#I had no idea that there was an official.... no-gag order?
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(A has a sudden wave of nausea)
A: Bucket.
B: On it.
This was so very random to get. Why the hell not.
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"Bucket?" Bella asked, hand darting for the bin on the ground near her foot, while she curled up with Luke on the living room of their place. He was leaning back on the couch, an arm thrown over his face and shielding his eyes, the other one draped over his middle so his hand could cradle his upset stomach.
His belly was letting out a weird string of gurgles and whines, churning up all the old food they had cleaned out of the fridge that evening. Why he had thought it was a good idea to eat the stuff Bella specifically said was just about to expire, was beyond her.
"No," he groaned, a burp rushing past his lips and causing him to wince, curling up his leg in order to put some pressure on his belly, "it feels so gross..."
"I wonder why," Bella rolled her eyes, resting her head on his knee since she was sitting on the ground and sorting through her vinyl collection so they could place it on the shelves lining their fireplace, "pepto is not helping at all, uh?"
"Its making my burps taste like strawberries," he scoffed, causing her to let out an amused smile. Bella lifted up her We Are Not Alone LP from Breaking Benjamin. It displayed the same cover as the CD, since it was a bootleg version of it, never having been officially out in vinyl format.
"What do you think of this one?" She asked and Luke let out a long suffering sigh, moving his arm from his eyes just so he could squint at the cover and let out a scoff.
"Absolutely not, I'm not having that creepy man on our living room day and night," he grumbled, then groaned as his stomach let out another gurgle, lunch churning and flipping around. He curled up forward, planting his elbows on his knees and letting out a loose, wet belch.
"Aw, it's not that creepy," Bella pouted, lowering her LP and staring at the cover. It featured a bald, desaturated man with both hands clutching his face and shielding his eyes in agony.
"Bell?"
"Yes?" She turned to look at him, eyebrows jumping up as she noticed how clammy he had gotten. He had a curled up fist pressed firmly to his lips, whole body shuddering as he fought the urge to gag.
"Bucket."
"On it!"
#jumping on Lis' mini fic kick#bc my bigger fics are not flowing as well as i wanted#mywriting#sickfic#lucas atwood#nausea#emeto#upset stomach
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His wrecker
The wreckers are well known on Cybertron for the bots who will do the missions that no one else wants to do and can get them done. They are always the ones who are sent out and are okay with doing the jobs for the sake of Cybertron and all life on it. Soon, a new member unlike the rest of the wreckers will join the team, but she will be a wrecker.
Y/n " ......." You have reached the wrecker base, the place you will call home for a while, and the team you will work with.
Y/N " I pray to the all-spark that everything will go well." You are entirely nervous about meeting your new team and hoping to gain their approval as you were smaller than most of them and didn't look much like a wrecker.
Bulkhead "Oh, hello there."
Y/n "Hello, I hope I haven't disturbed you and the other wrecker at this hour."
Bulkhead "Oh no, you haven't. Are you one of the delivery droppers from home? We have even been told we will be getting some shipments."
Y/n "No, I'm the new addition to your team orders, but the higher-ups from home thought a new member would be good."
Bulkhead: "A newbie will come inside, and we can meet the rest of the team." You nodded your head and followed Bulkhead inside the building.
Bulkhead "Hey, wheel jack meet our new team member."
Wheel Jack " A new team member. I didn't know we were getting a rookie."
Bulkhead " Hey, everyone we have a new member today."
Wheel Jack" So you see are a newbie to the team?."
Y/n " Yes, the name is Y/n. I might not look much at it, but I hope I can be worthy of the team."
Bulkhead " I like her."
Seaspray " So, where is the new member of the team?"
Wheel jack " Well, our new member is a femme something new around here, and a bit short as well."
Seaspray " So you are the new member under my watch."
Y/N " Yes, I'm the higher-ups. They thought it would be a good idea, and they sent me here. I have all the data here on this pad." You handed over the data pad to Sea Spray, who looked over it and was soon back at you.
Seaspray "Well, it seems like it is official. She is a part of our team starting today."
Wheel Jack "So what shall she be a medic, scout, or a fighter because none of the enemies will see her as dangerous?"
Y/n " I have many skills if you care to know, and my size is good enough."
Wheel Jack" Why don't you show us some of that talent, shortie?"
Bulkhead " Jackie, be nice we have been own this"
Y/n: " I don't mind showing off my talent to prove myself." You soon brought out your weapon and soon fired off some blaster rays, as the gags hit the targets around the room. Each one of the rays had hit the target on the mark, as you soon looked at wheel jack.
Wheel jack " It seems like you have proven me wrong after all shortie."
Y/n " I'm happy I have been able to that."
Road duster " Hey the new femme on here will br very interesting."
Sea spray " Yes and maybe I will have less of you block of brains tow worry about, as seeing this young femme has some sense to herself."
Bulkhead " Really sea spray you have to do us like that in front of y/n."
Sea spray " Yes and I have enough moments to help use a proof to show y/n if she wishing to see, how her team mates act like."
Y/n " I'm good sir I think I shall give my team members the benefit of doubt, at moment." The team of wreckers seem to relax as they had escaped, getting embarrassed in front of you.
Wheel jack " Sir if it okay can I have y/n as my partner on some missions, and to show the ropes around here?"
Sea spray " Wow Jackie it seems like your emotions and view on y/n has changed dramatically, well maybe I should allow it if she okay with it."
Y/n " I'm okay with it sir."
Sea spray " Then it allowed now come on everyone let's get on with our day." Wheel jack had given you a tour of the base, and of his ship as well. It still shock you a bit that he had asked you to be his parter, on missions or tasks but you had a feeling it will be good after all.
Wheel jack " well these shall be your quarters on base, it a good size so you will have enough room to storage anything"
Y/n " Thank you for the tour and showing me to my room as well."
Wheel jack " You are welcome partner I hope we can do great job, as seeing I don't work that much with others but maybe times are changing."
Y/n " Yes that's seem to be very true and just for you to know, I will always have you and the team backs."
Wheel jack " That good to hear partner well I shall leave you to get settled, wrecker and we will see what comes for us" You smile as wheel jack soon walked away leaving you to unpack and get settled in, but this day will start the whole relationship between you and wheel jack. As you had become his wrecker over time as he had become yours as well.
#transfomers#transformers#transformers fanfiction#transformers prime#transformers animated#transformers one#transfromers#transformers x y/n#transformers x reader#wheel jack
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Sex Assistant {Thomas x Teresa x Reader Smut} Part 4
When you turn in the group and go months without being their toy, Teresa and Thomas make up for lost time.
1,331 words
Submissive reader, vaginal sex, choking, degrading, blow job, anal with strap on, spanking, panty stuffing, hair pulling kink
I hadn't felt completely good about it exactly. Betraying them. It wasn't something I would do in normal circumstances.
These weren't normal circumstances though. Our world is dying with a disease. We have to fix it, no matter the cost.
Everyone thought differently. Thomas and Teresa thought differently as they kidnapped me, even having the idea to gag me so I wouldn't scream for help.
I knew better though. They like how I look with something in my mouth. And I saw the way he fingered her while they looked at me, his hands down her pants in the back.
They hate what I did. Maybe they even hate me.
But they love what I can do. When they promised to ‘take good care’ of me, it was clear they wouldn't just be making sure I didn't escape.
They were left alone to ‘watch me’. I had been put in a room with them, the door locked. I wasn't allowed to sneak off after all.
“We missed our little sex assistant.”
It was exactly the voice she used to use what seemed like forever ago, when they fucked me so good it hurt.
“I’m sure you did,”I deadpanned.
“I wouldn't start getting an attitude when you know what's about to happen,”Thomas tsked as Teresa climbed on top of me, pinning my hands by my head.
“You still want it, don't you? You still want us to fuck you?”She whispered.
“Of course you think that. You always were so full of yourselves.”
“That isn't what I asked, is it? Answer the damn question.”
“Yes. I do still want you to fuck me. I want you to know I’m so good that you’ll take me no matter what I do,”I taunted.
“She’s still our whore,”Teresa confirmed, her grip on my wrists tightening as she straddled my chest. I heard Thomas unzip his jeans before his clothes rustled.
“Make sure she stays still. Fuck toys don't deserve to move,”He ordered.
“Already on it,”She promised.
And on it she was.
Thomas climbed on the bed as Teresa moved closer, sitting on my tits, blocking my view of him. Laying my head back, I just figured I should start enjoying it.
He slammed into me, grabbing my waist as hard as he could. A whimper left me as he pulled out and pushed in again, wrapping my legs around his waist as he fucked me, not bothering to let me adjust. Tears were already filling my eyes as I stretched around him, something I had been so long without.
“Toys don't cry. Shut up, and take his dick. Now,”Teresa ordered, covering my mouth to muffle my soft whimpers. Closing my eyes, I felt my body shaking as he sped up, his thrusts getting harsher each time. My sounds got louder despite her palm covering my face, a mix of pain and pleasure taking over.
“I said shut up,”She repeated, wrapping her hands around my throat. Taking shallow, pathetic breaths, I gasped for air as I was already being ruined.
My pussy clenched around Thomas as he twitched, a feeling of deep shame. Teresa’s grip tightened, making me wheeze as I squirmed. Yet the knot in my stomach got worse the tighter she squeezed.
Slamming into me again, Thomas finished inside of me. Slapping her hand back over my mouth, as Teresa officially cut off my oxygen I came.
Letting go of me, she pulled my hair as Thomas got off the bed. With her other hand grabbing my wrists, she forced me to the floor on my knees, ignoring my whimpers at the pain.
“Shut up. We just found out you like it,”Thomas snapped, grabbing my hair even tighter, opening my mouth with his fingers before forcing his dick inside. Moaning, I bobbed my head up and down, looking at his harsh eyes as he fucked my throat. I missed this. God, I missed this.
Grabbing the back of my head, Teresa forced my face to his stomach, making my gag. Grunting, he thrust his hips into me as he twitched in my mouth. Gagging louder, spit dribbled down my chin as I looked up at him, watching him throw his head back. Covering Teresa’s hand, they both made me stay still as he shot his seed down my throat, his white liquids feeling thicker than ever.
Grabbing my hair, Teresa pulled my face off before forcing my back on the floor. Standing up, she tugged her pants off, her panties going with them. Removing the rest of her clothes, she sighed before climbing on top of me, spreading her legs over my chest. As she rolled up her panties, she didn't give me a chance to ask what she was doing before shoving them in my mouth, gagging me.
“Take her on the floor, Tom. Take the little slut. She’d be fucked anywhere. As long as she gets to cum. Right?”She groaned, pinning me down and looking me in my eyes. Hers were dark, full of lust and frustration.
When I nodded my head, she repeated her words before getting off of me. Spreading my legs, Thomas forced my back up before slamming into my wet cunt. Letting out muffled sounds, I closed my eyes as he fucked me, his hands gripping my ass. Feeling myself tighten around him, I squirmed, my back arching. Allowing me to do so, he increased his pace, twitching inside of me again. Throwing my head back, I whimpered as the fabric of Teresa’s panties made sure to keep my mouth open, making it sore. I swear she had gotten herself off in these already as I could taste her juices on them.
Slamming into me so hard my brain malfunctioned for a second, I closed my eyes as I came. Filling me up, he didn't pull out until I was overflowing with him.
Picking me up, he bent me over the bed before harshly smacking my ass. Dropping my head in the mattress, I gripped the sheets as he repeated the action on the other cheek, making me silently sob. Hearing him rub his hands together, my body tensed up in anticipation before he smacked me harder than he ever has, making my shoulders shake as I cried harder.
When it happened again, I knew, even through the numb pain, that it was Teresa. I know both of them. I know them so much. Too much maybe.
Reaching under my face, she ripped the panties from my mouth before holding her hands on my back. Lining a strap up with my ass, she didn't bother to say anything as she slammed into my other hole, stretching me out. I knew it was coming eventually, but I didn't think it would happen so early.
My legs already shook as she harshly thrusted in and out, grabbing my waist so tightly I could feel the handprints forming. Whimpering, my hold on the sheets loosened as my body threatened to go limp with pain and pleasure.
You’re our whore. You got that? You're good for nothing but being fucked,”She whispered in my ear. Not having the energy to respond, I weakly nodded as I started dripping down my legs. With weak sounds leaving me, I closed my eyes as I came, the puddle forming at my feet. Groaning, I reached for the blankets to keep myself standing upright, clawing at it.
“She already can't take it. She’s been away from it for too long. Way too long,”Thomas sighed.
“That's alright. There’ll still be plenty of time in the morning. Absolutely plenty.”
“Yeah. For now, let's just try and get her cleaned off,”He suggested.
“Yeah. Let's do that.”
I don't think they’ll be able to as my eyes were glued shut, breathing already evening out.
Fuck, it’s been too long. Way, way too long.
Tomorrow morning’s going to be absolutely amazing though. That will be the actual long thing.
#thomas x teresa x reader#smut#tmr#the maze runner#tmr smut#rough smut#part 4/4#thomas x reader#teresa x reader#smut requests#smut oneshot
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I'm so interesting!, I like to know more about
Lihua o(〃^▽^〃)o
Omg 😆 I’m glad you found Lihua Interesting!!!
Here’s some lore/info on Lihua!!!
Lihua's name means Pear Blossom. I thought it would be a nice gag since people in the fandom associate Macaque with plums or mangos, and Wukong is already associated with peaches. I was like, yeah! Let me associate her with a fruit (Pears).

Nezha was the first person to kidnap Lihua. Initially, he was sent to kill her by the Jade Emperor. As JE noticed a source of chaos just appeared out of nowhere (The moment when Macaque and Lihua stepped out of the underworld). Nezha thought he would fight a monster, but when he saw the source was from a baby. He didn’t want to anymore, but he didn’t want to disobey an order, so he just took the baby with him to the celestial realm. Wukong and Macaque went to get her back. They struck a deal and walked out with Lihua. A part of the deal was to have her wear golden bands around her neck, arms and legs. They kinda act like the Circlet Wukong had but they were made to suppress her power. [This took place when Wukong had convinced Macaque to return to FFM.]
She has no idea why she has them on and she accepted it just being there.



I love the idea of Macaque and PIF being sworn siblings so much that it’s a thing here. So it does mean that Red Son and Lihua know each other before the time the show takes place.
PIF wasn’t sure to believe Macaque when he said Lihua wasn’t Wukong’s daughter.
Red Son and Lihua get along well, since she was so young when she met him. She sits and listen while Red Son yaps away.


Before officially meeting Mk, Lihua spied on him until she felt she knew enough about him to know he’s a good person. Then she just casually walked into Pigsy’s restaurant to order food and played it off that she didn’t know anything about MK and the rest of the Monkie Kid gang. They all asked about her since she was a Monkey like Monkey King. (I think everyone except MK and Wukong didn’t know of Macaque yet until the shadow play episode. Not Sure). Pigsy was wary of Lihua at first.




If there anything particular you wanted to know just ask 😄 I would to answer 😁!
#lmk macaque#lmk oc#lmk oc art#lmk shadowpeach#lego monkie kid#lmk sun wukong#lmk#lmk mei#lmk mk#lmk pigsy#lmk tang#lmk pif#lmk red son#lihualore#lihua content
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The Weight of a Broken Trust
The hum of the lawnmower used to be a comforting sound, the rhythm of my small business, a symbol of independence I'd fought hard to build. Anthony, with his easy smile and willingness to get his hands dirty, had been a welcome addition. He started as a casual hand, helping with the day-to-day grind, and it felt natural, almost like we were building something together. As my business grew, and with the support I needed through my NDIS plan, the idea of him becoming my official support worker seemed like a logical step. He already knew my routines, understood the nuances of my needs, and I trusted him. That, I would soon discover, was a trust he would systematically dismantle.
The first crack in my world, the one that splintered everything I knew, came on a sweltering afternoon. We were finishing a particularly tough job, sweat stinging our eyes, when Anthony’s demeanor shifted. The easygoing helper vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stranger. He looked at me, a smirk playing on his lips, and the words he uttered were like a physical blow: "Suck my dick, or I quit." My mind reeled. This wasn't the Anthony I knew. This wasn't a request; it was a demand, an ultimatum laced with a venom I'd never seen. Fear, sharp and immediate, seized me. The thought of losing him, of having to scramble for new support, of my business faltering, was overwhelming. In that moment of panic and vulnerability, I did as I was told. The act itself was a blur of shame and disgust, but the aftermath, the feeling of utter violation, settled deep within my bones. From that moment, my life, the one I had so carefully constructed, began to unravel.
The tears came in torrents that night, a silent scream against the injustice. But the crying didn't make it stop; it only seemed to fuel Anthony’s perverse control. The next degradation arrived swiftly, a chilling prelude to the horrors to come. He ordered me to lick his boots clean. The metallic taste of dust and grime, the abject humiliation of it, was a bitter lesson in my new reality. This wasn't about help or support; it was about power, about breaking me down, piece by agonizing piece.
Then came the bucket. He would position it beneath him, his eyes fixed on mine, as he relieved himself, demanding that I hold it steady. And then, the ultimate grotesque command: to scoop out his feces with a spoon. The stench, the sight, the utter depravity of it, turned my stomach. Each scoop was a chip away at my humanity, a further erosion of my will. He would watch me, a cruel amusement in his gaze, as I performed this vile ritual, each moment a testament to his twisted dominance.
After that, the atrocities escalated with terrifying speed and inventiveness. One day, he held me down, forcing my mouth open, and defecated directly into my throat. "Open up, here it comes!" he'd jeer, his laughter echoing in the small room as his turds fell into my gaping mouth. The horror was complete, a total annihilation of dignity. I choked, gagged, the taste of bile and feces overwhelming, but he held me firm, forcing me to swallow. The physical pain was immense, but the psychological torment was far greater.
My body became his playground for torture. He’d beat me, whip me, his blows landing with brutal efficiency if I didn't meet his ever-increasing demands. The pain was sharp, agonizing, leaving my skin raw and bruised, but it was the humiliation, the absolute powerlessness, that truly broke me. I was trapped, a prisoner in my own home, a slave to his depraved whims.
Then came the sexual assaults. He started raping me, violating my body in ways I never imagined. There was a part of me, a small, foolish part, that had found him "cute" in the beginning, a fleeting thought dismissed long before any of this began. But "cute" had no place in this nightmare. I never wanted to have sex with him. Every act was a forced invasion, a brutal assertion of his ownership over me. I would lie there, eyes closed, tears streaming down my face, praying for it to end, for some escape from the living hell he had created.
The depravity knew no bounds. He would urinate down my throat, the warm, salty liquid burning its way down, his laughter ringing in my ears, a cruel symphony to my suffering. He’d flick cigarette ash into my open mouth, watching me choke and gag, his amusement palpable. Each act, no matter how small or large, was designed to degrade, to control, to remind me that I was nothing more than his plaything.
My once-thriving business, my carefully constructed life, lay in ruins, much like my spirit. The comfort of the lawnmower's hum was replaced by the terrifying silence of his presence. The trust I had placed in him, the belief that he would support me, had been twisted into a weapon he wielded with terrifying precision. I was a shell of my former self, haunted by the taste of ash and urine, the memory of his laughter, and the constant fear of what fresh horror he would inflict next. The only sound louder than my own muffled cries was the echo of my shattered life, a constant reminder of how far it had gone, and how utterly alone I was.
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hello! two things
first, ive been hearing that the show was greenlit many months ago and its confusing me? rolin from the way he spoke at comic con and interviews sounded like they had to rush the teaser and have literally nothing written down yet, just ideas and a lot of talking about music. which makes the official announcement legit. of course just in case rolin was already brainstorming as i said. but if they had months i guess now it is the right time to say "hey actually...", you know? season 2 was renewed so early because eventually they explained it was supposed to be one season, but amc told him "make two actually" and they had to rewrite for more episodes (so thats why assad could do the santiago monologue for his audition). and then they told us afterwards. so why dont tell us now they knew a long time ago? it would be the right time. but in the last interview rolin literally said "this is all bullshit (they were talking about what will happen in season 3) because we havent wrote down ANYTHING yet". so i guess they never lied about the show not being greenlit yet... i mean i cant see it, in months they should already have a full on trailer, not a teaser that rolin said was even rushed. its a confusing piece of information...? i guess when they will start shooting in fall it will include the documentary parts, the ones we saw in the teaser felt more like experimenting with season 3 vibes, "a sort of sneek into a POTENTIAL season 3", quoting rolin. and till then they will do all the music and write scripts and do the auditions. if not, it doesnt make sense. with months available they had the chance to do much more...?
second, (more lighthearted), considering this taylor swift situation (sorry im not a swift listener but i heard there is a feud sort of with lestat? lol?) he didnt have to say justin bieber in that teaser... he had to say TAYLOR SWIFT in hindsight (oh, if rolin knew). just imagine... just imagine. i would love a playful feud between fiction and reality. totally fantastic, in the lines of that vulture article. also like the boys' vought international youtube channel and people in the comments going with it. it would have been mindblowingly hilarious.
Hey!
So I think the season was indeed greenlit for months (I know others knew about it), but they were under gag order, because the focus was on the second season, and they didn't want to take away from it. And, given history, the announcement would have overshadowed it. I think it was a good move.
But in order to have music DONE, and a teaser video?! They have been on this for months. I also think they have been casting, and doing chemistry tests and so on in the meantime. That takes time.
I do believe Rolin when he says he has nothing "written" yet - remembering Sam saying they had only two(!) scripts ready when they started shooting season one, it means that Rolin has a LOT in his head that he then churns out.
As per Justin Bieber... I believe that is a play on an article that happened ages ago, where someone confused Anne Rice with Anne Frank, and Justin Bieber visiting the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. I remember that throwing some waves ... back then (cannot believe the site is still up).
But yeah, I think "The Vampire Lestat" will - maybe has already - breached pop culture beyond fiction... if they really release a double album with music that hits like the first single???? We're in for a ride, baby :))))
#Anonymous#ask nalyra#iwtv s3#iwtv#amc iwtv#interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire s3#rockstar lestat#lestat de lioncourt#justin bieber
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Dadbastian Week: Setting Sun
"Poetry you're a week late" I know, I had midterms this week and i was cooked alive. But I'm better now and I have this thing to make up for the fact that I skipped an entire day. My official (a week overdue) sendoff to Dadbastain Week 2023!
A huge thank you to @dadbastianweek2023 for organizing such a cool event and for all the participants who might be some of the most talented creators I've ever seen! Also thank you to everyone who helped my indecisive ass pick a name for the dog.
My Baby, My Baby
Escape had been impossible.
Sebastian did not often make a habit of avoiding his young master, but he had to do what had to be done to maintain some semblance of peace. Then again, one of his (former) favorite things had always been his stubborn determination.
And all it took was cornering him in the foyer and ordering him to sit down to render him completely helpless. Now it was just him, Ciel, and the 14 page hand-written essay entitled “why we should get a dog”.
The essay was, as the title implied, an itemized list of every reason he could think for why the manor needed a dog.
Number one: A dog would offer an added layer of protection.
Number four: Dogs were very good for hunting.
Number fifteen: Ciel could not leave his dirty dishes in his study anymore since chocolate would make the dog sick.
Number twenty-eight: A dog would gladly eat anything that fell on the floor.
Number fifty-one: Ciel would allegedly never ever ever ask Sebastian for his assistance on a major purchase ever again.
Sebastian had scoffed at that one, realizing how serious Ciel must be to acknowledge his own lack of control over his pocket money so openly. Usually Sebastian’s status as the keeper of Ciel’s check book was something that the two of them did not discuss. After all, his young master was not a fan of acknowledging his own age and there was a little bit more dignity in pretending that Sebastian was put in charge of the Phantomhive finances by choice.
Regardless of pride, Ciel was still a child. And as a child, he needed Sebastian to sign off any and all money.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your… dedication.” Sebastian had to cut Ciel off once they reached the part that the young earl had written entirely in broken German as a way to prove that his dedication to his studies would remain unchanged. “But could you not just order me to sign off on this?”
The idea of having a dog in the house made him want to gag, but Ciel’s German was simply where he had to draw the line.
Ciel looked up from his paper, eyeing Sebastian as if he had said something unequivocally stupid. “Of course not, you would just buy the dog and then get rid of it immediately afterwards. Or you would make sure the dog is of poor health so that it wouldn’t last long anyways.” His gaze was steely and serious, a stark juxtaposition to the very childish conversation at hand. “I need you completely and fully on board.”
Sebastian sighed, cursing his consistency and communication skills for making his movements so predictable. “Then may we continue this discussion as I do the housework? I fear I can’t stay seated through- how many more are there?”
“Ninety-four.” Ciel didn’t even look back down at his paper. Which was somewhat terrifying.
“... Walk and talk.” He stood up from the chair(he did not understand why humans felt the need to sit for so long).
Ciel perked up (“Like a dog” is how Sebastian’s brain finished that sentence, which made him frown) and followed behind him as he carried on with his day.
Number sixty-six: Ciel would never complain again.
Laughable.
Number seventy-five: Ciel would never bother Sebastian again.
Again, hilarious.
Number eighty-three: A portion written and performed entirely in broken latin to further show his commitment, which was somehow worse than the German portion had been.
That one was… long.
Number ninety: Please.
Ok, now this was getting to Sebastian.
Number ninety-
“Okay, stop!” Sebastian couldn’t take it. He couldn’t handle the… pleading and the voice and the any of it. Especially not now as he juggled pots and pans in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the mess Mey Rin had left behind in the wake of “preparing lunch” while Ciel ate said lunch in the kitchen with him, speaking even louder so that he might be heard over the sound of metal clinking together.
Ciel looked up, hopeful. As if he had been planning to induce a headache the entire time. “So you are in agreement?”
Sebastian bit his lip. This was psychological warfare and he was losing, goddamnit. His eyes settled on the box of eggs, still left out on the counter despite the fact that lunch had not needed eggs for its preparation at all. He smiled coyly before picking one up and handing it to the young master.
Ciel took it, confused. “What’s this for?”
“That,” Sebastian said pointedly. “Is to show me you understand the responsibility of looking after something too stupid to look after itself.”
It was meant to be a jab at him, but Ciel didn’t react. Instead, he held the egg gentler, staring at it as if it was made of gold. “How long do I have?”
“Until sundown.” Sebastian turned his attention back to the chores, relishing in how much quieter the kitchen had gotten.
“And if I give this egg back to you unharmed, you will approve the purchase of a dog without complaint?” He raised an eyebrow, like he was trying to unpack the ways in which this could blow up in his face.
“Mhm.” Sebastian was only half listening as he put the rest of the eggs away and began scrubbing the dishes.
Ciel stared at the egg suspiciously now. “And this isn’t a trick? I have your word that you-”
“Would you like me to change my mind?” Sebastian interrupted, the seriousness in his voice enough to make the boy shake his head and run off to provide a life for his practice pet. Sebastian sighed, eyeing a clock on the wall. He had bought himself at least six hours, plenty of time for Ciel to either break the egg or lose interest in the activity entirely.
While the idea of either cleaning the remnants of a broken egg or tracking down a rotten one weeks later did not appeal to him in the slightest, anything was better than having to deal with a dog.
In short, he had won.
---
He had expected Ciel to get bored after an hour or so. Either that or break the egg and give up on the whole ordeal. So naturally when the bell in the basement tripped, alerting Sebastian that he was needed in the study, he had thought peace was on the horizon.
What he did not expect was to see the young master seated at his desk, the egg sitting on a plush velveteen pillow.
The egg had its own space on the desk, not too close to the edge and not too far from Ciel in case of an emergency. Ciel himself stared Sebastian down, his list of what appeared to be dog names completely abandoned the moment the door opened.
“Do you need something, my lord?” Sebastian asked after an abnormally long bout of silence.
“No.” He said shortly, still staring at Sebastian intently.
The demon blinked. “... You rang?”
“I did not ring.” Ciel said, still staring. “You must be hearing things.”
“... I see.” Sebastian wondered if behavior like this would warrant regular appointments with a shrink. His boy was staring at him and had an egg on a pillow. Even he found this disturbing and pondered on exactly what kind of monster he had created.
Ciel cleared his throat as the silence persisted. “The egg is well.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he understood what this was; An official declaration of war. “I see that.”
Ciel continued to stare. “It has a pillow.”
“I am aware.” Sebastian’s cold glare turned to the egg as he pondered ways to turn the tides in his favor. Clearly he had underestimated Ciel’s resolve. Maybe during tea, he could-
“I order you not to touch the egg in any capacity.” He had to be able to read minds. He had to somehow be in Sebastian’s head.
That little bastard.
Sebastian pursed his lips together in a tight, displeased line. “As you wish, my lord.”
Ciel nodded, his gaze a perfect mirror image of the cruel glare Sebastian had become so well known for. “You are dismissed.”
---
It had been Sebastian’s idea for Bard to offer to take Ciel hunting. Partially incentivized by an advance on the cook’s Christmas bonus.
“I’ll take ’im out without the bribe,” Bard laughed, a cigarette tucked between his teeth. “Jus’ not sure why you don’t want to come along.”
Because that was part of the appeal. A hunting trip with Bard (the significantly more fun chaperone) where Ciel was allowed to use the good guns that they kept in the cellar (which he was normally not allowed access to). A level of reckless, irresponsible fun that no teenage boy could refuse.
Evident by the way that he nearly jumped out of his seat, banding his knee against his desk (it did not knock the egg from its perch, sadly) before regaining his composure.
“I suppose, if it will pass the time.” He said passively, trying to rub his injured knee without anyone noticing.
It wasn’t until he looked back down at his desk that the boy seemed to realize why the offer had been made in the first place; The egg could not be left unattended.
He looked up at Sebastian in malice, who only smiled sweetly back. His master was not stupid. Surely he would see this hunting trip as a once in a lifetime offer and wisely abandon this silly egg game for more entertaining pursuits. Triumph at last.
All three men in the room stood in a triangle, each staring at the egg as it sat innocently on its pillow; Ciel in contemplation, Sebastian in cruel victory, and Bard in… confusion. Which made sense, seeing as no one had let him in on the egg deal.
A light bulb may as well have popped up above Ciel’s head as he grabbed the egg off of its pillow. “I shall return shortly.”
The boy bolted out of the room, leaving Sebastian standing there with a displeased glare.
“... Was that an egg?” Bard asked, but received no response from Sebastian as the demon butler glared at the door, waiting for his master’s return. “Why does he have an egg?”
Ciel returned only a few minutes later, a small bag used for carrying dice tied onto one of his belt loops with a secureness that only could have been achieved by Finny. So the boys were in cahoots… lovely.
“Ready when you are.” He announced with a triumphant grin.
Sebastian grumbled. Foiled once more.
---
“Dogs cannot sit at the table` At this point in the day, Sebastian was getting petty. But the hunting trip had not even broken the damned thing, and the only other option he could think of was having Mey Rin shoot the god forsaken thing off of its pillow (something she was disturbingly excited to try). So yes, he was taking some of those frustrations out on Ciel and the egg.
Ciel looked up from his dinner, which he had not yet gotten the chance to take a bite out of. “That wasn’t part of the deal!” He argued.
Sebastian shrugged. “It would prove your dedication.”
He was either going to put the egg on the ground and accidentally step on it, forget it, or finally give up. He had to. Sebastian had no other ideas for how to get rid of this thing (unless he took Mey Rin up on her offer, that is). His migraine worsened as he imagined the sound of barking joining in with the other annoyances of his day to day life.
He needed Ciel to either fuck up or give up.
Ciel glared, taking the egg (still on that stupid pillow) in his hand. Sebastian swore he heard angels singing as Ciel did so, assuming that his plan had worked. But then Ciel picked up his plate as well, and Sebastian watched in annoyance as he took both items over to the wall and sat down.
His stubbornness knew no bounds.
“I will not fetch anything from the table for you if you are going to behave this way.” Sebastian said, standing firmly by the table as Ciel settled himself comfortably on the floor.
Ciel placed the egg on the ground and his plate in his lap, taking a bite. “I don’t require anything anyways.”
Sebastian eyed the full glass of water still sitting on the table. “Hm.”
Ciel took a big, defiant bite of gravy-less chicken.
---
It was official.
This had possibly been the biggest mistake of his career.
The sun had just dipped down the horizon when he heard the distinct sounds of footsteps running down the stairs. Fitting for Ciel to catch him in the kitchen once again, like the boy was returning to the scene of the crime where he had brutally murdered Sebastian’s pride only hours before.
And in he came, like a bat out of hell, holding his intact egg up in triumph. He had won the war.
His face was bright as the sun, something that Sebastian found no pleasure in as he grappled with his fate.
“... I feel that this test needs another day.” He tried in vain.
Ciel shook his head. “You gave your word. No going back now.”
Sebastian groaned, hiding his face behind his hand as he sunk down into one of the kitchen chairs. He sighed, gesturing across the little table to the chair right across from him. He listened as Ciel shuffled over, taking a seat and setting the egg down on the table with a soft plunk. The kitchen table of negotiation.
“... I have conditions.” Sebastian said plainly, taking his face out of hiding now that he was sure he didn’t look on the verge of tears.
Ciel nodded eagerly and receptively, a much more enthusiastic audience than he usually is.
“The dog will not share the same name as me.” He said sternly, despite it being a ridiculous request.
“The name is already picked out, so there will be no trouble there.” Ciel said, leaning forward excitedly.
Sebastian sighed, still in disbelief that he was agreeing to this at all. “You said you wanted a hunting dog, so you will get a hunting dog. We will go to a proper breeder and collect one that is already housebroken. No puppies, am I understood?”
Ciel did not look disappointed in the slightest. He nodded just as eagerly as before. “Anything else?”
God this receptiveness was disturbing.
“It will not go on any furniture that you would accept guests.” Sebastian said sternly. “I will not have people leaving the manor covered in dog hair.”
“Understood.” Ciel agreed, watching him intently. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what else Ciel wanted.
“... Those are my only demands.”
But he still stared at him, almost like he was losing confidence. It took Sebastian a while to realize that he was waiting for the explicit confirmation, something to set this plan in stone. He sighed. “We will leave in the morning.”
That smile was back, just as bright as the sun.
---
They left first thing in the morning, with Ciel already up and laying out clothing on his own by the time Sebastian opened the door. So he was capable of such behavior. What a miracle.
Sebastian had taken some comfort when they arrived at the breeder’s, who trotted out his most well behaved dogs that he had deemed “fit for an earl” (Sebastian was happy to have an ally in this situation. God knows Bard hadn’t been any help).
But of course, the one that caught Ciel’s eye was a wild-tempered greyhound who nearly topped him over trying to lick his face.The boy had laughed, only half-way trying to push the dog off of him while the other scratched behind the beast’s ear encouragingly.
The breeder, who had initially apologized profusely for the dog’s behavior, laughed at the sight and said “I suppose the Earl is just a boy.”
A traitorous leech if Sebastian had ever met one-
So of course the wretched creature came home with them.
On top of being nearly uncontrollable, the cursed little thing was ugly as could be. Long in every sense of the word and fairly pathetic looking. The only silver lining that could be found in this was that the beast had the decency to ignore Sebastian entirely, lavishing all his ghastly affection on Ciel instead.
This affection did seem to delight Ciel though, who Sebastian had never seen smile as much as he did that day.
So maybe the dog wasn’t so bad.
“He cannot be on the bed!” Sebastian protested, attempting to wave the creature off of the comforter and pulling his hand away when the damned thing snapped its jaws at his sleeve as if Sebastian’s arm was the rope toy that Ciel had wasted his whole afternoon throwing across the garden.
Ciel’s head popped through the top of his nightdress and his attention went right back to the dog (as if it hadn’t been there all day). “I don’t take guests in my bedroom, so he can be on the bed.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, watching in disgust as the thing dragged its ham bone from dinner on the bed right next to it. Ciel climbed in, petting the dog behind his left ear and delighting in the way it threw its head back affectionately, trying to reach the boy’s face in order to lick it. “Good boy, Detective!”
“Call him by his proper name,” Sebastian scolded, lifting the boy up by the armpits and tossing him onto the sheets so he could pull the comforter up to his chin. The dog bounded up after him, letting out a bark that made Sebastian flinch back in disgust with his hands up. “He will never respond to it if you keep calling him ‘Detective’.”
The dog also didn’t deserve such a title. The lights were not all on upstairs.
“Alright then,” Ciel scratched the top of the damned creature’s head as he settled down on top of the comforter, as close to the boy as he could manage. “Good boy, Sherlock.”
Sherlock Holmes was the dog’s full, legal name. Which made Sebastian roll his eyes. “Don’t praise him for such behavior, he wished to take my hand as a souvenir.”
“He would never harm a fly,” Ciel cooed unbecomingly, snuggling closer to the animal. “Would you, boy?”
The dog groaned, both his and his little master’s energy seeming to have left their bodies like a lightning flash leaves a stormcloud. Sebastian moved about the room, picking up the clothing that had gotten scattered around the floor by Sherlock himself, who seemed to think everything but eating and sleeping was a game. In a sense, he supposed that meant he fit his master perfectly.
He could feel Ciel doze off, falling into a deep sleep at an alarming speed. His soft snores filled the room, making Sebastain smile fondly.
“You pulled the wool over my eyes once again, Young Lord.” He whispered, depositing the clothes into a small hamper for washing while the rest of the house slept. “Equal parts clever and cruel.”
Even he couldn’t shake the pride, watching the boy smile in his sleep after his victory. In a way, cruelty was their way of being kind. Not the excessive kind, but the kind that forced their days into a chess game of sorts. And when Ciel was able to pull the rug from underneath Sebastian, it made him feel… significant.
Which was a ridiculous thought to have. He was already plenty significant.
But seeing himself reflected back, growing sharper and harsher, and somehow better than him by the day… It was almost a purpose on its own.
That pride melted away to annoyance when the boy turned in his sleep, his eyepatch still on. Honestly, it was like Sebastian had to do everything.
He set the laundry down, walking over to the bed and reaching his hand towards Ciel’s sleeping form.
That was when a set of sharp teeth snapped down on his hand, forcing him to jump back. He propped his hand away, blood undoubtedly dripping onto the carpet as Sherlock let go of him with a vicious snarl. Sebastian immediately removed his glove, attempting to use it to reduce the mess as he swore under his breath.
He looked back up at the dog, who stood over his boy protectively as he growled lowly at Sebastian. His teeth were bared, still showing evidence of the attack he had given as a warning.
Sebastian went to scold the damned beast when his eyes fell on the contract seal, painted red and exposed now that the glove was removed. It made his voice drop into his stomach with a heavy kind of thud. He supposed in a way, he had been very wrong about Sherlock. He was just smart enough to protect his little master.
And he knew a threat when he saw one.
“Good boy, Detective.” Sebastian said sadly as the dog laid across Ciel’s torso, not once taking his eyes off of Sebastian. “Good boy.”
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wip wednesday, or, as i like to call it, thursday
sharing some of the most recent project i've been tinkering with which is the omusubi/season 3 essay:
On May 1, 2019, a new emperor takes the Chrysanthemum Throne. The Heisei era died in April, with imperial year Reiwa 1 beginning the day after Akihito abdicated. No emperor has voluntarily relinquished himself of his role in over 200 years, apparently so unprecedented that the Imperial Household Law of 1947 - which dictates plans of succession - had no legislation covering this situation.
令和 (Reiwa) is unique in that it’s the only era name that comes from Japanese originated text as opposed to the tradition of using classical Chinese texts, something prime minister Shinzo Abe publicly emphasized. 令和 is officially read as "beautiful harmony." As you can imagine, people disagree over this interpretation. Taken from the Asahi Shimbun:
However, some experts said the first Chinese character, 令 (Rei), today is most widely thought to mean "order," ”command," and "dictate," with an authoritarian tone. Historians and experts on the monarchy noted that an 1864 era name proposal of "Reitoku" using the same first character was rejected by the Tokugawa Shogunate, which said it sounded like the emperor was commanding Tokugawa. "The name sounds as if we are ordered to achieve peace, rather than doing so proactively," Kazuto Hongo, a University of Tokyo historian, said on TV Asahi. Yoshinori Kobayashi, a conservative cartoonist who has written books on Japanese emperors, said the character "Rei" portrays "the people kneeling down under the crown. Its meaning, after all, is a command of a monarch or a ruler. ... It is inevitable that 'Reiwa' gives a somewhat cold impression." [x]
Circling back around, one of the morals in S3E1 is: if you're going to be an asshole in public, then there's going to be public consequences. When there's no consequences, the assholes won't ever go away. Sticking a pin in this idea for later, what if that's sometimes a good thing?
Why are the sextuplets assholes? While we could list off answers forever, they all ultimately boil down to why (in part) the sextuplets are also virgin NEETs. Unabashedly, they're terrible people. And remember, nothing is sacred. The fact they're Not in Education, Employment, or Training, is a huge part of promoting the characters in such a manner. I don’t think I need to explain why this is clearly a dig at how such a capitalistic society values your productivity - both as a consumer and as an employee - and the fact that the conceptual NEET who engages in playtime isn’t the worst person to be. So, if this is a gag comedy anime that relies on relatability - on an audience that’s to, on some level, sympathize with these guys, what about this NEETdom is relatable?
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Report reveals that FBI spied on its likely new director, Kash Patel
It’s going to be awkward at FBI headquarters next month when President-elect Donald Trump’s pick to lead the bureau likely takes over.
According to a new government watchdog report, the FBI spied on its prospective new boss, Kash Patel.
Patel has promised to “clean house” at the Hoover Building, and hold all those who “abused their power” during the Russiagate “witch hunt” accountable.
He might start with the officials and agents who secretly vacuumed up his phone records and emails starting in late 2017, when he led a House Intelligence Committee investigation into the FBI’s reliance on Hillary Clinton’s false opposition research to surveil a Trump campaign official as a supposed “Russian agent.”
According to a nearly 100-page report by the Justice Department’s inspector general, the FBI subpoenaed the records as part of an investigation it opened to find out whether congressional staffers leaked classified information about its Trump-Russia “collusion” case to the Washington Post and other media.
Working with career prosecutors at Justice, the FBI compelled Google and Apple to turn over the sensitive private information of subjects the FBI identified “between September 2017 and March 2018,” a period when Andrew McCabe was the acting FBI director. (Then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions was out of the loop, the report said, having recused himself from the Russia probe.)
The court orders gagged the service providers from notifying Patel and other customers of the intrusion.
As chief counsel, Patel had no idea that the subject of his investigation — the FBI — was collecting his data and increasing the visibility of witnesses he was communicating with, including whistleblowers.
At the time, Patel was demanding to see FBI documents and depose FBI witnesses to find out if the bureau had abused its power in obtaining a FISA warrant to spy on Trump aide Carter Page.
But Patel remained in the dark until 2022, when Google finally was cleared to send him a copy of the subpoena. Outraged, he told me at the time: “The FBI and DOJ subpoenaed my personal records while I caught them doing this to Page back in 2017.”
He said the McCabe FBI didn’t want anybody to find out that it “literally copied and pasted” Democrat opposition research, wholesale, into wiretap-warrant applications.
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Neon Genesis Evangelion 13

I was looking forward to this, because it was a Ritsuko episode, but it kind of falls flat. At least she's nice to look at.

Let's get this part out of the way. The Eva pilot kids are participating in some weird experiment where they have to sit in simulations of their Eva units and they gotta be butt-ass naked the entire time. Ritsuko says some bullshit about how they're trying to eliminate any interference in their bodies' connection to the user-interface. So they had to get super-clean and I guess even wearing the plugsuits would introduce unknown variables to the experiment.
I mean, the real reason is to do another gag where the kids are made to feel uncomfortable for the audience's amusement. It's also to write them out of the story, because they'll spend the whole episode stuck inside their entry plugs, unable to leave because of an evacuation order and their nudity.

However, the experiment has to be aborted when some sort of unknown corrosion occurs and contaminants enter the purified water that the Eva simulators are soaking in. All efforts to remove the contamination fail, and when Ritsuko tries to burn it off the simulators, its protected by an AT field, which means...

It's an Angel. I'm not clear on whether it's been inside the NERV base for a long time, and it's only now just making its move, or whether it just got here. But check this out first.

While Admiral Clownshoes gets the report from Ritsuko, Gendo Ikari just rises up from the floor like Cody Rhodes on his magic stage elevator.

Except it looks like his lower body has been cropped off. I think he's supposed to be sitting at a desk that's rising up with him, but it's the same color as the wall, so it looks really, really bad.

Gendo immediately orders that the Evas should be launched. The real ones, not the simulators. His staff point out that they'll need the Evas to defeat the Angel that's infiltrated their base, but Gendo is worried that the Evas might be compromised by the contamination. At least this way, if they lose the base, the Evas will be safe outside.
As for the pilots, they were already ejected from the simulators when the crisis began. Here, let me skip to the end real quick.

Those are their entry plugs, which are just... floating in a lake for some reason? The kids spend the rest of the episode here. I guess they could climb out and swim to shore, but...

... they're nude, and also they have no idea what's going on, or that their Evas are also outside the base. I guess in theory they could mount up and fight the Angel as usual, but this isn't your typical Angel.

It's more like a microbial infection, or an algal bloom. Somehow, it's evolving, becoming hardier and more powerful as it makes its way through the base. Briefly, the gang notice that it might have an aversion to the ozone they use to sterilize the water, so they pump more ozone into try to kill it. That works... for a little while, until the Angel suddenly recovers and flourishes in the ozone-rich environment. It adapted to its new conditions.

I think when it made contact with Rei's Eva simulator, it learned... computers? I don't know a more sophisticated way to say that. Anyway, once that happened, the Angel started moving through NERV's... computer... stuff. Eventually it got into the MAGI.

All right, let's talk about the MAGI. These are a trio of supercomputers that run all of Tokyo-3. In particular, the MAGI function as the main OS for the NERV base, but they also serve as the de facto municipal government of the city. They have elections and human officials, but that's just a dog and pony show. The real decisions are made by AI.
When the Angel infects one of the three MAGI, Melchior, it attempts to trigger a self-destruct command, but the other two MAGI overrule it. So the Angel infects a second MAGI, Belshazzar, and Ritsuko manages to halt its advance by... well, I don't actually know how she does it.
This gives them two hours to figure out how to deal with this. Misato proposes destroying the MAGI before it's too late, but Ritsuko objects, since that would mean destroying their entire base. I don't know if she means that literally or metaphorically. I mean, the Angel is trying to destroy the base literally, so it sounds like Misato's plan would just be giving the Angel what it wants.

The problem is that the Angel keeps evolving to cope with any threat, so if they can't destroy the MAGI, then the only other alternative is to accelerate its evolution until it reaches a dead end. Uh, okay?

Eventually, the Angel might "choose to co-exist with the MAGI system", if its only alternative is to stagnate and die. I feel like we're making a lot of assumptions about what the Angel is and what its motivations are.
I just assumed these things are sentient life forms, an their attacks on NERV were deliberate acts against an enemy. This particular Angel infiltrated their base and immediately went into the heart of their operation--the computer that controls everything-- and tried to activate a self-destruct mechanism. It's not trying to communicate, and it's not an emergent consciousness. It seems to know exactly what's its doing, and it's trying to kill them, just like the last several Angels that made a beeline for this base.
My point here is that I don't think it has a strong survival instinct beyond completing its mission. Given the choice between co-existing with the MAGI and mutually assured destruction, I think the Angel would choose the latter. But maybe I've been misreading these things all along.

Ritsuko's proposal is to reprogram the third MAGI, Casper to... I don't even know. She's going to do something to it. Then they'll allow the Angel to contaminate that MAGI as well, and whichever one is faster will win. If the Angel can take control of all three MAGI, it can trigger the self-destruct, so unless Casper wins, they all die.

So Ritsuko crawls inside of Casper's... uh... computer junk, to make the necessary changes to its program. Inside, they find a bunch of handwritten developer notes, which supposedly will help them reprogram this thing even faster. Wouldn't these notes have been more helpful on the outside of the computer? I get that they were going for a particular visual here, but I'm really having a hard time keeping up.

While Ritsuko works, Misato asks her about the MAGI, which... okay, this is a huge pet peeve of mine, where I'm trying to fix some complicated piece of equipment, and someone tries to make idle conversation while I need to concentrate on what I'm doing. And this is a hundred times worse than that, because Ritsuko's on the clock, and when the clock runs out, they all die.
But Ritsuko plays along, so either she's just that good at multi-tasking, or she's too polite to object. Anyway, her mother was the one who invented the MAGI technology, and she imprinted her own personality into its systems. Ritsuko says her mom set them up to represent three aspects of her personality: Scientists, mother, and woman. Ritsuko always respected her mother as a scientist, and she could never relate to her as a mother, but she hated her as a woman. Okay?
Basically, Ritsuko didn't like her mom much, but she feels a special connection with the MAGI anyway, because they carry her mother's personality and legacy. It's a lot like the deal with Misato and her dad, or Shinji with his dad. Is this a theme, or did the writers just only have the one idea?

It's a good thing Ritsuko is so hot, or this episode would be a total mess. She does whatever she does, and it works, but with less than a second to spare. The Angel is... gone? They don't really get into that, but it doesn't explode like all the others, and the contamination is eliminated, so I don't know what exactly happened to it. Maybe it really is co-existing with the MAGI system.

Oh, wow, I'm out of episode. This was the pits.
A huge chunk of this one was just technobabble, which works pretty well on a show like Star Trek: The Next Generation, but not on an anime like this, which relies on flashy visuals instead of live actors. The problem is fairly simple: An Angel got in their base and tried to hack the supercomputer. But the solution is utter gobbledygook. I have no idea what they did to fix it, or even whether the Angel was alive or dead afterward.
I'm reminded a lot of the TNG episode "Final Mission". It's about Wesley Crusher's last day on the Enterprise before he goes to Starfleet Academy, and he, Captain Picard, and a dirtbag shuttle pilot get marooned on a desert planet. Picard is injured and the pilot gets killed, so it's up to Wesley to save Picard from some weird energy sentry that's preventing them from getting fresh water. Wesley figures it out, but the climax of the episode is just him tapping buttons on his tricorder until the sentry finally just... goes away.
It's a real letdown, because the rest of the episode was really good. The problem is that normally when they solve a problem on Star Trek, you have one of the crew explain the solution to the others, and they mull it over and eventually agree to a plan. But in "Final Mission", Wesley's got no one to talk to. Picard's unconscious and Dirgo's dead, and the Enterprise hasn't found them yet. So he's stuck in the unfortunate position of having to come up with this clever solution with his tricorder, but never getting the chance to tell anyone how he did it.
A good counterexample to this is "The Enemy", where Geordi La Forge is marooned on a planet with a hostile Romulan, and they have to work together to track a homing beacon to escape. It's much more effective, because it's two characters in a collaboration, so they have to explain what they're doing. Geordi has a tricorder and his VISOR, but the planet's environment has messed up his brain to where he can't use the VISOR, and his tricorder isn't sensitive to the beacon. So the Romulan suggests he connect them together. Good idea, but Geordi can't do it because he can't see, so the Romulan does it while Geordi talks him through the procedure.
That's not what we get in NGE 13. The Angel contaminates the base, and you have a lot of panicky dialogue and characters giving status updates and issuing orders, but none of it means anything.
"Reroute the main server into the backup neurohub!" "Disengage Pipe #6!" "It's entered the Matthew vinculum! Heading for Mark, now Luke! Isolate the John vinculum, quickly!" "Execute protocols A, F, and 37." "Shut off the frammistat and bring the Longius Introspection online." "But sir...!" "To hell with the safety checks, there's no time!"
You can kind of get away with this stuff, but there has to be a balance. Technobabble is for aesthetic purposes, to establish that it's science fiction. At some point you gotta come up for air and fill in your audience on the stakes. Let them know what the problem is and what obstacles the characters need to overcome to fix it. Otherwise you're just showing people typing on computers until the alarms switch off.
The biggest gripe I have with this episode is that Ritsuko's plan worked perfectly. There was zero tension or conflict to any of it. The alternative--destroying the MAGI, as Misato proposed-- was apparently so unthinkable that it barely got any traction. So Ritsuko's plan was the only option. Ritsuko herself had no problem implementing the plan. It would have been nice if she felt some sort of inner turmoil over this. Like, maybe she could have been worried that she wasn't good enough to pull this off. Maybe she had some unpleasant memory of her mother inside Casper's inner workings, so she just has an aversion to crawling back inside. Anything, as long as it's more than just sitting inside a computer and typing on another computer.

Well, at least she looks good doing it.
#neon genesis evangelion#2024ngeliveblog#shinji ikari#rei ayanami#asuka langley soryu#gendo ikari#clownshoes#misato katsuragi#ritsuko akagi
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Total Slaughter Island (Rescue Rangers) Chapter 1: One Month Earlier
Alright the official chapter one, I actually had a lot of fun writing this one. Back stories and different POV's are always so much fun to write. I don't really have much to say other than thanks to all the people who are reading this story I hope you'll like the chapter and more insight on Dakota's relationship with Chris.
Dakota Natalie was a kindhearted, gentle, quiet, but compassionate young girl. Her long brown hair and trustworthy eyes made her more approachable than the busy, stressed-out, and, at times, cold and distant members of Fresh TV. Who were scrambling to make deadlines and get the live feed up and running for what is hoped to be the hottest new teenage reality show, Total Drama Island.
Ever since last year, Chris has been planning his show with crazy challenges, high stacks, and, of course, drama-filled rivalries. (And maybe a hint of romance if sparks flow.)
But the real kicker was the one million buckeroos (in Canadian currency, of course) that were offered to the contestant that lasted the longest. (In other words, the person who avoids elimination in a pool of twenty-one other teenagers.)
Dakota expected that money to not even last a week. No kid, no matter how responsible, should have that much money without a little supervision. If she won that prize, her father would store the money away for both a rainy day and college funds. (Not that she even planned to go to college.)
Even though she’s been working for Chris for about six months, she couldn’t say she truly enjoyed it. Sure, the job paid well, and she got to work alongside her dad; however, it was just too overwhelming; the constant hustle and bustle left her physical, social, and mental batteries drained.
It was just too much for her introverted personality; she couldn’t handle high-stress and high-pressure jobs. She desperately needed some quiet time to recharge and had been contemplating quitting for a while. However, it was a stable income most kids her age didn’t have, not to mention she’d have to find a new job to replace this one, and she had no idea what she even wanted to do for a living. So, until she got her life figured out, she'll hold her tongue and exhaustion and went back to work. If she could even call it that since things have been very slow today, it was meant to be the series premiere of Total Drama, and yet she hasn’t been called down for coffee requests, to take notes on viewer opinions, or to watch the live feed to make sure everything was in working order.
Heck, she hadn’t heard from Chris since yesterday, which wasn’t a call for concern in itself per se. Her relationship with her boss has soured a bit ever since he started working on this project. Cutting corners by finding the cheapest island money could buy and lying to everyone, stating the game show took place in a five-star resort. Heck, even the food Chef was cooking broke every health code imaginable.
To say the show was created by a mentally stable individual was the understatement of the century. The way the contents were treated seemed like Chris thought they were cartoon characters doomed to be thrust into slapstick gag after violent slapstick gag. And to Dakota, that mindset was a lawsuit waiting to happen, not that she was surprised.
She always had a sneaking suspicion that Chris was masking his true personality, and Dakota was pretty sure he didn’t notice these observations the young girl took note of. Whether Chris was consciously aware of these patterns of behavior did matter, as it just proved her point that Chris was not what he seemed. In fact, Dakota brought up the behavior to her friend Amy, who was studying to become a therapist, and she agreed that Chris may be a sociopath. Or was it Psychopath? Dakota could never remember the differences.
She glanced at the clock hanging overhead; it was almost midday, meaning the contestants should be participating in their first challenge already, but the cameras were still down. Where was Chris? Why did it seem the show had gone radio silent? And more importantly, what was going on?
She was tempted to call someone and ask if everything was alright when, speak of the devil, she heard panicked whispers and peeked out the door frame to see numerus cameramen, producers, interns, and Chris and Chef themselves. They were back eight weeks early. no campers in sight, and no prize money was distributed. (Or at least not to her knowledge.)
She strained to hear what they were discussing, praying they came back cause of camera failure, but what she was able to make out shook her to the core.
“That was a close one; I thought I was going to be next.” An intern breathed in relief but seemed pretty shaken.
“Yeah, forget that stupid island; I’d rather make it big in the city than stay on a floating death trap.” Another staff member chuckled uneasily; the air felt tense with fear, whatever happened seemed to give everyone a fright.
“What happened down there?” Dakota questioned, “And where’s the campers?” She continued listening, and what she heard next made her heart drop.
“Good job, everyone! phew, we just avoided certain disaster. Now, how about you wash up? I’ll make some calls and see if we can rangel a new setting some more teens and forget the whole murderer on the island thing ever happened.
Dakota’s eyes widened, murderer?! Was someone murdered while filming? She feared something like this would happen considering the challenges Chris laid out weren’t safety-inspected.
“Please don’t let it be a camper; please don’t let it be a camper.” She prayed, hoping it was just an intern and not one of the contestants. Speaking of which, where were they? The young girl hoped Chris wasn’t heartless enough to just leave without them, but of course, asking Chris to be selfless in a situation like that is wishful thinking.
"Uh, Chris, are you sure it was a good idea to leave the rest of the kids on the island? For all we know, the killer could still be there.” Chef spoke his concern,
“Nonsense, they should be fine." He brushed off with a giggle, “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the campers had a secret bloodlust and took it out on poor Zeke. If the killer doesn’t kill them, starvation and a harsh winter will. Now, I don’t want a word of this getting out to the public if anyone asks; the show ran into technical difficulties and will no longer be filmed live. Understand?” He glared, to which everyone agreed, not wanting to lose their job.
“Good, now if we..." Dakota listened until Chris got out of earshot, unable to believe her ears. A murderer on Camp Wawanakwa? And someone named Zeke was killed?!
“Wait, who was Zeke again?” She thought, she never got the chance to meet the campers in person.
She was startled out of her thoughts when a fellow co-worker eating some chips spoke up, “What’s up, girl? You seem like you’ve seen a ghost."
Dakota looked at her friend, Emily Jones. She had dark brown hair, two strands tied into small pigtails, brown eyes, wore a pink striped shirt, black jeans, ankle-high boots, and a black jacket tied around her waist.
“Yeah, just surprised to see Chris back so soon.” She spoke, feeling uneasy about the whole thing: “I thought the show lasted eight weeks?”
“Oh, you didn’t get the memo?” Emily spoke up, sitting upright.
“What memo?”
“The show’s been canceled; apparently some kid named Ezekiel Miller kicked the bucket. I guess the real world was too much for a sheltered homeschooler.” She revealed it a bit too nonchalantly for her friend’s liking.
“Wait, what happened?!”
“Some surfer dude found his severed head under his bunk late last night, and his legs were found not long after. The network was so freaked out they pulled the show off the air before any damage could be done.”
“Did they see who killed him?”
“Nope, Homeschooler was last seen heading to the confessional when some maniac grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie and dragged him deeper into the forest. When Zeke didn’t return, Chris sent someone to search for him and found his legs and a threatening message in the outhouse. Yeah, they ran off like a bunch of animals with their tails between their legs and hightailed it out of there.”
“Did they get that all on camera?”
“Most of it, thankfully, it wasn’t shown on air. They were more concerned with scenes that showed the whole group than one lowly, sexist teenager raised by misogynistic parents in the prairies. Oh, did I mention he’s been homeschooled his whole life?”
“Yeah, once or twice.” Dakota muttered, surprised by how Emily wasn’t bothered by this. “What about the other campers? Please tell me they’re safe."She hoped, but the next words her friend spoke shattered them immediately.
“Nope, those kids are dead meat. Chris and the crew bailed shortly after Zeke was found and left everyone else behind. Assuming the killer isn’t one of them, those campers are as good as dead.”
“No, they can’t be dead!” She yelled, feeling angry tears well up inside of her. “We can’t just sit back and let them die; we have to call the police, the coast guard, any..." Dakota abruptly stopped the last bit of Emily’s sentience, registering, “Wait, what do you mean assuming the killer isn’t one of them?”
“Exactly what I said.” She replied, “Isn’t it obvious? Someone must’ve gotten fed up with Ezekiel’s sexist remarks and confronted him about it. Being the socially oblivious person he is, he continued running his mouth, causing the blackened to become even more fed up until... She paused for dramatic effect, Dakota on the edge of her seat, as Emily explained her theory: “Wham! The murderer pulls out a weapon, and Homeschooler is no more. My money is on the delinquent; he’s been to juvie, ya know, and had a switchblade on him. I wouldn't put it past him to steal a meat cleaver from the kitchen.”
Emily returned to snacking, leaving her friend stunned silent. Was it possible? Could one of the campers be capable of doing this? To an innocent teenager who, yes, had backward views on society, but it wasn’t his fault, his parents filled his brain with misinformation.
“What are we going to do?” She asked quietly,
Emily turned to her friend and sighed sadly for once, showing empathy for the situation: "Nothing; the network doesn’t want to risk any more casualties, and getting authorities is out of the question. The island is undisclosed, and revealing that information will make us prime suspects, and according to the network and Chris, we can’t risk that. We spent a lot of money on this show’s success, and now that it’s canned, they don’t want to waste any more resources on some flimsy rescue mission. Their words not mine. Wait, where are you going?!”
Dakota got out of her seat, emotionally driven and demanding, answers, “I’m paying Chris a visit.” She spoke, straightening her denim jacket and pink dress. Fellow workers bid her good afternoon as she walked past, but they were ignored as she stormed down the halls until she reached a door with a large star-shaped dressing room sticker that read Chris McLean in black cursive letters. Dakota didn’t bother to knock as she barged in.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!" She exclaimed and automatically regretted not knocking. “Oh god! Ewgh! fluff!” She cursed, shielding her eyes, seeing Chris not only shirtless but fully orange.
“Oooo, someone used your tanning bed again?” She asked, the initial disgust fading away, seeing a bit of humor in the tanning incident. “Ha, that’s called Karma Bud." She thought smugly,
“Yep, and I have a pretty good idea who.” He said, “Also, I don’t remember giving you bragging privileges. What’s with the sudden outburst?"
Fully remembering why she came, Dakota put on her best defensive stance and confronted her boss. “Chris, I know what you did; you left twenty-one teenagers to die on a deserted island with no way out.”
"Whoa, whoa, slow down there. First of all, I didn’t abandon them; I just took a minor detour. Second of all, I didn’t leave anyone for dead. I have full intention on returning to rescue them.”
“Oh yeah, when?” She inquired, not convinced in the slightest,
Chris winced, knowing that lie wasn’t going to work. “Well, aren’t you just on a roll? Okay, yes, I’ll admit maybe I ran off when I saw that message and Ezekiel’s legs; maybe I should’ve warned the campers and got us all out of there. But I freaked out. Could you blame me?! The last thing I needed was my head on a platter, not to mention the time it’d take to get everyone out could’ve meant someone else’s life.”
"Yeah, well, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!” Dakota snapped, “Now those teens are really gonna die and...! Have you no soul?!”
Chris winced again, trying to console an angry and emotional girl. “If this is what raising kids is like, I’m gonna rethink my answer on adopting.”
"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. But sometimes you need to make sacrifices. Sure, a few people may get a bit ticked off, but one day they’ll get over it.”
“Not if it’s one of their children dying! Those kids had families, Chris; they’re the same age as me, and they could be dead in a week's time! Career or no career, they will never forgive you for this; you’re a coward, Chris! You saw danger and ran the moment it peaked its ugly head. You just cost innocent lives their whole future!” She yelled, fully crying now.
“Dakota, you know the network doesn’t want us...
"No, save it! I don’t care what the network wants; I want them home safe and sound and the killer brought to justice. I don’t want to be mixed up in your mistakes, and if you won’t rescue them, so help me, I will!” She yelled, slamming the door, leaving Chris dumbfounded. “Well, she took that just about as well as I expected.” He chuckled to himself. He underestimated Dakota’s kind heart; she felt sympathy and empathy extremely well, way better than most people here. It allowed her to connect with people’s issues and, at times, helped them relate. And considering the situation, she understood how everyone must be feeling. Scared, alone, and probably sacred for life.
“Ugh, what have I gotten myself into?” He groaned, knowing Dakota was going to be fighting tooth and nail to get those kids home. However, the network’s mind was set; they've convinced themselves that one of the campers killed Ezekiel, and while Chris would rather believe it himself, to believe the campers have a better chance at survival. Deep down, he knew he did a horrible, criminal, and overall unforgivable thing. And yet he did nothing to change it as Dakota desperately tried to get someone to rescue the remaining twenty-one campers. God, he didn’t want to think about how those numbers could be dwindling by the day.
It wasn’t long before word got out, and missing person reports were filed. In hindsight, they should have seen this coming. Word spread pretty quickly in this day and age. All it took was one loose-lipped employee, and the rest was history; the public outcry was overwhelmingly negative. People rallying together, demanding answers, and pressuring the network to fire Chris and save the teens, or at least reveal the information needed so authorities can handle it.
Sadly, the studio stayed tight-lipped, deciding not to get involved, much to everyone’s dismay.
Dakota walked into the office with a heavy heart. It has been one month since Ezekiel’s murder, and calls from distressed parents have become daily. Dakota lost count of how many times a parent or relative would call, asking for updates or a tiny sliver of information on the filming location. Unfortunately, not even Dakota or any employee knew the location of Camp Wawanakwa; only Chris, Chef, and a few higher-ups knew where the island was and didn’t want that information to get out of fear of being prime suspects.
“Ugh, they’re just a bunch of cowards—the whole lot of them.” Dakota thought bitterly, head down, and letting her muscle memory drag her to her office. “I can’t believe any of them; children are dying on a deserted island, and they don’t even have the decency to give the public peace of mind.”
The crestfallen girl moped into the room as Emily was reassuring another parent.
“Mrs. Anderson You have every right to be concerned for your son. No, worrying doesn't make you a bad mother; it’s completely normal in situations like these. Just know that we are doing everything we can to ensure he and everyone else comes back safely.” She reassured, “Yes, Mrs. Anderson? Yes, hello, yes, it appears you are going through a tunnel; I’m gonna have to let you go. Okay bye.” She sighed as she hung up.
“Who was that?”
Cody’s mother: She called me on her way to work, and it's the third time this week too.” Emily answered, resting her head in her arms, “We can’t keep living like this; we need to do something now before we get sued!”
“Oh, so now you're taking this seriously?"
The other glared, "Oh, don’t give me that look. You know I brush things off and use sarcasm to deal with stressful things; it’s my way of coping. Believe me when I say I am on your side."
The other didn’t speak; she just glared at her friend as an employee peeked inside. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but there’s a meeting starting. I wouldn’t skip this if I were you.” She spoke simply and left.
The two looked at each other and silently agreed, rushing to the meeting room praying for good news. Walking inside, it was deadly quiet; tensions were high as whispers were exchanged and concerns were expressed. Dakota locked eyes with Chris, who for once seemed remorseful. She quickly looked away, setting her gaze on the head C.E.O., who sighed deeply.
“It appears our decision to stay silent was a mistake.” He started, which many agreed with: “It has come to my attention that many parents have called out of both worry and dead set on finding their kids themselves through private investigators; some have even threatened legal action, which is something becoming increasingly harder to ignore. I have called you all here today because we need ideas. We are slowly running out of time, and staying silent is just making things worse. I believe it is time that we
“I know who the killer is!” Chef screamed bargaining into the room, much to everyone’s surprise and shock.
Honestly, I made Emily way too nonchalant about the whole killer on the island thing, but this is how she copes deep inside she's probably freaking out like everyone else, and I know Danganronpa came out in 2010 but Island of the Slaughter has some Danganronpa vibes, so I had to throw in the blackened reference. Also seems like Chef may have an idea who the killer of Wawanakwa is. But the question is does he? Find out next week when I post the last written chapter that I have backlogged. See ya on the flip side ;)
#total drama#total drama fanfiction#island of the slaughtered#Total Slaughter Island (Rescue Rangers) Chapter 1#chris mclean#dakota natalie#emily jones#chef hatchet#td ezekiel#writeblr#ao3fic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction chapter#ao3 author#ao3#fanfiction.net#td chris#td chef#ao3 writer#ao3 works#fanfic
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4. His Highness Deadcross
Note for people actually following this: The slight delay in post will probably be common. I work almost every weekday and come home really exhausted so I don't normally have the energy for something like this.
While I generally don't question the order the comics are placed in in this compilation, I will say that if someone were reading Astro Boy for the first time in this order, they would probably be pretty confused right now. "But Atom is in this panel!" "Who are any of these people?"
I'm curious where the comics introducing the creation of a family for Atom will end up in the compilation. This being a serialized manga without a singular coherent storyline, this type of thing happens a lot, where it makes more sense for a story to go early, but some detail in it won't be explained fully because it's a change made in the years between whatever comics you read.
While I'm fond of the more coherent storylines of modern animation and comics, I do sort of miss serialized stories and the return to normalcy at the end of each "episode." I understand it's more common in childrens' TV, especially childrens' TV we might not think of as Artful when compared with the childrens' TV that has those storylines (thinking of like. Uncle Grandpa. That type of show.)
I think the general culture around media has shifted to one of character and story development, which is interesting. Characters and stories can still be evolved over serialized media, but it's a different approach. I remember when Wander Over Yonder was airing thinking "wow, this is a great cartoon and it's episodic instead of arc-based!"
This is a ramble. I just think it's becoming much rarer, so this problem the omnibus has to deal with is not as much of an issue anymore, at least with officially published content.
EDIT: I realized the reason for this ramble is unclear. It's much more difficult to present a coherent storyline when the changes to the main cast are episodic rather than arc-based, because the pacing would be very strange. Many times these character introductions are apropos of nothing in a larger arc or storyline, which is fine, it's just a different approach and presents a challenge when trying to create a cohesive work later, because there are many possible ways to organize the "episodes"
Genuinely Uran is so funny for this. I know this is the first time we're seeing her in the omnibus but I'm just so fond of her. Her childish but sneaky approach parallels Atom's polite near-deference with figures of authority (unless they are "evil," but at this point we don't think anything of the Pants we are being presented) Part of me believes in my heart that this is because Atom has had high responsibility for his actions - He is held accountable to a standard human children are not, and the optics of what he says and does are scrutinized somewhat. Uran has not had this, but has the same type of "free will" and lack of given purpose that Atom does. Oh yeah cobalt is there too. Hi cobalt.
Really funny visual gag where did you get that bigass weight. Don't answer. I do love that he's ostensibly working out in his free time despite this giving no real strength benefit to a robot with a set strength built in, although I do suppose getting used to how weight handles and how heavy objects throw as opposed to light objects would be extremely useful for him. Anyway. You could probably guess this but as I grew up on the 2003 Astro Boy dub, I was also a Teen Titans (2003) fan. Cyborg has a great episode surrounding the idea that strength is built in called "Sum of His Parts". I have my artistic preferences with that episode and personally would not have done everything the way it does, but the evaluation of psychology when your physical limits are perceived as set in stone is very relevant here.
We are like two pages into this one btw. I'm normal.
Another robot specific law: Robots aren't allowed to go overseas by themselves/unaccompanied by humans without a permit. This makes a bit of sense relative to robots widely being property to be protected (read: you do not want them fleeing). This was actually shown in "The Birth of Astro Boy"
See the above panel from the first comic in the omnibus.
It's also funny that they didn't just also get Atom permission on the way and were instead like. Okay Atom we're just going to do a whole trenchcoat deal. I imagine that permission to move between borders is different to acquire in different countries, and likely far more difficult in countries with more restrictive laws around robotic existence. Japan is fairly forward in robotic tech from what we see, but it's likely the bureaucratic process would take a while. Easier to just break the law. (In some regard, this can be argued as a loophole rather than an outright crime - It depends how "A Robot" is defined. One could argue that a robot is based on their singular brain, so one pass per brain, but there are robots with parts that operate independent of one another, and this would mean they would need multiple passes. This is like, really specific legal wording type issues. What is shown here indicates that this is the case, but I can't say for certain why as we don't know the law in full.)
Also, while they say overseas, it's likely more like humans needing to acquire a visa, and certain countries or borders have agreements on the issue. Japan is surrounded by water, so any other country is "overseas."
Also, pretty sure we'll see Atom go to other countries without permission.
It's funny to me that they both act like younger siblings a lot of the time because Atom is just a lot more mature and has a lot more experience in the world. Anyway Ha ha ha ha lookee! lookee!
Ban really does get some of the best reaction expressions lol
I'm not asking how they made indent footprints in what seems to be concrete or stone. I'm not.
Seems to me that this indicates some amount of standardization in robots, or at the very least, robots meant to look human, by country. This also would make sense to identify what's going on, but uh. Can't they wear shoes...? Anyway, this kind of standardization would likely be required for those roaming permits to be functional in other countries. I.E. If Canada does not agree to standardization law x394.32, the USA will rescind their robotic passage permits and any permits currently in use will be void.
If I were making an Astro Boy comic, I'd keep some element of this standardization. Just maybe not on the feet.
God I love this series so much. WE CAN'T LET HIM KNOW WE ARE BOARDING FLIGHT 0036!
MORE ON ROBOTS BEING DISALLOWED FROM HURTING HUMANS: "We had no choice" is apparently a retort to this. So it's definitely a choice-based thing and not a built-in limitation of the AI. Anyway Atom looks really nervous about having hurt a human, probably for multiple reasons, one being that his teacher is out cold, another being what the consequences would be for this law being broken - And also the optics of Atom possibly being within blame.
I have no comment on this really it's just something that's likely disallowed in other countries. Sentiments would have to be extremely positive toward robots in a country for one to be allowed to run for president, and for them to win ).
This would be one of those countries with lax robotic laws I mentioned earlier.
.
Actually gruesome as hell
Another progressive robot law Gravia had that allowed this to happen, robots can vote. I sort of doubt this is the case in other places, but I'm not sure within the initial run of the manga.
Rag your minister just kicked a human in Japan like. For not even that much reason he could have just run faster instead.
Puts you in my torture chamber I devised full of polyester balls and pours water into it, half-crushing you (but not to worry, it's a comic strip, after all.)
Our first actual portrayal of a hate group, the Deadcross Society.
SPROING. I love the ZERO pause between "how can I meet him?" and Atom just using the window immediately.
I believe this is Atom Using An Unopened Window As A Door #1 of our read through. I suppose it indicates synthetic robot skin is more difficult to cut than human skin since he's so willing to jump through windows, but he's not really worried about his clothes either. So who knows.
Atom is highly capable in robotics. This is not new it's just the first we're seeing of it in the read through.
Also, Rag is really fruity about this. Strange two panels.
I know I add this kind of thing a lot but I love this detail. Looking forward to seeing it disregarded later <3 (Said with genuine love)
While simplified (because it's a kids manga), this is a pretty realistic and also like. realistically dark (? I don't know how else to describe it. It parallels how messed up they are in real life too with real tactics) portrayal of a hate group. The explicit "The fear this and the attacks put into you is with the intent of making you resign and return to subservience" is good for kids to see, I think.
Future technology. I do agree in the world of Astro Boy it's probably much more possible to have a realistic 3-dimensional display of something, which we haven't actually really acquired yet in the real world. That said, in this case, it can't be touched or interacted closely with (It's like a stage, you just can't step past the screen and into the scene), whereas something like Pluto shows holograms that can allow for closer investigation of detail. Looking forward to analyzing how other Astro Boy media approaches this type of technology.
Having to plan ahead and conserve energy for later things is notable since if two things happen one after the other he just runs out. He conserves energy even during combat if he thinks there will be More Combat After That.
Most days he probably hardly uses any though, assuming he doesn't fly to and from school.
Fucked. Jesus Christ. (no pun intended)
his beutiful eyes
.
Post to be continued in a reblog. Guess who hit 30 images. I'm so silly goofy like that.
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Time to live up to my username.
Here's an Unpopular Modern Gaming Opinion:
Bridget shouldn't have been made Trans for Strive.
Let's get one thing clear - I have no issues with the idea of creating new characters with a trans identity, what I take issue with is when you take characters with longstanding, pre-established lore, and hamfist things into their lore, like trying to hammer a square peg into a round hole.
Throughout Bridget's history in the Guilty Gear storyline, Bridget's whole story circled around a superstitious village belief surrounding identical twins. Bridget was raised to dress like, behave like, and speak like a girl in order to avoid being banished/killed.
Once he was of age to journey on his own, Bridget opted to become a Bounty Hunter in order to bring great wealth back to his village, hoping that, by doing so, it would help prove the village's superstitions wrong.
His ORIGINAL storyline would end with him returning to the village, fortune in tow, disproving the village's beliefs...only to discover that, in his absence, his twin brother had been absconded with, leading him to strike out in search of his whereabouts.
The constant gag running throughout Bridget's storyline in games where he was present, were people mistaking him for a girl - something which he would constantly, adamantly refute (much to the trauma of one particular pirate leader).
So, it makes no sense to many longterm GG fans (y'know, the people who actually PLAY the games and learn the convoluted lore) why, seemingly out of nowhere, Bridget suddenly decides "Actually, maybe they were right, maybe I was wrong, and maybe I AM a girl".
Bridget was a trailblazer when they were first created, giving us a GNC character who wasn't played off as a joke (See: Dan Hibiki), and was balanced as being just as strong as 90% of the other fighters (Fuck you, Potemkin).
Daisuke wanted to create an unconventional male character, and that's what Bridget gave us (also, Venom, who was revealed as gay through official audio dramas).
If they had taken the slow, long-term approach of having Bridget go through some sort of trans awakening (even if it was just in the backstory of games they weren't involved with as playable fighters), it would've made the whole reveal in Strive a lot less of a confusing shock to the longtime fanbase who'd been waiting for this character to return after 9 years of absence.
Like, at the end of the day, most of the fanbase just decided to drop it, accept it as Daisuke saying "This is how it is now", and moved on.
Like, at day's end, I'm just glad that Bridget was brought back to the fore, I just wish they weren't handled so sloppily. Like, if they confirmed that Xrd, Revelator, and Strive were all an alternate timeline from the Original games, that probably wouldn't have resulted in such a backlash, but we can't change what's been set in stone. Word of God and all that.
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“That sounds horrible.” Shawn visibly shuddered. The idea that all the TV she watched as a kid had to be educational? He could barely process the horror. What kind of dystopian childhood was that? Henry might’ve been strict, but even he wasn’t the type to unwind with a documentary after work. No, his dad’s version of "educational programming" involved buddy cop movies and the fishing channel—because apparently, watching other people catch fish was just as good as doing it yourself.
“You have to watch the first two.” A statement. A decree. An unshakable truth of the universe. He was fully prepared to drop everything—food, conversation, his entire evening—to make this happen. It was practically a sacred duty to introduce someone to a classic for the first time. And, let’s be honest, watching her reaction would be gold.
Ah, she knows about his field. That’s unexpected. She does have that clinical vibe—the way she speaks, all sharp and precise, like an instruction manual with no room for interpretation. No fluff, no dream-like tangents, nothing floating away into the ether. Very not Shawn. He’d have to tread carefully.
“Well, it’s sort of a family tradition. My dad was a cop—no premonitions, but he was scary good at his job. And, in a weird twist of fate, I kinda… followed in his footsteps.” He paused, then let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my God, I’ve become exactly what he wanted me to be. This is a nightmare. Quick, someone hand me a surfboard and a ticket to Maui before it’s too late.”
A few years ago, the thought of saying that out loud would have made him fake gag. But now? He could admit it. Henry had won. Shawn had a respectable position at the station, was besties with the chief (not officially, but unofficially), and, despite all expectations, he actually liked the job. Younger Shawn would be horrified. But then again, Younger Shawn didn’t know how much fun he’d make it. And Gus, no matter how much he protested, loved their ridiculous adventures.
“Improved grappling hook? Okay, yeah, now I know you need to watch Indiana Jones and James Bond. Those movies would give you so many ideas. And also, huge missed opportunity if you don’t grow a long white beard and talk like an ancient wizard. Just saying.” He pointed his fork at her, nodding sagely. “Also, I need to see this Grandfather Clock that makes toast. That’s not just an invention—that’s a revolution.”
And he meant it. Even as he speared a piece of potato and chewed, grimacing slightly at the offensive amount of vegetables stuck to it. Why did restaurants insist on making meals so… healthy? He didn’t order a salad with a side of food.
“You can probably imagine that chasing criminals, thieves, and murderers requires a lot of creative problem-solving. Which means gadgets. Which means you could be the Q to my Bond. You’d have cool stuff to work on, I’d get a clock that makes toast, everybody wins.”
A guy could dream.
୨୧╼ Shawn Spencer was truly a curiosity. Like one might find at one of those antique curio shops. With strange and exotic paraphernalia from assorted times and places. Where you never knew what you would see around the corner. It was clear that he was highly intelligent, albeit very silly. But her scientific oriented brain had difficulty believing in his proclaimed divinations.
Politely Violet covered her mouth, unable to suppress her giggle. There was something humorous about the way he scrutinized his food. There were many times that she had not had the luxury of being picky about food. The only requirement she had for what she ate was that it did not contain peppermint. But that was only due to an allergy. It was her sister Sunny, that had a more discerning palate.
“You certainly are a character. Though – I must admit I’ve never seen an Indian Jones movie. I imagine I won’t now since you find it so unsavory. My parents were the type of parents where all the media we consumed had a purpose. Usually educational, others for knowing what to do when confronted by villainy. Not that I have a complaint about it. Simply I missed out on certain popular culture. ”
The way that Shawn’s eyes moved were methodical. While he may have been rambunctious in nature, there seemed to be a method to his madness. Violet wondered what it might be like to look around in such a manner, without seeing a bad actor behind every door. Literally.
“A calling? A natural born gift?” Well-formed eyebrows rose, as she felt herself begin to smile. “Such as the diviners and prophets of the past? Have you ever met anyone else with such a talent?” How could she not be curious? Whatever was going on with him was fascinating. “I once worked for a dreadful and selfish woman who claimed clairvoyance. It was all smoke and mirrors however.” Sometimes Violet swore she still heard the snarls of the lions that so greedily gobbled Madame Lulu up. A wretch of a woman who used her last breath to betray the Baudelaire’s.
If Shawn truly had such premonitions; he would have seen though Violet already. The cavalcade of misfortune that surrounded her. That she did not have clean hands, even if she had the best aims. As the old proverb said, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. “Whether or not your gift is something mystical – I must commend you on the fact you use your abilities to aid in justice. Many would use them for more self-indulgent purposes.”
There were many things that Violet was good at, talking about herself was not one of them. Nervously she bit her bottom lip and glanced down into her lap. “I apologize, I am not used to people asking about me. I am an inventor with a variety of patents to my name. The ones that were the most successful ended up being an improved grappling hook and pencil sharpener. I have been tinkering since I was a child. Not all of my inventions are practical. Once I made a Grandfather Clock Toaster. Whenever the clock struck twelve it would eject two pieces of toast.” Finally, she looked back up again, “My daughter just started college – and she insisted I get out of my workshop and get this novel thing called a social life. She’s adopted – and her birth mother in trusted me with her safety. My life has revolved around her for so long, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
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Adult read ahead. 18/over. All consensual or cnc. Part Two of my I became her’s today. Adventure …..
Thwack. Smack. Then I felt someone step on my tits, ask if ….to all I hear is yes please do. Then I feel the foot come down on my clit. Then puts his cig out the fun way (body fluid put it out as he’s putting it to my clit). Then next I know I’m fucking a shoe. Then two shoes. I hear your “hairs done, the ceremony is about to begin, but the reception won’t happen until you have a full on orgasm from fuckin those feet. “. Then with two shoes takin off but left inside me-the blindfold removed I was tattooed with female special tatt they’d come up with to go with my owners. Signifying-I’m owned and open and bi 🩷🎉😜😛😛😛🥹🥹😅😅😅🥲🥲😗😗😗🤤🤤🤤😮💨😮💨😮💨🫣🫣😈👿. We said the vows she’d chosen. Watched a porn trailer like the basically showed 35 mins of snippets of her fetishes to do to a girly tramp. I was humping the showed while watching basically the full ahead being owned again by man and woman. They got to the end of a wine bottle being fucked but talked to like it’s a man. It ended. Got quiet. I see my owners walk up both smack my bound clamped tits and ask if anyone top me to stop fucking the shoes. I shook no, started vigorously plowing them In me. While he said you’ll be punished by both of us later. Right now we are leaving you tied as is so you can fuck those shoes like the ho you are but you’re getting the blindfold and arm will be tied and we will fk you with them and more with how wet you get if needed. And the whole time you’re going to be seen and heard loudly fucking your man. (Meant he was taking consent pics). I felt the rub of shoe by leg and I began. Hey sexy I noticed you wanna fuck? No I’m free and open and like pain and women the one shoe is on my thigh one still on leg. We can fuck here or in the restroom or parking lot or house or wherever I just need to feel ….ohhh (the stiletto slide in ) those finger feel great yes even right out where I can be seen. I don’t care. I’m a ho. I like pleased people. (Whip comes thru five times) oh my thank you for that even in this restroom I think I need a bad girl belt. I fuck the heel while whipped with belt. Can you please fuck me with your dick too-can leave fingers in me but I need cock. Nipples are squeezing against the clamps on goes more (ouuiccch) weight. Clit being hit bit pulled clamped while I beg for the second shoe knowing I can cum they know as well and delay via flogging. 🩷🩷🩷. Then brush. Then hot sauce, wax and ice, then the ram and finally I had both shoes in me. After photo shoots they freed my arm again and told me to cum fully from the shoes no clit-and to do it to Mr imaginary. I grabbed the shoes and giggled oh my you’re so huge. My pussy is stretching to….ahhhh. Yes push that huge cock deeper. Even deeper. Yes. Slam me like a $5 whore (someone commented your not even that much so you must wanna be railed)-my master stepped in and made me beg-again as he slid shoes in and almost out slowly over and over I’ll slam you when you tell me this is shareable “. Oh my Mr imaginary I had no idea you didn’t know that of course it is. Next thing I know I’m being fucked fucked via shoes. I came. They laughed. Most left. Owners and girl who did my hair and finally showed me 😊. She did I’m a slut color and cut lol. Perfect. Then she laughs. How’d you like part one? At that they put my ball gag in my walker cuffs and collar and nothing but my stilettos. They explain I’m the shops entertainment as it’s dominatrix wens and I’m the display and will be eating clits all day as it’s part of the price. I did as ordered. Then the laid me in something-attached my cuffs. I heard it before I felt it - the wand. A heavy duty wand. They all laugh the closer it gets to my clit. “You are officially owned by your master and mistress. Even if they break up-you’ll be shared. Do as you’re instructed.” Menthol smelling something passed me—-then my very exposed cunt was doused in that and hot sauce galore and filled with ice with a wand shoved in to hold them there….the end next…..
#lesbian sex#use me however you want#free use fantasy#free use slvt#ropeplay#praise k!nk#bd/sm rope#cnc sub#roped girl#girls kissing#Usedbywomenandmen
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The Aftermath || LN4 {5}
Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando tries to protect you from the world after going public but there’s only so much he can hide. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, bj, fluff, social media au elements, internet trolls WC: 2.5k
F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue
Lando shivered beneath your touch and his throat bobbed as he swallowed down whatever words he might have said before your lips parted and you took him in your mouth.
A satisfied groan rumbled in his chest as his jaw fell slack and his eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy at depth he reached in your throat and he released a shuddering breath when you pressed your tongue flat against him. Your own sound of approval escaped as you pulled back and traced the thick vein that ran the length of his shaft before tasting the bead of precum that formed at his tip.
God, you wanted more.
But he had other ideas as his thumb brushed your cheek and caught the tear that had escaped while you fought your gag reflex. “C’mere,” he rasped huskily, pulling you onto his lap as he sat up. “I want you, Y/N.”
“You have me,” you promised as you straddled his hips and draped your arms around his neck.
He shook his head, droplets of water flicking from the ends of the strands. “I want to be yours too, together, you and me.” Your brows pinched together in confusion and he started to retreat, shifting you off him. “Forget I said anything, shit.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist and locked your ankles so he couldn’t escape. “Lando, you're already mine and I'm already yours,” you stated as you pressed your forehead to his and brushed nose against his. “But if you want to make it official, will you be my boyfriend?”
His smile was mischievous and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before you poked him in the ribs and a laugh ruptured his chest. “Yes, yes. Ow,” he chuckled as he rubbed his ribs. “Of course I will.”
The room spun as Lando wrapped an arm around your back, his large hand protecting your head as he swapped places and you found yourself looking up into his eyes, the golden flames of the candles reflecting in them. “Now that my confidence has been healed, it’s my turn.”
The water on the floor had cooled beneath you but it did nothing to stop the heat that flushed over your skin when he looked at you the way he did. His smile never wavered as he trailed sweet kisses down your body, the soft stubble on his chin leaving goosebumps in its wake.
You finally got your bubble bath as the sun through the last of the storm clouds in time for it to set over the city.
Your body and your mind was more relaxed than it had been in over a year and you were still in a state of bliss from the multiple orgasms Lando had given you, first with his tongue and then when your bodies had finally united. The throb in your core was testament to the ache you knew you would feel in the morning but it was worth the nirvana you had found in his arms.
“Don’t move,” Lando ordered as he darted out of the bathroom, only to return quickly with his phone pointed your way. “Beautiful.”
You plucked his phone from his fingers with a smile after seeing the image he captured and placed it on the table beside the roses he had delivered. “Come join me.”
“If I do that we won’t make it to the surprise in time,” he said as he shook his head with a small smile and knelt down beside the bath instead, catching bubbles on his fingertips. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk about...”
You sat up straighter at the ominous tone and pulled your knees to your chest. “That doesn’t bode well.”
He tried to give you a reassuring smile but it didn’t reach his eyes and his fingers still idly popped the lavender scented bubbles. “I want you to come to Silverstone, with me.”
“I…Lando,” you sighed and dropped your chin to your knees. “I don’t think I can, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”
He nodded sadly and you hated being the reason for that, but he didn’t push it any further which you were grateful for. You felt terrible as he left the room and you tried to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, you could go to the race with him without it shattering you completely.
You were about to call out to him but he was already returning to his spot beside the bath and holding out a plate of food to share. You picked at a small serve of bruschetta but you couldn’t stomach actually eating it and eventually Lando took it back, placing the plate on the floor.
“Alright, talk to me,” he softly urged.
“I can’t make any promises,” you started to say as you busied your fingers with the bubbles floating across the surface. “But I’ll try to come with you on Friday.” Already his face lit up like a child at Christmas and you took his hand to bring his focus back to you. “We’ll start with free practice but if it’s too much I’ll have to go.”
“Of course, love, thank you for even considering it.” He leaned over the bath, tipping your chin back so he could capture your lips with a slow kiss. “As much as I could watch you prune up all night, we should start getting ready.”
“I’m not a prune,” you argued until you looked at your fingers and clenched your fist shut as you saw the pads of your fingers all wrinkled.
He grabbed one of the only towels left dry after he had attempted mopping up the floor with the rest and held it open for you to step into before wrapping it tight around you. “Gotcha, all mine now,” he whispered darkly before peppering your face with kisses as you laughed and tried to wriggle free.
“Let me go, you weirdo!”
“Never!” He picked you up and carried you out of the room before he sat on the bed and fell back with you still wrapped in his arms. “I’m keeping you.”
“You’re keeping me from getting ready.”
“Fiiiine,” he groaned dramatically before reluctantly releasing you. “First I have to let you go and then you go and put clothes on. So unfair.”
“You’re the one who planned to go out,” you pointed out with a smirk as you went to the closet and grabbed some matching lace underwear, a pair of jeans, a casual shirt before stealing a fresh hoodie from his side. “You’re going to run out of these at this rate.”
He propped himself up among the pillows and watched you laying the clothes out on the bed. “I think you underestimate my hoodie addiction, I have dozens more at home.”
He made no move to get his own clothes as he lay comfortably in just a pair of boxers. “Are you going to get dressed?”
“I’m just enjoying the view.” He seemed to remind himself of something as he held up a finger for you not to move before dashing into the bathroom and retrieving his phone. “Can I post a picture of you?”
You looked down at yourself, half naked with just the matching lace bra and panty set. “Not like this,” you gasped.
“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I was thinking of this one.”
You crawled onto the bed and saw he had darkened the photo in the bathroom and the foreground had been unfocused so the cityscape could be seen. It was hard to see who it even was in the picture unless you knew who it was you were looking for in the features and overall it was a pretty scene with the roses and bubble bath.
“Are you soft launching us?” you smirked.
“Is that a yes?” he shot back as he opened Instagram with a daring eyebrow cocked up.
You grinned at him as you backed away to finish getting dressed. “Yes, Lando.”
“Can I look yet?” you asked as you placed your hands over Lando’s.
“Soon,” he promised as he guided you along the path. “Another step down.”
It felt like he had been leading you in a maze as you went down a few steps then turned and turned again before finding a few more steps. The only thing you noticed changing was the music that was growing louder.
“Are we going to a gig?”
“Patience, love.” The metal groan of a door creaked before the orchestral music swelled and his hands slipped down to your waist to guide you inside the building before the door closed behind you. “Open your eyes.”
Laser lights danced across the walls as you stepped inside the industrial style building and saw dozens of statues lined up around the walls. Suddenly the music shifted and the statues came to life, sending you jumping back into Lando’s arms as he chuckled in your ear.
This was the living art show you had wanted to see in Monaco a year ago but you hadn’t been able to go. You had tried to bring yourself to leave the house but the ticket was a double pass and there hadn’t been anyone else you wanted to take at that point.
“How did you know?” you asked as the artwork unfolded before your eyes.
“René,” Lando answered softly, watching you watch them.
It was mesmerising with the lights and the music amplifying the experience but it was the way the Lando looked at you that was the most enthralling part of it all. With his hands on your waist it was only natural to drape your arms over his shoulder and the music did the rest as you began to sway together in the surreal moment. You should have been paying attention to the art but he held you captivated until the music grew quiet and the statues returned to their pedestals.
“This is just the beginning, baby,” he said as he stepped back and the lights switched from dancing lasers to dozens of neon arrows leading you to the next exhibition. “Ready to experience it all?”
The words went deeper than just this moment and you laced your fingers with his, taking a step towards the archway that had opened and the red glow beyond with a nod. “I’m ready.”
You thought the night couldn’t get any better when you left the art show with a dozen amazing pictures and the memories to last a lifetime. But since the weather had cleared up you decided to keep the night going with a walk back to the hotel and passed a carnival set up in Potters Fields Park. Your face lit up at the lights and sounds so Lando had quickly crossed the road to buy two entrance tickets with a promise to win the biggest stuffed animal there was.
“You paid the guy off last time, remember?” you reminded him.
Every time there was a carnival anywhere near the races you would talk René into taking you and he almost always brought Lando too, which often came with Max in tow. The three of them would turn every game into a competition from the ring toss to the balloon darts and your ribs would ache from all the laughter.
“Can’t say I recall that,” he lied terribly. “But it sounds like a genius plan to me.”
It was nearly midnight when you finally made it back to the hotel with a teddy that was almost the same size as you slung proudly over Lando’s shoulders. He had not stopped grinning since he won it in your name and promised he would buy a plane ticket for it if it was too large to fit in the suitcases.
A smile had become a permanent fixture on your face and your cheeks were starting to ache from overuse as you collapsed onto the bed and kicked your shoes off. “Thank you, Lan,” you said, turning to him as he lay down on his side and pulled you closer. “I had fun tonight.”
“Me too, Y/N.” You snuggled into his embrace as he kissed your temple and pulled his phone out to check the messages and emails he had received but his body stiffened at what he saw. He couldn’t turn the screen away fast enough and your breath left your lungs in a rush as you read the comment under the picture he had uploaded.
'Ick, his teammate, really?' 'Bet they were banging before his body was even cold, or behind his back.' 'She’s using Lando to get back in the paddock.' 'Lando could have anyone but he goes for another driver’s sloppy seconds.'
“Forget about them, love. They don’t know what they are talking about,” he stated with conviction as he tipped your head back to see the tears forming in your eyes. “You knew René better than anyone else, you know he would’ve hated seeing you unhappy. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, and loved.”
He wiped away the stray tear that escaped before determination set on his face and he opened Instagram once again, only this time he was creating a new post with a photo that one of the dancers at the art show had taken in the neon exhibit.
“What are you doing?” you asked as your stomach sank at the thought of putting another post at the mercy of those cruel people.
“Calling them out,” Lando growled angrily, before his voice softened and he cupped your jaw so you couldn’t pull away. “No one makes my girl cry and thinks that it is okay. You hear me? It’s not okay.”
You couldn’t watch as he posted the new picture with a heartfelt message.
You thought that would be the end but then he went through every hurtful comment on the earlier post and reported the users for abuse. If there was one thing Lando took seriously it was mental health and he knew he couldn’t leave those comments for you to see - even if it hurt to read through them all.
The saving grace was the supportive comments that far outweighed the negative ones. Those were the ones he lingered on when his heart grew heavy and he felt like throwing his phone from the 50th floor.
“Lando?” you asked sleepily as your eyes fluttered shut and your lashes kissed your cheeks. “Put the phone away.”
“Soon, love, I’m almost done.”
You forced your tired eyes open and took the phone from his hand, locking the screen before leaning over him to place it on the bedside table. You looked down at him as the city lights left a faint glow in the room enough to make out his handsome features. “There will be more, there always is.” You traced the shape of his jaw with your thumb as you dipped your head to his to kiss him softly. “Nothing can hurt more than what I have already endured, so please don’t waste your time on those people. You can’t protect me from everything.”
His arm curled around your waist before he flipped you on your back, his lips hovering over yours with a promise. “I can try.”
Click here for part six.
Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut
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