#Lif Modeli

[the-admin-behind-the-slaughter]

wait wait wait wait wait wait wait

WHAT????

[waywardsalt]

mmmmm

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: September 19, 2024

Reworked Character #9: Tequila

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, torture, suicide, child abuse, cannibalism, crime, alcoholism, and divorce.

Real name: Sermeg Bracquemond-Kagamihara (he legally changed his name to Sosuke N. Kanikoja)

Esper title: Avatar of Natural Creation and Endless Knowledge

Alias: Maestro of a Thousand Skirmishes

Nickname: Tequila

Occupation: Lieutenant General of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Brigadier General of the Regular Army, Army Chief of Staff for the Rebel Army (formerly), and mercenary for the Theophylaktos Union (formerly)

Retirement plans: Open a florist shop, become a philanthropist dedicated to supporting child welfare and war veterans, and establish a company that designs and manufactures affordable, electric vehicles

Special skills: Coordinating covert missions, and training programs for new recruits, proficiency in tactical planning and the operation of heavy machinery, mastery of disguise, and rescuing hostages

Esper abilities: His body possesses a unique adaptive ability, granting him resistance to extreme temperatures, toxins, and other hazards. In response to environmental stressors, his organs automatically secrete a protective, opalescent slime that coats them. This slime serves as a barrier, preventing harmful microorganisms from entering his body and shielding him from infections and diseases. It also repels toxic substances and deadly gases, safeguarding his organs from damage. Furthermore, the slime produces purplish-black cells that play a crucial role in his thermal resistance, helping to regulate his body temperature and enabling him to withstand extreme heat or cold temperatures

Moreover, he's able to intentionally shed his skin, peeling it off like a removable garment. Following its removal, his skin rapidly regenerates through a self-materialising process, restoring his epidermal layer. This process allows him to remove harmful organisms that may have attached to or burrowed into his skin. Shedding contaminated skin also enables him to regenerate healthy tissue and develop enhanced immunity and resistance to biological hazards, including toxins, bacteria, and other harmful substances.

By leveraging his photographic memory and manipulating his genetic code and organic mass, he can shapeshift into any form he has visually memorised. He can also teleport short distances, allowing him to suddenly disappear and reappear in locations with which he has partial or full familiarity. He boasts flexibility rivalling that of an octopus due to his extreme hypermobility, and agility nearly identical to that of a cheetah. Furthermore, his senses are incredibly acute, featuring eyesight as keen as an eagle's, hearing as sensitive as a bat's, a sense of smell as discerning as an elephant's, and touch sensitivity as refined as a star-nosed mole's. When sensing the presence of danger or untrustworthy individuals within his range of sight and hearing, his mind instantly kicks into fight or flight mode, impairing his impulsivity and heightening his hypervigilance. This triggers a sudden surge of adrenaline, preparing his body to either confront the threat or flee to safety.

He can clearly read emotions and thoughts by proximity to an individual's aura within a 6 ft (182.88 cm) boundary. Additionally, he possesses psychometry, granting him access to accurate knowledge of an object's or person's history through physical contact, which triggers brief yet remarkably vivid visions. He can sense celestial events, planetary alignments, and cosmic anomalies, allowing him to vaguely predict global changes. Furthermore, he can passively sense environmental changes to predict weather, earthquakes, and other meteorological and geological events.

He has black half-spheres on the palms of his hands, which possess a red-violet lustre and serve three distinct purposes. Firstly, they enable him to manipulate the organic fabric of sentient life forms and the four elemental forces that comprise the cosmos: earth, air, water, and fire. Secondly, they allow him to absorb memories and knowledge from the freshly deceased and bodies in various stages of decay. Lastly, by touching a sentient being or placing his hand in close proximity to one, they grant him the ability to communicate with them telepathically.

Hobbies: Gardening (especially cultivating deadly plants), playing underground poker games, watching demolition derby events, tinkering with and customising his own vehicles, and engaging in friendly fire incidents during covert missions with military organisations

Likes: Gourmet grilling, the innocent curiosity of children, enjoying a drink after a long battle, the symbolism and cultural significance of flowers, and exploring exotic destinations and natural wonders

Dislikes: Captivity, troublemakers, being stuck in tight spaces (especially during an escape), bureaucratic red tape, and witnessing his comrades and children being exploited and oppressed or caught in situations of gratuitous violence

Favourite food: Tequila (tequila sunrise is his most favourite) and his own gourmet grilled food

Sexuality: Panromantic graysexual

Gender: Male

Age: 50 (in 2022), 56 (in 2028), 58 (in 2030), 60 (in 2032), 62 (in 2034), 69 (in 2041), 71 (in 2043), 72 (in 2044), and 75 (in 2047)

Blood type: A-

Weight: 109 lbs. (49 kg)

Design: He’s a 5 ft (152.4 cm) Canadian ectomorph of French and Japanese descent with a lean, semi-lanky build, subtle softness around the midsection, and a weak yet surprisingly stocky musculature. He has sloping shoulders, beige skin (it was pale ivory during his younger years), and a small black mole on the right side of his chin. He has a missing second premolar on his lower jaw and heterochromia eyes: his right eye is a medium sky blue and his left eye is a deep cyan. Tequila sports a brownish-black spiky crew cut dyed a light auburn, which is paired with sideburns, semi-bushy eyebrows, and a slightly dishevelled five o'clock shadow. On his right outer thigh, he has a tattoo depicting a seven-horned Lamb of God, its legs bound, holding an olive branch in its mouth. The lamb is set against a backdrop of a gilded Chi Rho symbol (☧), which is encircled by a radiant, flaming aureola.

He bears numerous battle scars from past encounters, including: half of his upper back being heavily burned; a series of jagged cuts on his left arm caused by shrapnel; a deep, curved scar on his temple; a thin, horizontal knife scar on his chin; a slight cut on his left cheek from a bullet that flew past him; and a bullet wound below the right side of his diaphragm. Tequila also has a series of deep stab wounds on his right shoulder and right lumbar region, a severed tendon (flexor carpi ulnaris) in his left forearm, and a partially cut left thumb. After being experimented on, his body underwent significant transformations: his muscles now have a coppery hue with bronze streaks, his neck is adorned with bearded vulture feathers, his bones are gilded and steel-hard, and his legs are covered in shaggy, greenish-black fur.

His military gear consists of brass-plated goggles with yellow-orange lenses, a navy blue bandana mask, a bone white tank top with a slight rip just above the left hip, and greenish-black gloves. He wears army cargo pants in a camouflage pattern featuring cerulean, lavender grey, and Cambridge blue, which are tucked into spike-soled liver brown combat boots. His pants have two crudely stitched patches: a triangular brownish-red one on the right knee and a rectangular steel blue one on the middle of his left outer thigh. Tequila wears a metal dog tag necklace with his name, navy blue elbow and knee pads, a leather belt, a sheath for his combat knife, and a drop leg holster for a handgun with a silencer. A Prussian blue waist pack is secured to the back of his belt, containing a bronze-finished flask filled with his tequila cocktail of choice for the day.

He wears a linden green flight jacket, often left unzipped, featuring a brown wolf-fur lining, a metallic silver zipper, and gilded epaulets. The jacket has four pockets and boasts the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo emblazoned on the back. It has two hidden compartments designed for firearms, but typically stores a sheathed machete and a scoped bolt-action rifle instead. Additionally, he wears a reseda chartreuse armband on his left sleeve, adorned with the Regular Army insignia. He typically wears a blue-green Lightweight Helmet (LWH), but occasionally opts for a gold-edged wedge cap of linden green seal fur instead.

Over his tank top, he dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a cerulean, lavender grey, and Cambridge blue camouflage pattern, which carries around his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. He wears three dark grey bandoliers: one draped over his right shoulder holds flashbang grenades, another over his left shoulder holds smoke bombs, and a third wraps around his waist above his belt, holding ammunition for his handgun. Tequila carries around a steel blue load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a grappling hook, and a disguise kit that adapts to the specific requirements of each mission. It also contains a rocket launcher, grenade launcher, bazooka, flame gun, missile pod, practical tools like mechanic and lockpicking sets, and a photo album filled with Polaroid pictures.

The pockets of his flight jacket carry around a metallic blue-green lighter, the key to his motorcycle, noise-cancelling earplugs, and a hundred-eyed cowrie shell, a gift from Gimlet. Tequila also carries a collection of cherished photographs: one showing him with his ex-wife, Margaret, and their late son, Thomas; another with his former team, including a young Gimlet; a third featuring a Swiss brassy ringlet on a yellow mountain flower; a fourth capturing Red Eye playfully placing an orange cat on a sleeping Donald Morden; a fifth depicting him and Clark on a mountain hike; and a sixth showing him, Marco, Tarma, Gimlet, and Red Eye, taken one year prior to the Great Morden War.

He has a stash of cigars and a half-empty pack of cigarettes tucked away in the right pocket of his army cargo pants, while his left pocket is occupied by a burgundy instant camera, a digital recorder, a silver engagement ring featuring a princess cut diamond, and a golden wedding band. Ever since he encountered a Swiss brassy ringlet during a hike through the rocky meadows of the European Alps, he fell in love with them and proudly displays a pin depicting one on the left side of his flight jacket. He wears two distinctive necklaces: a black cord with a teardrop-shaped nazar charm and a gold chain holding a pendant of the Immaculate Heart of Mary impaled by a longsword.

His custom-made motorcycle is a glaucous BMW R75, adorned with forest green cheetah spots outlined in sandy beige. The motorcycle comes with a sidecar, which serves as storage for extra supplies and his load-bearing backpack. The sidecar features an intriguing design element: a Swiss brassy ringlet on the antler of an elk skull, proudly displayed on its side. The sidecar is outfitted with a greenish-black rocket turret, while two rotating miniguns are mounted on either side of the front wheel of his motorcycle.

Personality: He's a cunning, wise, rebellious polyglot with a strong aversion to being bossed around unjustly. As a thrill-seeker, he has a tendency to bluff and revels in the raw power and adrenaline rush that comes with high-intensity situations, which makes him feel alive. He has a strong sense of camaraderie with those he considers comrades and close friends, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and safety. Tequila is especially devoted to Marco, Tarma, Red Eye, Gimlet, Clark, and Eri, holding their well-being in the highest regard due to the deep affection he feels for them. Depending on the situation, he can be very blunt, believing that people need to quickly learn that the truth is often a hard pill to swallow. Whenever his patience is running thin or he deems it necessary, he isn't afraid to speak his mind, though his words can be abrasive and unsettling.

Despite his perpetual weary expression, he’s a fundamentally kind-hearted and morally upright leader. Tequila is a tough-as-nails and hypervigilant individual that has a tendency to engage in occasional reckless behaviour. He has a cynical, pessimistic outlook on life, which he occasionally masks through social drinking, reading the newspaper or immersing himself in his hobbies. As an introvert with an exceptionally high intellect, he finds it challenging to connect with others. He has a deep-seated compassion and strong protective instincts towards children who are vulnerable to abuse and exploitation. Tequila views it as a moral obligation to safeguard them from harm and foster a secure environment that allows them to thrive. When drunk, he exhibits clumsiness, boisterousness, sorrowfulness, physical aggression, and increased insulting behaviour (far more than usual). Additionally, he's even more likely to make awkward attempts to flirt with anyone who catches his eye.

He's particularly self-conscious about his height and extremely hates being teased about it. When someone teases him about his height, he tends to retaliate by rudely insulting them, often targeting their appearance-related insecurities. When he's feeling scared or furious towards someone who has visibly angered him, he has a habit of jumping on their back, which may follow up with an attack. Tequila has zero tolerance for cowardice and incompetence, viewing them as lame excuses for people to avoid putting in effort and failing to contribute meaningfully to their roles in society. He dislikes people who are overly pesky or slimy, individuals with a bratty and entitled attitude, unnecessary trouble, political corruption, and duplicity.

As a devout Catholic who also believes in the evil eye, he abhors war and can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for new military recruits, knowing their innocent worldview is likely to be shattered. Nevertheless, he recognizes that everyone has their own reasons for enlisting and refrains from criticising their choices. He becomes vengeful when he encounters people who have been unreasonably hurt or when he feels betrayed and devastated after losing something he deeply cares about. He’ll only betray someone or a cause if he senses that they’re crossing into morally reprehensible territory. He lives with sleep paralysis, atypical depression, and mild borderline personality disorder and PTSD. When he needs time for solitude and contemplation, he withdraws from others, seeks out a comforting space, and puts in his earplugs to block out the voices and distractions of those around him.

He harbours a deep-seated hatred towards his former friend, General Morden, stemming from his subsequent betrayal when Morden's megalomaniacal desire for world domination consumed him. He perceives Margaret as promiscuous and attention-seeking, disapproving of her flirtatious behaviour as a means to cope with loneliness. Despite their divorce, he still cares about her well-being and has been gradually rebuilding their relationship, attempting to alleviate her loneliness. He has a strong affinity for Gimlet, whom he sees as a surrogate son, striving to educate and guide him on the right path. However, he often finds himself disappointed by Vasser's ill-tempered bully attitude, his excessive thirst for blood and action, and his tendencies to slack off, cause mischief, and make unwanted advances towards women.

Backstory: Sermeg Bracquemond-Kagamihara was born on December 23, 1972 in Chichicastenango, Guatemala. His biological parents were Kafkasi Bracquemond, a French-Canadian construction worker from Trois-Rivières, Quebec, Canada, and Tsukiko Kagamihara, a Japanese-Canadian entrepreneur who owned an open-air market selling homemade Japanese craft goods. He had an adoptive sister who was six years older than him named Ximena, who had been abandoned by her father, struggling with alcoholism. As expected, he had inherited Tuatha Dé Danann DNA from his parents, which became noticeable when he frequently mentioned seeing a pair of glowing red eyes watching him. Sermeg's parents had also noticed that his intelligence grew at rapid speeds, which they greatly encouraged. Between the ages of 1 and 4, he read numerous books on various subjects, including mathematics, engineering, sociology, psychology, architecture, ancient history, geography, political science, and world religions. By the age of 5, he had taught himself to speak multiple languages, including Japanese, Korean, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and Romanian, and learned about their respective cultures.

Before Sermeg's 7th birthday, his father was assassinated by a hitman in retaliation for killing the right-hand man of a prominent Québécois organised crime family near Montreal. Prior to his death, Kafkasi had fled with his wife, Tsukiko, to Guatemala. The crime family, seeking revenge and viewing Tsukiko and her children as potential assets, had planned to force them into hard labour and prostitution. Out of fear, Tsukiko made the tough decision to put Sermeg and Ximena up for adoption, hoping they would be safe. Shortly after, Tsukiko vanished mysteriously, leaving behind only speculation that she had fallen prey to the Québécois crime family's sinister activities.

They were adopted by an organ harvester named Tecuani, who took pity on them after learning about the fate of their parents. Despite his illicit profession, Tecuani went out of his way to ensure that Sermeg and Ximena were well-fed and properly educated. He even taught them essential survival skills for navigating the dangers of the streets, giving them a better chance at thriving in a challenging world. However, their time together was short-lived, as Tecuani was promptly arrested after one of his employees reported him to the police for operating an illegal organ harvesting business.

As a result, Sermeg and Ximena were placed into the foster care system, where they experienced a tumultuous journey through four different foster families. The first family was neglectful and struggled with addiction, the second was intimidated by Sermeg's abnormal intelligence, and the third, although kind and lenient, harboured an uncle who posed a sexual threat to Ximena.

Tragically, their last foster family was a source of immense pain and suffering. The foster father, a business executive named Clifford, was controlling and abusive, lashing out physically and emotionally, especially when Sermeg dared to stand up for himself. The foster mother, a psychiatrist named Magdalena, failed to provide a safe and nurturing environment, neglecting their needs and belittling them with hurtful words that preyed on their insecurities. Ximena, who had always been dear to Magdalena, struggled with depression, PTSD, and body dysmorphia, which ultimately led to her eventual suicide when Sermeg was just 12 years old.

At age 15, Sermeg joined a newly formed cartel that promised him refuge and financial assistance in exchange for killing and cannibalising his foster parents. Initially hesitant due to his disgust at the idea of consuming his abusers, he was motivated by the prospect of exacting revenge. He followed through on the cartel's demands, completing his initiation and rapidly rising through the ranks thanks to his street smarts. He played a key role in gathering valuable intelligence for the cartel's boss and devising strategic plans for financial management and tactical attacks.

To cope with his emotional pain and seek excitement, he turned to drinking various tequila cocktails, eventually leading to an addiction and a particular fondness for tequila sunrise. His struggles with addiction led to him being dubbed "Tequila" by those around him, a nickname he unexpectedly embraced as part of his identity and later adopted as his codename for military operations.

The circumstances of his departure from the cartel are unclear, but rumours suggest that the cartel was either absorbed into or annihilated by a relatively obscure cult-like guerrilla group from Venezuela known as the Theophylaktos Union. However, it's confirmed that he did join the Theophylaktos Union at age 19, becoming a skilled mercenary and spy for the organisation. He admits that he had a boyfriend during his time in the Theophylaktos Union, but their relationship was cut short when his partner was killed in friendly fire. This was also when he began exploring mechanics and constructed his first custom-made motorcycle.

At the age of 21, during a raid on a Brazilian town, he encountered a frightened child clinging to her dead mother and her severely injured younger brother. Initially, he callously shot her, believing her to be an obstacle to fulfilling the Dark Lord's supposedly twisted desires. Yet, upon reflection, he questioned his actions and his allegiance to the Theophylaktos Union, ultimately realising that this path was not for him. He subsequently retired from the group, assumed the alias Sosuke N. Kanikoja for his protection, relocated to Trois-Rivières, Quebec, Canada, and sought rehabilitation to address his escalating alcohol addiction. He also turned to Catholicism as a way to find new meaning in life and began working as a bartender and cashier at a flower shop.

While working as a bartender, he met Hyakutaro, who had just completed a challenging mission for the Regular Army. They quickly formed a strong bond after sharing their personal struggles and aspirations. Hyakutaro encouraged him to join the Regular Army, hoping it would give him a sense of direction and purpose. Inspired by their conversation, he enlisted in the Regular Army at the age of 25 and went on to specialise in hostage rescue missions. He also developed expertise in camouflage, secret identities, and intelligence gathering, earning recognition as the Regular Army's top covert agent. His exceptional leadership skills, tactical planning, and recruitment abilities further propelled him to the rank of Brigadier General. Four years after joining the Regular Army and Intelligence Agency, he was among the first to be transferred to the newly established S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit, becoming one of its founding members, alongside Red Eye.

He met Margaret Southwood shortly after the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. was established, encountering her at the Combat Academy section of the Intelligence Division. He immediately fell in love with her and decided to ask her out on a few dates, which blossomed into a romance. As their relationship grew, they eventually got married and had a single child together, naming him Thomas. Tragically, their marriage was short-lived after their five-year-old son was killed by a drunk driver. As they both struggled to cope with their grief, Margaret turned to promiscuity and Tequila turned to drinking as a means of distraction. Unfortunately, these coping mechanisms created an insurmountable rift, leading to their divorce.

At age 39, after exiting a pub and heading back to a nearby Regular Army base on his motorcycle, he noticed a malnourished teenage boy lying in an alleyway with a bruised and bloodied face. He took great pity on the boy and promptly aided him, noticing the boy's eerie silence and uncanny resemblance to Thomas. He decided to head back to the base later and instead brought the boy to a restaurant, buying him lunch. After a couple of minutes of trying to encourage the boy to speak, he finally introduced himself as Vasser Gutenschiff-Wolstenholme and shared his story of taking to the streets to escape his abusive father, Kanan. Moved by Vasser's situation and seeing it as a duty to protect children from harm, he vowed to enact vengeance. With the assistance of Vasser, he assassinated Kanan by breaking into his house, then adopted Vasser through the Regular Army's orphan program.

A couple of years after Vasser's adoption, he met Morden unexpectedly while serving with the North American Garrison, which was assisting the European Garrison and Far Eastern Garrison in thwarting an Oceania military organisation's attempt to spark a full-scale nuclear war. Following the successful completion of this mission, they forged a bond over drinks and shared stories of their challenging childhoods. Morden also expressed his admiration for Tequila's courage in his espionage work and leadership abilities within the North American Garrison.

He would eventually become a revered mentor and friend to many, including Clark, Red Eye, Tarma, and Marco. Notably, he encouraged Vasser to join the Peregrine Falcons Squad, but this guidance had an unexpected consequence: Vasser began to reveal a more attention-seeking and bloodthirsty side, indulging in troublesome, slothful, and lecherous tendencies that led to several issues. In addition to rescuing hostages, he consistently went above and beyond to save children who were in imminent danger or at risk of harm, making their safety a top priority regardless of the mission. One mission that remains etched in his memory is when he rescued a group of children being trafficked and sold on the black market, while his team simultaneously took down the criminals responsible for this heinous crime.

He played a key role in the Arms Deal Barrage and defeating the remnants of the Serapion Fellowship, but the mission uncovered a shocking truth: the Regular Army was secretly involved in an arms deal with the aforementioned group, a revelation he shared with Gimlet, Sagan, Logan, Hyakutaro, Red Eye, Morden, and Allen O'Neil. This moment opened his eyes to the Regular Army's secret corruption, but he remained silent, fearing that speaking out would make him a target for swift assassination as a whistleblower.

Three years after the Central Park bombing, Morden secretly approached him at a bar and convinced him to defect. Believing it was a good opportunity, he quietly resigned from the Regular Army and S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. to join the Rebel Army. He excelled as a top-notch spy, often disguising himself as a Rebel in a woodland military uniform for land troops. He rose to become Morden's right-hand man, serving as the Army's Chief of Staff. However, after nearing one year of service, he discovered General Morden's true intentions and how he had fully succumbed to his megalomaniacal desires. Horrified, he promptly left the Rebel Army and defected back to the Regular Army, warning them about the impending rise of the Rebel Army. However, despite his inside knowledge, they were unable to prepare in time as General Morden successfully launched a surprise attack, overpowering them and rapidly consolidating his global dictatorship.

During the Great Morden War, he aided Marco in leading the governmental resistance against the Rebel Army. Although he held a higher military rank than Marco, he allowed Marco to take the initiative, recognizing his great potential to become a truly charismatic leader. After being ambushed by Morden and his forces, he was brutally tortured and forcibly killed in front of Marco and Tarma. However, Morden promised to bring him back in a greater form, sending his deceased body to Doctor Amadeus. Doctor Amadeus successfully revived Tequila, but as a semi-clone of Hyakutaro, significantly altering his existence.

[cyberrose2001]

hey hey hey how do you think op would be as a yandere? I am certain he is one to be protective and a bit demanding, and as yandere is lovesick, he's lovesick would be just thinking and daydreaming about a perfect life with you, but that dosen't affect on he's life as a warrior and leader much, because I think he would notice he's behavior and thoughts but if just any issues happej with he's loved one, he would just become more protective and protective to he's lovesick slowy corrupting him and turning him to a demanding, forceful and kind hearted protective bot towards them. The reader would just think he is just very worried ab them and not know ab he's lovesick feelings, but hust notive when he is kinda suspicious..

"Y/n, you shall follow and do as I say when it comes to your safety from now on, the decepticons have been bringing you danger too much, and I am afraid to this go far beyond to the result of megatron knowing you......., and so by that , I shall now know best to protect you, understood?"

"But Optimus- I can't just stay at base most of the time! I need to continue my lif-"

"NO YOU SHALL NOT!!!....

......,i-i'm so sorry, please y/n..,I am very worried, it is not only you that is in pure danger..,I do not trust anything that shall happen in the future nor either sadly you, please...follow my words"

Very cringe on adding a thing here but I just wanted to do it cuz I just like on knowing how characters would act

oh ya OP wouldn’t let you out of his sight. You’re going out for some fresh air? He’s trailing behind you. You brought something to eat while at the base? He needs to inspect it throughly first incase anyone decides to poison his love, he can’t trust anyone with your food. Showering? He’ll want to join you, ensuring that you smell nice and your skin is smooth/clean.

The other bots seem to notice his strange behaviour and are quick to pull him aside to ask “What the frag are you doing with Y/n?” Just don’t ask him later why his hands are dripping with energon not of his own :)

I also feel like OP would be the one to write poems for you and leave them on the seat of his alt mode as little gifts. They start of really sweet at first, but as time goes on his cute confessions of love devolve into the obsessive territory. Of course, you asked him to stop as it was getting overwhelming. But why would you want him to stop? Don’t you love me? Does the time I dedicate to my poems mean nothing to you?

[looks-golden]

another bunch of incorrect ducktales quotes

Gosalyn: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Dewey: This is a lie.

Dewey: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Dewey: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

=================================

Louie: Huey said its my turn with the brain cell.

Dewey: Square up.

=================================

Honkers: And what do I get out of this?

Gosalyn : I will give you a dollar.

Honkers: What do you think I am? A chump? I would never do it for a dollar!

Gosalyn : How bout two dollars?

Honkers: You got yourself a deal.

=================================

Gosalyn : I'm very scary.

Drake: You're about as scary as a wet kitten.

Gosalyn : Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me.

Drake: And small.

Gosalyn :

Gosalyn : ...Yeah, yeah. I guess.

=================================

Lena: I’m here for the cult stuff.

Honkers: How did you find us?

Lena: I saw your ad on craigslist.

=================================

May, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

June: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later*

June: Here you go.

May:

June:

Dewey: Why am I here?

=================================

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Boyd: Would never stab anyone.

May: Would stab someone in retaliation.

Dewey: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Webby: Would stab without warning.

Gosalyn : Would stab as a warning.

=================================

Gosalyn : There are three ways to handle a difficult situation. The right way, the wrong way, and the Dewey way.

Honkers: Isn't that the wrong way?

Gosalyn : Yes, but it's faster.

=================================

Dewey: Are you reading fan fiction?

Honkers, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No.

Dewey: Oh, is it on AO3?

Honkers: This is CNN.

=================================

Lena: What are you in the mood for?

Webby: World domination.

Lena: That's a bit ambitious.

Webby: You are my world.

Lena: Aww...

Webby:

Lena:

Webby:

Lena: OH.

=================================Violet: When you work at lush and a customer comes in and bites the soap because they think it’s cheese... this happens way more frequently than you think.

May: If you stopped literally presenting soap as deli food this wouldn't happen.

Violet: Who goes into a bath store and thinks something covered in glitter is cheese?

June: Who goes to the store and just takes a bite from the cheese?

=================================

Doofus: Count me in!

Violet: Who the hell are you?! Doofus: Oh, you know my sibling! They worked at Wendy's.

Violet: Oh yeah, Boyd! How are they doing?

Doofus: Oh yeah, not too good. They've been dead for the past month.

Dewey: What the hell, they didn't tell us!

=================================

Huey, rubbing their temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarrette.

June: But Huey, we don't smoke.

Huey: Cut the crap, June. I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke.

Huey: *points at Dewey* One! *points at Louie* Two! *points at Webby* Three! *points at Gosalyn * Four! *points at June* Five!

Huey: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarrette between these two fingers!

Gosalyn : *puts a cigarrette in Huey's hand*

Huey: Thank you. ...Light? The Squad: *all simultaneously pull out lighters*

=================================

Doofus: There are three chairs and five kids. What do you do?

Webby: Get two more chairs.

Dewey: Cut each chair in half to make six.

Violet: Make them FIGHT for their seats!

Gosalyn : I would never be near children.

Lena: Get rid of two kids.

=================================Webby: *yawns*

Lena: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Webby: Then you must be exhuasted.

May: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

=================================

Lena: You ever see something that changes your life and you're just like "huh.."

Webby: I saw you.

Lena: Honestly that's so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture of June in a turkey costume.

=================================

Lena: How is spring not everyone’s favorite season? The trees are PINK, guys!

Gosalyn : Allergies are also a problem, y'know.

Lena: But pink.

May: And it's hot.

Lena: PINK! =================================

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Lena: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad... =================================

[emmadoodle]

George’s Turn

Sequel to THIS FIC. Similar warnings apply!!! The lee is not in any distress, however this is an intense tickle fic and machine fic. Hope you guys enjoy it’s short and sweet ^_^

Words: 753

Originally for @mushiewrites birthday hahaha

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There was a chime, and George suddenly felt something wrap around both his wrists, trapping them against the arms of a chair he was trying out. Sam’s old abandoned warehouse was filled with crazy contraptions, but this specific chair seemed to call to him. A similar strap snaked around his waist. He was definitely completely trapped.

Before he was given a chance to even yell for help, the two dormant mechanical arms rose from their abandoned state and aimed themselves at his sides. An automated voice was heard from…somewhere. George couldn’t tell from where.

“Intruder detected. Main timer mode activated. Thirty Minutes.”

“Wha- whAHAHAHA!” In an instant the machine roared to life, and both of George’s sides felt the stimulation of tickling, almost as if two hands were vigorously pinching the sensitive skin, “Nohoho nohoho wahahahait” George pulled at his restraints. Really? A tickling machine? What was with his luck!

The arms started their movement up and down his sides, making him squirm every which way, but nothing worked in stopping the feeling. It felt like a constant vibration under his skin, and it was so bizarre he couldn’t help but focus even more on the feeling. The way it touched his nerves directly; his laughter almost felt as though it was being physically pulled out of him.

“Ihihi cahahahan’t I cahahahan’t” George began to whine as he remembered he’d be stuck like this for an entire thirty minutes. But he could do it, he was sure. It was only tickling. This thought didn’t help much though, when the machine finished it’s first cycle, now stopping it’s movement up and down.

“Plehehehease, juhuhust lehehehet thihihihs behe ohohohover!” The machine didn’t listen. Both arms moved again and made contact with his sides. The right arm buried itself into the bottom of his right side, the other one into his bottom rib on his left. George threw his head back in response to the feeling. It was a pure and raw explosion of stimulation that made him arch his back against his will.

“OHOHOHO MY GOHOHOHOD OHHOHOHO MYHY GAHAHAHAha-” There was no way anything could tickle this bad, seemingly wracking through his entire frame, making his nerves scream from the feeling. “FUHUCK FUHCK FUHUHUHUHUCK” He bucked his hips left and right, trying to twist himself in a way that would move them away from these two pinpointed areas.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP STOP WAHAHAHAHA-” Nothing was stopping it. A machine felt nothing. He was pleading to no one. His strength was leaving him fast, and the yanking he was doing against the straps turned to weak pulls.

By the time the first tears began to fall he had reached eight minutes. But to George it had felt like much longer by now. His body still twitched, and his head stayed thrown back against the back of the chair. Every once in a while he’d shake his head, almost as if he believed the extreme tickling that plagued all of his senses was all in his head. Maybe he could shake it away. Either way he could feel himself slipping farther and farther into a sense of nothing else but how much it tickled. It almost seemed as though everything was tickling, not even just the two sweet spots the arms had decided on.

Twenty minutes to go now. Not that he had any clue. Maybe someone would come find him. He had to be laughing pretty loudly, right? He couldn’t tell from the ringing in his ears. How could someone even perceive this much ticklishness? No time to focus on that now though.

Ten more minutes. He was sure maybe he was used to it now. It was nice. His brain felt like it was on a cloud. He knew of nothing else but what tickling feels like. And what it is like to laugh until your voice feels raw.

It stopped. The straps around his waist and wrists lifted and he melted off the chair and slumped to the ground, still laughing. He shook his head again, trying to snap himself out of his lightheadedness and messy thoughts. Where was he again, what was he doing? Sam’s warehouse. Yeah. His body feel so heavy though. Maybe he can just take a nap. The ground is surprisingly comfortable.

At the end of the day, Dream ended up finding him, fast asleep in a ball. He smirked, looking at the machine a bit behind him. He’d have to tell George a story about this chair when he awakes.

[witchofthesouls]

So, I’m not sure if you’re taking emergency requests or not but I could really use something. I’m not sure if you know but parts of northeast Florida are basically underwater.

I’m visiting from college and I’ve been trapped at the Fort Lauderdale airport for a day and a half, soon to be two. My parents are trapped in their home (they live in an apartment but their garage is completely flooded) and can’t get to me, so I have to hold until the water levels here and there go down enough for me to get home.

I’m tried, cold, haven’t showered in almost two days, sleeping in shifts between rock hard seats and the floor to charge my phone and avoiding downstairs like the plague because that’s also flooded, I’m stuck with other people, my period tracker says in due to start any day now, and I want my moms home cooked meal. I have the feeling I’m gonna bawl my eyes out the second I’m out of this god forsaken airport.

Could you do a headcanon on how TFP Optimus, Megatron, and Ratchet would react to their human daughter being trapped in an airport for two days due to horrible weather and finally seeing her when it’s clear?

(Oh wow, anon, I didn't know about the storms flooding Florida. I had to look up news for it. And yikes, it still isn't over yet. That's a severely rough time, especially at a stopping point. Here we go with a different style: )

Optimus would immediately be in the vicinity when the weather subsides enough for him to safely transport you. Nature on Earth, he finds, is beautiful, but also devastating, especially on small beings without innate protection. Before you see his alt-mode, it's worn-looking, yet relieved "Leo Cullen" that greets your eyes. He takes extra care with his holomatter, so when he hugs you for a long moment, it's warm and solid. You feel the leather and flannel, the scratch of his facial hair, and roughened fingers. There's the underlying smell of sun and storm, and it feels like home.

The sleeper cab would be ready because, between the size of his alt-mode and root-mode, it's easy to transport a mattress in his subspace. Freshly laundered with your favorite road-trip snacks. The road back is long with pit and truck stops to stretch your legs, eat meals, showers, and look at the scenery, but that's because these trips are the only time between you and him and no one else, barring an emergency.

There's nostalgia over the radio, cassettes, and CDs. Podcasts of shared interests and audial books he listens on his spare time. He sings a little off-key to get you to smile and "Leo" smiles right back. He names the constellations visible in the sky and talks about the ones back on Cybertron; his voice lulling you to sleep as he steps through the mythology of Thirteen and their legendary battle against Unicron in the sky.

The one that fusses the most is Ratchet. His time at the base is a mix of complaints on such a chaotic nightmare of a planet and hyperfocus on things that need his attention. Otherwise, he'll drive himself up the walls with the continuous onslaught of new reports and in-and-out communication from you. (He wonders if he can simply take over your post-secondary education. Ratchet has mentored factory fresh new-builds, and he can learn his lesson from the science projects to take account of the planet's educational framework.)

You're stressed, so it makes him stressed because all he wants to do is bundle you up, keep you tucked away on his shoulder, and yell at everything that got you to that point. He can't fight the weather, so your 'old man' of a father picks you up with faded red hair and a severe frown as he impatiently waits. "Haiden Ratcliffe" looks like he just got off a double shift in his scrubs, and it looks to you that he hasn't been sleeping well with the presence of bags under his eyes on his holomatter. But now you two are a father-daughter match in exhaustion.

Despite his appearance, he's powerful and the force of his hug takes your breath away and skews his glasses as he lifts you up. He's tutting and grumbling in his usual, grumpy way as he gets you inside his alt, so he can run passive scans and get you more comfortable because he has everything on hand. "Haiden" doesn't make frequent appearances, unless it's necessary (and the PTA and school board would like to keep it as minimum as possible), so it's a nice moment to rest on his shoulder and he runs warm as large hands run through your hair.

On the opposite spectrum, for a mech known for his eloquence, Megatron has the hardest time providing soft comfort. He intimately knows bitter ones, harsh ones, wrathful ones, and heavy-handed ones. Cordiality is one thing, but gentleness is a beast that's foreign to him. It's not even a luxury he reserves for himself.

He gnashed his denta, bleeding them, opening a few scars on his face, and his fists clenched until the muscle-cabling and joints strained as he monitored atmospheric reports and potential damage. It isn't an enemy he can turn his fists and fusion cannon on, his rage cannot cow a storm or defeat tornados. Strength is what he knows and what he has, and he loathes how it fails him in this instance, even as he demolishes the training forces and simulations.

Nor can he hide easily. Even if he takes on a more appropriate Earth alt-mode, there's no way he can simply fly his way through the airport, especially if he wants to keep your presence beneath everyone's sensors. (Even if he stares at the blueprints of the infrastructure to casually find spots that could reasonably cover a ground bridge to get you immediately back on the warship. It's child's play for Soundwave to down the security systems and continuous storms could mask the power output, right?) He sends Breakdown to get you for the mech's thick armature and his ease with softer manners.

Megatron's care is more subtle, in some ways distant, because he struggles on presenting a kinder face. Your alarms are shut off as you're excused from practices. The showers are well-stocked with quality spa accessories and treatments. He says nothing when your pet drone slinks its way into bed and curls around you.

Food is a language he can understand and compromise on. Fuel was important, something close to sacred, to those deep in the mines and shackled in the Pits. Compared to what he's used to, the cuisine on Earth is nauseatingly overwhelming: diets and lifestyles and so many little, yet important factors that contribute to your health and wellness. What is edible and non-edible is not a hard line; it's a shore where it depends on the preparation and methods and cultivation. It's nothing at all like harvesting Energon crystals. And he vaguely wonders how humanity hasn't killed itself in its infancy between intentional poisonings of rotted or fermented food and accidental death by a simple mistake when foraging.

You can't drink directly from his lines, so he takes it upon himself to provide in another way and he tackles the culinary arts as a challenge to overcome. And, to him, it's a satisfying one.

Megatron cooks meals and balances your nutrition. Styles of all kinds and the world in his grasp. When you return, he makes your favorites, the things that comfort you the most as you and he sit down to fuel together. Your expression is all he needs to be pleased as he savors the warm purr of satisfied sire-coding.

[mint-in-the-moonlight]

rituals in everyday life

so i was reading New Moon Magic: 13 Anti-Capitalist Tools for Resistance and Re-Enchantment by Risa Dickens and Amy Torok for some inspiration on the Virgo new moon and that chapter of the book contained something that got me thinking.

the authors discuss how a ritual is a repetitive action that accumulates results over time, not only in a magical practice. so for example, a skincare routine is a ritual with the accumulating goal of improving the condition of your skin as well as maintaining its health.

so i wanted to shortly reflect of some aspects of my daily life that could be seen as rituals and this may inspire you to look at the mundane a bit more magically too! if you're pagan like me, you could also see these rituals as actions you do for the gods, as offerings or devotional activities.

showering

this one is the obvious one. showering is the ritual to keep yourself generally clean. i never really thought of it as a ritual because i don't enjoy showering too much but i always feel clean and rejuvenated afterwards. having a shower or a bath could then be seen as a small cleansing ritual, getting you ready for the day ahead or purifying you from the day's troubles.

similar to this could be routines such as skincare, brushing your teeth, cutting your nails and other body cleanliness or maintenance tasks.

taking meds

for me this is specifically taking my testosterone which i do every day. it has become a routine so i don't really think about it much anymore but i should! it is a commitment i am making to my body and my happiness and similarly to the shower one, it is something that makes me feel happier and more in touch with myself.

if you also take meds, you can also think about the action as a ritual that prepares you for the day ahead (if you take them in the morning) or as the maintenance of your body and/or mind. if you don't take meds you could instead apply this to other morning routines such as eating breakfast, cooking food, taking vitamins or having a cup of coffee.

evening routine/ritual

in the evening i do multiple things that calm me down and set my mind into "getting ready for sleep" mode. i used to struggle with sleep a lot due to my adhd but i have since incorporated things that help me fall asleep more easily. now that i'm assessing this routine through a different lens, it seems more like a ritual, a series of motions that help me set my mind onto something and achieve my goal.

during my evening routine/ritual, i first take my melatonin which helps me to fall asleep in a timely manner. then i go floss and brush my teeth. after this i usually turn my laptop off, directing myself away from my desk and towards the bed. finally, i do my evening skincare routine and go lay in bed and while i sometimes still go on my phone or read, i am usually able to fall asleep soon enough. in a sense, this is a ritual that helps me fall asleep and have a good rest.

studying/going to school

while i have recently finished my degree, now in retrospect i see studying and going to school as a ritual which helps me build my future. thanks to education i have been able to not only learn many important and interesting things, i have also learned about myself and figured out what I want in life. while school and studying isn't always fun (let's be real, it's mostly not fun) it can be really beneficial to you, your sense of self and your future. so, you can think about it as a long-term ritual.

if you don't study (anymore) you can still apply this to other aspects of your life. for example, if you're looking for work like me, you can think of applying for jobs as a prosperity ritual, same thing with going to work. you could also see reading a book or doing research the same way.

other things that you could see as rituals

hanging out with friends - a ritual that maintains friendship, brings happiness and support etc.

cleaning your room/house, doing laundry, taking out the trash etc. - a ritual to keep your life and home organised and clan

charging and cleaning your electronic devices - a ritual to keep them working and in good shape

doing groceries - a ritual to keep you going and/or help you stay healthy

binding - a ritual to make you feel more comfortable in your body and/or to help you pass

+ add your own!

[gumy-shark]

occasionally ill just decide to not correct my typoes and live lif e insane mode. bc i think its funniet. u guy shave no idea how bas of a typist i am bc i correct my typos all the time but i acn be so incomprehensible

[moe-broey]

THE PROTOTYPE MOE............... 👁️👁️

[blailver]

Four Lifs' Tap Battle: Illusory Dungeon Floors 96-100 Hard mode Perfect Run

Enemy Lif（appears at 1:50）:Driven to Madness...!! Four Lifs:Defeat the Madness Jello!(and enjoy the hot spring!)

[orgu-evi-blog]

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[elytrafemme]

Bro write this shit down

Like full story mode

I CAN AND WILL MAKE ITBINTO A MOVIE

WHAT HOLLYWOOD TEENAGE LIF U LIVING HUH

my love life is seriously fucking insane like i'm tired of not talking about it people need to understand this shit it's like. it's CRAZY.

also if it's anything to you, i used to code name this girl Saturn cos i code named my ex Jupiter but after doing that i decided to add the name Saturn for myself, so now I actually go by Saturn. also the nicknames that both her and my ex have in my phone are both from Shakespeare, but one of them is a compliment and one of them is an insult. which isn't to say i love one of them and hate the other, but just that this is kind of how the respective relationships role.

when I say that i have bitches in theory I mean that I am currently single but also absolutely am not fucking single whatsoever

[dugun-rehberim]

Yeni Yapraklı Lif Modeli Yapımı

[liteband]

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[youweitrade]

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