#vips are being fed this year

[g1rlonthe3internet]

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OMG YALL😭

I just KNOW this album gon eat😝

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ conflict ] | sylus

— summary: whatever they have is cosmic. which is why you quietly bow out, thinking you never stood a chance. — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, obligatory club scene, alcohol consumption, unrequited feelings, jealousy, sisterly love, self-loathing, suggestive, stream of conciousness, not proofread, mdni — notes: thank you for reading! [ part 1 | part 3 ] — now playing: bad girls like you - tobii

—of course, by unwinding, you assumed Ms. Hunter meant the celebratory clink of whiskey glasses together, with something murky and vicious sloshing around inside. Something to take the edge off, to dull your senses, and to assuage the ache in your muscles where the painkillers couldn’t.

A club was the last place you expected to be after blowing an arms dealer and his men halfway to hell. 

Then again, you’re not complaining, swathed in the subdued glow of red strobe lights and fog. You’re in your element, surrounded by sweat-slicked bodies and people just trying to feel. 

The club reminds you of Lux, minus the cheap upholstery and subpar drinks. You’re at least 1,000 miles from Linkon, settled on some floating oasis in the middle of glistening aqua waters. You’ve barely had time to enjoy yourself, your trio hitting the ground running as soon as Sylus’ jet touched earth. You’ll be leaving in the morning, swept back into the lonely, glacial abyss of the N109.

So you dance like tomorrow isn’t promised. Like you’re performing onstage, garnering the lust and envy of those around you. You always do, the art of seduction practically ingrained in your DNA after using it to your advantage for so long. Years of luring men to their demise inhabit every sway of your hips, every roll of your body, every sultry curl of your lips.

Besides, being here is also a nice little distraction from the cacophony of your mind, replaced by good music thudding beneath your feet, and your cheeks aching with a tipsy smile. You grab the hunter’s hips. Bring her closer until your chests collide, and she’s wide-eyed with parted lips, unsure of what to do with her hands. 

“Relax,” you soothe, your voice slurry as you encourage her to sway. To loosen up. She’s stiff at first but catches your drift, letting you control her with a wonky grin as her wrists cross behind your neck. That’s more like it. 

You fed her a few drinks to ease her nerves—it was her idea to come here. And after the three of you cleaned up and rested at the hotel, she suggested it over dinner. You and Sylus traded looks, your faces bearing different degrees of amusement. Ms. Hunter babe isn’t much of a social butterfly, but the pair of you relented, figuring you could use the diversion.

You’re playing up her allure. Whispering praise against her bangs, encouraging her to release her inner sexy. 

He’s been watching her from the VIP section since you dragged her to the dance floor. Scarlet eyes peeling through the smog, tuned to her every move. You wish it were you he eyed like that, but you shove those green-eyed thoughts onto the backburner, dancing, grinding, laughing. Losing yourself to the music. You’re on a mission to get her boned tonight. Living vicariously through her, knowing that it’ll never be you he beds. At least one of you can end the night on a good note. 

The song slides into something sultry. Ms. Hunter slips out of your grip, a giggling mess, stumbling towards the red velour couch where Sylus sits. You watch her plop down beside him, the cocktails slackening her grace. You can’t make out what they’re saying when he angles closer to hand her a drink. But he’s wearing that customary tilt to his lips, sweeping some hair behind her ear, where he eases in to murmur something against the shell of it. Whatever he’s on about, it makes her laugh, and she playfully smacks the devastating stretch of skin peaking through the slit of his silky button-down. 

Your lips twitch, smile falters. Everything around you morphs into a Gaussian blur, the music muddled as what’s left of your senses home into the scene. You swallow against the swell of feelings burbling up when Sylus pulls her closer, a long arm slung around soft shoulders. They exchange a look before the hunter glances up, shaking you from your trance. She raises her glass to you in a quiet toast. As if to convey, I’m alright in case you were wondering. Of course, she is. Why wouldn’t she be when he handles her like glass, the fondness in his eyes as palpable as the bitterness scorching your throat?

Sylus’ gaze tracks to yours. You offer a quiet smirk with a tilted brow, tamping down your envy. Wearing that playful front once more, turning back towards the dance floor.

At least your plan is working, you muse, swallowed up by the crowd of writhing limbs and lust. She’s definitely going to get some tonight if the idle stir of his eyes whilst he painted a triangle between her lashes and lips is any gauge. You did your job. Well at that.

So why do you feel so shitty?

A virile arm snakes about your waist, siphoning your breath as it drags you against a hardened body. You tuck your inhibitions away as the stranger who grabbed you grins, dark hair sweeping over manicured brows. You let him guide you into a slow wind, grateful for the save.

And you’re utterly oblivious to red eyes scrutinizing the stranger’s hand as it splays against the space between your shoulder blades.

—

It’s quiet on the executive floor of the hotel. Then again, it’s a quarter to 2 AM, and you’re sure everyone occupying these rooms is sound asleep. So, you shush your hunter friend for the umpteenth time, stumbling beside her as she giggles drunkenly into your ear. 

You can’t help the crack of a smile, her arm slung about your shoulder as you guide her towards her room, and she throws her head back, singing something that makes her voice crack and you wince. 

“Quiet,” you chide, your intermingled voices bouncing off the walls. You must be quite the sight. Two barefoot beauties stumbling down the hall, trying to make sense of the world. 

The embossed letters of her room pan into view. She laughs as you cautiously frisk her for the keycard after propping her against the door. She’s a little worse for wear. You feel bad, having overdone it with the cocktails. Not your fault you could hold your liquor a little better than she could. So when Sylus left you to close out some “business,” as he so cryptically put it, it was up to you to ensure Ms. Hunter made it back to her room without a hair out of place. 

So much for her getting laid tonight. 

Finally, you procure the card. You swipe it, taking the hunter by the waist before she barrels in. Instinctively, her arms snake around your neck, and she stumbles into you, nearly knocking you off kilter. She’s all sloppy-grinned, the alcohol on her breath pushed into your nostrils. She blinks sluggishly at you, and you bite back a laugh. Never would you have imagined seeing Ms. Hunter, all prim and pretty and carefully constructed, looking like this. 

“You’re pretty, you know that?” she breathes, tapping your nose. You scoff, maneuvering yourself to herd her into her room. She carries on spewing nonsense as the pair of you toddle beneath the dim lighting of the room’s entryway. The king-sized bed slides into focus. You let her fall onto the mattress, steadying her before she can slide off. Her hair falls onto her face, a new onslaught of laughter dribbling from her lips.

You kneel to grab her ankles, almost losing your footing yourself. You might not be as trashed as she is, but you’re still a little loose-limbed. A little tipsy, teetering on that slurry edge, having tamped down your inebriation to play big sister. 

“You’re gorgeous,” she continues when you stand, positioning her legs on the bed as comfortably as you can. 

You tuck her beneath the heavy blanket, ignoring her nonsensical talk. Scoop dark tresses away from her face, beholding red-speckled cheeks and swollen lips. It’s no wonder Sylus fell for her. She’s a marvel, girl next door pretty. The heroine of a romcom, where you’re a sex symbol, molded to be used and envied rather than exalted. 

Ms. Hunter teeters in and out of sobriety, sleep beckoning to her with its ghostly croon. Before you depart, she speaks to you again, her voice abrasive with exhaustion.

“The prettiest girl around. No one could keep their eyes off you, not even Sylus. He was practically drooling. You see that?”

You stiffen, your hand closed around the glacial brass of the door handle. You cock your head towards your shoulder, something warm flushing over your skin. She talks a lot for someone under the influence. But it’s as if she’s read the inner turmoil coloring your mind, not like you do the best of jobs masking your feelings.

It wasn’t me he was drooling over, you want to say. It never would be. He’s too swept up in her. Their history, their past. You’re merely an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. Something disposable. Something pretty to further his agenda. Even if he was looking, it was probably to ensure you weren’t getting into trouble. 

He’d have a hell of a time finding someone on short notice to fill your shoes. His pretty little femme fatale. It just so happens you’re unconsciously grooming your replacement, treating her more like an ally than a rival.

You wait until her breaths even out. Until she’s sunken below the depths of unconsciousness before you slip out of her room, your chest heavy as if weighed down by an anvil and a bitter twist to your lips.

Before you can make your grand escape to your room to nurse your impending hangover, a familiar voice curls around the vowels of your name. Of course, he would have a room across from hers, and it is with bitter realization you look up at him from the floor, schooling your expression into one of indifference. 

Sylus leans against the doorframe, so very massive in comparison to it. You try to ignore what the playful cant to his lips does to you. How his pretty, scarlet-spun eyes dance when he studies you. Ignore how the tendons in his neck flex when he swallows, how his Adam’s apple bobs. The slither of tanned skin stretched over his pectorals calls to you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the need to touch. You stifle the feeling, barring your gaze from slinking lower. He’s devastating, and you don’t trust yourself not to make a move you’ll later regret right now.

“How is she?” he asks, the husky grit of his voice furling in your chest. Your heart sinks. Of course, he wouldn’t ask about you. You’re a big girl, more than capable of fending for yourself. To inquire about your status would be an insult according to him. You square your shoulders, sighing with that infuriatingly artificial smile to your lips.

“Hammered, but she’ll survive. She’s sleeping it off now.”

He snorts, shifting his weight between his feet. “Of course. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go out after the day we had.”

You nod, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—your pulse thrumming in your ears. Your throat constricting. You toy with your fingers, taking this time to dismiss yourself before you spout out some nonsense.

“Gonna go get some sleep myself. See you in the morning, bossman.”

“Need some help getting back to your room?”

You peer at him from your shoulder, eyes slightly widened, mouth open, working around words that refuse to come. Something indiscernible lurks in his gaze. It’s as if he’s searching. Looking for something, though you’re sure you’re mistaken. 

“I’m alright,” you say with a sticky laugh, starting down the hall towards your room. All the while, your nerves scream through your inebriation, and you squint when you reach the door around the corner, inwardly admonishing yourself for turning him down. 

A delusional part of you believes there was more to his offer than what was presented at surface level. But you were too stuck in your head to read between the lines. After all, Sylus would never settle for someone like you. Not when you’re mere costume jewelry in comparison to uncut gems. 

You throw yourself against the bed once you’re inside your room. Peer up at the ceiling, studying its texture until your vision slides into a vignette around the corners, and then you drift into the violet embrace of sleep, deciding to deal with this new swirl of feelings later.

preface | masterlist | rising action

[mclacedes]

Let Them See (LH44)

a/n: writing angst wasn't helping my depressed ass at all so here's a smutty thought :)

summary: in which lewis has a controversially young girlfriend, who he suddenly isn't afraid of showing around

warnings: suggestive content, dirty talk, age gap, kind of sick, friends-to-lovers, secret relationship

WC: 1.9k

Everyone knew your relationship with Lewis was byword impulsive and complicated—not because you wanted it to be, but because of the circumstances you were in.

The 16-year age gap between you and Lewis didn’t sit well with everyone, making discretion your only option. You hid away together, sneaking around like teenagers, leaning on each other in any four-walled space. You lost count of how many times you and Lewis went to the rented villa on Lake Como, being able to take bites off each other everywhere possible.

You’d lost track of how many times you’d escaped to the rented villa on Lake Como, stealing moments to lose yourselves in each other.

And you liked it that way. The secrecy, the privacy—you’d been the one to insist on it.

You first met Lewis when you were 22, and he was 38. It was 2023, and your connection had been instant. You became best friends, growing closer with each passing day. On your 23rd birthday, he’d gifted you 23 of your favorite books, each one holding a handwritten note.

Now, at 24, with him at 40, the age gap felt striking, unavoidable. Yet, there was something about it that thrilled you, made your pulse race, your mind whirl, and your body ache with a want you couldn’t quite explain.

Now, it was all speculation for the fans and entertainment for the other drivers, who relished watching you and Lewis attempt to keep your composure in front of the cameras. Every stolen glance and lingering touch fed the rumors, the intrigue, the tension.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, you couldn’t care less about the cameras or what anyone thought.

It was December 7th, 2025—the night of the final race of the season. The night Lewis cemented his legacy, securing his eighth world championship and becoming the most decorated driver in Formula 1 history. The long-awaited eighth had finally arrived, and the weight of it, the joy of it, was almost too much to contain.

Everyone was at the afterparty—everyone except Charles, who had been Lewis’s fiercest competitor throughout the season. They’d gone head-to-head in countless races, but Charles ultimately finished third in the championship, with Lando getting closer and closer to the so-dreamed-of championship.

But in the end, only one person could take it home. And there happens to be only one GOAT. It had been Lewis’ from the very start.

The room was filled with those who weren’t envious but proud, celebrating his historic achievement. It was a night of laughter, toasts, and admiration for the man who had just become an eight-time world champion.

Lewis sat on a couch in the VIP section of the Abu Dhabi club, slowly breathing in the air of victory and sipping on the glass of champagne in his hand, its price not even a thought in his mind.

The air of victory didn’t reek of the podium’s champagne or the faint musk of the club, though. It smelled just like your Dior perfume, your vanilla soap and your vanilla shampoo.

Victory looked like the pretty girl sat on his thigh, bobbing her head to the sound of the all-too-loud music, sipping off her own glass of golden bubbly beverage.

“I think I’m getting too old for this,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, his lips so close you could feel every word.

You chuckled, throwing your head back in that carefree way that always made him smile—it was one of the little things he thought was the cutest about you.

“Wanna leave already, Sir? We’re barely started partying,” you teased, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping an octave, his words vibrating against your chest. “I’ve got far more interesting things waiting at home, Y/N. And trust me, we can party all night there too.”

The weight of his tone sends a shiver down your spine, warmth blooming low in your belly as the meaning behind his words settled in, making your pulse quicken.

Suddenly, you are too aware of how short your dress is and how his hand palms your thigh. You swallow hard, the music and chatter of the club fading into the background. His dark eyes are locked on yours, and the teasing curve of his lips only deepen your anticipation.

“Is that so?” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper, though you knew he could hear the challenge laced in your tone.

Lewis’s fingers traced idle circles on your thigh, his touch light yet deliberate. “You know it is,” he said, his grin growing darker, more possessive. “I’d even dare say… you like that idea, don’t you?”

“Outrageous!” you replied, flashing a mischievous smile, your teeth catching your bottom lip in a playful bite.

The warmth pooling in your belly grew as his hand slid up a fraction more, reaching the hem of your dress. His fingers toyed with the sequins, sending tiny sparks of sensation through your skin.

“Lewis…” you murmured, your tone caught between playful and cautious, though your smile faltered under his gaze. “We’re in public.”

His laughter rumbled low and deep, a sound that sent a shiver straight through you. “Then you’d better behave, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. His eyes never left yours, and his grin turned wicked as he added, “Because if you keep looking at me like that…” He let the words linger, charged and heavy with intent. “I might just have to take you right here.”

Your breath hitched, a mix of anticipation and adrenaline coursing through you as his words sank in. His hand lingered at the hem of your dress, just enough to tease, to test your resolve.

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you,” you shot back, though your voice wavered slightly, betraying your feigned confidence.

Lewis’s smirk deepened, his gaze never breaking from yours. “Oh, love,” he murmured, his voice like silk wrapping around you, “you’d not only let, you’d beg me to do so.”

Heat flushed through you, and you struggled to keep your composure under his piercing gaze. The music around you seemed to blur into white noise, the club melting away until it felt like it was just the two of you, locked in a silent battle of wills.

“Right… Then what if I told you I would absolutely love you to take me right here?” you said, batting your eyelashes as you looked into his soul through his eyes.

Lewis could feel his pants getting too tight around his crotch as you kept looking at him.

Lewis’s smirk grew even darker, the intensity in his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “Shit, love…” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, rich and velvety, making a mess on your panties. “I have to remind you just how dangerous it is to play games you can’t win.”

The heat between you was palpable, a private flame burning brighter with every second. The noise of the club, the thrumming bass, the distant laughter—they all faded into oblivion. It was just him, just you, and the tension crackling like electricity in the air.

“Well, I’m not afraid of losing,” you whispered, leaning closer, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Maybe I want to see just how far you’d go, Lewis.”

His grip on your thigh tightened, and his dark eyes dropped briefly to your lips, before returning to yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. He was holding on by a thread, and you could tell he was teetering between self-control and giving in.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, his tone a warning laced with hunger.

You tilted your head, your confidence unwavering as you batted your lashes again. “Oh, except I do,” you replied softly, your voice dripping with challenge.

Lewis shifted in his seat, the tightness in his pants making his restraint all the more difficult. His jaw clenched briefly, his free hand resting on the back of your neck, his thumb grazing your skin in a way that sent a jolt through you.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear, his words a promise and a threat all at once.

But regret was the last thing on your mind. You leaned in, your breath warm against his cheek as you whispered, “Prove it.”

The heat between you was undeniable now, a private storm building despite the crowd around you. The world didn’t matter—the cameras, the whispers, the flashing lights. It was just him, just you, and the pull that neither of you could resist.

And as his lips brushed the shell of your ear again, he whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

He gently nudged you off his lap, rising to his feet. Taking your hand in his, he led you toward the exit. But just as you reached the door, a sudden burst of cheers echoed from the VIP bar.

Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, and Alex Albon were all staring at you two, grinning like they’d just caught wind of the hottest gossip in the room.

You smile, your cheeks flushing slightly, and bury your face in Lewis’ chest, hiding your laughter. He chuckles softly, his arms tightening around you for a moment before you pull back. As you step away, you look up to find him casually flipping off his co-workers with a playful grin.

A mischievous spark ignites within you, and without missing a beat, you mirror his action, flipping them off with a smirk of your own.

Lewis catches your move, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watches you mirror him. His eyes gleam with approval, his playful side clearly taking over.

“That’s my baby,” he says, his voice low and teasing as he steps closer, his arm brushing against your shoulders, wrapping around your neck possessively.

The group of drivers, now aware of your shared gesture, laughs and shakes their heads, but their amusement only fuels your defiance. The tension between you and Lewis grows electric even when you two stop flipping the guys off, the playful challenge still lingering in the air.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the flashing lights, the cameras capturing every second of your interaction. The bright flashes momentarily blind you, but it's the weight of their gaze on both of you that makes your pulse race. It’s as if the entire world is watching, amplifying everything—the chemistry, the defiance, the thrill of the moment.

“Lewis…” you murmur, your voice low and laced with a mix of desire and curiosity.

Lewis doesn’t flinch at the attention, his smirk only deepening as he locks eyes with you. “Let them see. Let them gossip,” he murmurs, his thumb slowly tracing circles on your skin. “We’ve got this.”

Your heart pounds faster, the electricity between you undeniable. You hold his gaze, a playful yet daring smile curling on your lips.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says, his voice a quiet promise, a declaration of everything you both are, everything you’ve been in that moment.

And as the flashes of the cameras continue, you both walk hand in hand toward the door, leaving the noise, the chaos, the spotlight behind. All that matters now is the intoxicating pull between you two, and the freedom of knowing that whatever the world says, you’ve got each other.

The night belongs to you. And that’s more than enough.

[fanfictionsweetheart]

Crazy

Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Reader

Summary: It’s Wrestlemania and (Name) gets to see her man win the Intercontinental Championship.

Trigger/Content Warning(s): none really, major fluff, suggestive talk

Word Count: 1084

A/N: This is my first ever RPF fic of any kind, but I fell back into my WWE bullshit mainly because of Dom and I’m not even sorry. I’m just experimenting but so far I like it. I have an idea for a smutty follow up to this fic. Anyway, enjoy.

Masterlist

If you had told (Name) that she would be in the crowd at Wrestlemania a year ago, she would have rolled her eyes.

If you had told her she would be there because she was dating someone involved in the WWE, she would have called you crazy.

And if you had told her that the someone involved just happens to be a wrestler so many people loved to hate but she just loved, she would have said you were out of your mind.

But a meet and greet a year prior had led to a private coffee date the next day.

And where he was cruel and cocky in the ring...Dominik Mysterio was an amazing boyfriend. He was still cocky, but it mostly just made (Name) laugh. He was cute when he leaned into the heel personality at random. Truth be told she fed into it more often than not.

It wasn’t her fault that the “Daddy Dom” thing could make her weak in the knees.

He had said he could get her a seat in a sky box if she wanted. But she told him no, if she had her choice she wanted to be ringside. Close as possible in the crowd. She wanted to feel the moment.

Even though they were together it wasn’t well known, since on screen he was with Liv, who was honestly the real life couple’s biggest cheerleader. She thought they were so cute together. And tonight (Name) was Dom's biggest cheerleader.

She was wearing one of his merch shirts (the Latino Cheat t-shirt that she’s cut the sleeves off of) in the biggest size she could get to wear it as a dress over some sheer tights along with fishnets over top.

She liked how sexy she felt. And he loved to see her in his merch. (Not all of that ego was just for show)

She cheered loudly when his entrance music began. She knew his eyes would scan the crowd for her and she could practically feel when they landed on her. Her whole body on fire as their eyes met for a moment. The cocky grin on his face grew when he saw her.

She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky herself that she got such a reaction out of him.

There was something to be said about watching a pro-wrestling match in person. There was nothing like it. Being in the crowd cheering and screaming with every moment. The electricity in the arena was intoxicating.

And it was even more so when the man you were in love with was one of the men in the ring.

She always rolled her eyes at the commentators talking about ‘Dirty Dom’, she knew it was their job, and if Dominik wasn’t bothered she wouldn’t let herself be. Sometimes they were outright ridiculous.

She was on the edge of her seat. She didn’t know the outcome, she never asked for insider info. She wanted to be as surprised as she always was when she was just a fan.

The cheer she let out when he won the Intercontinental Championship bubbled up from deep inside of her. He deserved it. He had worked so hard.

She wanted to cry, she was so happy for him.

After the replay when he ran back out to celebrate once more a few tears did escape as she cheered for him. The entire stadium had erupted for him.

Their eyes met for a moment and it was like he was brandishing the title just for her. Showing off.

God she was proud of him.

She waited until the last match had finished to slip away from her seat and make her way backstage to find her boyfriend. She had a VIP badge of course.

She was directed towards his dressing room, the new Judgement Day’s clubhouse. She may have been a woman on a mission but she did greet a few of the wrestlers she knew better as she walked. Dominik was outside his dressing room finishing up a quick interview, but he caught sight of her right away. She grinned and waited until the cameras were off of him to hurry over.

Practically throwing herself into his arms when she got close enough. Dominik easily lifted her up to spin her around making her laugh mix with his.

“I’m so happy for you, babe,” she said when her feet were back on the ground.

“I may not have said it on camera but that win was for you,” He said before kissing her.

She giggled, he was a total sappy romantic behind the scenes. And she loved it. She kissed back, her arms locked around his neck melting into his embrace.

He broke from her lips grinning like an idiot. He looked so cute when he smiled like that. She cupped his cheeks and pecked his lips once more. His hands rested on her hips and hers went back to set on his shoulders.

“You think you’re up for traveling with me now?” He asked with a laugh.

He’d been hinting at it for a while now, but she had wanted to set up a few things before she could feel comfortable doing so. Mainly checking if she could work remotely or not.

“Of course,” She said, “I got everything taken care of with my boss.”

“You know you don’t gotta work if you don’t want to, I can take care of you,” Dominik murmured.

She just shook her head, huffing a laugh. She’d told him before that she didn’t mind working. And she wouldn’t even think of not having a job unless they were married. And while they loved each other she didn’t know if he was ready for that kind of commitment yet.

But if he asked she knew she would say yes.

She wasn’t going to say that here though. So she just kissed him once more.

She leaned in to murmur in his ear, “I know you have more you gotta do tonight, but save some energy to see the surprise I’ve got under this to celebrate.”

Dominik had to control himself from groaning audibly and just squeezed her hips tightly. He couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel that night for another reason now.

(Name) wasn’t the only one who had a surprise for the other tonight. There was a small black box sitting in his duffel bag just waiting for the right moment. And tonight was for sure the right moment.

[mineralsrocksandfossiltalks]

Monday Musings: Igneous Plumbing Systems

Volcanic igneous plumbing systems or VIPS are interconnected channels and chambers that magma travels through and is stored in. Generating VIPS starts with partial melting. Partial melting is dependent on temperature, pressure, flux addition, and composition of the source rock. The magma then migrates out of its source region by the process of segregation and extraction.

Segregation is the separation of melt from its source rock through gravitational compaction. When the source rock experiences compaction, minerals start to melt at grain boundaries. Melt droplets then build up and connect into melt pools until they are being extracted. There are two end members of melt extraction: melt can be extracted in pulses if the development of magma channels are rapid and the network is highly interconnected, or melt can be constantly drained from the source if the magma channels are developed in a continuous and steady manner.

Extraction controls the chemical composition of the melt, the amount transported and the volume contained in plutons. For instance, if the magma channels are not well connected, the source may not be drained successfully, and dykes may freeze before propagating far enough to feed plutons. If the source rock could not initiate dyke ascent with sufficient melt, the source rock may remain undrained, favoring diapiric ascent of the source rock.

What is a diapir? It forms when a blob of hot, ductile magma ascends through brittle overlying rocks. It is the main mechanism of magma transport from the lower to middle crust. Diapirs are often fed by a series of dykes and sills.

When magma stops ascending, a magma reservoir is formed. The kind of reservoir is determined by the depth and geometry. Emplacement in the lower crust are classified as plutons. Thickness can range from one km to tens of km and is more than the length of the reservoir. It takes 100,000 to 6 million years to form.

Emplacement in the middle to upper crust are sills. These are sheet intrusions that normally are emplaced at least 3km below the surface. When sills become stacked, the form a dome shaped structure known as a laccolith.

Thanks for coming to today’s lesson! Tune in tomorrow one last igneous trivia! Fossilize you later!

[222col]

BOT REQS DUMP by @ 222col ˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

notes: finally worked my way through all my requests <3 thank u to everyone who submitted, and apologies for the wait </3 pls carry on submitting here or in my asks, but just remember it's not a guarantee that it'll get made so pls don't be upset if i don't make ur req. it's nothing personal!!!! i just don't want to make something i don't feel 100% convinced on <3

CHALLENGERS

art donaldson ✰ nightclub blues ➳ divorced, lonely art tries to get his confidence back by going to a strip club. where he finds you, only to break down in the vip room with you, looking for comfort during his private dance.

patrick zweig ✰ best friend's brother ➳ an injury sees patrick back home for a few months, in which he is more than happy to spend next to you, and unfortunately his sister, at the country club. staring at you in swimwear and trying to resist temptation.

patrick zweig ✰ tryna make me jealous? ➳ it had been years since you and patrick split, yet you couldn't ever seem to move on from each other— not that you'd ever admit that. just how neither of you would admit you'd spent all the time apart trying to make the other jealous.

patrick zweig ✰ down to one ➳ a roster romance. the true college experience, seeing patrick at every party and waking up to him the next morning. but, he's ready to cut off every girl on his list. he's just scared you won't feel the same.

HEMLOCK GROVE

roman godfrey ✰ work trip away ➳ roman used to love business trips, but since meeting you, he dreads them. as much as he'd never admit it, he can't stand being away from you. once he's reunited with you, he doesn't want to let you out of his sight ever again.

roman godfrey ✰ peter's little sister ➳ roman had never had friends before peter, he had definitely never had a crush before peter's little sister turned up a few weeks after. all these new feelings are so strange to him, but he knows he wants you. he just can't lose his first friend over it.

roman godfrey ✰ can't argue with destiny ➳ everything was going well for destiny, having you, her half-sister, come to stay with her in hemlock grove. until roman started showing interest in you, destiny had her own experiences with upirs and didn't want you involved in their mess.

roman godfrey ✰ arranged marriage ➳ after years of threats by olivia, she finally forced roman into an arranged marriage. the two of you weren't happy, the tension led to arguments. roman's fed up of it, and wants to be able to touch his pretty wife.

roman godfrey ✰ left behind ➳ you had to watch your family disappear, choosing to stay behind after letha's death instead of fleeing with your mother and brother. you knew roman would be heartbroken losing peter, and couldn't bring yourself to take anything else away from him.

roman and peter ✰ forbidden fruit ➳ peter had finally found someone after the pain of letha, enjoying the peace that hemlock grove had finally gifted you both. but peace never lasts long, especially when roman's suddenly confessing his feelings to peter's girlfriend.

peter rumancek ✰ your protector ➳ peter and roman were having dreams, of the vargulf's next victims. wishing they could work out a pattern, a way to stop the vargulf. never did peter think the next target would be you, the person he loves more than anything.

THE CROW (2024)

eric draven ✰ feel like home ➳ you were eric's safe haven during his teen years, his best friend, before he dropped out of high school and fell into bad habits. he'd forgotten how it felt to be loved by you, until he bumps into you after shelley's passing.

[wherethegoldenleavesfall]

Okay back to...... unique outfit troupe.

The manager has spoken, the sarcasm and disdain is literally dripping off him with on edge music.

And everyone is standing there like they are in gym class 🙄 awaiting further instructions.

Six games over six with 456 players, they really like to spell out literal deal with the devil these players are making.

Some players are not happy to be knocked out. And have their personal items taken away. Met with excuses such as confidentiality and fairness of the games.

Cho Sangwoo who should have gotten a second degree in law. I love ❤️ Gihun and Sangwoo pointing out in their separate scenes how suspicious this all is.

Yes, Sangwoo tear them apart!! 😢 I will get the popcorn 🍿.

And we are now doing abuser 101 lesson now, where the abusers turn the table on the victims by saying look at what you did wrong.

1.39 billion in debt, how did you manage that???

Yes, financial ruin that you may have played a part in creating. And now you are exploiting it.

I would not say trust, I would say stonewalled into playing a game with you. Not told before said game that you would literally physically assaulted because you knew they had no money. Because you stalked them for so many years.

But sure they trusted you.

Oh now, it is this or that. A false choice. Great. Fantastic. Wonderful.

The games are literally on the walls. Or they could be trolling 🧌 us. So there is a worker whose job is update the game murals. Between him or the music worker they have the most easiest tasks.

Now, I imagining a DJ circle worker who literally designs all of the music being used right now. DJ C89?

Oh sure keep them hooked by not telling them how much is the prize money. On a side note, Gihun is so polite for raising his hand. One polite gentleman feminist boy/baby girl right there.

That casino music and bright piggy bank is a great way to keep the brain's attention. Real casinos actually do the bright lights and chiming noises.

Makes me remember being introduced to gambling in the older pokemon games.

Single file signage. Sangwoo signing it with style and orderliness. 🙏 🫡.

I highly doubt that they would let anyone who did not the sign the consent forms go.

I love how Gihun is the only one who literally questions if that's it rule wise?

Reminds me of fairy contracts actually. You sign your name over to this organization who proceeds to "trick" you to your deaths, to keep the VIPS well fed with sacrifices.

And Ilnam signing the contract he likely thought up. Did you think he knew he would one day sign it on the other side?

He is a good actor. His eyes 👀 are already on Gihun.

I love Gihun writing his names scenes okay. 😍

The music use in this episode is top notch. Using a classical song like the Blue Danube to keep the players calm and lulled into a false sense of security is genius.

And the PA women is annoying 😑.

Sometimes I hate the mask, because I want to see Inho’s face. Like he is disgusted? Looking for signs of trouble?

Oh look at this bright, colorful labyrinth.

I never read any fics with dumb and dumber, the two weird haircut bros. Maybe, they are some of Thanos fellow rappers?

324 is now marked for death as in any death games narratives. Any silliness or foolishness is met with being the first kill.

And now Gihun's iconic smile 😃. That is likely after the 33rd Squid Game is on Inho’s computer hardrive, his phones lock screen, or on his fridge. Pick your favorite one. 😍

I cannot blame him though. So cute, warm, bubbly, fiery, and light is in that smile. Could fuel everything with that smile and puppy dog eyes.

And no, Gihun does not look like a naive simpleton with that smile.

Who knew this death game involved the worst picture day ever.

Inho is literally stomping on their faces, very tied to that villain monologue of 1984. As you literally will destroy all the bonds that connect these people and deprive them of their humanity.

How is no one dizzy or claiming they are tired? Going around in circles literally, the players are.

Sangwoo hairstyle is great too. I need to ask that blog to rate his hairstyles too. He has a nervous tic with his hands.

Gihun gazing at this place in wonder. As the head trapper is now head to his suite.

No music allowed in the elevator, though 😕.

[mocha-moo]

Dum mocha thoughts right?

So I am a huge fan of sushi right? So what if there was this sushi place that was an all you can eat buffet for like, 20 bucks. With it you would of course get your choice of drink. On the menu you would have some fairly generic drinks like soda, water, ect. But the big thing that catches your eye is a in house sake that is made right there in their restaurant.

So you think "to hell with it" and order it. When it arrives you are presented with a very cloudy cream colored sake served from a pretty looking light blue, semi transparent bottle. Its flavor is relatively sweet and milky, like Sayuri but with more emphasis on the cream flavor and sweetness of it. It's not half bad and you greedily sip it down as you wait for your first order to arrive.

When your order arrives and you enjoy your first tuna roll, and then you second and third. You feel a tightness in your shirt. Thinking that it might just have been because you ate three entire sushi rolls at this point and are kind of full from it. You were a tad bloated from it but nothing too crazy. What you failed to notice though is the weight starting to pack on in your chest.

Five, six, now seven rolls in different varieties and you could have sworn you would have normally been full by now. Siping on the milky sake to wash it all down, you feel your assets. Your chest has very, very, clearly swollen up. Your bra is almost bursting at the seams with how large they have gotten. Your big soft tummy is exposed for the world to see too! Its ridden up your beach ball of a belly and is the only thing concealing your chest from the rest of the world...for now

Eight, nine rolls in everything started to become hazy, not in the sense of you getting drunk but thoughts are now becoming hard to form. It feels nice just being to sit there and eat all you want and sip on the sweet milky stuff. Your shirt that has been torn in the center would disagree.

By the tenth roll any thought of you feeling full or concern that your bust would pop out of your shirt was gone. Speaking of shirt it is almost in tatters and only leaving but so much to the imagination. A nice lady offers you the sweet cream drink again. You guzzle it down greedily as you always have, and that's when the lady mentions "ma'am please follow me to the VIP section" her words are almost hypnotic. So you waddle yourself into a section you dont remember being there, but to be fair its not like you can remember much of anything now. You see other women like you, only almost all of them are much much bigger than you are, most of them hooked up to milking machines. Some are so big that they rest atop their chest, like a big milky bed.

You're situated in a medium stall like most of the others. She puts a collar on you attached with a large bell, on it the number "47" is etched in. "Congrats on the new job 47, this is your new home now" she says softly, laying a kiss on your chest.

It's been some time since you've been here, you've honestly lost count how many days, months, years? You're still unsure. On the plus side youve been moved to a large stall, your constantly being fed sushi, on top of that they keep giving you sweet milky stuff! It's super good tasting and stuff~. Your doomed to an ever milky eternity with breasts so large moving on your own is no longer possible. Is this really what you thought a 20 dollar all you can eat buffet was going to be?

I'm mostly testing formatting stuff with this. I don't usually post my horny writing thoughts on here but I might if people are interested! nwn

[emilydorp]

Twitter is a mess.

Before we even got into TUDUM week, everyone was acting like, “Oh yeah, T.O.P has lost his sense of humor, he’s not fun anymore, he’s too serious now,” and they kept making sad edits every day that just made us all emotional.

Then Seunghyun showed that he’s still funny, still laughing, still making people laugh, and suddenly they dropped that narrative.

But of course, instead of moving on, they entered a whole new era of being sad about old T.O.P-related tags.

Now they’re back to making sad edits about that, trying to make everyone cry again, and saying, “Yeah, even if they do come back, they won’t be the same.”

It’s like… they want to be sad no matter what.

They’ve said so much nonsense about GTOP that even those of us who’ve been shipping them for years are fed up.

These new fans are ruining everything. I’m honestly so sick of it.

I honestly don't have a lot to add, y'all are being perfect tbh. I really DON'T like being negative, so you'll never catch me saying "ALL new fans are sooo annoying and the root of all our problems!" because that's not true imho, I'm sure there are a lot of new fans that aren't pessimistic and dramatic :D But I do see a pattern unfortunately. I'd appreciate it if they consumed more of BB's past content before spreading things, is all I feel tbh, I'd never gatekeep a community just because you joined late :)). I just straight up consider them as crazy fans, because that's what they are, rather than pointing out their novelty.

Also, everyone seems to have the memory of a goldfish. Maybe it's just cuz I'm a gtopper and one of our stereotypes is that we have the memory of elephants, but it is disappointing to see people forget about what was being discussed just a few weeks ago, and how GD has been giving us positive signs, and Tabi has shown us that he's been healing quite well and wants to be a musician again and is SHINING (like the moon yes I gotta be GTOP trash no matter what). But I'm just a broken record atp.

Honestly, I just want people to stop treating this like a TV show, making sad edits and all of that, because that's what everyone's been doing and I'm also very much sick of it. The entire Kwon Jiyong album and Drama mv FLEW over their heads it seems (I'm only mentioning this because consuming their music and understanding their art should be the first step of any baby fam or vip). Like that's ALL I wish for, just stop treating them like characters in a show.

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Ace, trapped as an anenome, gets a new supervisor- Finn Clearcove. He's weird and awfully quiet, but Ace figures he can get him to lend a hand in this awful anenome situation. Surely nothing will go wrong, right?

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

The Quiet Octavinelle Student

Ace Trappola was not good at owning up to his errors. He was stubborn and headstrong, refusing to back down once he had made decision unless it was clear that it would affect him negatively.

Right now, though, was an exception.

Making a contract with Azul Ashengrotto was a mistake.

Ace let out a slow steady breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes. His heart would not steady in his chest, the dread and fear of being called to the VIP room for no specified reason overloading every other emotion.

Ace crossed and uncrossed his legs nervously, leaning against the cool black leather of the couch. It was so soft, so comfortable, and he would be sleepy if he weren't so stressed.

He glanced at the clock, swallowing. Azul should be here by now, dishing out a punishment for whatever stupid rule Ace had broken. Where was he? He had to feed the flamingos soon.

Regret pulled him deeper and deeper into an inky abyss of shame as he thought back on his previous life decisions.

Making a contract with Azul Ashengrotto for study notes was a mistake. His own dorm leader was the top student in the school and Trey-senpai had a miraculous way of helping others understand difficult topics

The help was right there. His salvation was right there.

Now he was stuck doing dishes, dealing with customers, cleaning the lounge or whatever other gruelling tasks had been set up for him and other anenomes.

Ace was just briefly beginning to consider getting up and running away when the door opened and Azul Ashengrotto entered the room with that swift but elegant stride of his. Ace gulped.

"Apologies for my tardiness, the dorm leader meeting took a lot longer than planned." Azul said matter-of-factly, taking a seat across from Ace.

"I suppose you are wondering why I called you here." He said, skipping the pleasantries. "And no you are not in trouble. This time."

Ace let out a sigh of relief and relaxed against his seat before straightening. "Then uh, what am I here for, boss?"

Azul shot him him a look and cleared his throat.

"You have a shift at Mostro Lounge on Sunday and unfortunately neither Jade nor Floyd will be there to supervise you. I am quite busy myself, so I have entrusted your care to another member of staff. My-" He paused, furrowing his brow. "Fourth in command if you will."

Ah. That.

One of the worst parts about being anenome, apart from his loss of free will and time, was the supervision.

Usually either Jade or Floyd, a pair of eyes would be on him at all times, watching him like a hawk and taking delight in punishing him if he messed up.

Ace shuddered at the memory of Floyd's wide toothy smile and tight suffocating grip.

Obviously whoever Azul had in mind to supervise him was going to be almost if not just as scary as those two and Ace was feeling queasy just thinking about it.

"H-Haha... okay. Sounds great..."

Azul's lips twisted into a smirk. "Don't sound so dejected. Finn Clearcove is far more pleasant than Jade and Floyd."

Okay. Ace had no idea who that was.

"Who?"

"Finn Clearcove." Azul pushed his glasses up his nose. "A second year. He's quite evasive so it's no surprise you haven't heard of him. I will introduce the two of you on Sunday and then we will go from there. Dismissed."

Ace scrambled to get up and bid his goodbyes, rushing to the door so he could get to Heartslabyul in time to feed the flamingos.

"Ace?"

Ace stopped and looked at Azul.

"Yeah?"

"Do tell the prefect to wash Grim more often, he's not a very useful sponge anymore."

Ace's heart jumped to his throat and he mumbled a shakey "y-yeah okay" and fled.

Ace arrived at Heartslabyul stressed, fed the flamingos stressed, told Deuce to shut up stressed, had supper stressed, and went to bed stressed.

He couldn't sleep that night. He couldn't sleep any night before a shift, but now it was worse because he... he had no idea who exactly would be watching over him tomorrow.

Azul said that Finn Clearcove was much more pleasant than the twins but... Azul was a strange guy with strange views on things. He couldn't be trusted.

Then again, he had also described Riddle and Trey as "pleasant".

Riddle... and... Trey.

Trey.

Ace's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright.

Obviously Finn was an Octavinelle student, so he was probably fairly shady, but if Azul lumped him in the same category as Trey of all people than surely there was a chance at mercy? A chance at... freedom, perhaps?

A grin crawled its way onto Ace's face and stayed there, even as he lay back down again.

"Yeah." He said softly. "That'll work."

***

Ace arrived at Mostro Lounge bright and early, partly to avoid punishment and partly to impress his would be saviour.

Azul was waiting for him near the kitchen entrance, his eyes widening in slight surprise at Ace's early arrival.

"Ah you're on time for once, I see." The dorm leader drawled. "Excellent. Ace Trappola, this is Finn Clearcove. Finn, this is the first year you will be watching over."

Azul gestured to his right and Ace's eyes locked onto what was possibly the tiniest seventeen year old Ace had ever seen.

He was smaller than Riddle by a large margin, despite being very chubby, with large amethyst purple eyes and fluffy seaweed green hair.

Ace bit his lip to keep in a short joke, though short probably wasn't good enough to describe this guy.

"Pipsqueak would be more accurate." He thought.

Finn nodded his head in silent understanding, avoiding Ace's eyes and gesturing for him to follow him into the kitchen.

He then waved his pen and the kitchen uniform appeared in his hands and he began to put it on.

Aha so they would be cooking today!

Well, Ace wouldn't be. He wasn't trusted with any cooking equipment or food unless he took the masterchef course and had an additional training and safety course from either Azul or someone else from Mostro Lounge.

"You will be on dishes duty today." Finn said suddenly, pulling Ace from his thoughts.

His voice was soft and gentle like a cloud, but held a firmness that gripped his attention like a vice. The pointed edges of his teeth barely poked from his lips. Ah, so he was like Floyd and Jade.

He gestured to the sink. "Work fast. We have a busy day today, we can't afford filth piling up." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't. Break. Anything."

Ace was sure that, perhaps to like a twelve year old something, Finn was plenty intimidating. However it was incredibly hard to take him seriously when he was craning his neck to look him in the eyes properly.

"H- yeah okay." Ace barely suppressed a laugh and sent a mock salute Finn's way. "On it, sir!"

Finn quirked and eyebrow at him and carefully removed a pair of headphones from his pocket, almost suspicious of his enthusiasm.

Wait were those even allowed?

Finn put them on his head and secured his skullcap over it, careful to keep his bunned up hair fully covered.

"What's that for?" Ace blurted, his tone far more forced and accusatory than intended.

Finn stared at him for a few seconds before muttering "Noise."

He glanced past Ace.

"Sink" he said, and turned to begin prepping without another word.

"Weird." Ace thought, before noticing the overflowing the sink. "OH SHI-"

***

The first half of the shift was long and boring as always, dragging on forever as more and more plates, glasses, bowls and so on piled up next to the sink.

Ace's skin was soggy and wrinkly now, looking awfully prune-like. Honestly he wished he was rather doing homework and getting paper cuts than dealing with this.

Finn was... quiet. Really quiet. He barely uttered a word apart from a command or comment in that soft lulling voice of his.

The rest of the staff didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, they worked like clockwork, unperturbed by Finn's avoidance of their eyes and quiet demeanour as they worked the kitchen for Sunday lunch.

When their breaktime came Ace felt joy like nothing before, slumping against the wall with a sigh of relief.

There was not much time to rest, though, as now was the prime time to get up close and personal with Finn, who was currently disappearing out the door and into the fray of students.

When Ace found Finn again he was leaning over the bar, sipping a brightly coloured mocktail and fiddling with his phone. His headphones were still on, though Ace couldn't hear anything playing.

The card soldier marched up to the bar and leaned across it, grinning at Finn.

"Hey, can I borrow some of your time?"

No answer.

Ace frowned. "Hello? Finn?"

No answer.

Finn looked up and gazed at the fish swimming around outside with distant longing eyes.

Ace rolled his eyes and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Oh for the love of- Hey! Earth to Finn! I'm trying to talk to you!"

There was a sudden blur of movement and Finn grabbed Ace by the wrist and wrenched his hand away with surprising strength, making the ginger let out a cry of surprise.

He turned his head and looked into Ace's eyes, really looked, and the intensity of his gaze was so potent it made a shiver run up Ace's spine.

"Usually when someone is wearing headphones it is a sign that they do not want to talk." Finn said slowly. His voice was still soft, but it danced on the edge of sharpness in a waythat made Ace gulp.

Finn's fingers tapped rhymically against the bar counter and he let out a breath through his nose and smiled a close-lipped smile.

"What can I do for you?"

Ace let out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Okay, rocky start, but we can recover. It's fine."

"Look uh- Finn, you seem like a nice guy-"

"Really?"

"Yeah! I was wondering if you'd be willing to do me a favour."

In true Octavinelle fashion, Finn's eyes lit up in sudden interest.

"Is that so?" He asked, tilting his head head to the side. "What is it?"

"Would you be willing to put in a good word to Azul for me?" Ace spoke as carefully as he could manage, trying trying choose the best words possible. "You seem pretty chummy- ah, I mean close with him. Maybe he'll remove my anemone early? I'll do whatever you want if you'd be so kind to your junior. How's that sound, Finn?"

Finn sat back and stared at Ace before chuckling softly.

"Mister Trappola, I am one year your senior. I would advise showing a little respect before trying to garner favours from me."

Ace laughed nervously, sweat beading at his forehead. "Uh, sorry, senpai."

Finn let out a soft hum and nodded.

"Firstly." He said suddenly, peering at Ace. Those glistening amethyst eyes seemed... off somehow. Not quite right. "Before I do a favour for you- and decide what you will repay me with- you must earn mine."

Ace blinked. "Wha-"

"I'm not asking for much." Finn cut him off abruptly with that sweet gentle tone. "I would like you to do a few small jobs for me whenever you have the free time. Cover my waitering shifts, go on grocery runs, fetch me books, that sort of thing. How does that sound?"

That... wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Ace nodded slowly in agreement.

"Okay. You... also gonna take like my basketball skills or something?"

Finn blinked at him, surprised, before shaking his head. "No, I am not Azul. I cannot take skills or magic... at least not like he can. But I can do this. Here."

He took hold of Ace's right hand and linked it with his left in a firm unmoving handshake. Then he removed his pen from his pocket and tapped his wrist once, twice, three times.

A small dark purple pentagram flickered to life around their wrists, glowing faintly in the dim lighting.

Oh. So it was one of those things.

"So this is what you Octavinelle guys do if you don't have Azul's unique magic? Is this a second year spell?" Ace breathed, eyeing the magical symbol wearily.

"Oh no." Finn shook his head. "You will not learn that here. This was taught to me by my father. It is an ancient binding spell."

"Oh-"

"So here's the deal." Finn continued airily. "You do whatever favour I call in for me within the time frame I give you. If I'm satisfied I will consider granting you that favour, and you will pay me in return for questioning my own dorm leader for you. Is that clear?"

Ace paused and took a moment to think.

This was gonna be taxing.

This was gonna be a painful.

This was probably gonna be the second worst decision of his life.

But anything was better than being trapped here as a slave.

Ace nodded and wearily shook Finn's tiny hand, feeling very uneasy. He watched as the symbol glowed purple and dissipated.

"Senpai... what happens if I break my promise?" He asked, stomach churning. "I don't have a lot of free time in the day. I don't know if I'll be able to... to do it in time."

There was a beat of silence.

Finn smiled at him.

Then leaned forward.

And opened his mouth wide.

"I assure you it is worse than any punishment you can possibly imagine."

The words barely registered when the sight of Finn's mouth blurred out every other little thing.

Ace's eyes widened and he nearly threw up. Finn's teeth were... they weren't like Jade and Floyd's at all.

They were like needles qnd there hundreds of them, if needles were jagged,uneven, ong and horrendously sharp that is. If he were honest, it crossed the line of scary and went straight to ugly.

And horrifying.

"C-Cool cool cool." Ace's face had long since drained of colour. "I uh- gotta go to the bathroom. So you after the break-"

He got up and bolted for the bathroom, nearly tripping over himself and other people on the way. He ran into a cubicle and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him.

"Oh god." He whispered. His breakfast threatened to come up his throat. "Oh god oh god oh god what the hell was that? What hell is he? That's- that's not mermaid teeth. It can't be mermaid teeth, there's no way-?"

He was shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead and running down the back of his neck.

Why was he so afraid? Finn was a pipsqueak and had barely done anything apart from flash those creepy teeth.

Something, something about him seemed so... wrong. Unnatural. Was it his voice? Nobody talked like that. So softly. Like he had a sore throat.

"M-Maybe he was just... upset that I interrupted him and was trying not to yell at me.." Ace thought. "And I'm not used to non human students yet. Yeah, that's it. It's fine. It's all fine."

He forced a smile onto his face.

"I'm going to get rid if this anenome. It'll all be fine."

***

Back at the bar, Azul Ashengrotto got up from his seat on the other end of the table and made his way over to Finn with an amused smirk on his face.

"So you can finally perform form your father's spell, then?"

Finn turned to look at him with a grim expression, his face set dead serious. Then he barked a soft, high pitched laugh.

"Hah! No, of course not! It's a spell from the abyss. The midnight zone, as the humans call it. Ancient. Powerful. It's for too advanced for me, Papa is just exceptionally talented."

Azul shook his head, laughing as well.

"I see. Well, now that you've made your 'deal', how long will it take for the poor card soldier to satisfy you?"

"Oh..." Finn flashed another toothy smile at his boss. Azul didn't even flinch. "Most likely never. I am quite excited to see how long he can go before he slips up. Oh. And by the way-"

He raised the hand he used to grab Ace's wrist, smiling even wider

"-I have a new voice now~"

-End

......................................

A/N: I hope you guys and enjoyed learning and reading a bit more about Finn! Ace continues to suffer at my hands :)

Tagging: @krenenbaker @officialdaydreamer00 @jaylleoo14 @whspermy-name @the-banana-0verlord @minteasketches @azulashengrottospiano @distant-velleity @kitwasheree @cynthinesia @elysia-nsimp @theleechyskrunkly @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer @boopshoops @cyanide-latte @ramshacklerumble @jovieinramshackle @casp1an-sea more of the boyyyy

[loveesiren]

The fact 2025 is the year of BigBang makes my VIP heart shine.

We are being FED.

NO FOR REAL

Like I already know this year is gonna be so good 😭❤️

[hcgossips]

After almost four years of this circus with a fake paternity as the cherry of the cake and me questioning the reasons for all of that, with Henry using his c*nt to tease and mock his fans disrespectfully, while putting them against each other and motivating hate on the internet with his fake fan pages fed by his team, I conclude this guy must be a dude with serious emotional issues, who used fake and staged stuff like fake IG pages and fake followers to keep the fake image and his algorithms.

He became a big fat joke in Hollywood and also, among his fans. Now, everything about this man is clearly fake and his posts on his IG are pure MKT, only. That guy who made videos to fans is gone. So, he lost his connection with them. And that's how it's going to continue being. He will continue pretending to be: the self-confident womanizer, Henry, The Great, the Goddish gentleman and also, pretending he is the child's father of his promiscuous and redneck sl*t, when he's actually an immature and insecure man.

Allowing the truth to come out is unbearable to him, for he can't stand realizing he's not the man he portrays. So, they will continue trying to sell a humanizing image of the promiscuous with this fake child conception, thinking that it will melt your heart, move you to sympathize with her figure and erase her promiscuous past. But, the more they try, the more she becomes despised and he becomes boycotted as a dude.

This PR stunt was the worst and the most unnecessary professional mistake he had ever made in his entire life. It could have had the initial and silly intention to promote his manhood. But, a real man has nothing to prove. And, because of how this woman's reputation screwed with everything, showing how hypocritical he is, an urgent damage control was necessary. But, the strategies adopted had to be a great circus to disguise the mistake, cause of this giant circus.

So, as to avoid making a fool of themselves admitting he was fooled and that she is actually, a promiscuous, instead of ending the contract or at least, avoiding to continue turning this joke public (as they are doing now, with their tails in-between their legs), they decided to play strategies ignoring and diminishing what was revealed (her real rep and his hypocrisy) and his fans criticism as if it was all a fan misunderstanding.

They, then, disrespected fans, minimized and made fun of the consequences of this shenanigan for being embarrassed, expecting to generate doubts and make people think the rumours about her were fake, while trying to sugarcoat it. But, all they did was put more fuel to the fire and expose themselves for what they really are:

a) Him:

- A famous hypocrite actor, who plays the Hollywood escort (Prost****e) in his free time to promote his manhood as an exercise to hide his insecurities,

- A celeb with no self-respect nor respect for his fandom, who uses a fake paternity as a cheap promotion of his acting skills,

- An immature who hid behind an unknown promiscuous redneck.

b) The redneck:

- An unknown bully, who got into this for cheap fame,

- Who tried to hide and deny her real promiscuous reputation with a fake pregnancy,

- A woman with no self respect, who accepted being thrown under the bus and exposed to public execration on a platter,

- Used as a diversion so as to save her fake man's ass.

Henry Cavill was the only responsible for his misery and for his image destruction. On the first opportunity he had to prove he was really thankful to his fans' admiration and love by showing he understood their perplexity, he goes against them for not standing criticism, because of his arrogance.

No one believes the Goddish Prince image he has been trying to push, anymore. And even less, the fake image of the VIP Godsent girlfriend they tried to sell. The mask fell from his face and from hers, it never fit. And now, the presence he used to exhaling no longer remains nor convinces. Today, when I look at him, I just see a poor, weak and pitiful gentleman who was a victim of his own vanity, with a lot of emotional issues, full of insecurities and desperately trying to present a persona he's not.

[seancamerons]

i'm gonna come right out and say it: i loved chaotic. it was a real life real time glimpse into britney spears' life during 2004-05. it was i think on upn/presently cw and it chronicled her onyx hotel touring and a little bit after that, including the 'love' story between her and her second? husband Kevin federline and her pregnancy with sean preston. i believe it included the making of someday (i will understand). i believe the greatest hits/my prerogative coincided with this. i think i remember reading initially chaotic had a different tone in mind and was less about her romantic life, more about just generally her and her personal life. of course that remains intact, most people see it as embarrassing and stupid. (under a read more for the rest!)

i think i used to think that britney as a human at that time was going through a lot sure, the year before justin/britney's personal life was seen for the masses and he was in control of that narrative, she had just married her childhood friend jason alexander for 55 hours in las vegas that january, was promoting heavily at that for her studio album in the zone, and touring in europe for much of this documentary. she showed off the lovely room she had in a hotel, and sounded very humbled by the whole experience i recall her saying, "all this for one little person."

while self-aware, reflective and sometimes spiritual britney is a very complex individual. she surely shed the pop tart bubblegum image with the itz era and afterward. the direction i remember it giving/vibe was "britney let's loose from school girl days of bomt like its college!britney, bitch and of course what happens in college? having fun, friends, working probably, clubbing, meeting guys, parties, and doing that sort of thing." do i think it was appropriate for her age and for her sound? yes. was it mature risque and even a little naughty? you bet. did i eat that shit up, oh yes and i think even now in the zone will forever live in infamy. each track tells a story, paints a picture.

it's obvious she was heavily involved in its production, she even had favorite songs, contributed in the writing composition and credits in the liner notes, i also believe there was quite a bit of information she even helped direct or had a lot of input of what sorts of directions the videos such as "toxic" "me against the music" and "everytime" would look like. i remember seeing a short video between a segue as she performed everytime on this ABC special they did in fall of 2003, right around the time itz was released where she was playing a piano and playing the music for everytime.

for a long time it was rumored/speculated to be related as a rebuttal or even a response to justin timberlake's cry me a river which was released perhaps months before and word was getting out, her reputation was in a bad place and it was time for her to break out of the mold she was in musically and take it up a notch, push the envelope and do what she does best which is sing and perform being the entertainer but more 'her' way.

chaotic featured former alum to nsync/mmc castmate jc chazez who remained her friend at this time, her backup dancers and such, and felicia her longtime assistant and friend, who i once got to 'meet' in 2009 but that's another story.

(it was a brief hi, a smile she's just as sweet as i'd see her on tv, but i strongly think she knew i knew who she was haha without saying much and she was standing by a wall during the VIP backstage tour chatting with brett ('memba her?) I've seen britney in concerts almost 5 times, dwad in 2001, onyx in 2004, circus in 2009 and femme fatale in 2011 almost got to see a show back in 2017 i think maybe 2018 in my area when the tour came around for the last time but my BFF at the time took her stupid bf instead, unforgivable. our friendship has not been the same since. ugh.)

oh and my mom caught a glimpse of k-fed at the same concert backstage, weird and the boys sean preston and jayden were there seated around the stage with lynne, they were toddlers/little at the time. i saw them they were close to the center-right ring if i remember correctly from where i was standing. i did see her manager larry rudolph at femme fatale in a lobby i didn't get VIP that time, but i had pretty decent seats for it, but i didn't speak directly to him but i saw him in line getting a soda.)

all in all, i really enjoyed watching chaotic. best friend at the time and i bonded over britney's music, videos, crossroads, concert going experiences and such so oftentimes she comes to mind too. we used to love dressing up like in britney's style clothing/hair trends/make up and we would 'choreograph' dances to her music and we'd marathon things like that like she had chaotic on DVD so on rainy days and sleepovers we'd pop in the DVDs and watch 'em and be so interested.

a lot of people hate on it, britney herself is kind of embarrassed by it and i get that too, but a lot of it was a snapshot of what her life was like back then and how she was living, where she was and I'm sure if i watch it now, i'd laugh, cry and also be in awe like i was way back when.

a close second is for the record (2008-09) I'll talk about that another time someday. we also loved watching the HBO special from 2001, it holds a special place in my heart. total britney live, the MTV diaries, the interviews even the diane sawyer one like we had that shit down and tapes and tapes of trls, commercials, performances, tv, press things, documentaries i mean we were obsessed basically. a part of us still are. i have some things memorized, like most of crossroads i can at any given time recall some quote from the movie. i loved that britney did that stuff, even if it didn't 'work' out. I'm so proud of britney and so grateful to meet people through the britney fandoms, barmy, at concerts, and even online on fbs and tumblrs alike. for instance, @mollyhale and i have great conversations about britney spears and we have similar opinions and good thoughts regarding her and i love her so much. i cannot wait to read the memoir in full when it arrives this week. I'm also really excited to see crossroads in the movies with my bf and one of my best friends I've known a long time. britney has been a big part of my childhood, teen life, and overall existence.

i love her music, it makes me feel happy and good. i love finding a new obscure song by her, or fall in love with the songs that aren't so well known, or sing along when i hear her music on the radio, or come up on playlists. she is the top for me, and no one can speak ill of her i hate that i would go to literal 'war' so needless to say i have a lot to say about how she'd been wronged/underdog vibes and even by family/long-term boyfriends it sucked for us too the fans, because i know she didn't deserve that. i don't want to discuss the conservatorship time, but you can tell in femme fatale she was exhausted, and unhappy she didn't have the spark in her face or eyes, the songs were great and choreo but there wasn't that fire i love because she was tbh overmedicated. i hate infantilization and the narratives in regard to her mh. i do think that she has a lot trauma to work through from what I've seen in her posts, and her way of healing is speaking, and writing it out and I'm proud she's free to take those steps to reclaim herself and become independent and happy once again. it's gonna take time, nothing is overnight but she's doing fabulous. she's got an amazing legacy, so much talent, so much passion for her goals and endeavors, and she wants to burn that narrative too, she's spoken don't hat on several occasions at length on her Instagram posts as well as what I've seen in her book. she wants her fans to know who she is, where she stands because there's been a lot of buzzing over the years on that stuff and it's wonderful to feel validated and confirmed of a lot of things that weren't factually true.

i love the truth when it comes out. when i was little we'd play truth or dare, and i loved the truth but feared dare because i didn't want to be chicken but would much rather speak a truth even if it was personal, yes. truth > dare.

i'm not afraid of the truth. it will and has set her free. ✨💓

[thelorelounge]

Shita-kiri Suzume—“The Tongue-Cut Sparrow.” A story that says, in no uncertain terms: “Be kind to sparrows and do not let your nosy, greedy spouse near anyone else's stuff, especially if it's bird-related.”

This one has everything: talking animals, magical rewards, poetic justice, and one very unfortunate tongue incident. So grab your moral compass and a pair of metaphorical scissors. We’re diving in.

---

The Kind Old Man and the Sparrow With a Snack Problem

Once upon a thatched-roof morning in a humble Japanese village, there lived a sweet old man—a poor but gentle soul who spent his days working in the fields and his evenings with his grumpy, gold-digger of a wife. We’ll call her Mrs. Absolutely Not Winning Wife of the Year.

One day, the old man found a tiny injured sparrow pecking hopelessly at crumbs and squeaking out cries that said, “Help me, kind sir, or at least give me a snack.”

Being the type of man who probably thanks bees for their service, the old man brought the sparrow home. He fed it, nursed it, and treated it like a feathered grandchild.

But then he went to work. And left the sparrow alone with his wife.

Cue the doom music.

---

The Crime: A Tongue for a Taste

While the old man was gone, the sparrow, hungry and unsupervised, nibbled at some rice starch the wife had left out.

Now, one might think: “Oh no! A tiny bird ate a little paste. How inconvenient.”

But Mrs. McRageface flipped.

She screamed, called the sparrow ungrateful, accused it of stealing, and then—because apparently she had a flair for medieval justice—cut out its tongue.

Yes. She mutilated a bird for snacking. Then she tossed it into the forest like last week’s trash.

When the old man came home and asked, “Where’s my sweet little sparrow?”

She said something like, “Oh, that rice-sucking freeloader? I sent it packing.”

The old man, heartbroken and possibly wondering if his wife was a secret villain in a kabuki play, went into the mountains to find it.

---

The Sparrow Inn and the Two Baskets

He searched high and low until—surprise!—he found a secret Sparrow Inn, tucked among the bamboo, where his little bird friend now lived in style with a flock of other sparrows who sang, danced, and poured tea like the world's tiniest geisha.

They welcomed him with fanfare and feathers and gave him the full VIP experience—then, when he said he needed to return home, they offered him a parting gift:

> “Would you like a small basket or a large basket?”

Now, this is folklore. So we all know the correct answer is small basket.

The old man, humble to the bone, chose it. He thanked them kindly, went home, and opened the basket.

Inside?

Treasure. Gold. Silks. Jewels. Enough to make a modest man very comfortable for life.

---

The Wife, the Basket, and the Brutal Backfire

When the wife saw the basket, she changed her tune faster than a politician in a scandal.

“WHERE did you get THAT?!”

“The sparrow gave it to me.”

“Oh really? Sparrows handing out wealth now? Don’t mind if I go visit.”

So off she went, determined to snag her own gift. She barged into the Sparrow Inn, faked a smile, and demanded her own reward. The sparrows, polite to a fault, offered her the same choice:

> “Small basket or large basket?”

She took one look at the options and went straight for the biggest basket like she was raiding a fairy tale Costco.

But unlike the old man, she couldn’t even wait to get home. No, she had to open it on the road, practically drooling.

And inside?

Horrors. Ghosts. Goblins. Snakes. Possibly her own bad karma dressed in kabuki makeup.

She screamed, dropped the basket, and either ran into the woods never to be seen again... or tripped into a conveniently placed ravine. Versions differ.

---

The Moral(s)?

Be kind to the small, the weak, and the fluffy.

Greed turns people into tongue-cutting monsters who get haunted by their own hubris.

And if a magical animal offers you a choice between small and large, pick small. Every. Single. Time.

[taimio]

Sure! Here's a more engaging and reader-friendly version of your blog post headline: **Choosing the Right Planting Method: Transplanting, Direct Seeding, or Broadcasting** Alternatively, here are a few more headline options, depending on your tone and audience: 1. **Planting Techniques Explained: Transplanting, Direct Seeding & Broadcasting** 2. **How to Start Your Garden: Comparing Transplanting, Direct Seeding, and Broadcasting** 3

Gardening is a great way to bring life to your outdoor space, while cultivating your own produce for self-sufficiency. But just how do you get your plants from seed to harvest? Knowing the different sowing methods of transplanting, direct seeding, and broadcasting, can help you get the most from your garden. So if you want to learn the specifics of what each method entails and which is the best for your vegetable plants, read on and find out!

Sowing Methods: Transplant, Direct Seed, Broadcast

Every spring, I’m faced with a familiar choice: how to get these tiny seeds from packet to plant. It’s not just a matter of convenience—each sowing method has its own tempo, rhythm, and reward. And after years of trial, error, and a few surprisingly philosophical conversations with tomato seedlings, I’ve come to appreciate the nuance.

1. Transplanting: The VIP Treatment

Transplanting is like starting your plants in a cozy nursery before releasing them into the wild. I start mine in trays on a sunny windowsill, where I can whisper encouragement and monitor their growth like a nervous parent on the first day of school. This method gives tender crops (read: tomatoes, peppers, eggplants) a strong start, away from pests, frost, and general garden mayhem.

Transplanting gives you control—over timing, spacing, and survival odds. It’s the difference between rolling the dice and stacking the deck.

That said, it’s not without drama. Root shock is real. I've cried over limp cucumber starts that never forgave me for mishandling their delicate roots.

2. Direct Seeding: The Straight-Shooter

Some seeds just don’t like being coddled. Beans, squash, carrots—they want to feel the soil from the start. Direct seeding skips the middleman and takes a Darwinian approach: sprout or don’t.

I love this method for its simplicity and honesty. One spring, I planted radishes on a whim during my lunch break. Two weeks later, they were up and thriving like tiny rebels.

With direct seeding, timing is everything. Soil temperature, moisture, moon phase (if you’re into that)—they all matter. It’s raw gardening, and it keeps you humble.

3. Broadcast Seeding: Chaos with a Strategy

Broadcasting is the Jackson Pollock of sowing: scatter the seeds, trust the universe. I use this mostly for cover crops, wildflowers, and when I’m feeling artistically reckless.

It’s not for control freaks. You trade precision for abundance and let nature do the editing. If too many pop up, thin them. If none do, well... you��ve just fed the birds.

Broadcasting is the most ancient of methods, and there’s something deeply satisfying about it. A reminder that gardening is collaboration, not conquest.

Choosing What Works for You

In truth, I use all three methods every season. Transplanting for my fussy divas, direct seeding for sturdy types, and broadcasting for when I need beauty or biomass. Each has its moment—and its mood.

If you're wondering where to start, there's a great companion piece on choosing crops based on sowing method that dives deeper into crop-specific strategy. Worth a read before you tear open your seed packets.

So go ahead—scatter, tuck, or set with surgical precision. Just remember: no matter how you plant, you’re participating in one of life’s oldest, most hopeful rituals.

Learn more about gardening with Taim.io!

[bllsbailey]

US Attorney Alina Habba Investigating Dem Governor For Refusing to Assist ICE: ‘Want It to Be a Warning’

New Jersey's acting U.S. Attorney Alina Habba is launching an investigation into Governor Phil Murphy

and Attorney General Matt Platkin

for allegedly obstructing federal immigration enforcement by instructing state police not to cooperate with ICE.

Habba, a former personal lawyer for Donald Trump known for her fierce defense of the President, announced her decision during an appearance with Fox News host Sean Hannity.

She has targeted Murphy (D) and Platkin (D) over an order instructing New Jersey State Police to ignore newly filed warrants for illegal immigrants, something she notes is a threat to public safety.

"I am unfortunately going to announce on your show tonight, Sean, and I want it to be a warning for everybody that I have instructed my office today to open an investigation into Governor Murphy, to open an investigation into Attorney General Platkin, who has also instructed the state police not to assist any of our federal ... agencies that are under my direction," Habba stated.

The order in question advises state police not to contact ICE—not even via phone—if they see a legitimate warrant for deportation. This is contrary to federal immigration enforcement laws.

Law enforcement that receives a notification of an "Outstanding Administrative Warrant" has been warned that they "are NOT permitted to contact ICE via the phone numbers provided."

"That will no longer stand," Habba added. "[Attorney General] Pam Bondi has made it clear, and so has our president, that we are to take all criminal — violent criminals and criminals - out of this country and to completely enforce federal law."

Habba added that anybody getting in the way of enforcing those laws "will be charged in the state of New Jersey for obstruction, for concealment, and I will come after them hard."

The US Attorney advised that the investigations will commence immediately.

RELATED: NJ Gov Phil Murphy’s Admission of Housing an Illegal Backfires, Border Czar Says He’ll ‘Seek Prosecution’

No-Nonsense Trump Defense Lawyer Gets Big New Role: US Attorney

Earlier this year, Governor Murphy made a wild admission of sorts in an interview with the progressive grassroots organization Blue Wave New Jersey, claiming that he harbored an illegal immigrant in his home.

He taunted federal officials by saying "good luck" in trying to come get her.

"[NJ First Lady] Tammy [Murphy] and I were talking about – I don’t want to get into too much detail, but there is someone in our broader universe whose immigration status is not yet at the point that they are trying to get it to," the Democrat governor confessed.

"And we said, you know what? Let's have her live at our house above our garage. And good luck to the feds coming in to try to get her."

Hannity pointed out that operating as a sanctuary for illegals and instructing law enforcement not to cooperate is essentially "aiding and abetting in lawbreaking."

"That is putting the people in my state in jeopardy, in a serious predicament, and our, frankly, state officers are now being held with their hands behind their back because they have people using politics over crime and the safety of the American people," Habba replied.

Thanks to President Trump, illegal immigration into our great country has virtually stopped. Despite the radical left's lies, new legislation wasn't needed to secure our border, just a new president.

Help us continue to report the truth about the president's border policies and mass deportations. Join RedState VIP and use promo code FIGHT to get 60% off your membership.