#Grooming Set

[sweetbeasblog]

Grooming Set for Men

[shakingparadigm]

horrendously sick and twisted btw

[brettdoesdiscourse]

While I generally do believe in the idea of separating a creator from their creation, I don't feel like you can really do that with Dan Schneider/Nickelodeon shows because of how interconnected the creators and the creations are.

The young cast of these shows went through so much abuse, mistreatment, and sexualization from people involved including the producer/writer himself.

There's a ton of sexualization and fetish content in the shows, sexualization and fetish content of children.

I don't hold any judgment for people who still find comfort from these shows, whether it be due to a hyperfixation or something else. But I do feel it's important to, at the very least, acknowledge how the shows were influenced by the creators being predators. And I would encourage everyone to try to boycott at least any shows that Dan Schneider worked on.

[whirlpool-blogs]

NHL notebook: USA Hockey's Jack Hughes expected No. 1 pick in NHL draft

Published: Dec 5, 2018

PLYMOUTH, Mich. — Jack Hughes draws a crowd.

Detroit general manager Ken Holland and former Red Wing star Steve Yzerman chatted during the first intermission of one of Hughes' recent games. Scouts from the NHL were scattered throughout USA Hockey Arena that night, taking notes for teams paying them to evaluate the world's best hockey players.

Hughes, a 17-year-old center, will likely be the top pick in the NHL draft in June.

USA Hockey has developed the nation's top players for more than two-plus decades and four of them have been selected No. 1 overall — including Auston Matthews and Patrick Kane — from its National Team Development Program. Hughes is expected to be next.

"He's as good as I've seen come through here in terms of talent, work ethic and being the complete package on and off the ice," said senior director of operations Scott Monaghan, who has been with the program since its inception in 1996. "He's more like Patrick because of his skating and shiftiness than Auston, who was really big and strong.

"We have 30 to 40 scouts at most of our home games and as many as 60 because Jack is on a team with as many as six, seven or eight first-round picks."

Hughes chose to surround himself with the best American hockey players his age as an amateur instead of getting paid as the No. 1 pick in the Ontario Hockey League. He also could have graduated high school a year early to play with his brother, Quinn, a freshman at Michigan and a defenseman drafted No. 7 overall last summer by the Vancouver Canucks.

"I feel like it's the best place to be for a 16-year, 17-year-old," Hughes told The Associated Press. "No one trains as hard as us. We skate every day. We lift three days a week. We play a great schedule. I think it's the best place to be to groom yourself to be an NHL player someday."

Hughes was born in Orlando, Florida, where his father, Jim, was assistant coach for the Solar Bears in the International Hockey League. He wasn't there long. Jim Hughes moved his family a few months later to Boston because he got a job as an assistant with the Bruins. Two years later, the former Providence defenseman went to New Hampshire — where he, his wife and three boys vacation each summer — to be an assistant and later head coach with the Manchester Monarchs in the American Hockey League.

Jim Hughes' next job appears to have been pivotal in the development of his sons' hockey careers because it landed him in Toronto as an assistant with the AHL's Marlies. He later became director of player development for the Maple Leafs.

"I always played him a year up and that's not easy to do in the hockey mecca of the world," Jim Hughes said. "Even when he was 5, you could see he had a special skill set. As he got older, coaches were yelling at their players to hit him and teams were trying to attack him. And quite frankly, he was still dominant."

While Jim Hughes was often busy with his job when the boys were growing up, Ellen Hughes taught her sons how to skate. She drew on her experience from playing for the U.S. women's national hockey team and at New Hampshire, where she was also on the soccer team.

"When Jack would go outside to play, older boys would always pick him even though he was at least two years younger than the rest of them and he always wanted the puck," Ellen Hughes recalled. "We never had to push him. It was always organic and Toronto was just the best place for him to prepare him for what he's doing now."

Jack Hughes starts his day at 6:15 a.m. with two eggs on a bagel with cream cheese and salami along with some fresh fruit, orange juice and a vitamin. He has to arrive at school shortly after 7 a.m. and if he's tardy or misses a class, USA Hockey has a staff member who knows it and there are consequences.

"There's no sleeping in," Jack Hughes said. "They'll sit you for a period if you're late or skip a class, or if you're late for the bus."

Hughes, who plans to graduate this month, takes four classes before heading to USA Hockey Arena in suburban Detroit to drill on a shooting pad, lift weights and go through an intense, two-hour practice before going to study table. His favorite meal is his father's grilled steak. Shortly after dinner, his parents don't have a hard time getting him to go sleep.

"If you don't go to bed early, this place will eat you alive," Jim Hughes said.

The 5-foot-10, 168-pound Hughes feasts on the competition wherever he goes, playing U.S.-based colleges against players much older and bigger than him, as well as in the United States Hockey League and international competition.

With 16 points in just four games, he was tournament MVP at the under-18 Five Nations tournament in the Czech Republic last month. He had 116 points in 60 games last year and he is averaging about two points a game this season, putting him on pace to set the NTDP career record for points. Hughes skates effortlessly in any direction and has soft hands, allowing him to dangle to puck to set up a shot for a teammate or himself.

"Jack Hughes is the leading candidate to be the No. 1 pick at this point and scouts are out evaluating him as often as possible," Holland said. "He's an incredibly talented player, who is destined to have a fabulous NHL career."

[number1spongebobfan]

Look, as much as I love iCarly and Drake & Josh and most of the other teenage nickelodeon shows from my childhood, I am aware the director's a creep. I'm sorry the kids had to go through this and I'll be praying for them.

[hubr1s69]

baked groom is going well! i can start placing cards tomorrow, already baked them today but i might need to readjust or add more depending on how it goes

[unnonexistence]

it's true that hermann's clothing aesthetic is mostly something along the lines of "dorky professor," but i think it's really more like 80% dorky professor, 20% military surplus. (that 20% is probably all ppdc gear, but the Aesthetic™ of the ppdc gear is milsurp).

like, hermann's a practical guy. he cares more about the function of his clothes than the appearance (see: glasses cord, oversized parka). he's also been working for the ppdc since he was in his mid-20s. you can't tell me he doesn't own, like, fleece quarter-zip tops in neutral colours and too-big "one size fits all" sweatpants with "P.P.D.C." stamped on the side.

[mermaidslabyrinth]

Something Sunday

Thank you so much @emilykaldwen , @queen--kenobi , and @alicent-archive I do enjoy getting these. They help me with my writing. I have been working on this chapter for the last three days. I still have the last half to finish. Here's one little piece that's the least...uncomfortable(?).

“Now,” Daemon dropped his hand. He took a step back and gave Rhagerys's outfit a once over. “you need gloves.” He went over to Rhagerys's wardrobe and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. Two crimson leather gloves. He went back to his son. “Lift your hands up.” Rhagerys did as he was told. He quickly lifted his hands up for his father. At this point he was eager to please. “Take this one.” Daemon handed the left glove to Rhagerys. He then pulled the right glove onto Rhagerys's hand. He gave it a little tug to make sure it was on tight. “Here.” Daemon held out his hand as Rhagerys gave him the other glove. He pulled that glove onto Rhagerys's left hand. He gave that one a tug as well. “Now,” Daemon took a step back to admire how Rhagerys looked after he had dressed him in the outfit of his choosing. “are you ready to go ride our dragons?” “Yes, Kepa. But,” Rhagerys looked his father up and down. “You need to change into your riding clothes.” Daemon chuckled and patted Rhagerys's face. “And I shall. You go to Starsong and wait for me. Since you have a little further to travel.” Rhagerys agreed to that statement. When Rhagerys had moved to Dragonstone his first firm declaration to his father was that Starsong would not be living in the caves of the Dragonmont. For twelve years Starsong had grown in Pentos living as freely as she wanted. Rhagerys was determined to make sure he kept it that way for her. To let her come and go as she pleased. So Rhagerys was going to stand by his decision for Starsong. She was his dragon. He did not like the idea of her being shoved away in a dark cave to sit and wait for him to decide that he wanted to ride her. He had his reasons for such a firm stance. First, and most importantly to Rhagerys, Starsong did not care for the caves. When she went down there one time, within their first week of being on Dragonstone, she called and roared in, what Rhagerys would argue, despair. Rhagerys could feel her agony, her sadness, her confusion within his heart. During that night when she called out, Rhagerys had a restless night as well. He couldn’t sleep and his body hurt. His heart hurt. He could feel Starong’s plea to him, to never lock her away. Rhagerys knew after that night just how truly strong his bond was with Starsong. He knew that Starsong needed the fresh air, the sun shining down on her to bask in, the crispness of the night air as the stars twinkled above her. She needed to be able to know that she had freedom. Rhagerys felt that Starsong loved him in her dragon way, just as he loved her in his human way. So, he would always make sure her comfort and happiness came even before his own. Another more simple reason was because, deep down, Rhagerys also did not fully care for the dragonkeepers. There was something that he could not fully decide on what it was but he knew he would never trust them to take care of Starsong nor to leave her with them. They could never understand Starsong like he did. “Rhagerys?” Rhagerys was brought back from his thoughts. He hummed in acknowledgment to his father. Daemon directed Rhagerys towards the door. “Off you go. When you see me in the sky on Caraxes, you will know to follow.”

Well, that's the only part I can show from what I've been working on the past three days. I'm still working on it so this isn't the final draft, a few pieces could change.

These are absolutely no pressure tags: @yoursweetheartsrevenge , @blankfairy , @zeciex. Plus anyone else that wants to.

[coldflasher]

still thinking about my post from the other day about eobard making barry the flash about a decade earlier, when he's still a teenager, so he'd be easier to manipulate. and then obviously i started thinking about where len would be in this scenario because i'm unwell and i have permanent leonard snart brainrot :)

assuming barry's 13 in this AU and we're sticking with the same age gap, len would be around 30... so then i started thinking about how different the dynamic would be, with a lonely barry who's being increasingly isolated by eobard, right in the thick of the most tumultous time in his relationship with joe, because he's always sneaking off and coming back all busted up and lying his head off and acting all cagey and exploding with temper every five minutes---except while joe thinks he's just a traumatized kid acting out and having a hard time at school, really he's off every night being "trained" by eobard and then being pitted against fully grown adult metas... though i do think i'd make at least some of them the same age as barry if only because imagine the ANGST of barry getting his powers, thinking he finally has one up on his bullies, and then the other kids at school start turning into metas as well.

i'm thinking specifically of tony woodward—all the pain and frustration and humiliation that twenty-five-year-old barry felt facing up against his childhood bully, now with powers... imagine that, except he's still at school, still stuck in the thick of it with this kid who's made his life hell, except now his bully has superpowers, and so any fantasies barry might have had about kicking his ass now he's the flash and is more powerful than any of the kids at school could imagine? well, forget it, because tony's STILL bigger and stronger than him and now he's now kicking barry's ass outside of school too

anyway i'm getting sidetracked. my point is i was thinking about moody teenage barry and an older len who's faced up against the flash, thinking there's a new player in town, only to discover that the flash is some scrawny punk kid with no one in his corner, and all the adults in his life are failing him, ESPECIALLY this creep eobard thawne who's "mentoring" him. len takes a very dim view of anyone who's getting a kid mixed up in the criminal world, considering his own father did it to him, AND he's just getting skeevy vibes off eobard anyway because he's an adult and better equipped to see through eobard's manipulations, unlike barry, who's doing the infuriating teenage thing of thinking he's sooo mature for his age and knows what he's doing and is not gonna listen to anyone who's trying to warn him that this whole thing is super sketchy and he's falling victim to a predator, but unfortunately he's not gonna realize it until he's a decade or so older and his frontal lobe develops---

and so we have this (platonic bc barry's like 13/14, though barry probably has a lil unrequited crush) coldflash dynamic with them kinda being friends bc len's somehow inadvertently ended up a mentor/support system for this fucked up, scrappy, little meta kid because god knows no one else is looking out for him, and anyway here's a small snippet of what my brain's doing (unedited but whatever we're just having fun and god knows i can't start another insane sprawling AU right now as much as i've been violently chewing on this idea all day, soooo)

Barry picked at the splintered wood on the table. “Eobard makes me feel kinda weird sometimes.”

Len watched him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Weird how?”

Barry shrugged his birdlike shoulders.

For a moment, Len focused on the map laid out in front of him, considering his next move. When it came to locks, carefully getting them to open up was his specialty. When it came to people, not so much.

He decided to be blunt. “He touch you?”

Barry’s mouth popped open, outrage and disgust mingling together. “No!” he protested, his voice cracking a little. Immediately, his mouth snapped shut, jaw jutting out mulishly, and he glared at Len. “Not like that.”

Len scrutinized him. He was pretty satisfied it was an honest answer. The kid wasn’t a bad liar, given time to prepare, but he sucked at improv; put him on the spot and he crumbled in seconds.

“He’s just… intense, that’s all. About my powers.”

Somehow Len doubted that was all he was intense about. Clearly something about this Eobard creep was making the kid’s spidey senses tingle, and probably for good reason. Len knew his type—there were plenty like him in prison, doing time for their proclivities. And plenty more on the outside who were better at hiding it. Just because the guy hadn’t put his hands on the kid so far didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it.

“You thought about talking to someone?” Len asked. “An adult?”

Barry gave him a withering look like only a teenager could, then looked him insolently up and down, like he was missing something very obvious. Len gave him a similarly derisive look right back, one with over a decade of extra power behind it, just to show him how it was done. “I meant an authority figure.”

“You mean like a shrink?” Barry scoffed—which was pretty similar to what Len’s response would have been if anyone had made that suggestion to him. “Pretty sure Joe’s insurance wouldn’t cover another one. And we’d have to go out of state. I’ve seen every shrink in the city and they all think I’m crazy.”

“Your Dad, then.” Not that Len believed a guy who murdered his wife was exactly a stellar role model, and clearly Henry Allen was no stranger to manipulation himself, to have the kid so staunchly convinced he hadn’t done it when it had happened right in front of him—but having a father in prison had its perks. Len’s own father wasn’t exactly father of the year, but even he’d have called in a few favours from Iron Heights if he caught wind of some creep sniffing around his kid, if only on principle.

“I’m not allowed to see him,” Barry muttered.

The dark look in his eye told Len that there was little use in suggesting he told Joe. Clearly, they still weren’t getting along.

[calvin-pascal]

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the rolling hills of Auvergne. The Pascal farm, with its fields of wheat swaying in the breeze, the soft clucking of chickens, and the occasional lowing of cattle, was a place of serene beauty. The stone cottage, nestled by a pond where frogs croaked lazily, stood as a testament to the family's hard work. Calvin Pascal leaned against the weathered stone wall, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sky met the earth in a seamless blend of colors.

At sixteen, Calvin was tall and strong, with the kind of hands that bore the calluses of years spent tending to the land. His father, Edward, had always said the farm was in his blood, and Calvin believed it. The rhythm of life here, the cycle of seasons, the connection to the earth—it all felt right. Yet, as he watched the sun dip lower, there was something new stirring within him, a restlessness he couldn’t quite name.

It started the day Lucy arrived. She was hired to help with the farmwork, someone to lighten the load for his mother, Anne, and give Elodie more time for her studies. Lucy was in her early twenties, with long, chestnut hair that caught the light just so, and green eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. Freckles dotted her nose, and when she smiled, Calvin felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sun.

He had been in the barn, pitching hay, when she first arrived. The door creaked open, and there she was, standing in a shaft of sunlight like something out of a dream. Calvin froze, the pitchfork slipping from his hand, and Lucy laughed—a sound like the tinkling of bells.

“You must be Calvin,” she said, her voice smooth and light. “Or should I call you CJ?”

No one had ever called him CJ before. He wasn’t sure where she had picked it up, but the nickname made his heart race. It felt personal, like a secret just between them.

From that day on, she called him CJ every chance she got, always with a playful smile that sent his thoughts spiraling. They spent hours together in the fields, side by side as they planted and harvested, their hands brushing now and then, sending jolts of electricity through him. Sometimes, he would catch her looking at him, her green eyes bright with something he couldn’t quite place, and he wondered if she felt it too—that unspoken connection, that pull.

At night, lying in his small room under the eaves, Calvin would replay their conversations, dissecting every word, every glance. He knew it was foolish, this crush of his. Lucy was older, more experienced, and undoubtedly had men far more interesting than a farm boy like him vying for her attention. But he couldn’t help it. She was everything he had never known he wanted, and she seemed to see him—really see him—in a way that made him feel more alive than ever before.

One evening, as they walked back to the cottage together, the sky ablaze with the colors of sunset, Lucy bumped her shoulder against his.

“You’re a good man, CJ,” she said softly, her voice laced with something that sounded almost tender. “You know that, right?”

Calvin felt his heart stutter in his chest. “I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, suddenly shy under her gaze. He liked that. A man, not a boy. 

She stopped walking and turned to face him, her eyes searching his. “I do.”

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them standing there in the fading light. Calvin opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he just stood there, caught in the intensity of her gaze, feeling like the earth might shift beneath him at any second.

Lucy smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made his breath catch. “Good night, CJ,” she whispered, and with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, the warmth of her presence lingering long after she was gone.

As Calvin watched her disappear into the cottage, a new thought took root in his mind, tentative but insistent: Maybe, just maybe, she felt it too.

[ginaketchum]

He told me fascinating stories, we laughed alot. I think this photo captures him so well and is my favorite of working with him. Heaven is full of talented amazing souls so I’m sure he fits right in…

[infinityvalkariel]

✧・°・。・°・。・ glow up. - 2024.12.23

[kismetconstellations]

Amongst the myriad ways the Voltron: Legendary Defender writers failed spectacularly, is the unintentionally humorous example of Shiro's supposed future husband, "Curtis", having more chemistry with Acxa, in the form of an actual conversation he initiates with the intention of learning personal information about her.

"What about you, Acxa? Did you have pets where you're from?"

"I never had a creature companion. But, one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal cat named Kova.

That cat gave her the ability to experience the world."

"Oh. That's... 'great'."

This is more than he has with Shiro in the entire thirteen episode season, wherein their interactions are limited exclusively to shouting impersonal commands at each other in the heat of battle.

[mzcain27]

Anakin could have a What If series by himself like

- what if Qui Gon had trained him

- what if he still turned but beat Obi Wan and didn’t get dismembered and burnt to shit

- the obvious what if he didn’t turn and was around to raise Luke and Leia

- what if he’d left the order with Ahsoka

- what if he’d turned but Ahsoka and/or Obi Wan had been able to bring him back

- what if he’d convinced Obi Wan and Padme to turn with him

- what if he’d raised Luke and Leia as Sith?

[mongeese]

I saw a few people after the FHJY finale talking about how the season failed because of the limitations to d&d mechanics. And that takes on a whole different tone for me after having played d&d because like, it simply isn't true that the only possible conflict resolution d&d offers is killing. Literally the first encounter my party had in a pre-written official WoTC campaign, we were strongly encouraged to barter our way out, not use violence. If you have a good DM, you can get out of most encounters with sentient creatures without killing them. I would argue instead that it is a failure of specifically the dimension 20 format; as much as I adore the battle sets, they do create a necessity to resolve conflicts through violence. Which means in a season like junior year, where the supposed theme was the corruptive nature of rage and how inflicting your will on others through violence is bad, there's an inherent conflict, because there has to be battle scenes which involve the bad kids inflicting their will on others through violence. And who knows, maybe Brennan would have actually had the rat grinders join the bad kids fighting Porter on that battle set if the intrepid heroes had tried that route, but idk. Fig tried really hard to reach Ruben and sure, she went about it in a totally batshit way, but it didn't lead literally anywhere at all. I think Brennan (& the whole cast, to a lesser extent) just fucked up with this one, tbh. Like they just didn't think about the implications of the rat grinders as villains or about how the PCs violent rage toward them would completely undermine any thematic coherency. It was just a bad season conclusion :// but anyway you can do nonviolent conflict resolution in d&d it's like normal. Live your roleplaying dreams

[atouchofireland]

Manifesting the good vibes for separating Aaron Taylor Johnson and his groomer wife. This man was AT LEAST 17 and groomed by this woman, with a daughter not much younger than him. She’s kept him from taking roles to make him the star he deserves to be.

Fuck Sam the groomer and May Aaron get a fair custody agreement that lets him see his kids but keep away from his groomer.