanda smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

Snorting, you take a long sip of orange juice to delay answering. Your love life has been complicated to say the least. Your first serious relationship was in freshman year of college, when a girl who had lived across the hall from you asked you out and no one had told you that it was a bad idea to date someone who lives that close to you. She was clingy and immature and you weren’t convinced that she actually cared about you—more just the idea of you. 

And you felt more from just a few compliments from women twice your age than you did the entire time with her. 

Looking back on it now, the whole thing was a bit of a mistake but you had gotten some experience from it and thankfully you had moved dorm buildings and hadn’t seen her again since. 

There had been some hookups in the past two years—drunk calls and makeouts in the bathroom at parties—but no one had caught your eye. 

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you say evasively. It just felt like something was constantly missing. You hadn’t opened up to Wanda or Nat about it, but you secretly longed for what the two of them had with each other. “It’s tonight?” 

Wanda hums. “At nine. So Nat will come over around then and we can pregame and then head over? Can’t be too early.” 

You shake your head at how egregious it would be before laughing. Natasha plops down next to Wanda, out of breath, before kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. They giggle to each other and you push your chair back. 

“I should probably get going. I can only imagine what my professor would do if I’m late,” you say. 

One of your general psych professors taught you that there’s only one type of person who goes out of their way to do a survey or write a review: someone who feels incredibly strongly about it. For each person who wrote a bad review about Professor Harkness, there’s surely five people who did just fine in the class with no complaints. That makes you feel a little better and you smile at your friends before trekking across campus. 

Her classroom is in the Psychology building, which is possibly the furthest one from the dining hall, and by the time you get there and walk up the flight of stairs, your calves are burning and you have to make an effort to control your heavy breathing. 

But you have five minutes to spare and the room is empty, so you lean against the wall next to the door on your phone. You’re already getting notifications of assignments for this week—why do you have five things to do for one class? A ball of stress starts to coil in your stomach. 

“Nervous habit?” someone asks, and it takes you a moment to realize that they’re talking to you. You look up, surprised, and find an older woman, maybe late forties, with curly dark hair that’s tossed over her shoulders, dark blue eyes that pierce into yours, and large, black glasses resting on her nose. She’s wearing a navy dress with a black blazer and smart brown shoes. Her eyebrow is posed expectantly and you realize that you’ve been chewing on your thumb nail. 

You clear your throat and straighten up, a feeling that you can’t quite name growing inside you. “Sorry?” 

Her lips slowly stretch into a smile and you catch a whiff of her perfume—a unique blend of warm vanilla with a dark coffee and something extra that adds a little spice. “Are you here for class?” she asks. 

“Yeah, um, Personality Psych,” you answer, feeling like you’re missing out on something. She looks absolutely delighted and steps to the side of you to open the door to the classroom. The pieces slowly click into place and your mouth drops open. “You—you’re Professor Harkness?”

She smirks. “Not who you were expecting?” 

She is not who you were expecting at all. The reviews made it sound like she was a mean crone deriving pleasure from failing students left and right. Not an attractive older woman.

You swallow roughly. 

Professor Harkness tilts her head to the side and you brush past her into the classroom, muttering a “Not really,” her scent lingering in your nostrils. It’s a small room and you sit at a desk in the second row on the left side, where the lectern is. You’ve found that it’s easier to focus when you’re close to the teacher. 

More students trickle in and sit behind you or to the side of you. No one takes the desk in front of you, though, so when Professor Harkness sweeps through the aisles of chairs and stops at the front, you’re in her direct line of sight. Her eyes twinkle when they land on you and you squirm.

“Welcome to Personality Psychology,” she announces at nine on the dot. “I am Professor Agatha Harkness. I have a PhD in clinical and behavior psychology. I’m sure many of you have heard or read that this class is difficult.” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you see some people nodding and nervously chuckling. 

She slams a hand down on the surface of the lectern, making everyone jump. “They are correct. But, let me tell you something. A lot of the students that take this class think it will be easy. They hear ‘Freud’ and they think ‘Oedipus Complex’. They hear ‘biological approach’ and they think ‘nature versus nurture’. Of course we will cover that—but we will also go very deep into what each theory pertains and includes. People fail because they think there’s too much information so they give up. What’s the solution?Try.” 

You wonder if she saw the review from the person that said they made two-hundred flashcards and still failed. 

Agatha moves to the desk next to the lectern to log into the computer. Quiet chatter fills the room, people introducing themselves to each other, but you dig in your bag and pull out a notepad and a pen. Your psych teacher in high school taught you that writing down information helps your brain retain it better than typing, so you’ve grown accustomed to taking notes by hand. 

She presses a button and the screen at the front of the classroom turns on and projects the syllabus. Agatha quickly goes through it, making note of the three exams and two research presentations that are scattered throughout the semester, and someone raises their hand. 

“So we only have five grades?” he asks, a nervous tremor in his voice. You’re right there with him—it will be very hard to bring your grade back up if you do bad on a test. 

Agatha stares him down. “If you do well on each one, you won’t need more than that.” The boy stammers but she moves on, telling everyone that attendance is indeed mandatory and that she won’t be posting the slides for notes online. You inwardly groan, hoping that your fear of failure will outweigh your lack of motivation. 

When she closes the tab with the syllabus, you hear rustling behind you and you turn slightly to see a girl packing up. A quick check of your watch shows that there’s still thirty minutes left.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agatha says. “Did I dismiss the class?” 

The girl freezes before slinking back into her seat. “No, sorry, I just thought—” 

Agatha laughs humorlessly and you flinch. “Well, you are dismissed. We’ll see you on Wednesday unless you drop the class first.” The girl’s mouth drops open, eyes glassy, but she holds her head high as she walks out of the door.  

If you were her, you’re not sure you’d be able to come back. 

“Alright, let’s get into it,” Agatha says, clicking on a new tab and opening a slideshow. There’s a quiet ugh among everyone—of course she’s making you take notes on the first day. “What is personality?” 

No one moves an inch, no one says a word. 

She scoffs and stands up, perusing the room. You’re sure everyone is doing the exact same thing as you—looking anywhere but the professor. Raising your hand to your mouth and biting your fingernails, you feel her eyes on you and you reluctantly meet her gaze. 

“It’s the way you think and behave?” you offer and she smiles pleasantly. A feeling of warmth spreads through you at the validation. 

She clicks to the next slide. “Very good. The definition I want you to know is that personality is first and foremost a construct. It’s an idea that we created. It’s a person’s overall, individual pattern of behaviors, emotions and thoughts. There are five basic approaches to how we can look at personality.” 

You furiously scribble that down. You’re one of the only people who’s writing notes and she thankfully waits for you to look up before continuing. 

“We have the Trait approach, the Biological approach, the Psychoanalytical approach, the Phenomenological approach, and the Behavioral approach. I’m sure some of you are familiar with most of these, but over the semester, we’re going to really dive into how each of these approaches views personality and what they think is the basis for it. There are a lot of different ways to assess personality, some a lot more legitimate methods than others.”

Someone raises their hand and Agatha nods at them. “The Trait approach is where we look at the Big Five personality test, right?” 

Agatha sighs and clicks to the next slide. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to in an attempt to appear smart. It doesn’t work.” You stifle a laugh—she sees and winks at you and your cheeks flush. 

She continues talking a bit, giving you a bit of information about each one, before telling everyone to take out a piece of paper. 

“Draw a picture of a house and your family, whatever it looks like to you,” Agatha instructs. She sets a timer for five minutes while she walks around and glances at people’s work. 

When she gets to you, her perfume invades your nostrils as she bends over your shoulder. You can feel her hair brush your back. She hums in your ear and your stomach heats up. 

“This is an example of a projection test. You can tell a lot about a person based on how they drew the things,” she says, sitting back at her desk. “How intricate they draw the house. If it looks like the place they grew up in. Where they put themselves compared to the rest of the family. Who is even included in the family. I’m not going to collect these, but if you do want me to take a look at them so you can judge for yourself how accurate it is, stay after class. If not, then you may go and I’ll see everyone on Wednesday.” 

You’re the only person who doesn’t immediately rush out the door and you slowly make your way up to her, paper in hand. Her eyes flick to yours and she smirks, like she knew she could count on you. 

She holds out her hand and you give her your drawing. The lines on her forehead crease and she nods, analyzing it. You shift and scratch your head and resist the urge to bite your nails because of her comment earlier. 

Agatha puts the paper down on the desk, faced towards you. “The house isn’t detailed—just a square with a door and four windows and a triangle as the roof. Maybe you’re just not an artist, or maybe you never really considered any place home.” 

It feels like all the air gets sucked out of your lungs. 

“There’s space between you and these people,” she points to you and then to your mom, brother, and father, “but there’s also space between your parents. Or that’s who I’m guessing they are.” 

You nod. 

“It seems like you don’t feel very connected to them, or to your home. Maybe their home specifically?” She looks up at you, lips quirked up. “So, projective tests—total nonsense?” 

Chuckling shakily, you meet her eyes. “Total,” you joke. 

Agatha leans back in her chair and studies you. “What made you want to study psychology?” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” you say lamely, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I guess I just like knowing how people think. What about you?” 

There’s a dark glint in her eyes. “Understanding people, the way they think—” she gestures to you in agreement with your answer, “—it gives you power over them. You know how to get inside their head, you know how to get what you want.” 

The air seems to thicken around you two and her perfume makes you dizzy. “What do you want?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrow twitches up. 

“Right now, I want a coffee,” she asserts, standing up and handing you back your paper. Whatever spell, whether real or imagined on your end, is broken and Agatha smiles. “I’ll see you Wednesday?” 

The unspoken question is if you’re going to drop the class, if you’re scared off by her demeanor. You meet her gaze firmly. “I’ll see you then.” 

“Have a good rest of the day, y/n,” she says, walking past you and out the door, and you stand there, agape, realizing that you never told her your name.  ~~~

“I’m Natasha Romanoff! I’m friends with Stacy,” Nat yells over the pumping music from inside the sorority. The girl at the door nods and moves to the side to let you, Nat, and Wanda into the house. 

The lights are a deep blue and you see people in the corners doing shots and playing beer pong, there’s girls making out in the middle of the floor, guys outside in the pool. You turn to say something to your friends, but they’ve already gone off somewhere else and left you standing there alone. 

So you go and fill a cup up with beer from the keg and take in the scene, perfectly content to just be a wallflower for the night. You’re not even really sure why you came, but you had nothing else to do and now the drinks you had earlier are settling pleasantly in your stomach, making your veins buzz and your head float.

“Hey!” someone says loudly and you look to the side to find a girl with dark hair and blue eyes standing there. “You look lonely.” 

You laugh and take another sip. “My friends left me. They’re probably hooking up in a bedroom right now.” 

She leans in closer and you find yourself mirroring her. “Do you want to go look in the bedrooms and see if we can find them?” 

“What? Why would I—” She raises an eyebrow and it clicks. “Wait, are you hitting on me?” She nods and you down the rest of your drink. You’re about to apologize and walk away when you inhale and smell something. 

Vanilla, coffee, and a hint of something else. 

There’s a flicker of heat in your stomach and you reach out a hand to cup her cheek, bringing her closer to you. 

It’s her. You can’t explain it, but energy thrums under your skin and you pull her mouth to yours. The scent fills your nose and your mouth and you moan. She pushes you against the wall and you don’t even know her name but you don’t care. 

Your tongue licks into her mouth and she whimpers, hands frantically sliding down your body and around your waist. You’ve never done anything like this before, never this reckless, but there’s something about her that is driving you crazy. 

Her fingers fiddle with the button on your jean shorts before sliding in, her smell the only thing you can focus on and it hits you. 

It’s the same perfume as Agatha was wearing in class. 

You should stop because it’s so fucked up but you’re too wet now to just walk away so you wrap your arms around her to bring her closer. 

And when she slides a finger into you, in a hallway in a sorority house amidst fifty other undergraduates, your professor is all you can think about.

Part Two

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

So I’m bopping around on Reddit and just crashed into the latest Obey Me announcement.

Apparently we’re not getting any canon closure on Diavolo because we’re not getting any canon closure on anything.

The Obey Me games are officially dead and buried. We’re getting a few more bits of Nightbringer, and that’s it. The NB experience, which was soooooo hyped up prior to release, is now gone in my opinion.

They made the Nightbringer website and everything, only to have everything fall apart.

I’ve been sour towards NB for a very long time. Now I’m venomously bitter towards Solmare as a whole. I honestly think everything they’re now doing is nothing more than a cash grab.

Does this mean I’m abandoning this blog, especially since we’re apparently not getting any closure on Diavolo’s canon lore?

Absolutely not. These last couple of weeks have been emotionally challenging for me, but this has inspired me to return to creating content.

I’m going to create my own versions of OG and NB. I’m going to flesh out Diavolo’s lore myself. I hope you’ll stay with me as I do!

plus it’s Christmas time 😝

Courtney

[lewlewhamilton]

was looking for some quotes from lewis to brat-ify and stumbled upon this article/interview with serena williams from 2017, which happened to have some interesting tidbits. so, here's my thoughts on me just talking about the whole thing! disclaimer: i am a relatively new f1 fan and also supposed to be asleep right now, so perhaps take some of the things i say with a grain of salt, and feel free to correct me!

website font is atrocious, at least for this kind of format. gdocs is claiming that it's courier new, which is usually okay when it's just by itself, but just urgh. bad

serena calls lewis things like "the very best" multiple times, which imo is a bit of a stretch, at least for the time being (article was published in july 2017, and he definitely wasn't viewed as such at the time); i figure she probably just doesn't know a super big amount about the sport outside of lewis

honestly really surprised that some of lewis's...less than favorable exploits were mentioned (e.g. crashing his car and partying with models) and were then followed immediately by "for someone who wants to be the best at everything, you just have to start somewhere".

lewis and serena's banter and the article are screaming 2017 and not necessarily in a good way 💀😭 getting many a painful flashback rn

talking about how a lot of the effort they (drivers) put into being fit for the car isn't seen at all by fans is pretty interesting

didn't realize he mentioned the whole locking himself in his hotel room thing before now?? damn :( he does seem to know that it was pretty unhealthy btp, which is good! in general rn he's sorta talking about how he's like, matured and calmed down and stuff.

inspiration section: his brother (perseverance) and serena (don't dim your light or smth)

apparently he used to be insecure about his catholicism, which i thought was a bit odd at first until i remembered that the us has only had two catholic presidents (jfk and biden) and that boris johnson "came out" as catholic a couple years ago. anyways he only rlly started embracing it AFTER getting to f1, which is sorta interesting. (how many people on the 2007 grid were catholic? lemme google) (post google search: i got lazy, but the answer is that there weren't many. massa seeeems to be roman catholic, but idk how similar that is to catholic catholicism)

serena compliments lewis on his singing and asks when he's gonna release his album (real). his response is that a) he's a hyperperfectionist who takes forever to finish songs and b) he's worried that if he thinks too much about releasing it it'll take the fun out of it (fair).

[lewis] doesn't really wanna do his own clothing or vehicle lines or whatever b/c he likes collabing w/ people a lot

he was designing a motorcycle at the time apparently??? and he's done it before???? WHERE'RE THE MOTORCYCLES LEWIS???? WHERE ARE THEYYYYYYYYYY

rapid-fire question time!

HE HASN'T EATEN MEAT IN TWO YEARS ATP??? oh my god guys new lewis lore just dropped!!! (the question was chicken or fish and he said fish, so i'm guessing he doesn't count fish as meat, soooo i'm taking this to mean that he was pescatarian (diet where you eat no meat other than fish) for two years)

overall, the lewis in this interview feels like he's in a bit of a transition phase atm in terms of character development and stuff, which makes sense considering, well. *gestures*

quotes i liked/found interesting:

"And more than anything, I fear not being as great as I know I can be."

"My dad wanted me to have a better life than he had ever had. He wanted us to succeed so badly. And I never wanted to let him down."

"I manage myself. I chose this team myself. So there’s a huge satisfaction for me."

"I feel like people are expecting me to fail, therefore, I expect myself to win. Just like you—everyone knows how good you are, and they’re just waiting for you to fall."

"I’ve realized that winning isn’t everything. It’s very much about the journey ... So while winning is definitely the ultimate goal, the lessons learned when I don’t win only strengthen me."

"I hate losing. It doesn’t matter if it’s racing or playing Ping-Pong, I hate it. 'You’re either first or you’re last.'"

[born-hater-platinum]

EA really can do nothing right.

The Sims 2, the game which I had been playing since I was 9 years old, the game I have a very oddly specific talent in heavily modding, the game that had been my longest passion project and I experienced no immersion-breaking issues about, ever, is now broken.

You see, as a kid I owned all expansion packs on CD. Later I had the cracked version. No issues in either.

Since purchasing the Disaster Legacy version, the following issues have occured:

- Game crashes after a few minutes of playtime.

- Game begins showing pink soup (Y'know, the thing they allegedly """fixed""" with this version)

- Game doesn't recognise my graphics card because apparently the graphics file wasn't updated for modern software even still

- Game crashes immediately when clicking on any manual roofing button and trying to drag the tool

- Auto-roofing doesn't work because there are no sidewalls on the slanted roofing ???

- Game is not compatible with any external tool (Radiance, RPC, Scriptorium, etc.) due to its location on the drive

EA could've gone two ways about this, one involving 1 thing to do, the other involving 2 things to make this re-release work.

1. Make the OG version available again via the EA app like they've done FOR FREE like, what, 2 years ago?

2. Fix up 2 (two) things.

a. Allocate more memory to game so pink soup doesn't happen.

b. Add modern graphics cards to the graphicrules file so game recognises them by default.

That's it. That's all they needed to do. Modern PCs can carry the Sims 2 with no problem. My laptop, and I'd like to specifically stress again: a LAPTOP, can run the Sims 2 which is heavily modded, full of CC, while running Firefox and other programs in the background with an extra monitor plugged into it.

I am 200% sure this whole shtick was just so it didn't become abandonware. I am certain.

Bottomline: fuck EA. If you want to have the Sims 2, go for the cracked version. The easiest website to get it from is literally among the top results, you will find it. Don't give them a cent more. Not for this game, not for any other Sims game.

[the-amber-raven]

Snippet Sunday

It's been a while since I shared a snippet and I did also get tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove.

It's going to be more texting fic because... well look I thought it would be a quick one and therefore fine if I used it as a break from the longer WIPs but apparently it being a texting fic does not make it immune to the "everything polish_amber writes ends up way longer than expected curse" sooo we're still on Season 3 almost 7k words in.......

--

[Draft saved 19:48 �� message not sent] Hey Bobby any chance I could crash at yours for a couple of days maybe?

[Sent 8:14] Hey Cap I can’t remember if we updated my file but letting you know that I’m not living at Abby’s anymore. 

[Sent 8:21] That was fast, last time we spoke I thought you were still trying to decide.

Did you find a new place?

[Sent 8:30] Gonna crash at Chimney’s for a few days. 

[Sent 8:32] Alright. Hen and Chim both have plenty of experience managing the rental market in LA so don’t stay quiet if you need a hand finding a new place. 

[Sent 8:35] Half tempted to move back to my sharehouse tbh.

[Sent 8:38] I don’t know what tbh means but for the love of god please don’t.

At the very least there must be a website or something where you can find a place to share with one housemate.

[Sent 8:40] To be honest

[Sent 8:57] ??

I think you hit send too early.

What are you being honest about?

[Sent 9:01] 🤦‍♂️ That’s what tbh means…

–

[Sent 20:14] So FYI I’m staying with Maddie now at her new place. 

[Sent 20:41] We can update your file during tomorrow’s shift. It’s probably a good opportunity for you to see if there are any other updates you want to make.

[Sent 20:52] Like what??

[Draft saved 20:55 – message not sent] I assumed you would want your sister as your emergency contact now that she’s decided to stay in LA. Not that I mind doing it but I’ve been expecting you to change it for a while now. 

[Sent 21:19] Go through the whole form and just make sure it’s all up to date since we’re updating it anyway.

[hes-a-rat-whisperer]

"a rat, a siren and a [HYPERLINK BLOCKED]"

(deltarune AU part 2)

RP with my sweet sweetheart @surprise-sausage-party <3

Alistair eyed that suspicious sign up, holding a clawed hand out to touch it. it looked almost like a pop up.

he flinched back as the sign suddenly glitched out.

"okay so..apparently we reached a city.." he said, thinking out loud and stating the obvious. "maybe..we could find someone who knows the way back home?"

the tall rat´s ears twitched as he kept staring at the weird, floating sign. everything that happened today..it defied all logic.

"in any case..we should stay together."

____

the two monsters walked through the streets, coming face to face with one odd monster after the other and gigantic pop up-like signs literally popping up from nowhere, blinking and beeping as they advertised everything from products to websites.

Alistair´s ears were pinned back in caution, thoughts racing around in his head.

these people..this..city..it might be utterly nuts, but..it was almost as if the two of them crash landed into the internet itself..

but..that couldn´t be! that´s ridiculous! ludicrous!

..right?

"pardon me, do you know how-" but the rat man´s question got cut off as the man he attempted to speak to offered him a..shoe? on a toothpick? "uh no- I just wanted t-" another one of them popped up, holding a cup of tea that he attempted to sell him. "I dont want to buy anything! I just want to know-!"

then, there was a loud siren blaring out way too close to the british monsters, big, sensitive ears and he got more or less tackled by a floating, pink monster with a cold and an angry looking monster holding a huge syringe. "HEY!! WATCH WHERE YOU´RE-!!"

then there was beeping, loud honking of way too many cars heading their way and the realization that all this time, Alistair and Ceb were apparently on the middle of the road.

Alistair growled, grabbed Ceb´s arm and pushed through the crowd, looking for SOME place that could offer them some peace and quiet from all the traffic, salesmen and absurd virus chasings.

____

that place, turned out to be an alleyway. probably the only time where going to an alley near a dumpster was the most sensable thing to do. more sensable than standing in the middle of the road anyway..

in his rage and confusion Alistair kicked the dumpster, making the whole thing shake.

this is a dream. surely! it must be!

isn´t there a single person they could talk to who knows whats going on here and how they can return home?!

[ramblingroommate]

Part 2 of 911 episode 1x1 (part 1 here)

Okay so now that I’m sane again (lie) after finding out Ryan fucking Murphy is also behind this show and have accepted what that will probably mean for my mental state (another lie), I’m ready to get back to the episode (wariness levels are suddenly 100%)

Oh wait what? Really? I’ve been seeing this man’s face on my dashboard for the last two years and never realized he had a birthmark on his face? Well now I feel dumb lol

Wait he doesn’t run into burning buildings? Isn’t that the whole thing about being a firefighter? This might sound dumb but I’m asking because I actually found it weird when they went to save that one kid who almost drowned. Is it different in the u.s.? Because over here they would call an ambulance for strictly medical emergencies and the firefighters for fires or car crashes and things like that

I have to say the characterization that’s been established is pretty strong and interesting even from this early on! I mean… half of these characters have barely had any lines yet and I still feel like I know at least one thing about each one of them. That tracks now that I know Ryan Murphy is involved in this: his shows may have a thousand flaws but he (usually) has really strong great characters. Over the top perhaps, but great. Let’s see what we have so far:

Chimney is insecure so he lies to his girlfriend about the stuff he does at work. The fact that he met her on a dating website for people who are into people in uniforms (he’s basically her wet dream) and he still has to lie because he doesn’t feel interesting enough? That says A LOT

Hen is sassy and is always ready with a witty comeback. It may not seem like much but she has had exactly ONE line so far so… not that bad

Bobby is the easy going reliable captain who cares about the others but has a Secret Past TM. I know from the memes that the fandom calls Bobby the father of the group but twenty minutes in and he just straight up says it

Buck is the young reckless guy, he likes sleeping around and doesn’t take things as seriously as the others do. From what I’ve read over the years this apparently changes with his character development but right now that’s where we are

All of this and I’ve barely seen half the first episode! I can see why people like this show already. I’m a sucker for shows with well defined characters (and I like that a lot of their traits are coming up naturally)

A baby in a wall… is this a true story? Why does it sound familiar?

… he’s such an idiot, I love him already

I’m curious about this cop character and how they’re gonna handle her storylines. I’m saying this because I used to really really like police procedurals (castle, criminal minds, white collar, lie to me…) but then real life events turned me off them. This seems to be a show mainly about firefighters saving lives so there probably won’t be any over the top cop storylines. I’ll keep an open mind anyhow

No one kept the elevator door open, I like that sprinkle of realism.

Also I’m finding Buck’s character really interesting. First half of the first episode and he’s already been established as reckless and impulsive BUT also as responsible and careful with the baby. He is careless when he takes the fire truck out to get laid but he cares a lot when he is inside one trying to keep a newborn alive.

Yeah he definitely cares a lot but is also… naive? In a way? He got attached really quickly and needed Bobby to remind him that their job doesn’t reach beyond those doors.

I don’t know, I’ve read posts before talking about how much Buck cares about people and maybe I’m jumping ahead? It feels like that’s what they’re going for tho

Also I just realized: we’re never going to find out more about that young mother are we? We really are following the first responders point of view… after we reach the hospital it’s not our responsibility anymore.

Buck’s reaction to the mother is also really interesting because it was VERY unprofessional but also understandable in a very human way. Don’t get me wrong: he was 100% wrong and Athena was absolutely right in tearing him a new one, but he’s also young and saw something really awful. I like when characters are flawed and make bad decisions and the show can point out they are wrong while still not paint them as bad people.

Also, I like Athena. So far she’s the typical hardass cop we have seen before, but the actress portrays it really well

Well that was unexpected.

My first gay character on the gay firefighter show? Yay

Jokes aside, I didn’t expect this. The daughter reaction was pretty... unrealistic? I don't know. Going out of her way to say that she supports gay people IN GENERAL but not in this very specific case because it's their dad and there are going to be repercussions on them feels... a bit too scripted? Like... I can imagine two writers saying "make sure she says she supports gay rights and her anger has nothing to do with that or else people are gonna get mad".

She's a teenager and her parents have been fighting for days (or even weeks?) and she just found out her dad has been lying to them AND her parents are probably gonna divorce (even if they say otherwise)... it doesn't feel realistic that IN THAT MOMENT she would be going out of her way to make sure everyone knows she supports gay rights and that's not what she's angry about. That is a conversation that could have come up later on? I don't know, it also feels like I'm getting stuck on a detail that's not really important so I'll shut up now.

This feels like a more realistic reaction! She is clearly a very proud woman, so her feeling humiliated and lashing out makes sense. Also her acting is amazing.

Also this is getting wayyy too long so I'll make a third part.

[astonishinglegends]

Ep 271: Amelia Earhart – Decoy for a Spy Plane?

"Not much more than a month ago, I was on the other shore of the Pacific, looking westward. This evening, I looked eastward over the Pacific. In those fast-moving days, which have intervened, the whole width of the world has passed behind us, except this broad ocean. I shall be glad when we have the hazards of its navigation behind us."  -- Amelia Earhart, a few days before her final flight

Description:

On July 3, 1975, the Ministry of Justice in Japan responded to an inquiry by Amelia Earhart researcher and investigator Major Joe Gervais. Gervais had sent a letter to the Department of Immigration and Naturalization in Tokyo, operating on the hunch that Earhart had been taken prisoner and held on Saipan during WWII but under an assumed identity. The Ministry of Justice responded, saying the woman in their custody was known to them as Irene Craigmile. This was not a name mentioned by Gervais to the Japanese authorities. So, who is Irene Craigmile? Craigmile and Earhart were acquaintances and pilots who looked similar, but photos show they are two separate people. This begs the question for the “Japanese Capture” theory of Earhart’s disappearance: who then went down with the plane that was apparently ditched near Buka Island in Papua New Guinea? Were these two women connected via some secret mission, and is the plane at Buka a version of Earhart’s Electra 10-E? These questions and evidence are just a few of the puzzle pieces of the enduring mystery of Earhart’s fateful last flight, meticulously stitched together by William “Bill” Pennington Snavely, Jr. in his latest book, Lost in Flight: Amelia Earhart, Giving Cover as a Decoy for a Spy Plane. In 2018, Bill was a guest on our show, where he outlined his research leading to a startling theory of Earhart’s plane possibly having crashed near the coast of Matsungan Island near Buka, eventually sinking to a depth of 109 feet. Two main aspects of Bill’s investigation that remain novel are that, unlike the other researchers, he calculated his flight tracking starting from the last known location and then traced backward and that his team is the only one with an aircraft to investigate whose characteristics match the Electra. Bill’s multiple expeditions to Buka have yielded intriguing evidence supporting his claim, evidence which has previously been kept under wraps due to nondisclosure agreements. However, as his research in the intervening years continued, a new hybrid theory emerged from his discoveries that may solve the disconnect between “Japanese Capture” and the wreckage at Buka. Could it be that a failed reconnaissance mission led to one of the greatest coverups in US history? Bill Snavely is now free to disclose the shocking findings he revealed in his book. Also joining us is longtime friend and fellow podcaster Chris Williamson, whose podcast Chasing Earhart and its companion book, Rabbit Hole: The Vanishing of Amelia Earhart & Fred Noonan, is the definitive interview collection. Prepare to suit up as we dive for the truth behind one of the world’s most famous and significant aviation enigmas.

Reference Links:

CLICK HERE to purchase Lost in Flight: Amelia Earhart, Giving Cover as a Decoy for a Spy Plane, by William “Bill” Pennington Snavely, Jr. from The Paragon Agency™ and SpecialBooks.com

CLICK HERE to purchase Bill Snavely’s previous book on Earhart and the Buka discovery, Tracking Amelia Earhart: Her Flight Path to the End

SpecialBooks.com from The Paragon Agency™

CLICK HERE to purchase Chris Williamson’s book Rabbit Hole: The Vanishing of Amelia Earhart & Fred Noonan

Irene Craigmile Bolam

1987 Marshall Islands postage stamp showing Earhart’s Electra from the “Amelia Earhart Controversy” website

Astonishing Legends episode 106: Earhart’s Plane Found?

Astonishing Legends Bonus Episode: EARHART'S PLANE? UPDATE WITH BILL SNAVELY

Astonishing Legends episode 90: Chasing Amelia Earhart with Chris Williamson

Astonishing Legends episode 4: Amelia Earhart Vanishes Part 1

Astonishing Legends episode 5: Amelia Earhart Vanishes Part 2

Buka Island

Jaluit Atoll

Imperial Japanese Naval ship the Koshu

“The Ground Loop Monster” from Trent Palmer’s YouTube channel

Ground Loop on Wikipedia

The Hawaiian island of Niʻihau

“Aircraft [Lockheed 10E Electra ZK-BUT painted as ZK-AFD]” entry on the New Zealand Museum of Transport and Technology website

Lockheed Electra stock photo images from the dreamstime.com website

Boxfish Robotics website

The MV Indies Trader surf exploration vessel, which took part in Quiksilver's Crossing from 1999-2005

Martin Daly, Australian Captain, and surfer

Location:

Matsungan Island, part of the Buka Island collection in eastern Papua New Guinea. Matsungan Island is where a young boy claimed to see an airplane ditch into the sea within 100 yards of the shoreline, with its left wing on fire and the occupants trying to use their radio before the plane sank. None of his fellow islanders believed him at the time, but in 1995, a local sponge diver named Teolo and his partner found the wreck of an aircraft resembling an Electra submerged in 109 feet of ocean water and a few hundred yards from the shore.

Related Books:

CLICK HERE to purchase “Lost in Flight: Amelia Earhart, Giving Cover as a Decoy for a Spy Plane” by William Pennington Snavely, Jr. from SpecialBooks.com

CLICK HERE to purchase Bill Snavely’s previous book on Earhart and the Buka discovery, Tracking Amelia Earhart: Her Flight Path to the End

Suggested Listening:

Woo Woo with Rachel Dratch

Comedian Rachel Dratch gets a little bit Woo Woo, discussing stories of the unexplained, the eerie, and other-worldly with her funny friends in her new comedy podcast, Woo Woo with Rachel Dratch. Along with her co-host Irene Bremis, Rachel invites guests to share stories they may only tell a trusted pal who will not judge. Psychics? Spirits? Astral Projection? Check, check, and check! Sure, you may think we live in a world where there’s a logical explanation for anything out of the ordinary, but after you spend some time with Rachel and her pals, you might have your doubts, and find that… you too are WOO WOO! Join Rachel, Irene, and friends in a comedy podcast that turns the mysterious into a lively conversation among kindred spirits. Search for Woo Woo with Rachel Dratch wherever you’re listening now!

Suggested Viewing:

CLICK HERE to watch the documentary Earhart’s Electra: Eyewitness Accounts of What Happened to Amelia Earhart’s Plane by Richard Martini

Find us on YouTube!

Click this text to find all Astonishing Legends episodes and more on our Youtube Channel https://www.youtube.com/c/Astonishinglegends

Join us on Patreon!

Click HERE or go to patreon.com/astonishinglegends to become one of our Patreon members and receive exclusive offerings, like our bonus Astonishing Junk Drawer episodes (posted every weekend the main show is dark) commercial-free episodes, and more!

SPECIAL OFFERS FROM OUR SPECIAL SPONSORS:

FIND OTHER GREAT DEALS FROM OUR SHOW’S SPONSORS BY CLICKING HERE!

CREDITS:

Episode 271: Amelia Earhart – Decoy for a Spy Plane? Produced by Scott Philbrook & Forrest Burgess; Audio Editing by Sarah Vorhees Wendel of VW Sound. Music and Sound Design by Allen Carrescia. Tess Pfeifle, Producer and Lead Researcher. Ed Voccola, Technical Producer. Research Support from The Astonishing Research Corps, or "A.R.C." for short. Copyright 2023 Astonishing Legends Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

[dirtbag-linecook-kyloren]

You know how I’ve been bitching about how the aviation museum was closed so I can’t go see the plane

APPARENTLY ITS BECAUSE THEYRE MAKING A WHOLE EXHIBIT ABT THE CRASH

Summer 2024 im gonna hop up into the SULLENBERGER AVIATION MUSEUM AND LOSE MY GOD DAMN MIND HOLY SHIT

The whole websites new I’m gonna fUCKIN LOSE IT

AHHHHHHHHHH

[11-eyed-rook]

For those not in the know - the artist in question (Viktor Tsoi) was actually kind of a big deal, both during the time of the Soviet Union, as well as after its fall, and after Tsoi's death, for a number of reasons.

As for how he died - it was due to a particularly brutal car crash in 1990, apparently due to him falling asleep at the wheel and driving into the oncoming lane and crashing into a bus; the crash itself being bad enough that he was pronounced dead at the scene, his vehicle being completely destroyed as a result, in such a way that, apparently, some parts of the vehicle were never recovered; his death anniversary (August 15) is actually coming up in a few days. His death was so impactful that it's said that there were devoted fans who, upon learning of his death, ended their own lives.

As far as what he's known for the most - he co-founded a band called Kino, which many in Eastern Europe (mainly, from countries that used to be in the Soviet Union) still talk about to this day, as it's been one of the most musically influential bands in Russian music history, alongside Tsoi himself being credited as a notable pioneer of rock music in Russia as a whole.

Whilst I, myself, know very little about Tsoi and the band Kino, which, I imagine, would be shocking to many older Eastern Europeans (perhaps, blasphemous in some circles), I didn't think I'd see anything from the Soviet era on this website. I thought I'd share some stuff, but it's also easy to find online, if anybody wants to look into him and his work any further.

Viktor Tsoi (Soviet/Russian, 1962-1990) - Rock Concert (1980s)

[scribeme]

The RFK Jr. Virus

by James B. Meigs

Walk into any New Age crystal shop in Sedona, Arizona, or a hot-yoga studio in Oakland, California, or maybe a socialist bookshop in Boston, Massachusetts. Look around for the kookiest granola grandma you can find. You know the type. She’ll drive up in a battered Prius with a peeling No Nukes bumper sticker. And she’ll probably be wearing purple sneakers.

Talk to this sweet lady for five minutes and you will likely learn which planet is rising in her zodiac sign. Ask about her health and she’ll tell you about her detoxifying juice fasts and how she avoids radiation from cellphone towers. She thinks Big Pharma is a big conspiracy and that vaccines aren’t “natural.” She doesn’t trust doctors but does rely on tarot cards when making life decisions. Oh, and the aliens definitely are coming, but she hopes they’ll be “higher beings.”

It’s all cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, but mostly harmless. Now let’s turn to our new secretary of health and human services. He agrees with our hippie grandma about everything from vaccines to the dangers of cellphones. (He hasn’t gone on the record regarding tarot cards.) But where she is responsible for only a houseful of cats, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is now in charge of our country’s entire bureaucracy governing health care, pharmaceutical safety, and medical research.

What could go wrong?

It’s hard to believe (but also weirdly predictable) that this lifelong Democrat and environmental grifter became a hero to the MAGA movement. A scattergram of RFK Jr.’s beliefs would map almost precisely with the ideas embraced by the wackiest characters on Fred Armisen’s Portlandia series combined with a smattering of X-Files conspiracy theories. It’s all late-20th-century leftism meets crunchy alternative lifestyles meets anti-American paranoia.

Like a 1970s commune member, RFK Jr. drinks unpasteurized milk and thinks we should go back to preindustrial methods of farming. He doesn’t approve of fertilizer or GMO crops (not even the “golden rice” genetically modified to boost vitamin A in the diets of poor children at risk of blindness and death). In fact, Kennedy is suspicious of modern technology in general. He led the campaign to shut down the Hudson Valley’s safe and carbon-free Indian Point nuclear power plant. He thinks 5G cellular networks are a plot to control users and told Joe Rogan that Wi-Fi “opens your blood-brain barrier” to toxins.

RFK Jr. famously went to Harvard (where he apparently majored in drug dealing, according to classmate Kurt Andersen). But he seems to have received his real education—the one that stuck—at the Howard Zinn/Oliver Stone Academy. Kennedy has never met an anti-American conspiracy theory he doesn’t like. He believes the CIA killed his uncle John F. Kennedy, and that his own father, Senator Robert F. Kennedy, was also the victim of a plot (and not one conducted by the Palestinian assassin who repeatedly wrote “RFK Must Die!” in his notebooks). Did you know government planes are spraying dangerous “chemtrails” in the sky? RFK Jr. thinks DARPA is responsible. Is our government hiding crashed UFOs? Maybe. “I suppose they want to keep it secret so they can weaponize these technologies,” he mused last year. Was 9/11 an inside job? Kennedy says he “won’t take sides” on the question but ominously notes, “There’s strange things that happened.” Was Covid-19 a global conspiracy? Absolutely. Kennedy wrote a whole book about that one, The Real Anthony Fauci, which asserts that Fauci and his co-conspirator Bill Gates launched “a historic coup d’état against Western democracy.”

Kennedy is best known, of course, for his decades-long battle against vaccines. In 2005, he published a long screed in Rolling Stone (and on the Salon website) alleging that vaccines were responsible for the rise in autism diagnoses. Filled with errors and wild allegations, the piece became a journalistic scandal. Both publications eventually pulled the story. (Rather than repeat the overwhelming case against the autism claim, let me recommend Seth Mnookin’s book, The Panic Virus. Alternatively, I suggest visiting any cemetery populated before World War II and counting the number of single-digit lifespans chiseled in stone.) But RFK Jr. is oddly immune to scandal and remains unembarrassed in his anti-vaccine beliefs.

He’s getting results. Thanks partly to his efforts, vaccination rates keep falling in the United States. Childhood diseases that were nearly banished are bouncing back. A measles outbreak is currently spreading across the country, with close to 1,000 cases and three deaths so far. RFK Jr. has made one tepid statement in support of measles vaccines. But his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He soon pivoted back to telling Sean Hannity that the measles vaccine actually causes diseases, and directing the CDC to focus on alternative treatments such as vitamins.

Still, like most cranks, RFK Jr. occasionally hits on the truth. He’s right that there’s too much sugar and other junk in the American diet. And, yes, our public health authorities overreached egregiously in their pandemic policies. But far more often, our new health czar simply mixes some dollops of reality into a toxic stew of crackpot ideas and paranoid fantasies.

Kennedy’s Covid theories are typical: It’s true that the U.S. funded some gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology. And, as I’ve written too many times to count, it is a huge scandal that Fauci and others tried to cover up that history. But it’s not true that the U.S. was secretly “developing ethnically targeted bioweapons,” as Kennedy said at a New York press dinner in 2023. And it is something like a blood libel to assert that “Covid-19 is targeted to attack Caucasians and black people. The people who are most immune are Ashkenazi Jews and Chinese.” He added that he doesn’t know whether that targeting was “deliberate.” But the damage was done.

In RFK Jr.’s paranoid worldview, there is always a “they” behind the scenes. The people he calls “globalists” or the “new oligarchy” are controlling world events. They don’t want us to know the truth about 9/11. They are suppressing natural cures in order to pump us full of expensive drugs. They “must be stopped.” I don’t think I have to remind COMMENTARY’s readers who this unspecified “they” usually turns out to be once this kind of thinking takes root in a society.

Like a true conspiracy theorist, Kennedy is immovable in his conviction that he alone knows the truth; no quantity of factual evidence can change his mind. He’s done his own research! In his Fauci book, Kennedy proudly outlines his antipathy toward modern science in general. The real enemy, he writes, is “the century-old predominance of germ theory.” That’s right, folks. Our new head of HHS doesn’t believe germs are the main cause of infectious disease. It’s like learning that the new NASA administrator thinks the Earth is flat. To him, the discovery of pathogens—the most important advance in the history of medicine—is just another plot, this time to help Big Pharma push “patented pills, powders, pricks, potions, and poisons” instead of “fortifying the immune system through healthy living, clean water, and good nutrition.”

This is wacko logic of the silliest sort. But when combined with Kennedy’s conspiracy-minded vindictiveness, it can also be deadly. Trump promised he would let Kennedy “go wild on the medicines.” What will happen if RFK Jr. succeeds in bringing the pharmaceutical industry into compliance with his 18th-century view of disease? It is a sign of Trump’s solipsistic recklessness that he couldn’t care less about any of this.

It’s too soon to say just how wild Kennedy might go on our public health system. The measles outbreak keeps spreading, and avian flu is ripping through America’s farms. But our HHS secretary can barely bestir himself to focus on those problems (except to advise letting bird flu “run through the flock.”) In contrast, he showed giddy enthusiasm at a recent press conference announcing plans to remove artificial colors from breakfast cereals and other products. “We have them on the run now,” he said of the food companies.

While new and resurgent diseases circulate menacingly, our nation’s top health official is bravely manning the barricades, protecting our children from…Fruit Loops.

[drama--universe]

Masks & Truths

Requested by anonymous: Hello. I have a request, but it will be a bit long because I can't say or write anything quickly, I'm always specific: The Untamed's Request for Lan Xichen....

Pairing: Lan Xichen x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k words

A/N So... For this story I looked up a fake name and came across something very peculiar. Apparently, the name Meng means to deceive and thus Meng Yao's name was such an important clue for his real identity... So, props to the writer, although I might still be wrong since I don't talk/read Chinese and only got this from a website :/

You couldn't believe your father's words, not when he stated it like it was the most normal thing to say. Like it was normal for a father to tell his daughter that he'd disown her if she did not marry. Not only disown, but also exiled from the clan. You couldn't believe that your mother didn't refute, if anything she looked like she agreed with everything he said.

Now you didn't hate your fiancé, hating Lan Xichen was almost impossible for anyone. He was the sweetest, caring for anyone no matter who they were and he often protected those who had less than him. He was humble, did not care for possessions and rather give away his stuff than see an innocent person suffer to fate they did not deserve.

Still, you did not want to marry the man.

And so you left your home for awhile. Now you found yourself living in an inn with the Geji's (Chinese equivalent to Geisha's), working as a server like any other waitress. Your face was covered, a white mask that covered your full face with golden and red marks painted on. Your hanfu was pink and reds, a white undercoat. You looked like any other waitress, which was basically the point as it was required for safety. Although it was difficult at first, you quickly learned how to work there with help from others. You were happy here, you felt somewhat free even when you never had much free time. The woman around you, although most were older, treated you like a sister and you felt like you belonged. You got a family, one you wished you had before. You shouldn't have to find that family, you should've grown up with one and you just felt cheated in the fact that your family did not view it the same.

Then, one day, everything came crashing down at once. Why? Because Lan Xichen decided to come to the inn along with at least fifteen junior disciplines. Normally, you wouldn't care much and yet you couldn't help but be shocked at the sight before you. Bloody robes, large wounds and a few seemed at the brink of fainting. Lan Xichen seemed the most unharmed, only three or four cuts visible on his whole body. You rushed to them, helping one of the boys to sit down before turning to the elder.

"Please sit down, I will get you some help." You said and he nodded, thanking you softly before he turned to help his juniors while you rushed off to find your friend, Qi Xiang. She was a skilled healer, so she could surely help them. Once you told her what had happened, she was quick to grab her own mask before running to the front of the tea house. You followed her, placing yourself to the less hurt people and checking them while Xiang checked to more injured ones. You started with, what seemed to be, the youngest among the juniors. He had a very youthful face and a cute smile that melted your heart in second. He was helpful, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a deep cut and you hissed softly before grabbing some bandages and a needle and thread.

"I apologize for this." Then you put the needle to his skin and pushed it through, stitching the wound close as fast as you could. Then you wrapped it up in bandages, tight enough so that it wouldn't loosen too much after. Then you moved to the next junior. You ended with Xichen after an hour, but he wasn't harmed bad enough to need immediate help.

"Do you have any wounds?" You asked and Xichen shook his head before looking at the juniors surrounding him, thanking you softly. This was another time that you got to see him being caring to others, his gaze never moved from the most injured ones with a worried look. You looked at them as well before sighing, telling him that they were fine. This, however, didn't seem to make Xichen feel any better.

"May I ask your name?" "Lu Zhi." You were quick to answer him with a fake name, nodding your head at him in greeting before getting up.

"I will prepare rooms for you and your junior disciplines." You spoke, getting up and bowing at him before walking off without another word.

Xichen was up early, quick to check every room quietly to see the juniors. He walked through the hall, opening and closing each door silently until he reached the last. One of the youngest, a boy of barely 13 years old and gravely injured. When the door opened, he was surprised with seeing you besides the bed. Your back was turned to the door, your mask laid on the bedside table and you were clearly changing the younger's bandages. You were alerted of his presence when he stepped inside, one of your hands quickly grabbing your mask and securing it on your face.

"I apologize for disturbing you." Xichen's voice was soft and low, barely loud enough to hear as he entered the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at his junior while you continued to treat him.

"Will he wake up soon?" "Give or take two days. He is mostly exhausted at this point, the injuries are already healed after all." You answered, putting on the last bandage on before laying a towel on his forehead. Then you got up and started to pack up your stuff, turning to Xichen after.

"Don't bother him too much, he really needs the rest." You said and Xichen nodded, following you out of the room. He walked downstairs, sitting down at one of the tables. You fetched some tea for him, setting it down on the table before sitting down as well and pouting the tea into two cups. One was pushed towards Xichen, who gladly took it.

"You really seem to care for those kids." "They're my responsibility, of course I care. Had I known of the bandits on that path, I would not have gone there." Xichen spoke, lifting the cup before him softly before raising it to his lips. He drank it quickly, putting it back on the table afterwards and pouring himself another one. You drank your own cup empty before looking back to the man before you, who looked immensely worried as he stared into his cup.

"You really don't have to worry, those kids are strong. They'll live." You gave him a reassuring smile, forgetting that you wore a mask and he couldn't see. He, however, still seemed to sense it as he nodded, sighing softly before downing the tea once more. You took the opportunity to leave, getting up from the table and bowing your head once more before leaving.

Once again, you could only learn to appreciate the man even more and maybe even like him just a bit.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Lan Jingyi asked loudly, making all heads turn to him and pausing their eating.

"I heard that lady (L/n) is a rare beauty." Another junior answered and you almost fell while putting the tea down on the table. It landed a bit harsher than intended, which made all eyes turn to you this time. Jingyi was quick to ask you the same and you waited with your answer. You could hardly say that she was beautiful, saying such things about yourself was a bit vain. Instead, you decided to answer based on the rumors you had hear about yourself.

"I heard she rather stays in the library than spend her time dressing up for others." You answered and Jingyi huffed, raising his food up to his mouth and eating it a bit too loud. Sizhui just thanked you for the food and thoughts, giving you another bright smile.

"We'll see later, Zewu-Jun said we'd go continue there tomorrow." Although Sizhui spoke quietly, you heard everything he said clearly and it made you freeze up. You didn't know that he was on his way to see you, your parents had neglected to tell you this. Which meant that you either needed to return and play into your parents' wishes or to not return an embarrass Xichen in front of his and your people. Neither one of those options sounded nice, you didn't want either to happen. Yet now, you didn't seem to have much of a choice. So you decided to do something in between. You returned to your room and started writing, scribbling every thought and feeling that you felt leading up to this moment. Then you slipped the three paper letter under the door of his room, your mask along with it before you ventured off.

One thing you didn't take in account, was that Xichen was a night owl when it came to his work. Thus he saw and read the letter immediatley after you left it, which made it able for him to run after you. Which he did, of course. He practically leaped off the stairs and out of the building, looking around for the person that wrote that letter to him. The red hanfu you wore stood out like a sore thumb and the fact that you were the only one on the street. So he followed you, quickly reaching your side and stopping you. You flinched, mainly because you had no clue who just grabbed you. When seeing him, however, you relaxed slightly before freezing.

"I apologize." Xichen quickly released you from his grip, but he remained quiet after as he just stared at you. Then he spoke again, asking you if you were in fact his fiancée. You nodded, which in turn made the man smile slightly as he took the bag you held from your hand.

"Seems like I don't have to go any further to meet you then." He said and you sighed, realizing that you couldn't really run away anymore.

"About what you said in the letter... I'm afraid we don't have much choice in marriage, but we can wait until you feel comfortable." He then said and you frowned at this statement, asking him if he was really okay with that. He just nodded at you, giving you another reassuring smile.

"I look forward to getting to know you a bit more in that time then."

[jellycatstuffies]

forgive me if this question has an obvious answer (i'm pretty new to jellycats haha) but i was wondering, when you said the quality of the jellycats has decreased recently - what did you mean by that? as in the build and quality of the materials has reduced? also do you have any theories as to why this might be? i'm super curious if you have any theories because jellycat's whole appeal to me is the high quality! i hope the decrease in quality is temporary :(

This is a valid and important question considering recent events and I'm actually glad you asked!

First of all, I am with you in that I hope the decrease in quality is temporary because I have been a fan and lover of the brand (if you want to call me a collector fine) for years now and it would break my heart to let go of this major special interest of mine. It hurts and is making me very sad to see.

The quality has visibly reduced. The last two Jellycats I bought both had defects (one was the Splootie Puppy who I returned to the seller because he had a shedding problem and too few beans in his large body, he was losing fur without even being touched. He was also completely taken down from the Jellycat website not long after that and is presumably retired now) The other one's seams opened up after a couple of days and he needed to be repaired.

There has been a large number of quality problems ranging from seams opening up, arms and/or legs being sewn on the wrong way, literal holes in the Jellycat and changes in the fur. People have also reported problems with the eyes. The changes in the fur are most apparent in the Jellycat Bashful Bunnies. They used to have rounder faces and much longer, more "plush" fur. Now they all have more squared faces and the fur is shorter and you can see the lines where they have been sewn sometimes. Not all the bunnies are like this, but most of them. This is why I do not recommend ordering these online because it is likely you will get a defective one. Actually ordering Jellycats online is risky in all cases right now, if you can't inspect the Jellycat before buying, I would suggest you don't buy it at all.

To answer your question as to why this is happening: I think it has to do with terrible quality control by Jellycat coupled with over-production caused by the recent surge in popularity and demand. They seem to have moved on to mass-producing. The more popular a brand gets, the worse the quality (and customer service) gets apparently. The big problem is that Jellycat can get away with this because they are dominating the market. Unless enough customers complain (both direct customers and shops) and refrain from buying the products, nothing will change. I predict they will crash and burn at some point if they don't fix this mess because they simply cannot keep a company running like this.

So if you are new to Jellycats, try to find them in person and if you do order from Jellycat, please reach out and complain to them if there is anything at all wrong with your product! I have seen too many people brush off obvious flaws as "quirky" or "cute". It's not quirky or cute, it is a faulty product and you paid way too much money for it to not be perfect. They also keep raising their prices... Prices are going up and quality is going down. Please be careful when buying any Jellycats right now.

[loud-whistling-yes]

If you go onto my blog and attempt to search for the word "titan", it shows exactly one (1) post before crashing the app. It doesn't work on any other word. Just this one specific word afaik

(video is linked cause apparently you can't reblog with videos. This website is on a whole other level)

Does anyone wanna see an absolutely bizarre tumblr glitch

[smutophile]

Crime & Punishment (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: Your CEO catches you in the office late at night watching naughty videos and decides to show you just how naughty girls are punished.

Warnings: Dub con, spanking, masturbation

Word count: 3k

You sat at your desk and watched the sun start to set on another dreary New York Friday. The rest of the staff on your level had left almost over an hour ago but you had agreed to be the one to stay behind to assist the West Coast should any problems arise. The pro was getting to start work later but the obvious con was sitting alone in an office building late at night whilst the rest of your co-workers started their weekend.

It didn't bother you so much. You lived alone - you worked alone. You were used to being alone. The night shift in the office was quiet. California very rarely ever called you with problems at this time of night. It was peaceful. You’d do what you always do when you had quiet time. You pulled out your phone and escaped into your fantasy world that would always stay just that - a fantasy.

You read your dirty stories, your smut. You looked around to make sure you really were alone. Nobody wandered down to your level at this time of night. You hadn’t seen your boss in weeks - he only showed up when something was wrong so the less you saw of him the better. Although - he wasn’t so hard on the eyes. Steve Rogers - CEO. Young for a CEO but such a babe. Strong muscular build with a beard that just screams daddy. It was no wonder when you read your stories, the dark mysterious man always morphed into a familiar face in your mind. The things you would love that man to do to you.

Lost in your daydream you kept scrolling, not paying attention to the world around you. Lost in your own fantasies. You failed to notice footsteps approaching your desk. Failed to notice the figure looming behind you. Watching as you scrolled through videos of naughty schoolgirls having their bottoms turned a nice shade of pink.

“You know - watching porn on work time is punishable by immediate termination”

The boding voice made you jump out of your seat, your phone falling out of your hands and straight to Mr Rogers’ feet.

“I didnt..I wasn’t...i’m sorry” You stuttered...desperately trying to grab the phone from the ground and stop the video that was playing. It was too late. Your boss had the phone in his hands and could see all too well what you had been doing.

“Are you going to try to tell me this was an accident? You just stumbled across this website and accidentally watched this video?” He spoke so smoothly with a smirk adorning his face.

You were silent. What could you say? You had just been caught red handed by the very person you had been fantasizing about.

He turned your phone off and placed it on the desk next to you. You kept your eyes down and twisted your fingers in your hands. You stared at the ground and prayed that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. This was the most humiliating moment of your life. It couldn't get any worse.

“I could fire you…” He paused. Another smirk lining his face. “Or we could come up with another punishment to fit the crime”

“Anything...please. I need this job” Your voice was shaky. But you were confident. If he was willing to give you another chance you would take it.

“Oh sweetheart, you shouldn't go making deals with the devil. You are bound to get burnt”

He closed the gap between you and lifted your chin to meet his eyes.

“Bend over the desk”

You hesitated. Had you heard him correctly? He couldn't be serious. You searched his eyes to see if he was joking.

“Or you can pack your things and leave and never return. Which will it be?”

He crossed his arms. His face was hard to read. This man was strong and intimidating but this was coercion. Was he really capable of this?

The fear was evident in your body language but deep down there was a part of you that was secretly excited by the prospect of what was to come.

You moved slowly but efficiently. You laid your body over the desk and stretched your arms out in front of you. You could no longer see Steve but you could feel him. He ran his fingers down your spine. Your body was scared - the hairs on your arms standing up. But your mind - your mind was racing with all the possibilities of what was about to happen.

Steve placed his hands at the base of your skirt and lifted it slowly to reveal your white cotton panties. Your cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Of course you hadn't thought to put on sexy lacy underwear. Nobody would see them. He rolled the skirt all the way up to your waist and left it there with your ass on display.

“Hmmmm - what to do with you?” He questioned. You’d never heard him so satisfied. You only ever heard him barking orders or demanding answers. This was a completely different voice. A voice which quite literally sent shivers down your spine.

“Have you ever been spanked before?” You could hear him rolling up the sleeves on his dress shirt. Running his fingers over your underwear.

“No” You shook your head. You had imagined it in your head over and over again but you could never voice your fantasies out loud.

He quickly pulled your ponytail sharply - snapping your head up off the desk.

“No - what?” He spoke forcibly. Now your body was terrified. Your legs shaking and sweat started forming on your forehead.

“No...sir?” You phrased it as more of a question than a statement. Not sure exactly what he was looking for but desperate to please him.

He released your hair and gently pushed your face back down onto the desk. Apparently that was the right answer.

“I think ten smacks with my hand will be a good start. You don’t need to count”

He walked around to the side to give himself the room that he needed. Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you were almost certain he could hear it.

The first smack took you by surprise. A lard thud on your right butt cheek. The surprise of the hit shocked you more than the pain did. It wasn't so bad. You could take 10 of these. Especially with your underwear on to protect you. You were at least grateful for that small mercy.

He didn't wait very long for the next smack. This one hurt a little more. You let out the breath you had been holding but still didn't speak a word. You tried hard to keep your mouth closed throughout the next few hits but the pain was increasing. His delicate hands crashing down on your ass in quick succession alternating from left to right. You could feel tears filling in your eyes. From pain or humiliation you weren't sure.

At about smack number 5 you let out your first yelp. What you thought would come out as a cry of pain sounded more like a moan of pleasure. The spanking hurt and Steve was not holding back. He barely waited between each hit and showed no sign of slowing down. You were not enjoying this. You couldn't. This was supposed to hurt but you felt your body betraying you. Or was your mind betraying your body?

At smack number 10 you finally let the tears spill over from your eyes but still keeping your mouth closed. It quivered but you wouldn't dare speak or let him hear you. You could feel him rub his hand over your bottom in a surprising show of kindness. He gently ran his hand up your back and flicked the hair out of your face and to one side.

“That's a good girl. Take a deep breath for me now” His words were like music to your ears. You had no idea how much you wanted to please him. How much you wanted him to be happy with you. You followed his instructions and took a big gulp of air. You kept your body laying over the desk - too scared to move or do anything that could upset him.

“You did so well for your first time. Lets see if you liked what I did to you”

Your tears were almost gone now. Your shock and fear were replaced by a whole new range of emotions. Excitement...lust.

He dipped his fingers into your panties and dragged them down to your feet. He helped you lift up to your feet one by one and placed the panties in his pocket. He kicked your feet apart and forced your body to spread itself on display.

“Oh my - you certainly did enjoy your spanking”

You buried your face into the desk and curled your fingers in embarrassment. You wanted to tell yourself you didn't enjoy what he was doing to you. The pain was intense but you couldn't hide the juices leaking out of your pussy and graciously down your thighs. You were beyond wet. You were dripping.

Steve ran a finger through your slit and the moan that escaped your lips could not be controlled. He held his glistening fingers up to the light and inspected your arousal.

Your body was on fire. The spanking had left your behind burning but your pussy was throbbing. Your clit felt electric and you tried desperately to get the much needed friction on it to give you a spark.

Steve could see you rubbing your cunt against the desk desperately like a dog on heat. You were past the point of caring now. Humiliation had taken a back seat now and the driver was your absolute need to orgasm. There was no other thought - you had never needed to get off more than at this very moment.

Steve dipped his fingers back to your slit and ran them up towards your clit eliciting yet another guttural moan from your lips. His touch felt like a live wire had just been connected to your pussy and you were being electrocuted.

He removed his finger after just a brush against your clit and watched you try desperately for more. More friction...more anything. You needed more.

“Get up on the desk. On your hands and knees” He ordered. That was the voice you were used to. The one that always got what he wanted. Nobody questioned him when he demanded something and this wasn’t a question. It was an order. Who were you to disobey?

You complied instantaneously. Keeping your head forward and lifting your body up onto the table on full display for Steve to see. He pushed your shoulders down so that you were on your elbows but still keeping your ass in the air. Your body shivered in anticipation.

You could still feel the heat on your ass from your spanking. It felt as though welts might appear in the shape of his hand prints. That thought got you even more excited. A temporary reminder of what had happened tonight. That this was real.

Steve placed an object in your hand. It was small - cylindrical shaped. Almost like a tube of lipstick. Except - he flicked a switch on the object and you instantly knew what this was. The vibrations ran all down your arm. It was tiny but powerful. A bullet vibrator. He had this in his pocket? You’d have to come back to that thought later. Right now all you knew is that you were naked from the waist down, horny as fuck and you had a vibrator in your hands.

“I want to see you cum” He stated matter of factly. How you wished you could see his face right now. But then again, your boss is looking at your ass and pussy on full display right now. Maybe not being able to look him in the eyes is a good thing.

You took the bullet in your hand and slipped it straight down to your clit. The sensation made you jolt immediately and almost threw you off balance. Steve was still there, his hands on your hips instantaneously to steady you. You got back to work and placed the vibrator back on that sensitive bundle of nerves. It wouldn’t take long for you to get off like this. It would be embarrassingly quick.

SMACK. You heard the smack before you felt the familiar burn of the hit on your ass.

“Ow...fuck” You were not prepared for that. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy for you. Your hand holding the vibrator had slipped back onto the desk to steady yourself from the new onslaught.

“Put that back on your clit now” His voice was low but menacing. Your need to please him...to obey him was back. Your body quickly following his command before your brain could even comprehend what you were doing.

The sting from his hit had faded slightly but the burn remained. The fire was spreading to your cunt and whilst the spanking had put a small delay in your orgasm, it still wouldn't take long. The fight between pain and pleasure in your mind was confusing but pleasure was winning. It always would.

“9 more smacks and then you can cum. Don’t you dare cum before i’ve hit you 10 times” That made things a little more complicated. His voice was threatening. You couldn’t let him down. Not now.

You placed the bullet back on your clit and your body shook with excitement. You were more prepared for the next hit but you were not prepared for the reaction your body would have to the pain. As if on cue, you could feel that familiar sensation in your body. Your orgasm was quickly building. The next two hits came in quick succession. Your legs started to quiver. Your head started to shake back and forth. No no no no. It was happening too fast.

He kept spanking, switching between each butt cheek and alternating where he hit. You barely noticed the pain - instead focusing on how many slaps were landing on your sore behind.

“Please...PLEASE…” You were begging. Desperately. That was the only word you could say right now. Unable to form sentences. Your brain was unable to function right now as your pussy was in charge and nothing else in the world mattered. The sensation had moved from your belly down to your clit and was going to explode any second now. You counted. Nine...Ten...and then - nothing. You were floating...as if there was nothing around you. No desk...no office...just darkness. And then as if you had fallen straight back to earth - your orgasm ripped into you. The feeling took over you as if you had been hit by a freight train. Your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm and your pussy clenched in on itself as it rode out the shockwaves with the rest of your body.

You dropped the bullet onto the desk and curled yourself into a ball. Your body still shaking from the aftershock of the most intense orgasm you had ever had in your life. Your breathing was staggered...almost to the point of hyperventilating. ‘As your senses slowly started coming back to you, you could feel Steve’s hands rubbing your ass. Smoothing away the pain.

The reality of what you had just done was starting to sink in. An overwhelming sense of dread taking over your body. Your body was now choosing between fight and flight and running away seemed like the best option right now. You snapped your head up to look at the culprit behind these feelings and your body followed quickly after. You stood up off the desk and peeled your skirt back down to give yourself a tiny bit of dignity back.

You slammed your laptop shut and slid it straight into your bag. You grabbed your phone and handbag and swung around to get out of here as quickly as possible.

“Hey hey hey...wait…” His voice was calm, soothing almost. His arms out as they tried to stop you from your escape. Trying to placate you and reason with you. You were beyond reasoning right now.

The tears were back and you could feel a sob building in the back of your throat.

“I can’t….I have to go” You managed to squeak out without sobbing. You started to head for the elevator before his hands were on you again.

“Please...just stop. Let’s talk about this” He was always the voice of reason. A smart business man like him...he knew how to get his way.

“No...i just...I have to go” Your quivering lip giving away your emotion that you were trying to keep bubbled inside of you. You swerved from his grasp and pressed the button on the elevator. He kept his distance from you sensing your fear. You got in and pressed the button for the lobby and kept your head down. Not able to look at him. You didn't want to see his face. His pity. You just needed to get out.

Your trip home was a blur. Somehow you put one foot in front of the other and found yourself in your apartment. Alone. Confused. Angry. A shower would wash away the shame that was enveloping your body. You stripped away your clothes only vaguely registering the fact that you were still missing your underwear.

Once the steam had started to rise from the shower indicating that the water was indeed scolding hot - you slowly placed your head under the spray and let the cascade wash away your tears. You ran your hands through your hair and ran it down your body until they landed on your butt. There was that reminder. That physical painful reminder of the shameful slutty act you had done. The guilt washed over you like a slap in the face.

You allowed yourself to be spanked...by your boss and you masturbated yourself to a mind blowing orgasm...in front of your boss. You consented to this. When you allowed yourself time to think about the severity of what you had done you realized with absolute certainty that you had enjoyed it. You loved it. You craved it. It was everything you had ever wanted and more.

After an eternity, you left the sanctum of your shower and dressed in your pajamas. You grabbed your phone and switched it back on. Nobody would be looking for you. There would be no messages. Except there was. A few missed calls and a text. From an unknown number.

Please let me know that you got home ok.

Your fingers hovered over the phone. Before you could reply a calendar invite popped up.

Meeting. 8pm. Monday night. Steve Rogers office.

Accept or Decline?