#Steel Smart System

[steelsmartsystem]

Smarter CFS Floor Framing Design for Reliable & Sustainable Structures

Choosing the right CFS Floor Framing Design is key to achieving strong, efficient, and long-lasting structures. Cold-formed steel (CFS) offers unmatched advantages, including high strength-to-weight ratio, fire resistance, and ease of installation. This modern framing solution minimizes material waste, reduces construction time, and supports sustainability efforts. Whether you're working on a commercial high-rise, industrial warehouse, or residential home, precision-engineered CFS framing ensures stability and cost-effectiveness. Make the shift to smarter, safer, and more efficient building methods. Learn more with Steel Smart System today!

[srjsteel]

Why Bar Dowels Are Becoming the Standard for Smart Construction

Bar dowel technology has silently revolutionized creation practices throughout the globe, reworking how structural engineers approach concrete connections. This apparently easy innovation grants profound upgrades in structural integrity, construction performance, and long-term performance—factors that have positioned these specialized structures as the favored preference for forward-questioning developers and developers.

The construction industry's evolution closer to smarter, extra-efficient strategies has extended adoption of these specialized connectors. Progressive developers recognize that while traditional approaches served adequately in the past, modern building demands require sophisticated solutions that Bar Dowel systems uniquely provide.

How These Connectors Transform Structural Performance

Structural engineers increasingly specify these connections because they allow controlled movement between concrete elements while maintaining load transfer capabilities. This dual functionality prevents common structural issues like cracking and spalling that plague conventional rigid connections. For manufacturers of TMT Steel, this trend represents both a challenge and an opportunity—requiring adaptation to new installation methods while opening markets for specialty products.

When concrete elements expand, contract, or settle differently, rigid connections create stress concentration points that eventually fail. Bar Dowel systems, by contrast, accommodate this movement while maintaining structural continuity. This performance advantage explains why leading TMT Bars producers have developed specialized variants specifically designed for dowel applications.

Efficiency Gains in Modern Construction

Construction timelines benefit tremendously from this approach. Traditional connection methods often involve:

Complex formwork

Extensive rebar tying

Careful staging that slows progress

Bar Dowel systems simplify these processes dramatically, allowing for faster concrete placement and reducing labor requirements. The resulting efficiency gains have prompted many a Steel Pipe Company to develop complementary products designed to work seamlessly with these connections.

Superior Durability and Longevity Benefits

Concrete structures utilizing properly designed systems demonstrate superior durability in challenging environments, including:

Seismic zones

Areas with extreme temperature variations

Locations with significant settlement concerns

This performance advantage translates directly to reduced maintenance costs and extended service life—factors increasingly important to project owners concerned with lifetime value rather than just initial construction costs.

Material Supply Chain Evolution

Material suppliers—particularly TMT Bars manufacturers—have recognized this shift and responded with specialized product lines. These purpose-designed bars feature precise dimensional tolerances and specialized coatings that enhance performance in dowel applications.

The distribution network has likewise adapted to this market evolution. The typical Steel Pipe Company now stocks specialized sleeve components that complement Bar Dowel installations, creating valuable cross-selling opportunities. This system approach to construction materials distribution has strengthened relationships between suppliers and contractors.

Regulatory Support and Market Projections

Building codes increasingly recognize these systems as preferred solutions for specific structural applications, particularly in infrastructure projects where long-term performance is paramount. This regulatory endorsement provides additional confidence for specifiers considering these systems.

Market projections suggest double-digit growth for specialized TMT Bars designed for dowel applications over the next five years. This growth opportunity has prompted forward-thinking producers to invest in manufacturing capabilities specifically tailored to these products.

Strategic Positioning for Material Suppliers

The competitive landscape for construction materials suppliers continues shifting in response to these trends. Progressive Steel Pipe Company leaders have expanded product portfolios to include complementary components that enhance Bar Dowel performance, creating valuable system solutions rather than merely supplying commodity products.

As creation practices preserve evolving in the direction of smarter, more efficient strategies, Bar Dowel generation stands as a prime instance of how seemingly incremental improvements can power extensive enhancements in building performance, performance, and sturdiness. For cloth providers all through the construction surroundings, this evolution represents a substantial possibility to broaden specialized merchandise that supplies premium fees while addressing proper marketplace wishes.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Your Ghost Knows Me

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: On a mission to dismantle a Hydra base, Bucky’s activation codes are triggered. And what does he do without a kill order?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mind control; non-consensual behavior (not sexual but bodily autonomy themes); possessive behavior; gun violence (implied, not graphic); threats of violence; emotional manipulation (unintentional); PTSD; trauma responses; forced proximity; mentions of Bucky’s past; Hydra

Author’s Note: I'll never get tired of a possessive Winter Soldier!! Honestly, I should write about him more often. Anyway, this absolutely iconic request is from my sweet dear!! Thank you so much, and I hope you'll enjoy ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

There is always something quiet about Bucky when he looks at you before the mission begins. Quiet in the way thunder is quiet just before the crack. As if he is holding something inside himself too loud for the world.

You always say his name and he would look at you like he’s afraid to blink.

You don’t think you’re supposed to notice the way he hovers at your side. You’re not supposed to feel his shadow, stitched to your steps. But you do. You always do. Because Bucky Barnes does not know how to stay subtle. Not with you. Not when he thinks you might not make it out of this alive.

Your mission is to break into an old Hydra base with heat still humming through the walls and ghosts still hanging from the rafters.

The team drops in like rain. Controlled chaos. Clint on the left flank. Sam from above. Steve on the right flank. Nat somewhere in the dark.

You are light-footed and fast and smart and alive. Bucky stays behind you. Always behind you. Watching your six. He never lets you fall.

And you get the proof of this for the thousandth time when he throws his arm out and grabs your vest to yank you back hard enough to make you gasp. Your heart stutters in your throat. You stumble, twist, spin - and crash into him.

There was a tripwire. You almost walked into it. And Bucky saw. He sees everything.

“You okay?” He breathes, voice low, not quite touching worry but brushing the edges of it.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “Thanks.”

He nods. Says nothing. Keeps moving.

You press forward into the maze of concrete and metal that is the Hydra base, gun raised, heart playing the drum in your ribs.

Bucky slows.

You glance over at him. “What is it?”

He stares at a rusted door, barely ajar. A soft static pulses from within, like an old radio dying in slow motion. The sound crawls down your spine. Your skin prickles.

“Bucky,” you start, reaching for him. “Let’s move.”

But he’s already walking toward that door with narrowed eyes.

The room is dark. Cold. Frost is on the walls like a memory that won’t let go. A machine in the corner makes low noises. Wires twitch on the floor like veins ripped from a corpse. The air stinks of metal and mildew and something old. Something wrong.

And then it speaks. A voice, thick with static, seeps out of the machine. A voice you don’t understand. Not really. You can’t make out the words, but you know them. You know what they mean.

“Желание. Ржавый.”

You spin around, heart rushing up to your ears, calling his name, but it’s too late.

“Семнадцать. Рассвет.”

Bucky stands frozen.

Stone. Steel. Silence.

His face is slack. That haunted stillness takes over.

He isn’t gone. But he isn’t Bucky anymore.

“Печь.”

His eyes go distant. Flat. His face cracks into something you’ve only seen in nightmares. No fury. No fear. Just absence.

“Доброкачественный.”

“No,” you breathe. Your heart forgets how to beat. “Bucky,” you basically yell at him. Nobody even knew there were still functioning systems here. But they’d been waiting. Planning.

“Девять.”

“Bucky please snap out of this.” You know it’s useless. You don’t know why you say it.

“Возвращение на родину.“

Your hand trembles around the grip of your weapon as you force yourself to jump out of the shock your limbs are locked in. You raise your arm and aim. You pull the trigger. One.

“Один.”

Two.

“Грузовой вагон.”

Three.

Four times.

The machine sparks. Cracks. Screams. A dozen red lights blink and die like stars going out. The voice cuts out, perhaps wanting to give a command, a final breath of Russian strangled by silence. And it slams into the room like a body.

For a heartbeat, for a breath, you think it’s over.

You hope it’s over.

But his name dies on your tongue when you turn back to him.

Bucky doesn’t speak. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe like a man. He doesn’t look at you - he tracks you, the way a sniper does. As if you’re a piece of intel.

Sam’s voice crackles over the comms. “Hey. We heard something. Everything good over there?”

You can’t answer right away.

Your voice is lost.

Because Bucky Barnes is gone.

And the Winter Soldier is standing in his place.

It takes you a minute to explain your situation and you hear the tremor in Steve’s voice when he tells you they’re on their way.

You try to breathe around the panic growing like thorns in your chest.

You whisper his name, again and again, as if it’s a spell that might pull him back. But the Winter Soldier does not know your voice.

Does not know you.

And when Steve finally rounds the corner, face pale, shield up, Bucky growls.

Low. Subhuman. A warning without words.

“Woah, woah- easy,” Steve says, holding up a hand. He looks at you. “He’s- He’s not gone. We’ll fix this. We can bring him back.”

You don’t know how promising he tries to make this sound.

But Bucky shifts his body, in front of you.

He plants himself between you and everyone else, like a wall, like a weapon.

Like a threat.

No orders. No hesitation. Just instinct.

He scans Steve’s hands. Sam’s gun. Natasha’s eyes.

Every time someone even twitches in your direction, he angles his body tighter around you, metal hand flexing. His breathing is shallow. Sharp.

He has no words. No explanations. He doesn’t seem to need them.

You try to take a step forward, away from his back. He moves with you. You stop. So does he.

“Please,” you whisper. “Bucky. Come back.”

But he doesn’t flinch.

Not for the begging in your voice. Not for the heartbreak in your eyes.

But you know he doesn’t hear you. He only hears the ghosts in his blood. The machine in his brain. The purpose Hydra seared into his bones.

“Alright, this can’t-“ The moment Sam takes a step forward, Bucky moves.

He grabs you. Not roughly, not violently, but fully. As if the air between your bodies has never existed. As if he’s made of magnets and you’re the only thing that ever pulled him north.

His metal arm anchors around your waist, his other hand at your shoulder, your spine, your hip - everywhere, all at once. He places himself between you and the others again and makes sure to keep you there as if you are a holy thing. His breath is ragged. Feral.

“Bucky,” Steve tries. There is something pained in his tone. Also something warning. “Let her go.”

But he doesn’t listen.

Because there is nothing left to listen to.

No more commands. No more codes. No more voice in his ear.

So he seems to have written a new directive into his mind and that is you.

You are the mission now. You are the purpose, the protection, the last thing left when everything else burns.

His hand is wrapped around your wrist so tightly, it makes your breath hitch. But you don’t pull away. You can’t. There is something in his eyes. Something not Bucky but not nothing either.

Not the soldier.

Not the man.

Just this animal of loyalty. Of violence. Of need.

You try.

God, you try.

You speak to him in pieces. In whispers. In words coming from trembling lips and bruised hope.

“Bucky,” you plead.

Soft. Like maybe softness will do it. Like maybe he’ll come back to the sound of your voice wrapped in love instead of command.

But he doesn’t.

And he doesn’t let anyone near you.

Not Steve, who takes one careful step and ends up with a knife lodged in the floor in front of his foot.

Not Sam, who reaches out and gets a warning growl that raises the hairs on your arms.

Not Natasha, who tries to circle behind, quiet as a whisper - and is met with the barrel of Bucky’s gun aimed clean between her eyes.

You frantically call Bucky’s name.

“Hey- easy,” she says, voice low. “Nobody wants to harm your girl, Barnes.”

He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t care.

He tightens his grip on you, fingers locking around your arm like a shackle. You try to find a piece of Bucky still breathing in there.

But all you see is possession.

He steps back into the shadows, pulling you with him, shielding you with his body as if the world is trying to take you and he’s the last wall still standing.

No one sees you now.

Because he won’t let them.

He moves you behind crates. Walls. Corners. Shadows. Always putting something between you and them. Always hiding you. Not out of shame. Not out of fear.

Out of possession.

Out of protection.

Out of a command he gave himself.

You are a mission. A precious object. A singular order sculpted into the ruins of his memory.

You hear Steve’s heavy sigh. His quiet and deep voice. The pain in it. “We need to sedate him.”

The next thing you pick up is the click of a safety releasing.

Bucky’s gun is pointed and ready.

He would kill for you right now.

He would kill them.

All of them.

Within the blink of an eye.

For you.

“No,” you croak out, voice breaking. It feels wrong to call him Bucky. It feels wrong to call him Soldat. “Please don’t! Don’t do this!”

You don’t know if it’s something in your voice or something in your tense stance against his back, but he slowly lowers his gun, slowly turns his head to stare at you.

Empty.

Unreachable.

But somehow not cold.

And then his hand rises. Flesh fingers trace your jaw. So gently it nearly breaks you.

It’s not affection. It’s assessment.

He’s checking. For wounds. For weakness. For threats, you might be hiding beneath your skin.

You breathe as if forgetting how to.

You try to shift. Just a little. Just to look behind him. Just to meet Steve’s eyes, Sam’s, Natasha’s, Clint’s - who finally got his ass here as well.

But Bucky moves. Fast.

A hand around your chin. Tilting your face back toward him.

Eyes narrow. Jaw locks.

You know what it means.

He doesn’t want you to look at them.

He doesn’t want you to speak with them.

He doesn’t want you to think of them.

You are his now.

Because something in his mind burned the world down and left you standing in the wreckage, and he needs something to hold onto. Not just anything. Not just anyone. You.

You try again.

Whispers, again.

“I have to talk to them-”

He shakes his head. Once. Sharp. Final.

“No,” he growls. Not language. Not word. Just a sound scraped from somewhere too deep and too far gone.

You flinch and he feels it.

His grip grows stiff.

Your body goes still.

He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he doesn’t let you go.

You catch the glint of Steve’s shield out of the corner of your eye.

They haven’t moved in minutes.

They’re waiting.

They’re watching.

They don’t want to hurt him either. But they will if they have to.

“Don’t,” you murmur. “Don’t come closer. Don’t- don’t try to talk to me, he- he doesn’t want that.”

You hear Sam lower his weapon, just a hair. “We can’t leave you like this.”

You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to pull Bucky into your arms and shake him until something clicks and he remembers you. Remembers himself.

But the Winter Soldier only seems to be remembering his duty. Violence shaped into protection.

And right now, that protection looks like isolation.

You. Alone. Tucked behind crates and corners and silence and his broad shoulders.

You speak anyway. Because you have to. Because he’s in there somewhere. Because he might not hear the others, but maybe he can still hear you.

“Bucky,” you speak. Swallow. “They’re not the enemy.”

His hand twitches on your arm.

“They’re your friends.”

He tightens his grip.

“They’re my friends.”

He releases another deep and gravelly sound.

His body is tense, electric, fury held in the cage of his bones.

“Please,” you say. You hate the sound of your own voice now. You sound like you are shattering in slow motion. “You don’t have to protect me from them. You don’t- I’m not-”

You breathe out shakily.

Your lip trembles. Your eyes sting.

Because he’s looking at you as if he would kill the whole world to keep you safe. And he doesn’t even remember who you are.

You press your forehead to his chest. His body doesn’t move.

He’s breathing faster now. His pulse thrums under your cheek.

But he lets you stay there.

That has to be something.

Behind Bucky, someone whispers your name. Carefully. Cautiously. As though if they say it wrong you’ll be ripped out of this moment and Bucky will hunt them all down.

You lift your head.

Bucky sees it.

Sees the way your eyes pull toward Sam’s voice.

Sees the way you’re still trying to hold onto them. Still reaching.

He doesn’t like that.

He hates that.

His hand finds the back of your neck. He pulls you into him, hides your face in his chest. Your shoulders lock. His body shields you like a fortress of flesh and metal and confusion. As if your gaze is a window, and he is closing the shutters.

You are not theirs anymore.

And he will not let you be.

[opalblade]

𓂀 18+ PAC: YOUR STORY AS A FEMME FATALE .

༒︎ 𝟔 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒.

USE YOUR INTUITION TO PICK YOUR PILE.

CLOSE YOUR EYES, TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND EITHER LET A NUMBER FORM IN YOUR HEAD OR GO WITH YOUR GUT.

THIS IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! TAKE WHAT RESONATES, LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟏

CARDS 6 of swords, 4 of swords, knight of pentacles rx, 7 of wands, THE HIGH PRIESTESS, 4 of wands .

♟️ your story is one of abandonment, isolation and found family. it begins with you being forced to leave your home for a new, unfamiliar place. whether this is a new city, town, country or even a new continent is up to your own imagination. either way, you are decidedly a "newbie" and all alone, forcing you to grow a backbone, tough skin and figure out a way to survive. this is difficult as you do not have the many privileges others benefit from: money, family or even friends to rely on financially or emotionally. instead of waiting and praying for a saviour, you are forced to become your own provider.

♟️ the hardships you endure force you to erect several walls and hard boundaries around you that anyone would be hard pressed to even form a crack in. your street smarts not only enable you to survive but thrive, as you manage to climb from a lonely poor girl to a wealthy elite woman. through dubious means? sure. but if life has taught you anything, it's that the cards one is dealt are entirely unfair and you need to gamble and cheat your way to any semblance of success. and that's exactly what you do. you lie, cheat, gamble (and maybe even kill) your way to the top, forming strategic alliances and not worrying about who you betray or whose lives are ruined to get you there. these happen to be the tricks of the trade and it's not your fault that you happen to be better at playing the game than anybody else.

♟️ however you, like any main character, actually have depth and are not just a steel-clad, cold-hearted bitch (like your enemies describe you). some of the strategic alliances you form blossom into beautiful and genuine relationships that last lifetimes. you also try and balance the scales in such a corrupt system, building community wherever you go and offering protection to those less fortunate and most vulnerable to the most powerful. you become a figure of community in a shadowy, crime-ridden city — a place of refuge for people who are like you once were, when you had no-one.

EXAMPLES: selina kyle [the batman], vito corleone (not a woman, but still) [the godfather] .

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐

CARDS 10 of cups, 9 of cups, TEMPERANCE, 2 of cups, STRENGTH, 4 of wands, knight of pentacles .

🍷champagne, diamonds, cashmere and first-class plane rides. your life radiates luxury, you radiate luxury. draped in the most expensive fabrics and custom lingerie pieces, sultry aromas ooze off your glowing skin. it's not just your access to the best life has to offer that makes you irresistible and unique, but rather your unmatched self possession. you carry yourself with the confidence of a woman that is well-kept and practically worshipped. your hair is somehow always perfectly done, your makeup is precise and your outfits are tailored to your body.

🍷 the personification of privilege, you have clearly never seen a day of hard work in your life. your name carries with it a legacy that spans generations and continents, as blair waldorf said — "Generations of breeding and wealth had to come together to produce me. I have more in common with Marie Antoinette than with you." this same quote describes you to a T. you possess the same essence of ancient queens and princesses, the best courtesans and legendary muses.

🍷it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that you coast off your silver spoon upbringing, but you subvert all expectations. you never settle for less — some may call it greedy, but you simply have a desire to experience the best of the very best. socially, you are the queen bee and your influence even permeates the minds of those who consider themselves unable to be influenced. of course, the best of the best line up to court you. yes, i said court. why on earth would you settle for the bare minimum? an average date for you is a flight to a 6 star hotel on a romantic tropical island. someone would have to go above and beyond to catch your attention.... perhaps a crystal grand piano or a yacht in your name would suffice? after all, it's the least they could do for someone as exceptional as you.

EXAMPLES: naomi lapaglia [the wolf of wall street], blair waldorf [gossip girl], miranda kerr, serena van der woodsen [gossip girl], elvira hancock [scarface].

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟑

CARDS 10 of wands, 7 of pentacles, 3 of pentacles, king of pentacles, king of swords, 4 of swords rx .

👑 the world revolves around you. no... not in a delusional, "high self-confidence" way. you genuinely control the trajectory of the world socially, politically and economically. your intelligence, charm, strategy and diplomacy make any other world leaders crumble before you, your beauty is simply the cherry on top. the term "girlboss" doesn't even come close to what you are - you're a myth, akin to cleopatra, you sound mythical, but are somehow totally the real deal in the flesh!

👑 your intelligence is seductive. others are lured in by your sharp intellect, your smooth and charming words, your never-ending knowledge. it's as if you alter their brain chemistry much more effectively than any love potion or aphrodisiac could. your intelligence is sharp, cutting and inhuman. imagine if the intellect of light yagami and L from death note were fused with the greatest minds of the human race (think einstein and tesla) and put into your head. your intelligence puts AI to shame.

👑 you treat people, especially men, like chess pieces to be played with. you understand the cheat codes to life and you use them well. the girls that read "the 48 laws of power", "the art of seduction", "the art of war", worship machiavelli, and fervently watch thewizardliz's videos could only dream to possess as much stupifying charm and confidencr as you. the way you navigate social situations, manipulate people and play with them legitimately needs to be studied. you are so detached from caring and so detached from men that nothing can stop you. you know that men, unfortunately, control the world and so you use your charm and intellect to tip situations in your favour.

EXAMPLES: cleopatra, catherine tramell [basic instinct], queen of sheba, beth harmon [the queen's gambit] .

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟒

CARDS THE DEVIL, THE EMPEROR RX, THE LOVERS, TEMPERANCE, knight of pentacles, king of swords .

🩸you possess raw, tantalising seduction. it oozes out from your soul and seeps straight into the hearts and brains of your victims. yes, i say victims. like a succubus-turned-human, you hypnotise those attracted to you and drain their life force... like a vampire. your power is subtle yet undeniable, capable of rendering the strongest weak for you - nobody is immune.

🩸you weren't born cold and vampiric. life was immensely cruel to you and so you were forced to adopt this nature to survive. using others for your own benefit is your way of balancing the scales, of making sure you'll never be taken advantage of again, of making sure you'll never be rendered powerless. some may call you heartless, but you're simply making sure nobody will rip your warm, beating heart clean out of your body. it's all a complicated survival tatic and it's not supposed to make sense to anybody but yourself.

🩸 your natural enemy is the doe-eyed ingenue. the odette to your odile, the elena to your katherine, the needy to your jennifer. she manages to captivate everyone with her perfect innocence and rosy-eyed naïveté. however, you have a couple of tricks up your sleeve. after all, who can resist a sultry voice, beckoning bedroom eyes, and an aura that spells danger? you are a guilty pleasure personified and everyone wants a taste - to their own demise.

EXAMPLES: katherine pierce [the vampire diaries], amy dunne [gone girl], jennifer check [jennifer's body], odile [swan lake].

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟓

CARDS knight of swords, 3 of cups, 2 of swords, page of cups, 2 of pentacles, THE HERMIT .

🪽 the best way to describe you would be a cherubic babydoll. your expressive eyes and facial expressions, ooze raw emotion and sensitivity. you seem inexperienced or naïve, but you simply possess enough hope and warmth in your heart to melt any cynic. your lust for life makes you seem younger than your years, and your soul may have actually come out of the fountain of youth itself – your inner child thrives in your vivid (and some may say overactive) imagination.

🪽 despite your child-like whimsy, you have experienced this world as well. unfortunately, the cards that life hands out are not fair and so you have dealt with your fair share of struggles. sansa stark's quote "my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivy, to steel" may feel like it came from a story on your life. your innocence stripped away by cruelty and injustice, stripping you bare and leaving you raw, the only thing left being the walls you erected to protect yourself. pretending you're invincible and forcing past your own vulnerabilities may have tricked everyone else that you were unbreakable, but your heart is still as fragile as ever – like glass that is one touch away from shattering completely.

🪽 you have transformed into a diamond. the pressures left you hardened, yet crystallised. still possessing the same cherubic face, yet now with a stern expression of someone who has seen the best and worse the world has to offer. you have shed your downy grey feathers and traded them in for shadowy majestic wings. you are not to be underestimated due to your prior innocence – you are able to bring an entire city to its knees and you are able to command an entire audience. you are metamorphosis personified.

EXAMPLES: nancy callahan [sin city], nina sayers [black swan], daenerys targaryen [game of thrones], sansa stark [game of thrones].

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟔

CARDS knight of cups, 5 of wands, 7 of pentacles, 2 of swords, 3 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles .

🗡 carved out of steel, nourished by your own sweat and blood, sanctified by the tears of your enemies – your empire is built on revenge, toil and sheer discipline. nobody handles a sword or any bladed weapon, in fact, as well as you do. your backstory is a legend, almost mythical in nature, with several different variations and all telling of your traumatic beginnings that led to your slow and steady rise to the pinnacle of success. some say you began racking up your immense death toll from the age of three; some say you secretly controlled the underworld from fourteen, taking down entire empires from the shadows; some say you aren't even human and instead possess the spirit of some ancient warrior - reincarnated into our modern times with an archaic sense of discipline and sense of honour.

🗡 your moniker is whispered behind closed doors, in shadowy alleyways and in clandestine meetings held by secret agencies all over the world. most don't know your real name, and the ones who do are afraid to even think it - lest you suddenly appear around them like a supernatural horror film antagonist. your legend is older than you are, backdated to the world wars and even before, the same idea remaining - that your power extends beyond anything the human mind can imagine, that you secretly control all the goings-on geopolitically.

🗡 they say your presence is electrifying in all the worst ways. just like the weeping angels from doctor who, anyone that sees you is surely doomed. you are akin to a prehistoric predator that has remained unchanged for thousands of years, as the perfect invincible killing machine. the story is as such: you stalk your prey like a leopard to an antelope - by the time you have set your sights on them, they may as well be dead; then you playing with them like a cat plays with a mouse - catching them, letting them go, and repeating the cycle; at this point, they have some hope they will survive but it's misguided.. nobody ever survives once you have them in your grasp; when you finally kill them, it's more of a mercy killing than anything - especially after the torment you put them through. your style of slaughter is predacious and animalic - you are more like a sleek jaguar with blood dripping from its canines than a mere human being. you are an angel of death.

EXAMPLES: o-ren ishii [kill bill], beatrix kiddo [kill bill], natalia alianovna romanova [marvel comics].

[moonyslipstick]

Pole Position: Yours

Oscar Piastri was a lot of things—fast, focused, fiercely competitive. But subtle? Not so much. Especially not when it came to you.

You stood in the garage, tablet in hand, headset resting around your neck, and an expression that could both melt steel and command absolute obedience. The way you moved around the car—precise, efficient, confident—was a sight Oscar found almost too mesmerizing for race weekends.

And today, as always, you were in your element. Hair tucked behind your ears, a sharp glint in your eye as you double-checked the tyre degradation simulations. A brilliant, cunning tactician wrapped in fireproof beauty.

“You know,” Oscar said, leaning against the side of the car, “you make ‘fuel correction curves’ sound kind of… sexy.”

You didn’t even glance up. “That’s because they are, when you understand them. Which you don’t.”

Oscar grinned. “Ouch.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Piastri,” you said, tapping a few notes into the telemetry system. “I’m here to make sure you finish ahead of Lando.”

“And what if I want both?”

You paused, glancing at him now—eyes narrowing with amusement. “Both?”

He shrugged. “Pole position… and your approval.”

A faint blush touched your cheeks, but your voice was steady. “Focus on your corner entries. Then we’ll talk about approval.”

Oscar tilted his head, watching you as you walked away toward the pit wall, calling back instructions with effortless authority. God, you were impossible. Smart, assertive, unflinching under pressure��and yet, somehow, every time you pushed your headset up to rest on your head, Oscar’s brain short-circuited for just a second too long.

He’d always been good at driving at high speed. He just didn’t expect you to be the one thing he couldn’t steer around.

Later, after FP2, you were reviewing data on your tablet when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him.

“You were late on the throttle in Turn 10,” you said smoothly.

Oscar leaned closer, peering over your shoulder, voice low. “Maybe I was distracted.”

You glanced at him. He was very close.

“By what? The apex? The oversteer? Or the engineer in the headset?”

Oscar’s smile turned crooked. “Definitely the engineer.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin. “You know flirting doesn’t make your delta any faster, right?”

He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing your ear. “It might. Want to run some simulations and find out?”

Your breath caught just slightly—but you recovered fast. You always did.

You turned to face him, nose barely inches from his.

“You’ll have to earn that data access, Piastri.”

Oscar’s eyes flicked down to your lips, just for a heartbeat. “Challenge accepted.”

He backed away with a wink, helmet under one arm, leaving you standing there with your tablet, heart slightly off-beat, cheeks warm.

You exhaled slowly. Smart. Cunning. Beautiful. That’s what they called you. But Oscar Piastri?

He was dangerous in his own way.

Because when he looked at you like that—like you were the one thing in the world worth chasing—he almost made you forget every rule you ever wrote.

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Saving Steve Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - Steve Harrington has already saved your life, so it's time to return the favor. Little did you know that would feel a little less like an action movie and more like taking care of rowdy toddlers. Word Count - 2.1k Warnings - Language, Drugged up Steve and Robin, lots and lots of Dustin Henderson sass. Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

You loved your brother. Really and truly he was one of the best parts of your life. No matter what kind of mood you were in, you could always count on him to cheer you up. As much as you'd deny it to his face, you'd do anything for him, including maiming and murder.

Which was why you were trying your very best not to strangle him right now. 

Steve and Robin had been captured. They were being held by Russians, probably being tortured for information, and Dustin was arguing with Erica about being a nerd. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Dustin work on trying to stop the fans, seeming to take his sweet time, and not for the first time, you wished you were as smart as him. Maybe if you had been you would have thought of a way to save everyone. Maybe if you had been your friend wouldn’t have been captured. Maybe if you had been Steve wouldn’t be getting hurt right now. 

“You’re making me more nervous.” Dustin said, pulling you out of the spiral of your thoughts.

“Can you not go any faster? We’ve been here for like twenty minutes.” You said, your fingers tapping the handle of your weapon erratically. 

“We’ll save your loverboy. Calm down.” Erica said, rolling her eyes. 

“Gross!”

“Shut up.” You replied at the same time as Dustin. “I still don’t see what’s taking so long, can’t you just-”

“This is a very complex system! I can’t-”

You had enough. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea, but you shoved his hand out of the way, reached into the box, and yanked out every wire that you could get your hands on. You didn’t care what the consequences were anymore. You had to get to Steve and Robin. Now. 

“What the hell!” Dustin yelled.

You shushed him, watching as the fans that had been blocking your path slowed to a stop, and a pleased smile formed on your face. “Well,” you gripped your weapon in your hand once more. “Are you two coming or not?” You asked, not waiting on them to follow you as you started crawling. 

After a couple of seconds you heard them start moving behind you, and Erica spoke again. “Your sister’s crazier than you are.” 

Dustin groaned. “I know.” 

—————

“Okay, remember the plan. You two-”

“Stay out of the way while you save your man. Just go!” Erica said, urging you forward. The three of you had just watched everyone exit the room they were keeping Steve and Robin in after the alarms went off from the hole in their floor you had created. 

Steeling yourself, you gripped your weapon tighter, finger on the trigger. You didn’t feel scared though. No, all you felt was determined. Steve had saved your life multiple times. Now it was time to return the favor. You slammed the door open and didn’t think. All you saw was the man in the white coat leaning over the guy you were in love with, and you attacked. You pressed the trigger on your weapon and held it against the man’s chest, thinking of nothing but getting him away from Steve until he crumpled to the floor, either passed out or dead. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you shoved the thought of what you might have just done away. When you turned around to face Steve though, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any ounce of regret. “Oh, Steve,” you said, taking in his beat up face that was grinning at you. 

“Hey! I was just talking about you!” He said, and then let out a sigh. “God you’re pretty.” 

Normally a compliment like that, spoken with such sincerity, would have had your heart fluttering, but it was already doing that for a completely different reason as you reached down to untie him while Dustin got to work on Robin. “You guys have to get ready to run, okay?” You said, glancing from him to Robin who seemed to be in much better shape. 

“Whatever you say boss lady.” Robin replied, giving you a salute with her now free hand that caused Steve to immediately burst into giggles. 

You shared a glance with Dustin at their odd behavior, but he just shrugged. There was no time to try and figure it out anyway. You got the last of Steve’s ropes off and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. Apparently with more force than was necessary, because he stumbled forward, and you caught him around the waist before he could fall. Of course, that brought the two of you chest to chest. 

“Hi,” Steve said, looking down at you. The expression on his face was dopey and adoring, like he’d never seen anything better in his life than you right now. 

“Umm, hi?” You replied, breathless and confused. 

Before you could say anything else, your brother was yelling. “Let’s go!” 

Grabbing Steve’s hand, you tugged him out the door and back towards escape. Once everyone had made it to the cart, against your better judgement, you tossed Dustin the keys. “Get us out of here.” You said, ushering Robin and Steve into the back before following them. You didn’t like Dustin driving, but you wanted a better look at Steve’s injuries. “Robin, are you hurt anywhere?” You asked, squeezing in between the two of them and looking her over. 

“I’m peachy keen my dear friend. That’s the one with the messed up face.” She fake whispered, pointing at Steve. 

Steve looked at you with a slight panic in his eyes. “Is my face fucked up?” 

Oh yeah. It was fucked up all right. You had to fight the urge to touch it because Dustin was driving so erratically that you were afraid you’d end up poking him in the eye. Thankfully you were saved from the trouble of responding by Dustin taking such a sharp turn it sent you flying into his lap, your hands grabbing the cage on either side of his head while his wrapped around your waist. “Shit, Dustin!” You yelled. 

“Jeez, slow down,” Steve slurred, yet his hands made no effort to let you move. 

“Yeah, what is this, the Indy 500?” Robin asked. 

“It’s the Indy 300.” Steve corrected, looking at her over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t see her, but you assumed Robin was shaking her head. “No, dingus, it’s 500!” 

“It’s 300!” Steve insisted. 

“Let’s say, a million?” Robin replied, causing the both of them to burst into giggles. 

What the actual fuck. Something was seriously wrong with these two. You kept one hand hanging onto the cart while the other cupped the back of Steve’s head, trying to keep his head steady so you could get a good look at his face since it didn’t seem like he was letting you move any time soon. 

As soon as you touched Steve’s head, his giggles began to fade, and that doe eyed look came back. “You know I’ve dreamed about you like this.” He said to you. 

Your eyes widened at the admission, but you knew that was something you were going to have to unpack later. “Steve-”

“Dustin, watch out!” Erica yelled. 

Steve’s arms tightened around you, and your hand tried to protect the back of his head as much as you could as the cart crashed into barrels. The three of you let out almost simultaneous groans as your bodies collided with the back of the cart, and your frown deepened as you noticed Steve wincing. He was clearly in more pain than he was letting on. 

“Are you guys okay?” Dustin called from the front. 

“I’m never teaching you how to drive.” You grumbled, as Steve finally let you out of his arms. 

As soon as Dustin opened the back you held out a hand to both Robin and Steve, pulling them out more gently this time as you urged them both to the elevator. 

It took approximately five seconds to get everyone on the elevator, five more for the elevator to get going, and exactly ten before Steve and Robin started using a rolling cart like a surfboard. You just stood between Dustin and Erica looking at them in disbelief. “They seem drunk.” Erica said. 

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. What purpose would the Russians have to get them drunk?” 

“I’m not drunk! Check it out!” And it was at that moment that Steve flew off the cart and straight into the wall. 

“Wipeout!” Robin yelled, as they both dissolved into fits of laughter. 

“Sure that’s the guy you’re in love with?” Dustin asked you, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You shot your little brother a murderous look and a string of cuss words left your lips as you bent down next to Steve. A thought occurred to you, and you reached up to feel his forehead. “He’s burning up.” You said, even more panic starting to creep into your chest. 

“Awww, I think you’re really hot too.” Steve said, booping you on the nose. 

Heat flooded your cheeks as Dustin bent down next to you and pulled at the skin around Steve’s eye, ignoring his groans and swats to get him off. “His pupils are super dilated.” He said, glancing at you, then Erica. 

“Maybe he’s been drugged?” She suggested.

“Steve have you been drugged?” Dustin asked him. 

He let out a sigh. “How many times, dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve replied with a boop for Dustin’s nose as well. 

You reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand trying to get him to focus on you. “Steve, do you have any idea what they gave you? I need you to tell me.” 

“You’re not gonna die on us, are you?” Dustin asked. 

“Dustin!” You scolded. You didn’t even want to consider that possibility. 

“We all die, my strange little child friend.” Robin spoke up. “It’s just a matter of how . . . And when.” She continued, twirling her hair around her fingers as you all stared at her. 

“Muah!” The awkward silence was broken by Steve who had just pressed a loud kiss to your hand that was still holding his. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said, beaming up at you. 

“For the love of God-” Dustin grumbled. 

You chose to ignore him. “Okay, Steve, I need your car keys. They’re going to be coming for us when we get out of here.” 

“Ooh, can we make a stop at the food court?” Steve asked. 

“I’d kill for a hot dog on a stick.” Robin said. 

You thought it was hard keeping your patience with just Dustin and Erica. This was a whole other level. “We can stop and get whatever you want as soon as you give me your car keys.” You said like you were talking to a child. 

Your heart sank as soon as Steve frowned. “Uh oh. The car’s off the board.” 

“What?” Dustin said. 

“They took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys.” Steve said, pulling out the empty pockets of his uniform. “That’s a bummer right?” He said, and he and Robin started laughing again. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of course the one day you had taken a bus here. Your mind quickly went through the list of people you should call for help. Hopper was at the top, followed by Joyce, Nancy or Jonathan. Eddie’s name popped up for the briefest moment, but no. You refused to get him involved in any of this mess. “Do you have your walkie on you still?” You asked Dustin. 

“Of course.” 

“As soon as we get out of here, we’re going to try to find a quiet place and get the others. Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, I don’t care. Just someone with a car. You-” you pointed at Erica. “Are going to look after these two.” You told her, nodding your head in their direction. 

She groaned. “Why me?” 

“Because I’m the oldest, I’m in charge, and because I said so.” You told her. 

Erica rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” 

It was at that moment you felt a tug on your hand. You had forgotten Steve was still holding it. “Are you mad at me about the keys?” He said, and you couldn't help but be reminded of a little puppy, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. 

Giving him a small smile, you brought his own hand to your lips and kissed it this time. “You just risked your life for mine, and my brothers. I don’t think I can be mad at you for at least a week.” 

The kiss to his hand and your words wiped that frown off his face immediately, and he was back to smiling. “You promise?” 

You squeezed his hand. “Promise.”  

“You two are disgusting.” You heard Erica say. 

“Agreed.” Dustin added on. 

You just rolled your eyes.

[datgameguy]

God do I love how Ame and Suvi’s conflict is representative of the wider conflict between Witches and Wizards. (Long ass post incoming)

First lets look at the conflict in Chapter 2 about trusting Sly’s predictions of the conclave compared to other Citadel diviners. Witches are about community and connection. Ame trusted Sly because he had a connection to Wren, no other diviners in the Citadel had Wren’s trust that we know of just Sly. Wizards on the other hand put their faith in institutions and hierarchies. If Sly’s predictions are contradicted by those of several other diviners with more influence in the system, then his predictions should be discarded. (Also keep in mind that Sly was relegated to obscurity because his predictions were largely about things that didn’t line up with the Citadel’s priorities)

So we get tension at the end of Chapter 2 because Ame (through Wren) has a connection to and trusts more in Sly as an individual than the Citadel’s diviners as an institution. Suvi on the other hand hears Steel say that a group of diviners might have contrary evidence to what Sly predicted and instinctively puts her trust in the institution over the individual.

As a result Suvi and Steel dismiss Ame’s concerns about Sly’s predictions until Ame gets so worked up about the issue that she takes drastic action to return to Toma and prepare. Of course Suvi is right to be upset with the manor in which Ame leaves, it’s incredibly reckless and could have lead to several civilians (and Eursalon!!) getting injured or killed. However she fails to see her and Steel’s roles in pushing Ame into immediate action. Steel never took Ame seriously, and Suvi largely agreed with her.

And now we get to Episode 25 and Suvi’s scathing tirade against Ame.

A big theme of this arc seems to be how both Witches and Wizards look down on one another. Steel has her line about Witches seeing Wizards as “devious, paranoid, and buffoonish,” while Suvi blows up on Ame for “that smart ass tone about Wizards.”

And you know what they’re right. Witches do look down on Wizards.

I find myself wondering how Ame, Witch of the World’s Heart and the steward of humanity, could NOT look down on Wizards. The Wizards of the Citadel may be the brightest minds humanity has to offer, but they use those gifts to fuel a seemingly endless war with Ruve and Gouthmai (a war that threatens the lives and homes of Eursalon’s family). The Citadel seems to glorify violence (remember in Chapter 1 when Suvi proudly displayed that she spilled blood on behalf of the Citadel?). We also know from Kalaya that over time the Citadel went from what was essentially a huge university, to a homogeneous and militarized society.

Thats without even mentioning how Steel herself proves the Witches assessment of Wizards correct! Steel concocts a plan for Suvi that is devious in its intentions, paranoid in its secrecy, and buffoonish in how it could undermind the meeting of the Coven and cost both Ame and Suvi their lives if discovered. While Suvi is lecturing Ame on judging Wizards she has unknowingly agreed to a plan that proves all of her assumptions correct.

Suvi is probably my favorite character in this campaign. Aabria absolutely BRINGS IT every session. I’ve no doubt that many of the things listed in this post crossed her mind and were intentional. After all, the Citadel is a defining part of Suvi’s identity.

Wizards exist in a world that does not take them seriously. We’re 25 episodes in and spirits and witches alike have constantly referred to Wizards in pejorative terms. It’s not hard to see how someone like Suvi, born in the thick of the world of Wizards would cling to the Citadel as the lone institution of the world that advocates for Wizards. Because Suvi is a wizard she is preemptively judged by nearly every witch and spirit in the story. So of course she’ll judge them too.

After all, wouldn’t you?

[lyngracetalksnwritesnstuff]

Yilling Wei Sect AU Chapter Two

Wangji remembered the day his husband told him his name. 

It had been a few days since he’d arrived in the burial mounds. He was helping A-Yuan and A-Xiao harvest radishes when A-Xiao pulled on his robes to ask him a question. 

“A-Die,” He started. “Why do you call Baba ‘Yilling Patriarch’? That’s his outside name.” 

The Yilling Patriarch in question looked up at this; he was helping A-Qing nearby. 

“Ah, that’s right!” Wangji’s husband laughed. “My deepest apologies, Lan Wangji, you may call me Wei Wuxian.” 

The name sounded vaguely familiar, and Wangji wondered if the Yilling Patriarch had been a semi-famous rogue cultivator before entering the Burial Mounds. 

“Wei Wuxian,” He repeated, meeting his husband’s eyes. He had a small smattering of freckles, Wangji noticed. Most likely a result of being in the sun so often. 

The odd tension was broken when A-Xiao fell into the dirt with an “oomph,” startling Wangji and Wei Wuxian, who reached down to help the toddler to his feet. 

“A-Die, look!” A-Yuan exclaimed, holding up a radish he pulled all by himself. 

Wangji nodded sagely. “Well done. Very impressive.” He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he simply patted the child on the head and went back to helping A-Xiao with the crops. A-Yuan was beaming at the praise and Wangji felt his heart melt a little. He hoped he would still be able to be in their lives after Wei Wuxian found a partner he actually loved, who would obviously replace him. 

The days passed amicably. His brother was visiting in a few weeks, and Wangji had become adored by the children, something he wasn’t unhappy about. A-Xiao was the youngest, and very shy. He liked art and books, and constantly begged Wangji or Wei Wuxian to tell him a story before bed. A-Yuan was the middle child, only a few months older than A-Xiao, and was a bright, bubbly child. He followed Wei Wuxian around like a duckling following its mother and always had something very smart to say. A-Qing was the oldest, as well as the grumpiest. Wangji suspected she had not had a very good childhood, as she was very wary of strangers and fiercely protective of her younger brothers. She had taken the longest to warm up to Wangji, and called him Lan-Er-Gege for a few weeks before grudgingly switching to A-Die as she accepted his permanence in her family. 

As for Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu, Wangji couldn’t really tell what their opinion of him was. They were always perfectly nice and respectful to him, but only that. They wore their politeness like the mask Wei Wuxian uses; only allowing outsiders to see acceptable pieces, but not the whole. 

A-Qing adored them though, and would attempt anything they were doing, even if they warned her not to. She would never admit it to Xue Yang though, who she has something of a sibling rivalry with. 

Wangji was walking down a tunnel in the cave system Wei Wuxian had renovated to be a home when he heard Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu talking from inside a room. 

Maybe, Wangji thought. If I express interest in their interests, they’ll warm up to me a little more. It wasn’t as though he needed the connections, but he so desperately wanted to fit with Wei Wuxian’s family, for reasons unknown to himself. 

Steeling himself, Wangji opened the door, preparing to ask the teens what they were doing. 

He was met with the image of Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu standing over a corpse that had been delicately laid out on the kitchen table. There were several surgical incisions on it, and it seemed like Xue Yang was explaining the insides of the chest cavity to Mo Xuanyu, though Wangji couldn’t actually make out much, as everything sounded muffled, like he was underwater. He wanted to scream, to cry out in horror at the sight of this terrible scene that brought back memories of war, but couldn’t. It was almost like the Lan silencing spell had been used on himself. 

“Oh hello boys,” Wei Wuxian had walked into the room. Yes, surely he would do something about this, he would fix it. 

“Lan Wangji,” his husband frowned as he noticed him and seemed to actually take stock of the situation. “Oh. Oh no. A-Yang, A-Yu, put it away, Lan Wangji, breathe, come with me.” 

Wei Wuxian led Wangji down the hall into a different room away from the body. “Lan-Er-Gongzi. I need you to breathe with me. I promise you. A-Yu and A-Yang are not murderers, I’ve taken great precautions to ensure that. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for what you saw.” 

Wangji took back control of his breathing, trying to focus on Wei Wuxian’s voice. It was smooth and soothing, like silk. 

“Okay, are you mostly better now?” Wei Wuxian asked, still holding Wangji by the shoulders. 

Wangji nodded numbly. He needed to be fine. He should be fine. 

“Okay. Okay, good. I’m going to tell you what was going on just now, alright?” 

Wangji nodded again. 

“A while back, when I was first cleansing this place, we came across a group of fierce corpses who were part of a sect or cult that highly valued education and learning. They became fierce corpses because they couldn’t contribute to education after death. We compromised on a deal, that I would take all of their bodies—mind you there are several hundred of them—back to my village and use them as educational tools. Now Qing-Jie doesn’t have to rely on diagrams to give proper medical classes, and I can teach the basics and dangers of my cultivation path to everyone without having to use random unwilling bodies.”

“Why would you teach your cultivation path to everyone?” Was somehow the first thing that came out of Wangji’s mouth, despite his efforts to stop it. 

To his shock, Wei Wuxian laughed. “No, believe me, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I forbid my students from ever using it except in extreme cases, which is what I teach it for. In case of emergency where you don’t have access to spiritual energy or your golden core is melted, it is useful for self defense and the defense of others, and if they don’t know how to use it properly, they can hurt themselves or put them in worse danger.”

It was a heretical way of thinking, and he would’ve surely been punished for it in the cloud recesses. But Wangji was tired—too tired to argue against what was admittedly a very good point, so he simply nodded. 

“Now, I’m not going to ask why you freaked out just now.” Wei Wuxian said gently. “If you want to talk about it you can, but you don’t have to.” 

Wangji took another breath to regain his dignity. “I would prefer if we didn’t speak of this again.” He said, standing to take his leave. 

Wei Wuxian, thankfully, didn’t press the issue and allowed him to go. Wangji decided he needed toddler time and sought out A-Yuan and his siblings. 

“A-Die!” A-Xiao shrieked, appearing suddenly to hide behind Wangji’s robes. A-Yuan giggled and followed his brother, laughing and yelling as A-Qing chased him. 

“Rawr!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands above her head to imitate a monster. “I’m gonna getcha!” 

“A-Die save us!” A-Yuan begged, tugging on Wangji’s robes. He smiled indulgently and scooped up A-Qing as he had seen Wei Wuxian do many times before.

“You are vanquished,” He told her seriously, making her giggle and squirm to be free. 

“Lan-Qianbei,” Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang approached him tentatively. Wangji set A-Qing down and turned to face them. 

“We’re sorry we scared you,” Xue Yang muttered, though he genuinely looked sorry. 

“It was not your fault. Wei Wuxian told me how you came across those bodies. If I may, what were you doing?” Wangji asked. 

“Yang-Gege was teaching me basic medical anatomy. I enjoy drawing and I was having trouble configuring a sketch of a corpse that had been torn open, but I didn’t remember which organs went where.” Mo Xuanyu beamed as he recounted this. Wangji felt himself smile a little. He was grateful, at least, that these children had not grown up in the Cloud Recesses where their spirits would’ve been repressed in favor of unity and obedience. 

“Hmm,” Wangji nodded as Xuanyu began telling him of his latest artistic exploit. Xiongzhang would like him, he decided. He hoped they could meet when he visited. 

That visit came soon. Wangji was a little nervous, though he didn’t quite know why. He hadn’t been anxious in many years, especially about his brother. 

“Lan Zhongzhu,” Wei Wuxian bowed from beside Wangji as they greeted Xiongzhang. 

“Xiongzhang,” Wangji said, leading his brother into the Burial Mounds. 

“Wangji,” Xiongzhang smiled, exchanging pleasantries with Wangji’s husband and Wen Qing, who had come with them. 

“Hello Lan Zhongzhu,” Wen Qionglin smiled and waved from where he stood with the children, who all ran to their parents the moment they saw them. 

“Oh, hello,” Xiongzhang said, seeming surprised at the presence of children. “Who are these?” 

What Xiongzhang really meant was whose are these, but Wangji ignored that. 

“A-Qing, A-Yuan, and A-Xiao,” He told him, gesturing to each of the children.

A-Yuan frowned up at Xiongzhang. “Baba, up.” He commanded, reaching towards the sky and making cute little grabby hands. Wei Wuxian laughed, though he had his mask on now. He scooped a giggling A-Yuan into his arms, who then proceeded to inspect Xiongzhang with the most skeptical face Wangji has ever seen a toddler make. 

“Not A-Die.” A-Yuan frowned, looking at Xiongzhang with an expression so similar to Wangji’s normal resting face that he saw Wei Wuxian do a double take. 

Xiongzhang seemed surprised but delighted by the children. “No, I am his older brother.” He explained gently. 

“Does that make you our Bobo?” A-Qing asked warily. She had tucked herself by Wangji’s robes artfully, so it didn’t quite seem like she was clutching onto him, but Wangji could feel the nervous tug on his robes. 

“Yes, this is your Bobo,” Wangji nodded, picking A-Xiao up after he stumbled. A-Qing didn’t like to be carried, mostly because she had an aversion to touch, though less so with her family. 

“Lan-Zhongzhu,” Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang had come over to them, bowing respectfully to Xiongzhang. 

“Who are all of these children Wangji?” Xiongzhang asked brightly. 

“These are the Yilling-my-” Wangji struggled to find the correct words for what he wanted to express. 

“These are my children, Lan Zhongzhu,” Wei Wuxian cut in, seeing Wangji’s word trouble. “Lan a Wangji graciously adopted them after he met them. He is very good with children.” 

“And this is Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu, my students,” Wei Wuxian explained as well, patting the teenager’s heads. 

“Pleased to meet all of you. Thank you for taking such good care of my brother. He seems… happier here.” Xiongzhang said thoughtfully, bowing in return. 

“Xiongzhang,” Wangji hissed at his brother, embarrassed. 

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Awww, you don’t need to be embarrassed to like us, Lan Wangji, that’s the teenagers' jobs.” 

Wangji huffed, but didn’t refute, instead setting A-Xiao down to play with his siblings, who were already bored and running off to bother Meng Yao or Wen Qionglin. 

Xiongzhang chatted politely with Wen Qing and the teenagers, with whom he got along quite well. Wei Wuxian walked by Wangji’s side, talking aimlessly about some new idea he’d had the night before. It was actually quite an interesting concept: a compass that could detect the direction of resentful energy, and might be refined into determining different types and how much there was.

Before long, Xiongzhang, Wen Qing, Mo Xuanyu, and Xue Yang had stopped their conversation to listen to Wei Wuxian’s explanation for his invention. His husband was good at that, Wangji noticed. Making people pay attention to his ideas and thoughts, though he didn’t seem to do it intentionally.

“That would be quite a feat if you could pull it off, Yilling Patriarch,” Xiongzhang commented. “It would be highly sought after too. You could make quite a profit off of it.” 

Strangely enough, this made Wei a Wuxian frown. “Why should the goal be to make profit? I don’t want to get profit from this, I want to get use and progress that can help cultivators fight Yao and resentment better and cleaner.” 

Wangji nodded in agreement. Helping others should always be the main directive of cultivators everywhere. This had always been a strong belief of his, and he was often scornful when others claimed to be humble and helpful when all they did was fight for glory and praise. 

“Of course, Yilling Laozu, I apologize, I misspoke. It would aid our night hunts greatly, and surely save many.” Xiongzhang was quick to redirect his words, unused to dealing with honorable cultivators except on rare occasions like when he would visit Nie Mingjue or have tea with Jiang Yanli, who had formed an odd but welcome friendship with Wangji’s brother during the war.

Wei Wuxian led them to what he called the “Tea Room of our Many Guests” (jokingly, they never had guests) and sat them at a table where they conversed idly until Xiongzhang asked if he could speak to his brother alone to catch up. 

Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing obliged this and turned to leave. Wangji quietly sipped his tea, waiting for his brother to ask The Question.

"Are you truly happy here?"

There it was. Wangji knew it was coming; his brother was always worried for him. He didn't have many friends, if any at all, and didn't like interacting with others much, which concerned Xiongzhang, causing him to constantly ask him how he really felt about any mildly upsetting situation.

It was nice, Wangji supposed. Being cared for by a sibling who went out of their way to speak in a way so you didn't have to decipher the true meaning from their words. It could be a little stifling and condescending at times, but he knew his brother meant well.

"Mn," Wangji said in response, carefully placing his cup back on the table. "W—The Yilling Patriarch has been accommodating, and the children are delightful. Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang have started to warm up to me, and the others in the village are very welcoming."

"Only accommodating?" Xiongzhang asked, frowning.

"Xiongzhang," Wangji gave him a frown in return. "We were arranged to secure an alliance, he doesn't need to love me, or even care for me. He isn't cruel and that's all that matters."

"Do you care for him? Do you love him?" Xiongzhang pressed, creases appearing in his brow.

"No. I've only known him for a few weeks. He is kind and loves children, but that is not enough to create feelings from." This was partially a lie, as Wangji had grown fond of Wei Wuxian, but they weren't close enough for it to be anything more than that: vague fondness.

Xiongzhang pursed his lips but didn't push further, instead inquiring about the children and life at the village in general. He also asked about Meng Yao, with a sort of naive hopefulness in his voice, like he thought Meng Yao might return to the cultivation world with him. Wangji felt bad; Meng Yao had been his brother's friend, and still was, though the revelation that he'd been thrown into the Burial Mounds and no one had known still haunted Xiongzhang and Nie Mingjue.

Soon enough, Wei Wuxian reentered the room with his children in tow. A-Yuan beamed and ran to Wangji and Xiongzhang, plopping down on Wangji's lap and inspecting Xiongzhang closely.

"Why do you look like A-Die?" He asked bluntly, seeming not to have gotten over his earlier suspicion.

"I am his elder brother." Xiongzhang reminded him gently, smiling down at the child.

"No, Xiaoxiao is my brother, but we don't look alike. See? His hair isn't the same like yours'. Da-Jie has curlies and is a lot taller than us, too." A-Yuan insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

"Ah," Xiongzhang faltered, looking to Wei Wuxian for help, not knowing how to tell them that they weren't biologically related like Wangji and Xichen were.

"Some siblings look very similar, especially when they wear the same clothing, like Lan Wangji and Lan Zhongzhu do." Wei Wuxian smiled as he explained this, pointing out Wangji and Xiongzhang's robes.

A-Yuan nodded, sliding into Xiongzhang's lap and tugging on his hair ornaments.

"Ah, while you're here, Yilling Laozu," Xiongzhang started. "The other sects and I were wondering if you were going to attend the next Discussion Conference. It's being held in Gusu this year."

Wei Wuxian frowned at that. "I'll have to discuss it with my people." People being Wen Qing, Wen Qionglin, and Meng Yao.

Xiongzhang smiled graciously. "Just think about it. We'd love seeing you there, all of you."

The rest of Xichen's visit went uneventfully, and soon it was time for him to leave. Wangji enjoyed seeing his brother, but was also curious to see if they would be participating in the Discussion Conference.

"Well?" Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu poked their heads out from behind a curtain from where they'd apparently been eavesdropping.

"Well, what?" Wei Wuxian was unfazed by this, moving to clean the table and clear the dishes.

"Are we going? To the Discussion Conference?" Mo Xuanyu asked hopefully.

"Oh, that. No." Wei Wuxian answered, dishes clattering in his hands as he put them away.

"What?" Xue Yang complained.

"Yeah, hang on, Wei Wuxian," Wen Qing frowned. "This could be an opportunity to show that we don't mean harm to the other sects."

"Yeah, and that would be great, but I don't have a sect." Wei Wuxian corrected, shaking out the tablecloth with vigor.

"Wei-Xiong," Meng Yao sighed. "You lead a group of roughly two hundred people, about a third of whom are cultivators. I think that's the definition of a sect."

"Yes, two hundred people who came here to escape from sect politics." Wei Wuxian pointed out, taking a cloth to wipe down the table. It seemed an unnecessary amount of cleaning to Wangji, but he didn't comment.

"Not all of them," Wen Qing argued. "Some of us were thrown in here, and would be glad to accompany you. A modest show of disciples wouldn't be that hard to find."

Wei Wuxian sighed. "What do you think, Lan Wangji?"

Wangji felt a thrill at his name on Wei Wuxian's lips that he pointedly ignored. "I don't think it could hurt to show the sects you're more than a group thriving off demonic cultivation."

"You're supposed to be on my side," Wei Wuxian complained, though there was no ire behind it.

"Well, can we go?" Mo Xuanyu was bouncing on the balls of his heels with excitement.

Wei Wuxian frowned and looked like he was about to say no, but Wangji stepped in.

"It may be beneficial to show that we have children here as well who are promising cultivators. Some of the sect leaders are truly... dishonorable, but most of the main ones will think twice about attacking a place they know holds innocent children." He said tentatively, and was rewarded with big, beaming smiles from Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu, who then turned back to Wei Wuxian.

"Ugh," Wei Wuxian dragged a hand over his face. "Fine. Only if you promise to be perfectly well-behaved young masters, though."

"We promise!" Mo Xuanyu exclaimed, running off with Xue Yang.

Well, that had decided it, Wangji supposed. They were going to the Discussion Conference.

Hooray! Another one! Sorry this took so long, I've been visiting family this week, so I haven't had much time to write, but I'll have more now, so expect an update every two to three days or so. I'll post this chapter on AO3 tomorrow, I'm tired lol. Hope you enjoyed!

Ao3

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

[lamprophonia]

》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《

masterlist.

yan!jock x gn!reader: introduction. 1273 words. reader referred to as 'you'. cw for general yandere behavior.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.

elijah steele is the best goddamn actor in your school.

the theatre kids could learn from him, honestly, because there is no way in hell anyone else could have convincingly pulled off what he did: pose as the nicest, most helpful and kind student in the entirety of the sorry shithole that is eastview high for four years straight.

to literally everyone, elijah is so sweet it's almost vomit inducing. the school's golden boy — smart, nice, strong. best player on the football team, co-captain of the swim team, and part of the basketball team for good measure, helpful, always cheery, and he got good grades.

even amongst his peers, he was always considered the most straight-edge one; still, he was pretty much universally liked. he was genuinely friends with everyone, never judging or turning anyone away.

what's not to love?

well, probably the fact that all of that is a lie, an ever on-going act. a carefully crafted persona, custom made to hide the fact elijah steele is a colossal prick.

it's honestly almost too easy for him. help teachers out here and there, talk to the right people, go to the right parties, and play on some teams, and boom, the entirety of eastview wrapped around your finger. he's made high school a game for himself, and he has been winning for four years straight.

elijah's obsession with you didn't kick in right away. he saw you and was... eh, rather neutral. he decided you were pretty enough, and homecoming or some other stupid dance he didn't actually care about was coming up, so he needed a date to look good. you were just a pawn, after all, no different from anyone else. an accessory — good-looking and non-threatening enough.

no, the obsession started when you rejected him.

worse than reject him: you saw through the finely crafted veil he's always putting on — through the smile that's as fake as it is charming, the tone of voice that's almost a bit too nice — you saw through it all, and didn't hesitate to let him know.

and oh.

it hurt.

with a few words and an unimpressed look, without even realizing it, you broke elijah's game. you weren't playing along. and hey, he might be a prick, but he's a prick with feelings. a lot of very conflicting feelings, as it turns out; he's dealt with rejection before, but never when it came to relationships.

he probably should have seen the hurt he felt when you rejected him as a sign of what was coming, that being the growing obsession he can practically feel developing. you made him feel something other than smug superiority and mild annoyance. it wasn't anything pleasant, sure, but it was new. the week after that little encounter of yours, you were literally the only thing he could think about.

at first, it was a mixed bag. elijah was confused, weirdly hurt — he discovered he didn't like feeling either of those much — and angry. mostly angry. that was the only emotion he was really familiar with of those three, so he thought he would be able to use it pretty easily. he does football after all, he'd just tackle whatever poor sods that were unfortunate enough to be going up against him in practice and get it all out of his system. easy, right?

it wasn't easy.

he nearly dislocated a guy's shoulder before realizing that his usual method for dealing with his feelings — channeling them into brute force — wasn't working, which only made him more confused, which in turn only made him angrier. so used to being in control, elijah didn't know what to do with himself for the first few days.

fortunately for him and the rest of the eastview football players, his anger, hurt, and confusion subsided after maybe a week and a half, giving way to another unfamiliar, but much more welcome emotion: fascination.

you still occupied his thoughts constantly, but he finally got a break from the all-consuming contempt he felt. instead, he regarded you with intrigue, a curiosity. it was then he decided he had to learn more; you were an obstacle, a challenge. another part of the game.

he just had to figure out how to beat you.

in some strange way, elijah was excited. this was going to be hard, sure, but his mind was already hard at work, and he was sure it would eventually be rewarding.

and hey, most importantly, this was new! his rage turned to pure goddamn delight at the idea of someone who finally isn't drooling all over him. it's so fun! like a specimen for him to study, aren't you, darling? finally, he has to work for someone's favour.

once elijah comes to this... decision? realization? he gets started pretty much immediately. he knows now that the overly sugarcoated golden boy persona isn't going to work for you. he's going to need a new strategy, and he's giddy to get to work on it.

with negative hesitation, he starts stalking you. honestly, he probably starts stalking you before he actually buckles down and starts trying to win you over; at some point in the bafflement that comes with you not immediately falling for him, he just starts to follow you around from a distance, almost absent-mindedly making notes on your schedule, your friends, class mates, teachers... he decides to double down after that, though, deciding that if he's serious about beating you, he's going to have to up his game.

that's when he starts actually following you home, taking note of your family and your behavior outside of school.

the second thing he starts doing is shadowing you outside of stalking. that meaning, he starts sitting with you at lunch, making friends with your friends, switches classes to have them with you, and joins your extracurriculars; and he does so with the most smug, shit-eating grin on his face.

he starts talking to you as if you were one of his friends, and even though you knew that elijah was probably less nice than he seemed at first glance, you didn't realize just how starkly different his real personality is from the persona he puts on.

elijah starts to treat you more genuinely, in a way. he talks shit about his friends to you, bitches freely about all his classes and coaches. it's a distinction that would feel sweet, if not for the cognitive dissonance that comes with watching him be all smiles with someone right after he told you he hates them.

because here's the thing — now that elijah knows you're not fooled by the overly sweet and helpful guy he pretends to be, that his polite golden boy act won't work on you like it does with everyone else; now, he can stop pretending.

it's freeing. hell, it's almost more fun that way.

he wants to win with all of his cards out on the table. every nice, kind he does to make you like him will be colored by that tension, that dissonance, that confusion.

of course, elijah would never admit it, but slowly, as he makes friends with you, his obsession with you turns romantic. his intrigue turns to sincere care and affection. he doesn't realize it until he sees someone flirting with you — or worse, you flirting with someone — and jealousy hits him like a fucking brick.

he's left to collect himself, once again feeling hurt, angry, and confused at his own thoughts. he didn't even like you. you were supposed to be just a game, a challenge, an obstacle.

what the fuck was happening?

[steelsmartsystem]

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[shocked-collar]

We’ve got Ren, we’ve got Law… Now could we get advice for writing Strade? Thank you in advance!!! Love your writing so much!!! :33 <3

YOU GUYS ARE LITERALLY GONNA MAKE ME EXPLODE.

erm. cough. ung.

im actually not that. happy or confident in the way i write strade. idk what it is, so,,,, take this one with,, a LOT more than a grain of salt.

AGAIN, OBVIOUS DISCLAIMER, I'm not Gato and only she truly knows her characters and I am just throwing out my personal interpretation.

Strade, unlike Ren and Lawrence doesn't have many rules at all. In fact, he only has three, MAYBE four when I write him.

First one being that he's impulsive and does what he wants when he wants. It really is just that simple for him. He has preferences though, so that means he's predictable if you know him and therefore less terrifying. He can also be easily swayed into a different direction, but his mind can change just as quickly.

Second one is that he's very, very smart, but not intelligent. He's so incredibly egotistical and prideful that thinking of flaws in his system isn't even an idea to him. He would know this structure is flawless! He built it! Additionally, Strade's often too caught up in the moment to actually check on your restraints, but it's not exactly hard to miss them either. It's up to fate, essentially. This goes for your wounds as well! Good luck!

Third rule is dedicated to Strade's ego. He values his sense of self above all else. He'll do anything to anyone and will try pretty much anything once, unless it puts him in a submissive or small position. Embarrassment is a feeling that man can NOT stomach. It makes him flee as soon as he possibly can- though embarrassing him is not easy to do as his pride is stronger than a steel wall.

And I said MAYBE four rules because this one can be included in the first one, but- Strade acts on impulse. Whatever he wants he gets, and that is sometimes something kind. He can be kind. Absolutely not in large amounts and it's not common, but it can happen! Sometimes he gets fuzzy and feels his sad little captive needs a shower, or perhaps a sweet treat to raise those spirits. Aside from treating his captives, he's also a pretty sweet guy when out and about. Does favors for his neighbors because he has the skills and likes the validation. He also gets off on being a good person in the eyes of strangers because he knows that they don't know what happens at home.

It's all about moods. Strade doesn't have some secret dark-side, it's all the same dude. Like when I sit down to draw vs sit down to write, I'm still me, I'm just writing or drawing. This is his ideology. That being said, Strade likes to live as one whole unit when he has a captive unless he's in a specific mood to be a big bad guy. He'll come down and ask how you're feeling sometimes. He'll bring a plate just to sit with you and complain about his day, or fucking Janice from the store, thinking she gets ALL the baby-pink yarn. He doesn't even knit, he just knew she was hogging it all so he took a skein. You wanna skein of baby-pink yarn??? Boom, you have one now. I'd say he's a pretty decent guy when you don't have his target on your back, which makes it all so much sadder.

Furthermore, he almost never feels bad about his actions, but there is a single night perhaps once every year where he'll stare at his ceiling wondering if he can be fixed. It is very quickly snuffed out by his fucking NEED to defend himself TO himself, but the seed is planted there nonetheless. What's the point of living if you're not enjoying the gift of life? It's not a privilege, it's a right, and if you wasted yours by finding yourself in his basement, oh-fucking-well. That's on you.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #12

March 29-April 5 2024

President Biden united with Senator Bernie Sanders at the White House to review Democratic efforts to bring down drug prices. President Biden touted his Administration’s capping the price of insulin for seniors at $35 a month and capping the price of  prescription drugs for seniors at $2,000 a year. Biden hopes to expand both to all Americans through legislation next year with a Democratic congress. The President also praised Senator Sanders' efforts as chair of the Senate Health Committee which has lead to major drug manufacturers capping the price of inhalers at $35 a month. “Bernie, you and I have been fighting this for 25 years,” Biden said “Finally, finally we beat Big Pharma. Finally.”

The White House gave an update on its actions around the Francis Scott Key Bridge disaster. The federal government working with state and local governments hope to have enough of the remains of the bridge cleared to partially reopen the Port of Baltimore by the end of the month and have the port working normally by May. The Administration has already released $60 million in emergency money toward rebuilding and promises the federal government will cover the cost. The Department of Labor has released $3.5 million for Dislocated Worker Grants and plans up to $25 million to cover lost wages. The Small Business Administration is offering $2 million in emergency loans to affected small businesses. The Administration is working with business and labor unions to keep workers at work and cover lost wages.

Vice-President Harris and EPA Administrator Michael Regan announced $20 billion to help finance tens of thousands of climate and clean energy projects across the country. The kinds of projects that will be financed through this project include distributed clean power generation and storage, net-zero retrofits of homes and small businesses, and zero-emission transportation. 70% of the funds, $14 billion, will be invested in low-income and disadvantaged communities. The project is part of a public private partnership so for every 1 dollar of federal money, private companies have promised 7 dollars of investment, bring the total to $150 billion for ongoing financing of climate and clean energy projects for years to come.

The Department of Transportation announced $20.5 billion in investments in public transportation. This represents the largest single investment in public transit by the federal government in history. The money will go to improving and expanding subways, light rail, buses, and ferry systems across America. The DoT hopes to use the funds to in particular expand and improve options for public transport for people with disabilities and seniors.

The Departments of Energy and The Treasury announced $4 billion in tax credits for businesses investing in clean energy, critical materials recycling, and Industrial decarbonization. The credits till go toward 100 projects across 35 states. 67% of the credits ($2.7 billion) will go to clean energy, wind, solar, nuclear, clean hydrogen, as well as updates to grids, better batter storage, and investments in electric vehicles. 20% ($800 million) will go to to recycling things like lithium-ion batteries, and 13% ($500 million) to decarbonization in industries like automotive manufacturing, and iron and steel.

The Department of Agriculture announced $1.5 Billion in investments in climate-smart agriculture. USDA plans to support over 180,000 farms representing 225 million acres in the next 5 years move toward more climate friendly agriculture. 40% of the project is reserved for disadvantaged communities, in line with the Biden Administrations standard for climate investment. $100 million has been reserved for projects in Tribal Communities.

The Department of the Interior approved the New England Wind offshore wind project. To be located off Martha’s Vineyard the New England project represents the 8th such off shore wind project approved by the Biden administration. Taken together these projects will generate 10 gigawatts of totally clean energy that can power 4 million homes. The Administration's climate goals call for 30 gigawatts of off shore wind power by 2030. The New England Wind project itself is expected to generate 2,600 megawatts of electricity, enough to power more than 900,000 homes in the New England area.

The Department of the Interior announced $320 Million for tribal water infrastructure. Interior also announced $244 million to deal with legacy pollution from mining in the State of Pennsylvania, as well as $25 million to protect wetlands in Arizona and $19 million to put solar panels over irrigation canals in California, Oregon and Utah. While the Department of Energy announced $27 million for 40 projects by state, local and tribal governments to combat climate change

[catmask]

different districts in the city could have different pokemon types 🤔 the factory district could be where steel types are found

:0 THATS SMART... actually, considering its coastal there would probably be caves right??

so there could be a specific factory sector where electric, fire and steel types could be found, where a cave system could give dark, fighting and rock types

poison unfortunately would probably be reserved to somewhere like the waste facility or sewer areas...

the difficult types to work in of course are ghost and psychic, though just because there are specific zones doesnt mean there wouldnt be any cross-typing in them either

for example, pokemon like staryu, dwebble and psyduck would appear at the beach - even though dwebble is a rock/bug type, its still a hermit crab -

and then pokemon like cottonee, ribombee and bonsly would appear in the garden - again, even though bonsly is a rock type, it probably would like a community garden way more than a cave system

the types are a general rule of thumb, but the pokemon placements would be more based off an interactive ecosystem and what makes 'most sense' in universe too

[raileurta]

The tfp kids were some of the first things I created in GL2, and it's been a few months since then and I have gotten much better. So here's my updated version of their designs/story.

Also fyi before I forget this is not what I would actually have them be in the show if I had written it. This just self indulgent takes on the characters. Let me know if you want to see how I would have written the show.

Miko

Age: 17

Pronouns: Uses any.

Likes: Skateboarding, drawing, slash monkey, kemonomimi, horror movies, fighting, her friends, and monster trucks.

Dislikes: School, conformation, bullies, and authority.

Description: Miko is a full blooded Japanese exchange student that came for America’s music, art, and to free themselves from his overly strict parents. She's quite energetic and finds it hard to sit still. So to help rid herself of her extra energy he'll practice kickboxing or parkour around town. While she may not act it she is actually intelligent. Miko is also quite the music and language prodigy, easily being able to learn them. He just hates the rigid school system and doesn't care for homework. Miko doesn't have many friends as most are put off by their strange personality and or scared of her. If you do become their friend though Miko is very loyal and will be your ride or die to the end.

Miko is a force to be reckoned with so watch out Decepticons, they're coming for you!

Raf

Age: 12.5;

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Coding, his friends, studying, snakes, robots, math, science, cats, school, chocolate, and nature.

Dislikes: Yelling, pity, scary movies, being alone, hospitals, and dogs.

Description: Raf is a young techno genius that was born with quite a few health problems. He is the second youngest out of his many siblings, five to be exact. Since his parents are always busy with work and Raf’s other siblings, he tends to be forgotten a lot. He doesn't let that get him down though (most of the time) and is quite a cheery kid. He puts his smarts to good use and has skipped four grades already while also taking some college classes. While he likes science and math his real passion is coding along with robotics. He dreams of one day opening his own tech company.

He might be a sweet kid but don't underestimate him. Raf could hack circles around even among some of Cybertronian’s elite.

Jack

Age: 16

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Motorcycles, girls, family, social media, and his friends.

Dislikes: Risks, seeing his friends hurt, and bullying.

Description: Jack is quite an average guy all things considered; he's not overly smart or a great fighter but he is quite the strategist and knows how to deal with people. Jack helps bring out the strengths in Miko and Raf and how to make them use it the most effectively. If he is trained properly he could become quite the leader. He lives with only his Mom, Jack’s dad having passed away a long time ago. He does every he can to help support his mom. While yes he feels she can be too overprotective or a bit embarrassing at times he loves his mom and wants to lessen her burden as much as he can. The reason he even got a job in the first place was to help her out with the bills.

Watch out for our very own human prime! He won't hesitate to sick his friends on those deserving.

Explanation undercut

Miko is still my favorite out of the trio and I will continue to show blatant favoritism. I learned much much more into the punk aesthetic because I think it's perfect for her personality. While I did like how colourful her old design was from a character design perspective it wasn't really unified or fit there enough.

Anyways she has some big ol stomping boots now that are definitely steel tipped. (Ouch man) They give them around 4-5 inches and make her the same height as Jack when wearing them. She also has knee pads and a shoulder pad. Well because skating and I wanted her to have armor without it being armor. If that makes sense? Miko also has horns partly since she likes kemonomimi but mostly because he's a “daredevil.” Miko's skateboard is Bulkhead themed, of course no explanation needed there. I tried to do some messy makeup since they give off that vibe.

I'm a sucker for the black people with white hair design. Plus I thought Raf kinda being (fictional) albino would play into Raf being ill. When something is wrong with you you're more likely to have more problems. For him I kept it generally similar to the last design just made more cohesive. He still has that nerdy school boy vibe and stuff. He also has a wrist brace now since someone told me how bad canes are for it so I wanted him to have some extra support to help.

If you look closely, his bag has a bumblebee on it.

Jack's design also didn't change that much; the main thing is his eyes are now blue. I thought it would be a nice nod to how since he's a human prime that his eyes should be autobot blue. Plus it fits the color scheme better. His gloves are leather and arcree themed. Yeah nothing to say much, as he also didn't change a lot. 🤷

Edit: Forgot to include the updated irl me design.

[junkdrawerfan]

And so we continue! Part Two:

Previous || Next

Robin II (1991)

Tim Drake vs. The Joker! I can only assume they created this set of comics to prove that Tim Drake is better than Jason.

AHHH! Finally I get to see some examples of Normal-90s-High-School-Boy (TM) Tim Drake lol! I am so excited to see Tim as this like "TOTALLY NORMAL NERDY RELATABLE BOY" even though that gets stripped away over time. Having read some modern comics, Tim Drake is NOT a normal boy and considering some of the hijinks I've heard about I refuse to believe he was ever a Normal Boy.

As part of his relatability he plays DC's version of D&D. But also he's got a way cooler fit & hair compared to his equally nerdy friends. God your shonen protag vibes are showing, Timmy!

Maybe I am gushing too much but this is such a fun civillian dynamic to have! Why don't I see this in fanfics!! Tim who is being courted by the popular crowd and refusing them. Fuck peer pressure Timmy! I know this is 9th grade. I am sure his high school experience evolves but still... I have ideas now for fics!

He does like coffee!

Hmmm.... don't love that. I heard about this aspect of Tim's character. Gonna keep my eye on this thread.

So I guess people don't realize there are multiple robins huh? Thats fun!

I know stories are happening in between Robin I and Robin II in the Batman & Detective Comics series where Tim is working with Batman. And both Robin I and Robin II are fairly early in Tim's run, but it is interesting that the boy who volunteered, who insisted that Batman take him on is so filled with self doubt. It gives an interesting characterization of Tim. Tim Drake is a boy who doubts himself but can't stomach not trying anyway. Or maybe...Tim Drake is a boy with a gut of steel and a heart full of fear.

Alfred is really holding it down! I love his relationship with Tim. He is Tim's mentor just like Bruce. <3

Ah Tim! You little GENIUS! Bruce is out of town and Tim is afraid the Joker will realize the Batman isn't there to keep things inline. So he makes a hologram of Bruce to scare small time criminals and keep the Myth of Batman going! What a smart cookie! He's truly the Robin with The Plan!

Aw man, the hologram fell apart and Joker realized Tim isn't Jason. What will happen next!!

Politicians such and these old geezers suck a lot. Learning more about the political system and the cops in gotham, Gordon doesn't really strike me as a model cop -- especially considering modern standards. He's very much that 90s cowboy of a cop. Obviously, a victim of the time period. Thats why i maintain the only decent rewrite of Gordon I want is a Gordon who was a former Internal Affaris investigator who witched to officer just so he could become a Commandor who pours most of the budget into Internal Affairs to get rid of corruption in the GDPC and reform the cops!

He and Buffy should meet! I think they'd have a lot to bond over.

Dick where are you! Your little brother needs you! For real though its interesting to me that Joker is around and Batman is out of town and neither Alfred or Tim are like "We should call Dick to help so Robin is facing the Joker alone." Of course i know its to get the Timmy vs Joker show down we want and prove Tim can outsmart the Joker! Like comics are always ready to manufactor that drama. But taking it at face value, how poor is Dick and Bruce's relationship in the beginning of Tim's time as Robin that Tim doesn't think he can rely on Dick despite admiring Dick and Dick helping Alfred convince Bruce to keep Tim as Robin in Batman #442!

Woo! He beats the Joker in the end. It takes a lot out of him but his plan comes together and he wins! So proud of you Boy Wonder!!!

Robin III (1992):

Okay we've skipped some time ahead (note to self go back and figure out when Tim's Dad woke up!) and Timmy is back with the Drake's, shit is going down in gotham with gang wars galore and he's struggling to balance that Superhero-Civilian lifestyle

I get why people write Jack Drake as jealous of how close Tim and Bruce are in fanfics.

The Drakes being neighbors means we get cool shit like this:

Why isn't this in more fanfics!! Thats cocol as hell!

WOOO! King Snake is back in town!!

Also Tim has lied to Bruce in like every comic I've read about him except his intro and Robin II (where he couldn't lie to Bruce because Bruce was out of town lolololol). Tim you king

OOOO! I didn't realize this plot happened! Thats awesome! Again WHERE ARE THE FANFICS!

Fucking Teenages Man! Even when they know the right answer, they don't do it!!

Okay thats enough for this run. I will continue in part 3!! I am excited to get to Robin 4 :D

[emmitthechosenonesblog]

Y’all have waited very patiently for my slow a— to post so here ya go-

(Origin stories and backgrounds are coming soon so here’s some “how the turtles met each character” stories 4 u)

“I don’t see how this is necessary.” The soft shell turtle grumbled, his tail flicking back and forth with underlying annoyance. “Aw c’mon, Dontron, it’ll be fun! Just imagine it: a whole day of facials, pedicures, lounging by the pool. I thought you loved all that stuff!” Leo exclaimed, slinging an arm over Donnie’s shoulder.

Donnie swatted his hand away, rolling his eyes. Leo was far too excited in his opinion. He thought it was a great idea to being Donnie along to his spa day, saying that he didn’t “get out of the house enough.” Truth be told, Leo brought him along so he could hack into the resorts security system so they wouldn’t have to pay.

“I only like that stuff when I’m not busy. And in case you didn’t notice, ‘Nardo, I am VERY busy. Not only do I have to fix the turtle tank from our last mission, but I also have to add some updates to the-“

“Ahhhbupbupbup- just be zen, bro. Chillaxxx~” Leo pressed a finger up to Donnie’s mouth, a grin plastered on his face as he teased his brother. Donnie sputtered at the sudden intrusion, smacking his hand away once again. “Zen? You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, Leonardo, you and your zen can kiss. My. A-“

“Look out!”

Before Donnie had any time to respond, a flash of white and purple soars past his eyes, knocking him onto the cold stone ground. He groaned at the sudden impact,

“S-Sorry! I let this little fella out of his cage. Didn’t think he’d bolt the first chance he’d get.” The girl exclaimed, sitting up and holding the small mouse with white fur in the palm of her hands

Donatellos eyes soon adjusted after being knocked down, widening when he saw the girl with purple skin. She had no idea what she was doing, did she? A light blush spread across his cheeks, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I let him out for one second and he’s already driving me nuts! I swear one of these days I’m gonna- oh.”

A blush ran across the moth girl's cheeks as well. She was sitting on him. Straddling him. She gulped, her breath shaky as she looked down at him. “O-oh…Hi…” she whispered shyly, a sheepish smile running across her face

"Uhm...Hi.." Donnie whispered back, a nervous and flustered look plastered on his face. The girl took a second before realizing she was still on him, sliding off and standing up. "D-Damn it, sorry! I-I didn't see you-" She rubbed her cheek, a bruise already beginning to form there thanks to the tumble they both took. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I'm Lilian. Lilian Sanchez. Again, I'm sorry about...well, falling on you, I suppose."

Donnie looked her up and down, noticing her shy demeanor. He huffed out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding, standing up. That's when he realized just how short Lilian was. He cleared his throat, holding out his hand for her to shake. "It's alright. No harm done. I'm Donnie."

Lilian's face lit up when she saw how calm he'd gotten, happy he wasn't angry. She giggled softly, shaking his hand. "Donnie, huh? That's a pretty name! Oooo, what's that gauntlet do? Is your favorite color purple? What'cha doing here? Is that a battle shell or something on your back-" At this point, Lilian was buzzing. She flapped around him, wings fluttering as they lifted her off the ground slightly. Donnie blinked up at her with surprise. Nobody had ever been this interested in his work before. So curious. He chuckled softly, with a proud smirk as he blushed in return. "Well, as you can see, my fluttering friend...'

Lilian would be lying if she said she wasn't completely enamored of this man. He was so smart and interesting that it was hard not to be practically buzzing with excitement. The two sat down together, talking about his inventions and his likes and dislikes. He was just so...him. In the end, she handed him her number, a big old smile on her face. Donnie wouldn't be lying if he said she was adorable.

He was perfect.

Perfect in her eyes.

(Epilogue)

"Dude, who was that cutie you were talking to? The moth girl?" Leo asked as the two walked home, striding through the sewers with renewed fervor. Donatello shrugged, fiddling with the piece of paper with Lilian's number on it. The first girl to ever give him their number. Well, besides April, of course. "Some girl called Lilian Sanchez. She gave me her number. She was...excited to talk to me. Like, she didn't even know me and she was so happy to get to know me..."

After a long moment of silence, Leo perked up, eyes wide. "Wait, Lilian Sanchez? Dude, you talked to her and survived?" Donnie tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean, 'Survived?' "

"Donnie, her dad's dangerous. I'm surprised you were even allowed to talk to her." Leo said with surprise, stopping in his tracks to talk to his twin. Donnie stopped as well, a few paces ahead of him. "Lorenzo Sanchez?'

The end