#I should probably replace the entire build

[victorluvsalice]

We have hit Spring Sunday in the Chill Save as of this update, and once again there’s a lot to cover, so let’s get started! And, as you might be able to tell from the pictures, Part One of this update is mostly “Victor’s Bad Day In The Magic Realm.” XD After setting some new occult preferences with Spinning Plumbob’s latest mod (with the extra help of Zerbu’s Unlimited Likes And Dislikes -- Victor, Alice, and Smiler all like vampires, werewolves, spellcasters, and humans, with Victor and Smiler also liking ghosts), having Smiler finish up their term paper, and Alice fix the kitchen sink, chat with the spooks, and take care of the chickens, I figured the household was in a good place for Victor to use his Glimmerstone to pop over to the Realm for a bit, look for tomes, get himself a wand and a broom, and perhaps get some good spell practice in!

He achieved ONE of these aims. His scan of the bookcases for tomes led to him finding a familiar orb instead -- the orb of the Veild! This is that Voidcritter familiar that’s actually fairly rare -- while I intend for Victor to get a dragon familiar instead, I can’t deny that this thing is at least worth good money if I wanna sell it ($777). So I guess not a bad find, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted. Before I could get him to do anything else, though, I noticed he had to go to the bathroom. . .and that the only available toilet had been pranked. *sigh* “Ah well,” I figured, sending him over, “he needs it, and I can always have him try Repairio on it. It has to fail less in the Magic Realm, right?”

NOPE. Not only did Victor fail to successfully Repairio the toilet TWICE IN A ROW, he actually picked up a curse from how often it’s been failing on him -- the Curse of Uncontrollable Charge, meaning all charge gains for him are now doubled. >.< Good thing I picked up “Discharge” as his very first perk, huh? *facepalm* After he put out the second fire, I decided to cut my losses and just get him down to the marketplace to buy a wand and a broom. Ended up picking up a very nice bone wand (it felt appropriate) and a classic broom with pink bristles (only other choice besides a mop, which I didn’t want), and then sending him straight home again. Oh, Victor. . .one day you will stop setting everything on fire trying to repair it!

[pankomako]

hey i wonder if AI could generate 3D models from 2D character turnarounds. would that be neat or what

[gacorley]

There’s some common threads I see in the anti-voting posts going around, and I feel like I need to discuss some of them. Let’s start with the biggest one:

Voting to punish evil. I see lots of variations of this. Biden is supporting Israel, therefore we can’t vote for him. Is there any viable candidate who would stop the genocide? I don’t think the anti voting crowd actually cares. They are appealing to moral feelings rather than political strategy, because strategically, you have to realize that voting is not going to change foreign policy, and that change has to be pushed by other means. It’ll probably be something in the long haul.

Democrats should run someone else. First of all, this is a shit strategy. You don’t primary your president in the second term unless your party is falling apart. This may come from people from countries where replacing the head of government is easier, but the POTUS is the de facto party head. Also, going to the lack of thought to the goal — do you know someone willing to primary Biden and able to win who would do the things you want?

Biden hasn’t done anything anyway. This is just a way to bat away pro arguments. There’s plenty of lists of progress on lots of things. Student loans, insulin price caps, regulations, anti-trust.

Putting the entire Palestinian genocide on Biden. I’m not saying there’s not culpability there, but understand that the entire US government is in support of Israel, on both sides. It was a miracle we got a handful of Senators to call for investigations. We should cut off aid, absolutely. Who’s running to do that? And keep in mind that Israel chose to engage. US officials would have liked a more limited response, not out of care for Palestinians, but because they know from experience that it will come back to bite Israel in the form of newly radicalized Hamas recruits.

Liberals just have no hope for change. This is a new one. Just some idea that people are stuck in a rut and that’s the reason the two party system exists. The two party system is a mathematical consequence of the way we vote. There is reason to hope for change. The change, though, whatever means you choose, will take decades. Keep working at it. The hope is not that this election will fundamentally change things. The hope is that many small political actions over the years will push things forward.

Funnily enough, I haven’t seen a whole lot of third party promotion, just lots of this rhetoric aiming to punish. When voting, ask yourself:

Is this problem I have with this candidate something that the other candidate would be better on?

Are there other political actions I can take that will help?

What things can change with a different President or Congress, and what needs to be pursued by other means?

Withholding your vote as a punishment isn’t really going to help. Biden doesn’t know who you are or why you are not voting for him, and there is no one with a chance of winning that will do everything you want. But you have other means. Protest, organize, donate, build up alternatives, advocate for a different system.

Vote to give yourself space and get a little bit. Do other things to keep things moving.

[evilminji]

Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?

Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.

See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.

Because it is dumb.

Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.

And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!

Small problem.

The instructions have been damaged.

PANIC.

Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~

Use THAT!

But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.

As in... the planet.

It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.

The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.

But thankfully it IS stable.

Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.

Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.

Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.

AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.

Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".

With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!

You.

Klarion you little SHIT!

So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.

This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.

His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!

Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!

*gets hit again*

*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?

Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?

Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!

@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[windvexer]

the Chicken furthermore tries to convince you to practice sorcery in a fun and fulfilling way

There is a difference between practicing goal-oriented practical sorcery, and placing the entire value of your sorcery on whether or not you achieved the goal. One of these things is soul-crushing.

Practicing sorcery should be it's own reward. The actual steps you are performing should be stuff that you like, or thrills you, or captures your fascination. As an activity, practicing sorcery should be satisfying regardless of whether or not the spellwork manifests properly.

If the sorcery on your plate is not satisfying, compost it and return to the endless buffet and try a different type of sorcery.

If you do not have the things you need, your first step to a spell becomes innovation. What is the purpose of the thing in the spell, and how can it be replaced?

A spell can be cast with a length of string, or a paper and pen. Or with a bit of crayon. Or a dead fly. Or with just you.

Sorcerous knowledge tends to reveal itself when the clutter of correspondences is placed aside, so having few things to practice with is not a curse.

You do not need an interpersonal spiritual friendship with every single spirit you want to work with in magic. YOU DO NOT.

Interpersonal friend relationships with spirits should probably be reserved for very special spirits in your "inner court," the beings with which you choose to share your life and that you honor as teachers and guides.

Many spirits are pleased to assist with magic, but have no interest in getting to know us personally.

Imagine if everyone in your askbox wanted to ask you for help on something you're knowledgeable about, but instead of just asking for help, they first wanted to DM you for a few weeks to make sure you're comfortable with being asked for help, meanwhile on your correspondence chart pinned post it says "I can help with [topic]! Just ask!"

Asking spirits for help in magic is a good, valid way to start building a relationship with them.

Repeatedly calling on the same spirit or type of spirit over and over in spellwork is a fantastic way to deepen your relationship with them.

Working with a spirit in magic does not mean you are obligated to build a shrine to it, venerate it, talk to it outside of spellwork, or any of that.

Practicing sorcery is not the same thing as casting a spell. Practicing sorcery also means practicing the composite skills which come together to make a spell.

A spell is like a completed painting. But to make that painting, the artist needed several skills: the ability to sketch the scene, knowledge of how to apply and work with their paint, color theory, an understanding of how to render landscapes, and so forth. As a sorcerer, your skillset might be imbuing intent, raising energy, centering and grounding, practicing trance, practicing psychism or divination, etc. As you gain familiarity with these things, spells become less like an imposing stranger, and more like someone you're sure you've met before.

Practice can be it's own reward, but discipline is often required for progress.

Raising energy once a day, forever? I think not.

Raising energy once a day for seven days? Or, dedicating to doing it a total of ten times this month? Perhaps so.

An artist may not be in love with every single step of the process, and sometimes a sorcerer may have to get good at a skill that's not their favorite. But if no part of the process sparks joy, then something is wrong.

Sucking at something is the first step to being kind of good at something. Be reasonable with yourself: does the beginner artist doodle a landscape, then look at their work and declare that their art "doesn't work"?

Not every witch is talented at every sort of sorcery. Not creating a potent prosperity spell after five tries doesn't mean you're bad at magic. It might mean that your current understanding of prosperity magic precludes good results, or that you are casting on one very intransigent situation, or that your true talents lie in destruction and chaos instead of peaceful growth.

Set practice goals, give it an honest go, and move on when the time is right: "I am going to practice raising Fire energy and putting it into this stone using the Pore Breathing method. I'm going to do it fifteen times." (3 months later): "That sucked and it never worked, but I did it all fifteen times. Next I'm going to do a grounded roots visualization and use it to channel water energy to cleanse my room." (10 days later): "That was awesome, I want to do it more than 15 times."

Play around and be silly with it. Taking your path seriously is not the same thing as taking your path somberly.

Sports teams practice drills to be ready for game day. Sorcerers are wise to take a page from their book, because when real-life game day arrives, it feels much better to deal with it when you know you've been having pretty good success with channeling water energies, so maybe it's best to do something with that, because you can't move fire for dick.

[queen-mihai]

We only need a few rich people

And we need zero billionaires

The "need" in society to have rich people running around is mostly for entertainment value.

Let's say someone who earns $20 million a year due to some really popular product she invented and maybe some smart investments.

This person will never be a billionaire

BUT she will be a fun person to have around on some dumb TV show

"Oh yeah I bought myself a second yacht this year 😅. They're kind of a guilty pleasure of mine so I thought I'd splurge"

She's not rich enough to get around paying her taxes, which means she's probably giving 10-15 million a year or more straight to the government as taxes.

Now, she's paying the people who build the yacht, keeping them in business. They hire tradespeople and artists to make her ship nice, and those people go on to further stimulate the economy by spending the paychecks they earned building her yacht

She buys houses, clothes, cars, puts her kids through expensive classes, and sets aside a little nest egg so she can retire in comfort and her kids can go to school

That's not so bad. She's probably on TV shows talking about how fun it is being rich and everything. Maybe she gives some money to charity and people kinda wanna be like her.

You know what we don't need?

Someone rich enough to, instead of buying a car, buys the entire car manufacturer

We don't need someone who has enough money to stop paying their taxes and then pretend they still do.

We don't need someone who can spend a million dollars in a day and have it replaced that same day.

Spending money SHOULD hurt. Or make you feel SOMETHING.

If you're collecting money so goddamn fast that you literally can't spend it fast enough to ever see your bank account go down, we don't fucking need you.

If you're collecting that much money, your bank account should just be a wide open door where people can rob you all they want because you won't even notice anyway.

Are you a billionaire reading this? Give me ten million dollars and I'll think about shutting up. I won't, but I'll think about it.

You're gonna have to give ten million to every other person reading this though cuz they're probably not gonna shut up either.

You know what? Actually it'd probably just be easier to PAY YOUR DAMN TAXES. That would get a lot of us to shut up.

Try it. You might like it

[jymwahuwu]

Content warnings: yandere, angst(?), some descriptions of capitalism, you're locked up

Summary: You are a bakery owner and you and your shop are going to be evicted by the IPC. Unfortunately, Aventurine is the one handling the plans.

Note: I suddenly want to write this very much...sorry, I don't know what I am writing...🥹

According to the calendar of your home planet, you spent all your savings and bought a bakery three years ago.

Once upon a time, you had your own ideals, which were woven into unrealistic dreams in your childhood paintings. When you become an adult, you realize that adults use lies to pile up in school and blow up beautiful bubbles. Those lies are probably the beginning of your idealized misfortune. Your dream goes from unrealistic to another. Under consumerism, you want a property of your own, with one room, a large living room, an open kitchen, and a ceiling where you can sleep while looking at the stars. Approximately 8,000,000 credits. You deposit money into the Cosmic Bank. Staring at the rising numbers in the bank account with tired eyes, health has been replaced by some slowly rising numbers and countless nights.

Then, you collapse. Your ideal transforms into a spaceship for 1,200,000 credits. However, classmates and friends of Universe University in the same year shared on social media that they had gotten married step by step, had children, and had a lovely next generation from the artificial womb. The venue for their proposal was on a romantic planet with endless sea, sky and seagulls. A growing sense of comparison creates unnecessary suffering. Others tell you, go ahead, just like others, work, save money, buy a house, buy a car, get married, have children, bring new blessings to the universe, and believe in an Aeon you like.

Best is Qlipoth. They said. Everyone said so.

That's the Aeon that IPC fervently believes in. They may not necessarily know about the walls and protections made by Qlipoth, but people must know that IPC is a huge company involved in the economy of the entire universe. Their golden bodies symbolize enviable wealth in people's eyes.

But spacecraft are out of reach. You figured this out through a cheap and unpalatable 10-credit lunch and a scolding from your boss. You know you should set a more realistic goal.

Then let’s get a car with 30,000 credits. There are also jewelry for 50,000 credits. I'll go shopping after get off work. you said so.

You walked into the store and bought a car that met your expectations despite the salesperson's inner eye rolls and eager sales. Stroking its shell, eager joy surges into your heart, as if your hard work has been transformed into a visible reward. This is valuable. And jewelry, you buy a necklace that sparkles around your neck.

Your face was hot with excitement. There is value in this, keep it to yourself and it will appreciate in value!

Trembling with excitement, there is endless emptiness behind the joyful smile. Cosmic Express is responsible for delivering express delivery to your home. You browse the Internet and buy a list of unnecessary things to fill your misery and pain and stop the bleeding that might come out.

Then one day you quit your job after another scolding, knowing that you are just a cog in the functioning of society. You don't want to live like this anymore, but you don't know how to live without money and without getting married like others. You buy a spaceship ticket and wander off randomly. Romantic, casual and comfortable life. You think idealistically again to cheer yourself up. No matter where you go, you have to start a new life.

You arrive on a new planet, a beautiful and highly developed space society. The dome has a transparent dome woven from Qlipoth that envelopes the entire planet. You have heard that IPC has its headquarters here, but some say it is just one of its branches. Regardless, they obsessively imitated the architecture of Aeon Qlipoth, constructing a towering building with a beautiful transparent glass dome. It is stationed on the planet like a banyan tree, tirelessly absorbing money and energy.

You bought a small, independent bakery on one of the shopping streets, renovated it and prepared it for opening and used up almost all the credit in your bank account. But, you are happy, from the bottom of your heart, practicing your baking recipes and thinking about a bright future. On opening day, you put up a sign with a design on it. And greets all guests warmly. They smell the aroma of bread, follow the traces and step into your store, buying this and that bread and drinks. The aroma of food, warm bread, that is the breath of life.

-

One month after opening, Aventurine stepped into your bakery. When socializing at work, he accompanied his clients to drink and enjoy haute cuisine, with a charming smile. During lunch, he would choose a coffee shop or an elegant restaurant to sit and browse the stock market and invest. Those tens of millions of money came and went, only in exchange for a smile or a sip of coffee from him. Wonderful afternoon. Beautiful gamble. But that day, he smelled a different aroma of bread, and realized that a new store had opened in the commercial street.

He walked into the store and browsed the golden bread. Aventurine spent 2 minutes choosing toast and croissants, listening to the sound of money arriving on his phone. He glanced at you, who was in uniform and busy. It was inevitable that he thought from a professional and utilitarian perspective, wondering how this narrow store did not meet the requirements of modern business. Decoration, bread production, marketing, and store staffing. It would be foolish to hire just one clerk. Hiring just one more clerk can lead to more revenue. You obviously have your hands full.

He spent 2 minutes in line. When it was Aventurine's turn to pay, you gave him a warm smile, as warm as sunshine. These days, you remember some familiar faces of your customers. You're a little surprised by the new-faced customers arriving at the store.

You greet him and ask if he wants a takeout or just enjoy it in the store.

"Right here, thank you." Aventurine replied.

So Aventurine sat down, right in the bakery. He munched his bread and invested his money, living his daily life. Day after day, weeks and months passed. Occasionally, he pays attention to you. You always do all the work in the store, packing the bread, putting it on the shelves, and doing the cashiering. So one day, He asked out of curiosity. “Isn’t the bakery owner going to hire an extra employee?”

You opened your eyes wide and smiled awkwardly. "I-I'm the owner of this bakery."

Ah, so here's the answer. Aventurine nodded, you may not have more funds, but he accidentally started to invest and play, just like the play he had not completed in childhood. He loved investing, which was like finding a pearl in the ocean, playing Monopoly, playing with his assets. A desire arose spontaneously, satisfying his heart. "Have you considered expanding the store and staff? I see your bakery is very popular. I've witnessed many, but none like this, and swear there's some potential here."

"Really?" You were a little shy in the compliment. He was surprised at your naivety. "Thank you, but I have no plans yet."

"Oh, you're eating Brioche today." You looked down at the bread he selected. "You are a familiar face. Let me give you a discount. It only costs 200 credits."

Aventurine was about to refuse, but heard your question. "If you don't mind, could you tell me what you do for a living?"

He didn't understand the specific reason. Aventurine didn't want to reveal his work in front of you, so he muttered vaguely. "I'm in the gambling business."

"You mean the casino?" You blinked.

"Yeah, yes," he replied.

"That must be hard…" You recalled the casino in the drama, where the gamblers seemed likely to fight. He must have been mediating frequently there. After thinking about it, you gave him extra drinks and bread. “Here’s today’s special offer!”

Aventurine held the drink at a loss, feeling that the cold drink was radiating heat.

-

On a rainy and windy afternoon, Aventurine won't sit at your outdoor table. He returned to the IPC with the bread and pressed the button for the lift. One of the members of Ten Stonehearts saw him and asked caringly. "I can't see you eating in the office lately. Can you be full just by eating bread?"

"It's okay. I fill up easily." He smiled politely, even though he had eaten some more bread… He didn't refuse your offer.

He finished chewing the bread while scrolling through your bakery’s social media feeds on his phone. You like to update the bakery's social media and have accumulated about a few hundred likes per post. In the photo, you shared a new type of bread, and your passion for life is reflected in your eyebrows and eyes.

The department meeting is just after lunch. The holographic screen fluttered IPC's business plans and developments. IPC announced that one of its small plans was to acquire a new commercial street and all the businesses would have to move out. His eyes reflected the glowing words- your bakery is on that commercial street.

-

Gradually, that friendly customer who works at the casino becomes too busy to visit your bakery, or he finds a new restaurant. There's something empty inside you, like a piece is missing.

New signs were posted in the neighborhood, and other store owners who often borrowed flour and other supplies from each other knocked on your door and told you that the Interastral Peace Corporation was buying the street and that every store was going to be evicted. This will be the place where a new type of space commercial city will be built. Many companies will settle in and open stores. It will be beautiful and modern, just like other space commercial cities. You'd better discuss a compensation plan with IPC now and strive for better terms.

IPC may compromise, but with other economic systems of the entire planet, not with a small commercial street. They do what they say they will do.

Like a bolt from the blue, you repeatedly confirmed and asked questions. Why does it have to be here? Why? What are their plans? How much will the compensation be? The IPC wants the compensation to be as small as possible, and the shop owners will fight for it, but the court is on their side. So don’t be too tough in your attitude, be more diplomatic, be more worldly, and seek more benefits for you. they said.

Many shop owners have signed up for the compensation plan. You are one of the few shop owners who are too stubborn to embrace the world. Guard this shop like a dragon guarding the last treasure. As the deadline gets closer, you notice more rude customers, the ingredient supplier says they can no longer serve you, and some negative messages and reviews appear to smear you. There are also people in all-black uniforms looking outside your store. That's downright creepy.

But you are not afraid, what you are afraid of is that something will be taken away from you again. Those capitalists are used to taking something from you and then giving you something in compensation. Before it was salary, now it's compensation plans.

Occasionally, you bow to reality and pay attention to some new stores, but those prices cannot be bought with compensation.

One night, before you close the shop, you hear the sound of construction work, destroying the original shops. It's not loud and noisy, it's a new space construction technology, but you're terrified and just want to pack up and go home. You have filed a complaint with the court. Once again, you place your hopes on the ethereal, and then you see a figure appear at the window of the bakery.

Ah, it's that customer. He must be here to support you and buy bread.

You maintained your smile and greeted him, "I haven't seen you recently. Where have you been?"

Aventurine just stared. There was some compassion in his expression, and his features were soft. He knew that the gentlest of measures would not work. “…let me talk to you about the new compensation plan.”

You were stunned for a while. "…What do you mean?"

He hands you a card with neatly printed handwriting and the IPC logo.

“Aventurine, Senior Manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department”

You held the card and read it for a while before looking up at him. Your throat was dry but tears were streaming down your face. The holographic screen projects a new plan, specially prepared for you stubborn, idealistic people, to provide better compensation.

"…Go away, I don't want to see you!" You paused for half a minute before getting angry and pushing him out of the store. What flows inside is anger at the betrayal, even though you know he doesn't have to support you. Aventurine's arms opened up to embrace you. You were shocked, struggling, and sobbing. "I don't want to see you…you are with them…I have nothing, and you still want to take it away…"

Halted like an emotional kitten, you whimpered, tired from sobbing, sleep overtook you and darkness enveloped you.

You opened your eyes and found yourself in a luxurious room, with stars visible on the ceiling and a soft quilt covering you. Pillow supports your head. You adjusted to the light for a few seconds, frowned, and moved your hands, but the sound of the chain sounded. You looked at the chains on your hands, stunned, shaking and struggling. "What-what's going on?"

"Ah, you're awake." Aventurine opened the door and came in. He touched your forehead, and you realized that the clothes you were wearing had also been changed. They were a set of pajamas. "What happened?" You shook the chain in your hand in confusion. "Someone attacked us last night?" "Um, it's not like that actually."

Aventurine comforted you and shushed you. "You're locked in. Shhh...shhh, don't scream. I know this may be hard to accept at first, but you'll see the benefits."

He explained, to your expression like a frightened little animal. "…For business purposes, I looked into your background. You've been having a hard time, haven't you? Now you finally have time to relax. This is one of my houses, and it's yours, too."

"I didn't ask you..." Tears welled up in your eyes. Are you going to be locked up? "I know." Aventurine stroked your head gently. "I know, now just relax. I'll take care of the bakery. We'll open a new one somewhere with the ocean, you know, new plans."

You noticed that he used the word "we," which made your heart feel strangely warm. You were speechless, closed your eyes, turned around, a tear flowed down your cheek, and the chain creaked.

This is your new reality, but at least you can rest, right?

[thankskenpenders]

And now for something new

So, here's something I was never planning on doing, but I just couldn't shake the idea... Thanks Ken Penders is gaining a sister blog featuring an entirely different comic franchise!

Introducing... Thanks Steve Ditko, a blog where I read the Earth-616 Spider-Man comics, starting all the way back in the '60s! It's gonna be much more casual and less thorough than how I run things here on TKP, though, which I'll explain in a sec.

If seeing me post weird bits from old Spider-Man comics sounds fun and you need no further info, then just head right on over to Thanks Steve Ditko. But for longtime TKP readers, I know you probably have questions...

Number one: Why?

Spider-Man's always been my favorite superhero, and with the Spider-Verse movies kicking ass and my excitement building for the new Insomniac game, I've been in a Spidey mood. Inevitably, a thought occurred to me: Maybe I should actually read the comics that everything else is built off of and see the wildly varying contributions of all the original creators, rather than filtering them through big budget adaptations. If I can power through One Piece and all these other manga with hundreds of chapters, it can't be that hard... right?

And, well, after a few issues I quickly realized that my options were to either clog up my other accounts with random Spider-Man panels for years, or to just make a side blog. And so the side blog was born.

Two: Will this blog replace Thanks Ken Penders?

NO!!!!!!!!!

Okay but prove it

To allow the two to exist side-by-side, Thanks Steve Ditko will have a different format than what Thanks Ken Penders developed. Rather than an in-depth guided tour that critically analyzes every story beat of every issue, TSD will just be a place for amusing panels and brief thoughts as I casually read the comics at my own pace.

If you've seen me make a few tweets about reading Spider-Man recently, I'm basically just moving that to a dedicated Tumblr. It's a place for me to dump these things so that it doesn't fill up my media tab on Twitter for the next decade. (You know, assuming Twitter is still around in a decade.) There will be many issues where I only post two panels that I thought were funny. There will be issues where I don't have anything to say at all. Maybe I'll reach a run that I just cannot get into, and I start skipping around more. Who knows!

This may sound similar to what I thought this blog would be before it blew up. Aside from the simple fact that there's already mountains of Spider-Man commentary out there and therefore less of a void for me to fill, one of the main steps I'll be taking to avoid repeating the past is not enabling an ask box on TSD. I do not need people to ask me to go into ten times more detail on everything. I do not need to write seven essay-length responses to questions about Spider-Man minutiae every day. I do not need a place for people to chide me for not covering certain scenes, issues, or ancillary series.

It also won't have any kind of update schedule. I'm trying to keep it very casual. I'm reading these comics at my own pace, and if I feel like sharing a moment or commenting on something while doing so? It goes there. That's it.

(On the subject of format changes, I'm also listing the issue, writer, and penciller in the body of every post. This is a thing I wish I'd done on TKP so that people didn't misattribute every weird Archie Sonic panel I post to Penders.)

Three: So when will TKP come back from hiatus? You said it'd come back after you finished SLARPG!

I don't know! Sorry. I have a couple things on the backburner right now for TKP, but I'm not sure when I'll get back to proper updates where I read more comics.

I wanted to bring TKP back this year, and that's still possible. The main hurdle is that I want to reread my own archive (again) as a refresher, which is, uh. A lot of posts. I've developed a high standard for myself on here, and I feel like I wouldn't be doing my job right if I forgot half the ongoing subplots and character arcs and didn't bring them up in my analysis. Especially when I'm discussing the work of an author as obsessed with continuity as Ian Flynn. Unfortunately, the nature of this blog means that every time I go on another long hiatus for Life Reasons I have even more comic continuity to catch up on than last time.

(This is a big part of why I'm making Thanks Steve Ditko an extremely casual blog instead of promising to become a Lore Expert on 60+ years of Marvel.)

Mostly I've just been very burnt out this year after having finally finished a video game that took almost eight years to make. I haven't really had the energy for any creative projects, including TKP. But I feel a little bit of a spark here with Spider-Man, so I'm chasing that feeling to try to get back into the swing of blogging about comics - no pun intended.

So, basically, bear with me on this as I start this low-energy side project. But hopefully folks will enjoy Thanks Steve Ditko as its own thing, too.

Look forward to goofy shit like this

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Violence. Almost smut. Choking. Semi-public. Knee riding.

“The Angel From My Nightmare”

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“Alright, go have fun. Come get me if you need something,” Sara told her younger brother.

“Do you have to stay?” Connor complained as she and Lauren sat at a table.

“Sorry, kiddo. We gotta have fun too,” she teased. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be all the way over here, you won’t even know we’re here.”

That turned out to be completely wrong.

“It’s super crowded in here… Even Heather Hills and her friends are here tonight,” Lauren observed.

“Ew. She puts the ‘bully’ in bulimic,” Sara muttered.

“Yeah, even I’m not that far in denial,” Lauren agreed, turning as everyone noticed a loud feedback coming off of the DJ’s microphone.

The music stopped, and no one knew what was happening.

“Alright, enough of that,” Rodrick Heffley’s voice blasted over the speakers, replacing the music that had been playing.

Everyone at the roller rink stopped to see that he and the rest of the band had set up near the DJ booth, completely hijacking the music.

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, looking to Sara. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Sara hissed, looking at Rodrick in horror.

“We are Löded Diper, and we’re here to blow your minds,” Bill joined in.

“Oh my fucking God,” Sara murmured, trying her best to blend into the crowd as she scooted as far down the bench as possible.

But she quickly found that anonymity definitely wouldn’t be in the cards for her tonight.

“I’m Rodrick. Rodrick Heffley,” a shaky voice breathed into the mic.

“Hurry up!” someone’s dad yelled, more irritated about not hearing music than the whole music hijacking situation.

“Alright, uh… I’m here to sing one song. It’s a very special song, that goes out to a very special girl. Sara? Sara Walter?” Rodrick desperately searched the crowd for her.

He eventually found her, staring right at her as everyone in the roomed stared, including Heather Hills and the other ‘popular’ girls. Sara’s eyes widened with rage as her little brother and his friends all stared in her direction.

“Sara,” Rodrick stared, his eyes full of fear. “I… I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest, smartest girl in the world.”

Sara’s face went pale as she slowly turned to Lauren with all eyes on her.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed silently.

It seemed no one had anything to offer.

“Sara, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you probably should be. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out as everyone watched.

Heather and her friends were now whispering and pointing in disgust.

“Listen, Sara, I get it if you never wanna talk to me again… But I really, really like you,” Rodrick announced in front of the entire building.

“Get on with it already!” another impatient onlooker shouted.

“Right, yeah, here goes,” he continued, rambling as he signaled to the band to start playing. “This song is for you, Sara Walter.”

Bill waved to her excitedly, completely unable to read the room as he tried to make the situation less intense. She watched, completely frozen as the band started playing. It was a bit rocky in the first few seconds, but then, she immediately recognized the song after the first few chords.

Struck by the effort that went into coordinating the entire thing, Sara could hardly control her racing thoughts. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Rodrick for the spectacle, or charmed by the gesture, or creeped out by the entire thing.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you…” the sixteen year old boy sang shakily in front of the crowd, his vocals questionable at best.

“'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now,”

Some people in the room, namely Heather’s group, laughed and whispered as Rodrick took the stage. Eventually, the teasing throughout the room got to be brutal, but he still persisted, trying his best not to break.

“God, he’s an idiot, but I still feel kinda bad,” Sara murmured.

“Sara. I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You need to go kiss that boy right now.”

“Seriously? I’m just gonna run back into his arms because he made a fool of himself for me?” she reasoned. “That’s his whole brand!”

“Sara,” Lauren reminded her, her approach stern but caring. “Would Jake Anderson ever have performed your favorite slow song for you in a room full of people, even if his singing was pretty dog shit?”

Sara sat in silence for a moment as everyone still looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What about Tyler Hayden? Or Lenwood Heath?”

“Okay, I get your point,” Sara said softly.

“I haven’t seen anybody give this much of a fuck for you since you were with Nadine,” Lauren admitted. “And you know how much I liked you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sara thought, considering her options.

“I think he really means what he says. Even if he’s fucking stupid,” Lauren told her.

Sara just sighed, looking up at Rodrick on the platform as he sang for her, never taking his eyes off her even once. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

He sang like his life depended on it, which it kind of did. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she saw a look of genuine regret in his eyes that day. All she could think about was how much she really did like Rodrick, all the way until the end of the song.

It ended and a complete silence washed over the room, as just about everyone just stood around waiting for a resolution. Even security had been waiting until the spectacle was over to intervene. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time that yielded any interesting results.

Of course, Heather and her friends wouldn’t stop whispering, but Rodrick refused to pay them any mind. He cleared his throat as the song ended, staring out at Sara with a sad, dopey look in his eyes as he prayed she’d forgive him.

“Fuck it,” Sara muttered to herself, walking out onto the rink.

She marched up to the platform looking both angry and confused. Rodrick didn’t know what to expect, and slowly stepped down in shock. He stood right in front of her, walking up to her as he waited for her to react to him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t know how to make it up to you—”

“I don’t care,” she said finally, a resolve in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Rodrick asked, ignoring the girls who were pointing and making fun.

“That means, fuck it, Rodrick Heffley, I’m really starting to like you too.”

Rodrick’s grunt of surprise was muffled into a spontaneous kiss as Sara jumped into his arms, which was met with a mostly positive reaction from their audience. He was hesitant at first, slowly warming up to her again as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her lips like he’d never get the chance to again.

After a moment, they remembered where they were, and Rodrick awkwardly set her down on the ground with reluctance. He looked up and down nervously, not sure what to say now.

“Can we go?” Sara asked, uncomfortable as she looked around.

“Yes,” he nodded automatically, willing to comply to her every whim, “Yes. We can.”

After being kicked out of the roller rink, again, Rodrick and the rest of the band walked out to the parking lot, reviewing their performance that night.

“You know, I know we’re metal and all, but that was fucking beautiful,” Ben seemed to be teary-eyes.

Rodrick and Sara stepped outside for a moment, as she leaned against the wall in silence, trying to think. Knowing what might comfort her, Rodrick pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, opening it as he offered it to her. Nodding appreciatively at the gesture, Sara took one and held it in her mouth as he lit it for her.

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick blurted out finally, a pained but far away expression on his face, “I, uh… I didn’t know how else to show you I meant what I said. That I really, really like you.

“It’s okay,” Sara sighed, just hoping to move on from the issue, “I understand. Really. We all backtrack. I’m over it.”

“No, really. I don’t want you to think I made a scene just to distract from the way I acted,” he said slowly. “I really meant what I said—”

“Rodrick,” she said, eyes wide open, “It’s fine. It’s done. I’m over it.”

“No, I owe you an explanation,” he sighed, “I… I’ve just never had a real girlfriend before…”

“Dude, this isn’t exactly breaking news,” she looked at him with dead eyes.

“Okay, can you just not be a total fucking asshole for like one second?” Rodrick demanded with laughter.

“Okay, fine,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “I’m listening.”

The look on her face was less than convincing.

“You’re a bitch,” Rodrick laughed, no longer able to take himself seriously, “You’re a fucking bitch,” he pointed at her, his finger less than an inch from her face.

“Oh yeah?” she teased with a light chuckle, cigarette butt dropped to the ground and forgotten.

“Yeah.”

He stood in front of her, trying to remain serious as he leaned against the wall, his hand resting just above her head.

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he repeated playfully, trying to perfect his more serious demeanor.

“Am I a bitch, or are you just a little bitch?” Sara proposed, intentionally provoking him.

“No. You’re just a bitch,” he promised her.

Neither were sure exactly how it happened, but as he got in her face and challenged her, he attempted to jokingly pin her to the wall. At first, this entailed his arm resting on her chest, but then suddenly turned into something else entirely.

Rodrick didn’t intend it at all, but suddenly, the both of them found his hand slipped as he held her by the throat, still grinning.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he told her, before coming to and realizing that he was actually choking her.

First, his eyes fluttered as he realized the mistake he’d made, but once he saw he’d reaction, he felt himself giving into it.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, his finger pads pressing on her pressure points harder.

She softly sighed in excitement, the contact with the pressure points heightening the experience even more. Rodrick looked at her with pleading eyes as he choked her, admiring her gratuitously.

He leaned in to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as he pressed her against the wall with his large hand wrapped around her neck. She reacted by pulling him in by the collar, making him feel something even more euphoric. She deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth as he slowly moved his leg up her body, not stopping until his knee trailed down to her center.

For just a moment, he stopped kissing Sara, huffing softly into the warm skin of her neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna see you fuck my knee right now?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it’s hot.”

He chuckled happily as he sucked on her neck, roughly biting and sucking. He pushed his knee against her, practically fucking her with it against the wall behind the roller rink. She quietly groaned in frustration as she tried to align herself perfectly on his knee.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, eyes closed as he kissed all over her neck. “I hope you know you could ask me for anything. I’d do anything for you, or to you.”

“You’re so sexy,” Sara whined.

“I’m serious. If you wanted me to, I’d eat it from the back, and enjoy it,” he said completely deadpan. “All I wanna do is take you home and lay you down and make you come any way I know how.”

“We should probably stop this,” Sara thought intuitively, “Before this wall ends up pregnant.”

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you. And not cuz I think you’re hot,” Rodrick stated. “Honestly. I just see you and I wanna give you everything.”

“You already have,” she confessed, never having seen anyone so willing to risk things for her.

-

A/N: not sure if this is good, wrote it after doing a line

-

[feroluce]

Connecting dots tonight (didn't connect shit, I've connected them, etc) because of this post about item descriptions to do with Sampo I saw a few days ago and! I feel like there are so many interesting things that could be implied from this!! Because the recipe for the High-Tech Protective Gear is given to you by Bronya (before the IPC invaded Belobog!), who says this little interesting tidbit about it:

This is an item from before the Eternal Freeze, 700 years ago. Even to the rest of the universe, it would be SORELY outdated. It cannot be made in Belobog anymore due to the loss of entire eras. It is effectively useless; this recipe had to be somewhere gathering dust, kept around solely for archival purposes. There is no reason for Sampo to know about this item or have any idea how it works and yet. AND YET. He's just running around selling knock offs!!

He shouldn't even know how to make these, but the fact that he does means Sampo either

had the blueprints from off-world before he came to Belobog (most likely but also most boring answer)

broke into Qlipoth Fort and copied down the blueprints (completely plausible - he's possibly shown doing exactly that in his splash art)

found another copy out in the ruins of the old world (also completely plausible - Sampo is astoundingly resilient against both the Fragmentum and the cold, as noted by Lynx haha)

Meanwhile, the Inferior Protective Gear recipe comes from an NPC in the underground, and when she gives it to you, she talks about building robots and the robot fighting scene sorry about the quality I didn't have screenshots for her dialogue so I had to use wiki

Which makes me feel like it's safe to say that the inferior gear is mostly being used in the underground, especially by the vagrants and their robots for fights, because...well, who else would use it? Cocolia has made it illegal to explore too far into the Snow Plains, and besides, it's way too dangerous for most civilians even WITH gear. The Silvermane Guards are funded by official sources, they have no reason to rely on Sampo for armor. So it makes sense for an underground mechanic to know the recipe; there's probably not as much market for it up in the overworld.

And if you look at the descriptions, you can see why this probably wasn't something that could be made in Belobog anymore; it requires a charging system of some sort.

We know it's not a problem with the basic materials because all three ingredients can be found right in the administrative district. But the underground only has two of them; somehow, despite being in the planet's crust, and literally crawling with robots...there is no metal down there. It isn't found anywhere, sold by anyone, or dropped by anything. And metal just so happens to be the one ingredient Sampo replaces in his knock off version.

The Inferior Gear uses trash instead, something which, going by the words of that same mechanic, is MORE than abundant in the underground- any good quality parts are extremely difficult to come by down there.

Anyway, all his shadiness aside, I love the implication that Sampo is smart enough to be able to take this item that no one else on the planet probably knows anything about, and was able to figure out what he could replace, and how, and with what, in order to make it easily accessible to the people of the underground, even without access to overworld resources. Because his version DOES work! It literally gives you the exact same amount of defense boost as the IPC one!

Someone should absolutely still knock him around for it, though, world's most slappable face fr fjkdsjfdkjafk

[gracemain919]

Cannibal smut?? Pain kink is obvious.. because he braindead, probably obsession need to initiate it, or does cannibal has sexual interest at all??? I think he's quite braindead enough to not have any desire at all??? Any smut with any leader is ok too

The Cannibal(oc):

(The Fungus universe)

Tw: Yandere, Masochism, Smut.

(quick writing)

Another stressful day… Having to sit in meetings and hear the leaders bicker about who should you spend time with. Especially when they expect you to agree with them. God it’s exhausting.

Well, maybe you deserve some sort of relief with no strings attached. You know?

And that’s how you found yourself riding Johnson. Quite literally. Muffled gasps as you went up and down at the pace you liked. Not like he would complain.

That’s the thing you enjoyed. No requests, no demands, just a simple fuck and then you could leave.

Not because he was an idiot. Not entirely. He was still a man with desires no matter how small. The cannibals are just simply neglected by the other leaders even with Johnson’s high status. They were considered a nuisance by the Liar’s standards so they're grateful for any crumb of sexual pleasure.

“Please…, please hurt me” he silently begged as you kept moving looking for your own pleasure in this whole ordeal but his pitiful face only excited you. Maybe you could be merciful.

Grabbing a nearby knife you stabbed his chest probably piercing a lung. Blood tainted your thighs but you didn't care as The Cannibal could only smirk at the thrill. “Again,” he asked like an excited child and you didn't disappoint. More holes to decorate his already fucked up body.

Even with the power to heal, his body has deformations. The hands that gripped your hips were plagued to be the color black. Sharp talons replaced where there should be fingers and the black tint of color trailed down his arms ending up covering some parts of his chest. He was one of the many examples of the corrupted.

“Stay still,” you ordered as the room you were in felt smaller as if you both were the only ones there when in reality some thirsty corrupted might be listening in. You didn't fear such facts. It became more than normal for privacy to be disregarded.

You just enjoyed the sensation of heat building up in your stomach as you started rubbing your own clit while the Cannibal eyed his wounds with love-sick eyes. “Need help?” he asked with a new sudden interest in your actions.

“No… just keep… still” you moaned continuing to grind your hips against his member before the familiar knot of tension broke leaving you in ecstasy.

You were out of breath letting a strange sense of calm watch over you as Johnson released his grip on your hips as he just watched. Waiting for anything to allow him to stand or continue but you were satisfied.

Now you could leave and not have to see his face for another week probably… wasn't he so easy to use and please?

(The outcome/start of this whole interaction depends on the reader)

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Kind of a dumb request but how about team DEFY + any girls you want with an s/o who somehow managed to build a mech straight out of Armored Core? Insanely maneuverable, loads of guns, can fly, etc and s/o built it in a garage with a box of scraps lol

(GFL/Genshin Impact) Task Force DEFY, Amber, Jean, Fischl, and Yoimiya's S/O building an Armored Core Mech

(Video Source: Pongsifu on YT) Luckily for you, I have been binging Armored Core 6 for the past month, and will hop on ANY request to talk/write about anything Mecha related.

12 stared at the giant 10 meter mechanical behemoth that had suddenly made its home inside Griffin's Hangar.

(AK-12) "...We didn't always have that, right?"

The machine's chest slowly opened and revealed a cockpit containing S/O, waving hello from the seat.

Apparently, they had constructed the mech out of spare parts lying around.

(AK-12) "Impressive...But, why exactly did Griffin have that many parts lying around? And how did you find guns that big?"

On the battlefield, she watches the mech fly around at almost breakneck speed, watching them zip around and eradicate one base after the other.

Kicking tanks and shooting helicopters out of the sky, it was far more effective to watch them fight instead of having to do anything.

(AK-12) "Hm. We'll be out of a job at this rate."

94 knew this was going to happen.

T-Dolls would only last so long on the battlefield before they were replaced by the next best thing.

However, she sure as hell wasn't expecting S/O of all people to surpass her, with a mech constructed out of junk parts no less.

It was honestly awe-inspiring what humans could engineer for the sole purpose of destruction.

And it was also physically impossible. Something that size should not be quad-wielding miniguns and moving that fast.

(AN-94) "...How has your machine not collapsed from the Earth's gravity?"

94 is more confused than anything.

15 was impressed more than anything.

She knew S/O was an engineer, but to construct a mech out of the parts they had was nothing short of a miracle and logic-defying technical prowess.

(AK-15) "How does your machine constantly reload the missiles while on the field? It is the only weapon you seem to have, and no one constructed missiles that large, even during World War 3."

She can't help but wonder why DEFY was even needed if Griffin had engineers like S/O around.

Well, at least S/O was on their side.

(RPK-16) "I wonder if humanity will wipe itself out faster with these new machines."

16 is fascinated by the human desire to make machines to wipe out life faster.

Granted, Griffin usually just fought Sangvis which consisted nothing of machines, but it would only be a matter of time until everyone else had their own version of S/O's mech.

And probably not one constructed out of junk either.

(RPK-16) "I must ask, S/O. How can you be in the cockpit of that thing and not reduce yourself to jelly? Surely the G-Force alone would kill you?"

Well, it's not the first thing that humans have done that confused her.

(Angelia) "Hmph. Why did they even bother calling us if they had you here? And could you have done that this entire time?"

Angelia is impressed and annoyed.

If S/O could create a hulking machine of death before, why did they only decide to do it now?

She both dreads and admired S/O's tenacity. To make such an effective machine out of junk took a hell of a lot of elbow grease.

Angelia doesn't question it, seeing that it's working alright so far, but she definitely wants to look into upgrading it.

(Angelia) "S/O, with me. We're painting DEFY's logo on it."

(Amber) "THAT IS SO COOL!"

Amber could create Baron Bunnies with a lot of yarn, but S/O could make a machine that dwarfed Ruin Guards with some random pieces of metal!

(Amber) "You have got to teach me how to do that! And lemme ride it too!"

Amber demands to fly with S/O, even though she can't go nearly as fast as they can.

She watches as S/O wipes out entire nests of monsters before leaping away with its mantis-like legs to the next location.

Honestly, it made her feel jealous.

(Amber) "Heeey, can I ask one of those for my birthday! I bet it'll make flying around Mondstadt a breeze!"

Though as the outrider, she kindly asks S/O not to park the giant machine weighing presumably hundreds of tons in the city.

For obvious reasons.

The color on Jean's skin fades when she heard Klee helped S/O build a brand new toy.

One that put her bombs to shame.

And seeing it park itself next to the cathedral, waving hello to her as she was standing at the entrance-

She was about ready to faint.

(Jean) "S/O! Get down from there right this instant!"

Jean gives S/O and Klee an earful for making such an absolute monstrosity that could potentially damage the land and city!

But seeing it in action and fast it disposed of a Hilichurl camp, it filled her with pride and dread.

Pride for her S/O's creative ingenuity, but absolute fear for what S/O and Klee could make next.

Especially considering how fast S/O's machine moved, and the weapons it had.

Where did Klee find the gunpowder for quad-cannons mounted on it?!

(Jean) "I pray that it won't blow up the city on accident..."

(Fischl) "...WHAT?!"

Fischl completely breaks character upon seeing the giant machine staring at her.

(Fischl) "How did...Why...?! Get down from there and tell me how this mechanical monstrosity came to be!"

(Oz) "You just want to ride the machine yourself, Mein-"

(Fischl) "SILENCE!"

...But yes, she constantly nags S/O to let their Prinzessin give the machine a try.

She finds it so friggin' cool, and desperately wants one of her own, in purple!

She watches with some kind of morbid satisfaction watching S/O's machine wipe out their enemies in electrical explosions.

(Fischl) "I hereby dub your steel horse…Raven, of the 621th star!"

(Oz) "…Why 621?"

Oh, that's where all of Yoimiya's spare fireworks have been going into.

(Yoimiya) "HOLY CRAP! What on earth did you make, S/O?!"

The machine seemed like it leapt from another world!

Especially with how fast it moved, honestly she was amazed S/O wasn't vomiting their guts out as soon as they exited.

While it seemed like it would do massive damage, instead they used it for something even better.

As the machine soared above the skies of Inazuma, the cannons on the arms and shoulders fired toward the moon, the starry night exploding into hundreds of beautiful colors!

They had transformed their machine into a firework powerhouse!

And with how fast it moved, it was able to provide a show from one island to another!

(Yoimiya) "Next festival, you're letting me ride with you! I want to see the work we've done up close!"

[bats-and-birds-24]

Chapter 2:

Talia could hear the muffled sobs from behind the door.

Her father must have informed him then.

The two sentries standing guard before Jason's room acted as though they heard nothing. The result of intense disciplinary training from the league.

She dismissed them with a mere wave of the hand. Talia barely noticed their deep bows as they left their post.

She knocked twice. No answer. She cracked open the door to see a young man on his knees, eyes red and puffy from crying.

Talia lifted Jason's face up to hers. 

She found no trace of the bright young boy with a sharp tongue and sharper wit left in him. What she had before her was a young man broken by the burdens of life placed on him at too young an age.

His body no longer had the scrawny build of a malnourished child. Now, he was a tall teenager with a fighter's lean build.

There was still time for him to grow and Talia knew that in time, her sons would surpass Bruce in both height and strength.

"How could he replace me?" Jason croaked out.

The question broke her stream of thought.

"He didn't replace you habibi, he most likely had to take on another Robin after your death. You know how Gotham is." Talia soothed him, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I know how Gotham is, that's why I'm mad that he has a new Robin. He got lucky with Dick, and he should have learned a lesson about putting kids in spandex and having them jump off roofs and fight costumed asylum escapes when I died. Now there's another stupid kid who's following Batman around and will probably get himself killed as well." He raged.

Talia's heart hurt as she hurt her son speaking ill of her beloved, but she steeled herself.

He needed to know the truth.

"Jason, are you aware that the reason Bruce made you Robin, is because you were marked?"

"What's that mean?" Jason asked, confused as he collected himself.

Talia sat on the floor beside him and began to explain, "There's a curse in Gotham where a select group of people are marked with a symbol of the bat. They are destined to become vigilantes by choice or by circumstance."

His eyes widened, he got up and began to take off his clothes and turned his back to the mirror. 

"Why didn't he say anything?" His voice barely a whisper.

Talia sent a fond glance towards Jason, "He wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible. Also, at the time, Bruce didn't have much proof aside from the matching marks. He needed to know more. You know Bruce, he never says anything, unless he has all the facts."

Jason staggered back to his bed, "I think I'm going to need a minute."

"Of course." Talia nodded.

She shut the door behind her.

The muffled sobs were now replaced with an eerie silence.

Her footsteps were the only sounds left to be heard.

Jason stared up at the ceiling, his entire worldview shattered for the third time in two months.

The first was when Bruce, his dad, failed to save him from the Joker. The second was when he realized that not even death was concrete in his life, as he clawed his way up from his own grave. The third, when he was told that he was marked, the choices he made, not really his.

The last one grated on him the most. He could live with Bruce not being as perfect as he once thought, he could live with coming back to life, but when faced with the prospect that the life you lived was already decided for you, that crossed the line.

It was as though he was a kid again, back in Crime Alley, where society already decided he was a criminal, and given the lack of opportunities, it really was the only viable path for him.

He grit his teeth. Everything he had gone through, nearly starving to death every winter in the Alley, watching his mother get high on drugs, becoming homeless after her death, to becoming Robin after a fateful encounter with Batman. It was all predetermined, his choices irrelevant.

He could live with the fact that he got blown up by the Joker thanks to his own mistakes, but if it was already meant to be, what was the point of doing anything? Was his life just to suffer for Gotham's sins? 

Jason contemplated offing himself with one of the many weapons at his disposal, but then decided against it. Odds are, his mark won't let him die that easily, at the very least Talia wouldn't. He'd probably get dunked in the Lazarus pit again and lose what little sanity he had left.

In thought, he glanced out the window, at the rows of assassins training.

He wondered what his replacement was up to. Feelings of resentment aside, he felt for the kid. Bruce probably didn't tell him about the mark either, out of concern for his childhood (Jason had to roll his eyes at that, if B was so concerned about their innocence, then he wouldn't have them beating up criminals in the streets) or fear that he'd run away.

Jason tamped down a surge of jealousy, it wasn't fair that some rich kid from Bristol was living his life.

He stretched and headed out to the training grounds. If his life was already destined to be a mess of vigilantes and criminals, preparing for it was the least he could do.

[momavhagarfinallyconcureddorne]

The Ex-Files: Vettel & Rozzi in Imola

The Ex-Files Masterlist Main Masterlist

Summary: Claudia Rozzi, Retired F1 driver and Charles Leclerc, current F1 driver for Ferrari had once upon a time a seemingly perfect and passionate relationship but in the middle of the ‘22 season Rozzi dropped off the face of the earth. What happens when the two are forced back into the vicinity of each other, can they forgive each other?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Ex!Oc (Claudia Rozzi)

Warning: Google translated languages, online hate, angst, let me know if there's more.

Twitter

Real Life

“À QUOI PENSIEZ-VOUS? (WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?)” Was yelled so loudly through Claudia's phone by her mother that people on the other side of the principality could probably hear the woman yelling at her daughter. Whilst the two women often didn't get along, Claudia had tendencies to call her mother and ask for her opinion because she knew her mother had good instincts and Mrs Rozzi had always respected her daughter's drive and passion for her career. “NE VOUS SOUVENEZ-VOUS PAS DE CE QUI S’EST PASSÉ LA DERNIÈRE FOIS! (CAN'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPEND LAST TIME!)”

“Bonjour Mère, comment vas-tu ? Je vais bien Claudia, comment vas-tu ? Quelque chose d’excitant s’est passé dans votre vie récemment ? Eh bien, en fait, je... (Hello Mother, how are you? I'm well Claudia, how are you? Anything exciting happening in your life recently? Well actually I…)” A tired Claudia answered, who had just woken up by her phone ringing at four o clock in the morning as she lay wrapped in her heavy and warm duvet.

Whilst rambeling trying to get her mother to calm down, she pulled on the blinds, allowing the Mediterranean sun to creep through the windows. Only in the early mornings would the sun lay heavily on the flat as a building blocked it during the rest of the day.

“Arrête ça! (Stop that!)” Claudias mother roared at her daughters antics.

“J’ai juste pensé que ce serait bien de... (I just thought it would be nice to…)” Claudia started before getting cut off.

"Qui, sain d’esprit, retournerait dans cette équipe ? Et ce garçon quand même ? (Who in their right mind would go back to that team? And that boy nonetheless?)"

This was how most of their conversations went, neither would listen to the other and in the end they would just say goodbye without resolving it and never bring it up again or realise that the two of them had been saying exactly the same thing but with different words and therefore end the conversation.

"Maman, n’est-ce pas toi qui as dit que je devais saisir toutes les chances de revenir en F1 ? (Mum, wasn't it you that said I should take every chance to get back into F1?)" Claudia said groggily, as she ran a hand through her hair to take a look at the time before turning over and slowly start running her hand thorugh her dogs fur. Claudia had found her little puppy Red, named after her then team, out in the middle of the street right outside of her then flat.

"Eh bien, je ne m’attendais pas à ce que vous retourniez chez Ferrari, que vous alliez chez Williams et que vous remplaciez cet américain à la place ! Tu as déjà conduit pour eux, je suis sûr qu’ils aimeraient te revoir, (Well I didn't expect you to go back to Ferrari, go to Williams and replace that american instead! You've driven for them before, I'm sure they would love to have you back,)" Mrs Rozzi hissed through the phone, her voice almost giving up in the end since she didn't take a breather during her entire monolouge.

"Maman, je ne peux pas faire ça. Ferrari est bon, ils ont un nouveau directeur d’équipe qui semble savoir ce qu’il fait. C’est une excellente occasion de montrer que je suis toujours aussi bon et que je veux un siège pour la saison prochaine. Je devrai juste être cordial quand je le verrai, alors que Fred m’a promis que je n’aurais pas à le faire à moins que cela ne soit nécessaire. Et je peux le faire puisque je suis généreusement rémunéré. J’étais leur soi-disant dernier espoir, alors ils ne se sont pas vraiment retenus, (Mum, I can't do that. Ferrari is good, they have a new team principal who actually seems like he knows what he's doing. It's a great oppertunity to show that I'm still as good and want a seat for the next season. I'll just have to be cordial when I see him, whick Fred has promised I wont have to unless neccesairy. And I can do that since I'm being compensated generously. I was their so called last hope so they didn't really hold back,)" Claudia argued back whilst rubbing her face with the palm of her hand as Red climbed up on her bed and decidning to lay down on her mothers chest and curl up there.

"Claudia..."

"Regardez, c’est tôt le matin, nous sommes dans des fuseaux horaires différents et vous m’avez réveillé. Je dois être à Imola dans quelques heures, alors au revoir. Je te parlerai plus tard et je dirai à Seb que papa dit bonjour, (Look it's early in the morning, we're in different timezones and you woke me up. I have to be in Imola in a few hours so goodbye. I'll talk to you later and I'll tell Seb that dad says hello,)" Claudia cut off her mother for once before ending the call and throwing her phone down onto her bed and getting up with Red in her arms to get ready to drive the almost six hours drive to meet Seb an get everything ready for not only her first race since 2022 but also the running of Ratzbergers and Sennas cars.

Instagram

claudia97rozzi

liked by scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel, wbuxtonofficial and others

claudia97rozzi Buongiorno Imola. Ecco una giornata con me e il meraviglioso Seb. Abbiamo fatto un giro in città prima di scendere in pista e vedere le meravigliose auto che guideremo questo fine settimana. Sono onorato che mi sia stato chiesto di guidare la vettura di Ronald Ratzberger questo fine settimana al fianco di Sebastian ad Ayrton Sennas. Non vedo l'ora di vedervi tutti questa settimana, e ai tifosi: sono molto entusiasta di tornare a gareggiare per tutti voi questo fine settimana e spero in un buon risultato.

Qui abbiamo anche una foto molto bella di Seb che si infastidisce con me e con tutta la mia eccitazione questo fine settimana.

Forza Ferrari Sempre <3

see translation

Good morning Imola. Here's a day with me and the wonderful Seb. We took a ride around town beforeheading out on the track and seeing the wonderfulcars we'll be driving this weekend. I am honoured that I have been asked to drive Ronald Ratzberger's car this weekend alongside Sebastian in Ayrton Sennas. I can't wait to see you all this week, and to the tifosi: I'm very excited to be back racing for all ofyou this weekend and hopefully a good result. 

Here we also have a very nice photo of Seb getting annoyed with me and all my excitement thisweekend.

Forza Ferrari Sempre <3

3,981 comments

user1 This will be more entertaining than the current F1 season

→ user2 seriously 😴🥱 → user3 👏👏👏

user4 ARE YOU KIDDING ME I WILL SEE YOU ON MY BIRTHDAY AT THE RACE DRIVING SENNA‘S CAR WHAT A BIRTHDAY PRESENT😭😭😭😭😭😭

user5 Are you kidding me? OMG two of best drivers of all time, together. Love you seb, we miss u.

user6 My first time at an F1 race and i will see my favourite athlete of all time is quite a highlight🤩

user7 I've started crying already

→ user8 AHAH SAME

so does anyone have an idea of what dog Red is haha? I have no idea, please help

taglist: @xoscar03 @meadhbhcavanagh @ironmaiden1313

[bubble-popping]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Punz's tower in summer

Dream would've never guessed it, but Punz liked to decorate.

It was warm on the Dream SMP, deep into summer, but with autumn on the horizon judging by the cool breeze. Dream's birthday was coming up.

More importantly, off the back of their largest and most devastating battle, Dream had to check in on all the many moving parts of his plan. One of those was his wolven mercenary.

Who, for whatever reason, was acting like it was just another day in the neighborhood.

"You look ridiculous," Dream told him, brow raised. They were lounging on a long chair, shades covering their eyes, not a care in the world.

They'd completely transformed their backyard, replacing all the grass with sand and the fountain with a pool. There were even faux palm trees constructed around the place, for fuck's sake.

Punz lifted his sunglasses to meet his gaze. "It's hot as balls out and you're wearing a hoodie and pants, but I look ridiculous?"

"Yes! You should be building defenses, not sitting on your ass!"

"Dude, we fucking smoked them." The merc sat up, shades pushed into his ash blond hair. "We won. They didn't stand a chance against us. So yeah, I'm gonna enjoy myself a little. You should try it."

"I can't even-can you put a damn shirt on? I can't take you seriously like this." Dream waved a dismissive hand, looking away from their half-naked body with a faint blush on his cheeks.

"I ain't got nothing to hide." He shrugged then stood from the chair only to sit at the edge of the pool. "Maybe if you relaxed a little, those L'Manberg guys wouldn't have so much to say about you."

"What the fuck? What, are you agreeing with them?"

They sighed, ear flicking like it did when they were frustrated. "Look, all I'm saying is, as the winners, we deserve to take a load off. And that's what I'm doing."

There was no getting through to them. He needed Punz to take these things more seriously, but he clearly had his mind made up about this. Dream turned to leave, wanting to ease his thoughts with a peaceful walk, but that was abruptly stopped when he felt a wave of water soak him from behind.

He gasped, cold shocking his system and freezing him in place until he whipped around to confront the offender. Except, that just got him a face full of more water.

"You little-!" Dream growled and rushed forward, catching Punz off-guard by tackling him and sending them both into the pool.

Thankfully not hitting his head on the bottom, the change in gravity and density surprised Dream enough to make him lose his grip. They each quickly resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, but Punz had the audacity to laugh between breaths.

"Dude," he hiccupped, not even trying to hide his grin, "you look like a wet cat." And that was apparently the funniest thing in the world to him. Even worse, their laugh was stupidly contagious. Dream couldn't help but to chuckle a little.

"Yeah, well, you smell like a wet dog. Asshole." Satisfied with that gut-wrenching insult, Dream swam and hauled himself up onto the side of the pool. "Great, now I'm fucking soaked..."

"Hey," they started, laughter settling down as they soon joined him, "I'm not the one that put us in the pool."

"You got me wet in the first place!" Dream bit back, wringing out the end of his hoodie that was now a dark green from saturation.

"Woah, dude." Their hands raised in surrender, smirk on their lips. "You don't gotta tell me all that."

Dream gave him a confused look until realization set in and a blush consumed his entire face. "Not like that, idiot!" He shoved him aside, only succeeding in making him dissolve with laughter again.

And he tried to be mad--because his clothes were drenched and his hair was a mess and any plans he had for the day were ruined since he'd have to wait for everything to dry out--yet, he just found himself fondly watching how their shoulders bounced and their tail wagged.

It was... cute.

That probably wasn't a thought he should have about a business partner.

[seafoamreadings]

week of february 11th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: mars into aquarius makes you (more of?) a genius. really! but you can't expect to just know everything all at once. little downloads find their way into your brain without you knowing how you know them but it doesn't change the fact that you know. not everyone will listen, but at least you know.

taurus: this extremely aquarian week puts your reputation and public image into focus. it may clash with the way you actually intend to present yourself or the way that you see yourself. if you find that's the case and you're not happy about it, it is safe to make changes to either arena, although uranian involvment does mean things not go quite according to plan. ultimately it ends up in your favor most likely anyway.

gemini: air sign vibes continue to increase dramatically this week. it's especially aquarian so ideally your focus is on haute intellectual pursuits; the mental equivalent of junk food and tabloids is all well and good but it simply won't suffice this week.

cancerians: if you've been wanting to try your hand at the occult or something that is a bit socially taboo, this week is the right time for it. especially by the weekend, but you could start early and build up. alternatively pay off debts, take out loans if necessary, invest, etc. if that suits you!

leo: if pluto entering aquarius did a number on your partnerships, increasingly aquarian vibes help you get back out there, and/or heal things, and/or come to terms with how much you love being on your own, or whatever the case may be; there's also a good chance of new love or commitment entering your life in the next three or four weeks.

virgo: if you haven't already started such a process, tear down your entire daily routines, diet, and/or exercise plans and rebuild. don't forget either step! it isn't going to work to try to start new on a pre-existing foundation, and it isn't going to work to tear something down that isn't working without replacing it with something better.

libra: the steadily (actually rapidly) increasing air vibe does a lot for your fun and romance. don't stifle it with obligations and responsibilities; do what you absolutely have to do, and then do more if it lights you up truly, but other than that, do what brings you bliss this week. especially if that involves any form of flirtation.

scorpio: you're one of those lucky signs with, arguably, two chart rulers. they are mars and pluto, and they meet up with each other in your 4th house, aquarius, today. if you have planets or angles in the first few degrees of scorpio or last few of libra, this can be quite challenging and i suggest being very careful to avoid accidents for possible violence, but for the most part this can be empowering to you, especially if you channel the vibes into your physical home as a sanctuary or, in this case, more of a lair.

sagittarius: if you can participate in any sort of positive activism or a cause you sincerely care deeply about, this is the best time to do it, especially the closer to home you can keep it. at the same time, be cautious as accidents and even violence are probably more likely under these influences.

capricorn: the world order's shift from earth to air really finalizes and hits home this week. you're out of the spotlight in some way, but it probably suits you. maybe it is more like escaping from a search light.

aquarius: yet more ingresses into your sign are poised to occur. it is mostly beneficial for you. the only caveat is that when mars conjoins pluto, you will be more prone to bodily or mental harm or injury. so go the extra mile to care for your corporeal form and enjoy the aura of magnetism you're to be granted.

pisces: when things pile into aquarius, the sign right before yours, for most people it's a simply aquarian time. for you though, since that's your 12th house, it's... almost piscean. be sure to do your shadow work, dream practices, and any other suitable 12th house activities this week with both mars and venus joining the party in that part of the sky.