#Task Group 56

[moluvies]

in your orbit ꔛ armin arlert x reader

a/n: made the banner in 2 seconds on picsart myb 🫡👍 i usually dont fw the modern/college au for aot but nerdmin has so much potential :3 read part two here !!

words: 5.9k

cw: nerd!armin, college au, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, somewhat inexperienced armin #idk, armin is actually a nice person in this au, frat boy eren makes an appearance (obvi), armin gets drunk, reader gets drunk, SMUT!!, so drunk sex, mutual attraction, blowjobs, p in v sex, doggystyle, dirty talk, he whines and whimpers 😦‼️, MDNI !!

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The rec center was lively, as it usually was this time of day. You checked your phone to look at the time—3:56 P.M. Would it be weird to go in 4 minutes early? You wondered to yourself, anxiety getting the best of you. Especially when you couldn't hear even the smallest sound come from the small study room, though you told yourself maybe it was a soundproof design.

Armin Arlert, one of your classmates and now a member of the group project you had been assigned, was the one to set this meeting up. The group project from your astronomy class was a semester-long task, given to you during syllabus week and not to be turned in until finals. Half of the semester had passed and you hadn't even really met the rest of your group members—aside from Armin.

The two of you hadn't really talked, though. You followed each other on Instagram now and you sat at the same table as him in class (along with a few other people you didn't really know). Aside from that, the guy was practically a stranger to you. But you couldn't deny how you admired him. He always raised his hand in class, never sounding too full of himself or annoying like other people typically sounded to you in lecture. He was also helpful if you ever had a question, especially because you hated going to office hours with professors you hardly knew.

Armin had texted the group chat he made with all the group members a week ago asking if everyone had availability that Friday. A couple people said yes while others just put a thumbs up emoji to react to his message. He didn't mind if they didn't show to the first meeting, really. It was individually graded and if they didn't have availability to meet Friday they could have said so.

You took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you knocked once and then entered the tiny study room. It contained one table with 6 chairs around it, a TV you could connect your laptop to, and a trash can off in the corner.

And it also contained only one person—Armin.

"Hey," you greeted with a smile, shutting the door behind you and seating yourself down in a chair across from him.

"Hi, you made it," Armin smiled, looking up from his laptop as you entered. "I was just setting things up so we all have access to the slides, just in case anyone wants to make changes."

You nodded, putting your bag on the chair next to you and taking out your notebook and your own laptop. Armin turned his screen slightly so you could see the Google Slides presentation he'd already started.

“So,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “the project is basically split into three parts. We each pick a topic from the syllabus—we're focusing on one planetary system or celestial phenomenon—and then tie it back to a central question or theme. I thought we could go with, like… how different environments in space might support life? It leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

“That actually sounds really cool,” you said, surprised by how easily the conversation was flowing. Armin was easy to talk to—calm, thoughtful, never pushing too hard. “I was kind of thinking about Europa. Like, that moon of Jupiter? There’s been speculation that it could have an ocean under the ice.”

Armin’s eyes lit up. “That would be perfect for your section. I was thinking of doing something about Titan, Saturn’s moon. We could compare how the chemical compositions of each moon might influence the potential for life—or even just how scientists are studying them.”

The hour passed quicker than you expected. Armin’s presence, though quiet, was reassuring. The two of you bounced ideas back and forth, shared articles, and even got a little distracted googling strange facts about different moons. At one point, Armin laughed quietly at a meme someone had edited into one of Titan's photos, and you felt your shoulders finally relax.

“No one else showing up kinda worked out,” you said as you started packing up your things.

“Yeah,” Armin replied, unplugging his laptop from the monitor. “Honestly, I don’t mind. We got a lot done. I’ll just post our outline in the chat and if they don’t contribute by the next meeting, I’ll talk to the professor. He said we could document that stuff.”

You both walked out into the early evening sunlight, your backpacks slung over your shoulders as the automatic doors of the rec center whooshed open.

As you and Armin stepped outside, the soft warmth of the sun casting long shadows on the pavement, he glanced over at you with a relaxed expression.

“Got any plans this weekend?” he asked, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

You sighed, a little amused. “My friend’s been begging me to go to this frat party Saturday night. I haven't been to one since my first week of freshman year."

Armin raised an eyebrow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “At Delta Sig?”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Are you in that frat?”

He laughed—soft, a little disbelieving. “God, no. Not even close. But my friend Eren is. Our friend Mikasa and I usually end up at those parties to keep him from doing something insane.”

You tilted your head curiously. “So… you do go sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Armin admitted, his tone casual. “Delta Sig almost got shut down, actually. They had, like, a ton of hazing violations documented over the past decade. I tried convincing Eren not to rush, but he did anyway. Even after I showed him an article about it online.”

You laughed. “Wow. That makes me feel so great about possibly going.”

He smiled, nudging your arm lightly with his elbow. “If you do end up there, try to find me, alright?”

“Yeah?” you asked, a little surprised by the offer.

“I’m not a big drinker or anything,” Armin said with a small shrug, “but I’ll probably be hanging around Eren and Mikasa, keeping them out of trouble. If you go, say hi.”

You nodded, a little smile growing on your face and a flutter in your heart at the idea. “Okay. I will.”

ꔛ

"I look like an idiot," you whined, eyeing yourself in the mirror as you looked over your outfit. As a freshman, you might've worn something like this to these types of parties, but now you weren't sure anyone should wear this kind of outfit. The top was so low cut and the jeans were just simply not it, you weren't sure if you were going for slutty or casual.

"Come on, you look great," your friend, Hitch, said. Her dirty blonde hair was neatly styled and she wore an outfit combination similar to yours—tiny top with jeans.

"We look like we're matching," you replied, but with no malice. That could be cute, you thought.

"Ugh, you're right. Be right back."

You glared at the back of her head as she turned to presumably go get changed. Your hair looked nice, and so did your makeup. The outfit felt dumb but it wasn't terrible. So why did you feel like throwing up?

"Armin really said to come find you?" Hitch asked when she returned with a grin and different outfit, bringing up the conversation you had in her car when she picked you up. Hitch seemed to be a frequent partygoer to this specific frat, and had met Armin a few times at these functions. When you brought it up in the car, she confirmed that Armin hardly ever drank and mostly stayed near Eren and Mikasa.

"Yeah. He's really sweet, so I didn't expect him to even go to these," you replied honestly, applying more lip gloss. "It wasn't a surprise when he said he doesn't drink, though."

"I'm sure you guys will really hit it off then. You even turned down my 'getting ready shots'."

You rolled your eyes, and soon you were on your way, taking the short walk towards Greek row where the party was presumably already in full swing—Hitch insisting on being late so you two didn't look lame waiting for people to show up.

ꔛ

Armin was a mess.

He didn't know why, or how, but in the hours leading up to the party he convinced himself he was awkward and weird for telling you to come see him. He even went to Jean and Eren and begged for advice.

He had so much trouble reading you, but he knew you were kind. And pretty. What he didn't really know was—well, everything else. Did you drink? What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you care that he didn't like dancing?

None of the questions made sense, but neithed did anything in his mind. Why was he this stressed over a party? He was practically the babysitter when attending, and it's not like he personally invited you. He just said you should come see him. God, was that even more weird?

Somehow, some way, Jean and Eren convinced Armin to take some shots. Three shots, actually. To "ease his mind" and to "calm his nerves" apparently.

Now, there Armin was in the back of Eren's car, finding the way the streetlights passed the window and the bass of the music electrifying. Everything was warm and fuzzy, and he felt his head spin the entire drive.

ꔛ

The music hit you before anything else—thick, throbbing bass that vibrated through the concrete steps leading up to the frat house. Red cups were already scattered across the yard, and the dim porch light revealed clusters of people smoking and laughing.

"This is going to be fun," Hitch said, linking her arm through yours. "Come on, let's find your astronomy boy."

You felt heat rise to your face at the nickname. "He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah," Hitch interrupted with a knowing smile.

As you squeezed your way through the packed living room, the scent of cheap beer and cologne made your nose scrunch. Bodies were pressed together everywhere, dancing and swaying to music that was way too loud for any actual conversation. You were starting to regret coming when Hitch suddenly squealed and pointed toward the kitchen.

"There he is! Armin's over there with Eren and Jean."

You followed her gaze, and sure enough, there was Armin—but not the Armin you expected. His normally neat blond hair was slightly mussed, cheeks flushed pink, and he was... laughing? Not the reserved, thoughtful chuckle you'd heard in the study room, but a full, uninhibited laugh that made his whole face light up.

"Is he..." you trailed off, not quite believing what you were seeing.

Hitch's eyes widened with delight. "Oh my god, I think he's drunk! This is amazing. I've literally never seen Armin anything but sober."

You made your way over to the kitchen, Hitch practically dragging you. Armin was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly with two guys you assumed were Eren and Jean. He was gesturing with his hands, something about... constellations? It was hard to hear over the music.

When he spotted you, his eyes widened almost comically.

"You came!" Armin said with such genuine excitement that it made your heart do a strange flip. He pushed himself off the counter—a bit unsteadily—and made his way over. "I wasn't sure if you would. But you did!"

"I said I would," you replied with a smile, surprised by how endearing his enthusiasm was.

"Hey, Armin," Hitch said, giving him a little wave. "Looking good tonight! Where's Marlowe at?"

"Marlowe? Oh! He's out back, I think. By the beer pong tables." Armin seemed to remember his friends then, turning back to the two guys watching with amused expressions. "Oh! This is (Y/N)," he said your name with such care it made your cheeks warm again. "She's in my astronomy group. We're doing Europa and Titan and life possibilities and it's really cool. And she's friends with Hitch."

The shorter of the two guys—brown hair, intense eyes—reached out a hand. "I'm Eren. This is Jean." He nodded toward a guy with an undercut and a smirk.

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking hands with both of them.

"You're in Armin's class? Good luck with that. He's been talking about space for the past hour," Jean said, but there was affection in his voice.

Hitch was already scanning the room. "I'm going to find Marlowe. You good here?" she asked you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured her, secretly relieved to have an out from being around her boyfriend. Marlowe was nice enough, but he was so serious it made conversations feel like job interviews.

"Don't wait up," she winked, then disappeared into the crowd.

Armin was staring at you with an expression of pure fascination. "Your hair looks really nice," he said, the filter between his thoughts and words clearly compromised. "Like—like starlight. Did you know some stars have different colors? Red giants, blue dwarfs—"

"You're such a nerd," Eren cut him off, but ruffled Armin's hair affectionately. "Even drunk you're giving astronomy lectures."

"How much did you drink?" you asked Armin, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

"Three shots!" Armin held up only two fingers, then frowned and corrected himself. "Only three. They said it would help with nerves. I don't usually drink." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice but still speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I feel weird. Like my brain is swimming."

Jean snorted. "Lightweight."

Eren reached into a nearby cooler and pulled out a beer, offering it to you. "Want one? Fair warning, I think we've corrupted your study buddy."

You hesitated. You weren't planning on drinking much tonight, but Armin was looking at you with such hopeful eyes.

"Please?" Armin said, swaying slightly. "I feel like an alien right now. Everyone's having fun and I'm just... vibrating on a different frequency."

The way he said it made you laugh. "Okay, fine. One beer. Maybe three, eventually."

Armin's face lit up again as you accepted the beer from Eren. You popped the tab and took a small sip, grimacing at the taste. Cheap beer was still cheap beer.

"Well, now that Armin's in good hands," Eren said with an exaggerated stretch, "Jean and I are gonna go find Mikasa. She texted that she just got here."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Armin asked, a flash of panic crossing his face.

"Relax, we'll be back," Jean said, already backing away. "Besides, you've got your project partner now."

Before Armin could protest further, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with a slightly swaying Armin Arlert.

"They always do that," Armin said, leaning back against the counter for stability. "Leave me places."

"Looks like I'm on babysitting duty," you teased, taking another small sip of your beer.

"No, no," Armin protested, reaching out and nearly missing as he tried to touch your arm. "You should have fun too. Not just—just watch me being weird."

"Who says watching you being weird isn't fun?" you replied, finding yourself genuinely enjoying this uninhibited version of him.

Armin stared at you for a moment, then broke into a wide smile. "You're really nice, you know that? And smart. Your Europa idea was so good. I went home and read, like, three papers about it."

"After our meeting? I thought you said you were going to meet Eren and Mikasa."

"I did! But after. I couldn't stop thinking about the project. And..." he trailed off, that flush on his cheeks deepening.

"And what?" you prompted, suddenly curious.

Armin took a sip from his cup—soda, you noticed—and looked around at the party as if gathering courage. "And I was kind of hoping you'd come tonight. I don't know why. I just... wanted to see you outside of class."

Your heart did that strange flip again. "Well, here I am," you said softly, not sure what else to say.

"Here you are," Armin echoed, his eyes meeting yours with surprising clarity despite his intoxication. "Want to go somewhere quieter? I can't hear myself think in here, and I have so many thoughts right now."

You laughed, finding his honesty refreshing. "Lead the way."

Armin grinned and pushed himself off the counter, taking your hand with a boldness you suspected was alcohol-induced, pulling you through the crowded living room toward the staircase.

As you followed him, fingers intertwined with his, you found yourself thinking that this was definitely not how you expected your Friday night to go—but somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

Armin led you up the stairs, his hand still holding yours as you weaved through small clusters of people gathered on the steps. You were glad for his guidance—the house was a maze of narrow hallways, dimly lit and pulsing with the bass from downstairs. Finally, he stopped in front of a door and turned the handle, peeking in before ushering you inside.

"Jean's room," he explained, closing the door behind you both. The music instantly became muffled, a distant thumping rather than the overwhelming roar from downstairs.

The room was surprisingly clean for a frat house bedroom—minimal clutter, a neatly made bed, and even a small bookshelf in the corner. You glanced around, suddenly feeling like you were intruding.

"Should we be in here? I feel bad taking his room," you said, hovering awkwardly near the door.

Armin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "He won't even need it until like 4 AM. Trust me. He's either going to be downstairs until everyone leaves or..." He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Got it," you laughed, understanding the implication. You took another sip of your beer, feeling the pleasant warmth spreading through your limbs as you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed.

Armin joined you, leaving a respectful few inches between you. "Better, right? I can actually hear you now."

"Much better," you agreed, finding it easier to relax now that you weren't surrounded by sweaty strangers. "So... you really went home and read scientific papers after our meeting?"

His face lit up immediately. "Yeah! There was this one about the chemical composition of Europa's ocean and how it might compare to Earth's deep-sea hydrothermal vents. Did you know there are organisms on Earth that don't need sunlight at all? They just use chemical energy from the vents."

You watched him as he spoke, his hands gesturing enthusiastically, eyes bright with genuine passion. The alcohol had lowered his usual reserve, but it was still Armin—brilliant, thoughtful Armin—just with his thoughts flowing more freely. You found yourself drawn to this version of him, the slight flush on his cheeks and the way his hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward.

"That's actually fascinating," you said, taking another long sip of your beer. You were starting to feel it now, that pleasant buzz that made everything seem warmer, more immediate. "So you think there could be something like that on Europa?"

"It's possible! That's what makes it so exciting," he said, shifting to face you more directly. "We're just beginning to understand how diverse life can be. The universe is so much stranger than we imagine."

You nodded, feeling a pleasant heaviness in your limbs as you leaned back on your elbows. "I need to catch up to your level of intoxication if we're going to have deep space conversations all night."

Armin laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Trust me, you don't. I feel like my brain is both racing and moving through molasses at the same time."

"That actually sounds kind of nice right now," you admitted, finishing the last of your beer. The room had taken on a gentle, swaying quality, and you found yourself increasingly aware of how close Armin was sitting.

"Here," he said, reaching over to take your empty can and placing it on Jean's desk. As he moved, his shoulder brushed against yours, and you felt a small jolt at the contact.

When he settled back beside you, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You joined him, both of you lying side by side, shoulders almost touching.

"There are glow-in-the-dark stars up there," Armin pointed out quietly. Sure enough, faint green stars were stuck to the ceiling in no particular pattern. "Jean would die if he knew I told anyone. He says they were there when he moved in."

You laughed softly, still tipsy but feeling more sober now.

The dim glow from the ceiling stars cast a soft, ethereal light over Armin’s face as you lay beside him. The alcohol had settled warmly in your veins, making every sensation just a little more intense—the softness of the bed beneath you, the muffled bass of the music downstairs, the way Armin’s breathing had slowed into something deep and steady beside you.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, studying the delicate slope of his button nose, the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked behind his glasses. His cheeks were still flushed pink from the drinks, and his lips—soft, slightly parted—were just inches from yours. His hair, usually so neat, was tousled from the night’s chaos, falling in golden strands across his forehead. You had the sudden, overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it, to see if it was as silky as it looked.

Armin must have noticed you staring, because his eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, the air between you stilled. His gaze was warm, hazy with alcohol but still so Armin, so full of quiet intensity.

Then, without a word, he shifted onto his elbow, leaning over you. His free hand came up, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a tenderness that made your pulse jump.

You barely had time to process it before he was kissing you.

His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and tasted faintly of cheap beer and something sweet—maybe the soda he’d been drinking earlier. The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was still unsure if this was okay. But when you sighed against his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, he deepened it with a quiet urgency that sent heat spiraling through your stomach.

His hand slid from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing into yours, the way his breath hitched when you nipped lightly at his lower lip.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough.

You answered by tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down to you. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and suddenly his weight was pressing you into the mattress, his hips slotting between your thighs in a way that made your breath catch.

The kiss turned hotter, messier—his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your hips. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the way his fingers flexed against you like he was holding back from touching you everywhere.

Armin’s breath was hot against your lips as he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, filthy drag that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair, skimming down your sides, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. You could feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way his body trembled slightly with restraint, like he was holding himself back from just taking what he wanted.

You arched up into him, grinding your hips against his, and he let out a broken groan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he panted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with want. His lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his voice was rough when he spoke again. “I—I wanna fuck you. So bad.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight between your legs. You could feel how hard he was already, the thick line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh through his jeans.

“Yeah?” you breathed, your own voice shaky.

Armin nodded, biting his lower lip as his hands slid under the hem of your top, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. “Yeah. God, you feel—you feel so good. Can I—?”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you unzipped your jeans and grabbed his wrist to guide his hand lower, past the waistband of your jeans, letting him feel the damp heat of your panties. His breath hitched, fingers twitching against you.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, voice wrecked. “You’re—you’re already—”

You cut him off with another kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own hands wandered lower, palming the hard bulge in his jeans. He jerked against your touch, hips bucking forward with a desperate little noise.

“You too,” you murmured against his lips, squeezing him through the fabric.

Armin shuddered, his forehead dropping against yours as he let out a shaky exhale. “Shit—shit—keep doing that—”

You did, rubbing him slowly, feeling him throb under your fingers. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hips rocking into your hand, chasing the friction.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered, biting at his jaw.

Armin whined, his fingers digging into your hips. “Because of you—fuck, I—I wanna fuck you—”

His hand slid back down, slipping beneath your panties this time, fingers brushing through your slick folds. You gasped, arching into his touch, and he groaned against your neck.

Armin’s breath hitched when you suddenly switched positions and pushed him back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you straddled his thighs. His cock strained against his jeans, the fabric damp with pre-cum, and his fingers twitched at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“You—you don’t have to—” he started, voice already wrecked.

You silenced him with a smirk, taking his glasses off which were slightly fogged up and folding them to put on the nearby nightstand, then popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down agonizingly slow. His hips jerked up, chasing your touch, and you could see the way his cock twitched under his boxers, desperate for relief.

“I want to,” you murmured, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down just enough to free him.

Armin gasped as the cool air hit his flushed skin, his cock springing free—hard, leaking, and so fucking pretty. You licked your lips, watching the way his stomach clenched as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke.

“Fuck,” he whined, his head falling back against the pillow.

You didn’t tease him any longer. Leaning down, you dragged your tongue over the head of his cock, tasting the salty-sweet pre-cum beading at the tip. Armin’s hips jerked, a broken noise tearing from his throat as you took him into your mouth.

It was messy—you were both still a little drunk, your movements sloppy and uncoordinated—but that just made it hotter. You sucked him deep, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head, spit dripping down your chin.

Armin was losing it. His fingers tangled in your hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life as he whimpered above you. “Oh—oh God—your mouth—fuck—”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and his thighs trembled under you. His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you could tell he was already close—his breath was coming in ragged gasps, his hips twitching like he was trying not to thrust up into your throat.

“I—I’m gonna—” he choked out, his voice high and desperate.

You didn’t let up. Instead, you took him deeper, your nose brushing the coarse blond curls at the base of his cock, and that was all it took.

Armin came with a broken cry, his back arching off the bed as he spilled hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed around him, milking him through it until he was squirming from oversensitivity, his hands weakly tugging at your hair.

“Too much—too much—” he whined, his whole body trembling.

You pulled off with a wet pop, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his lips parted as he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Armin’s chest heaved as he blinked up at you, dazed and wrecked, his cock still twitching against his stomach. His cheeks burned even redder as he stammered,

“S-Sorry—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I just—”

You cut him off with a kiss, licking into his mouth so he could taste himself on your tongue. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d pull away.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmured against his lips, grinding down against his thigh, letting him feel how soaked you still were. “Just fuck me.”

Armin’s breath hitched, his cock already stiffening again at the words. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing greedily as he nodded, his voice rough.

“Yeah—yeah, okay—turn around—”

Armin's hands trembled as he helped you turn around, his breath coming in ragged gasps against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he knelt behind you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging the denim down your thighs inch by inch, his voice thick with want. "Look at you—fuck—your ass is so perfect—"

The cool air hit your bare skin as he peeled your jeans off completely, leaving you in just your soaked panties. His fingers traced the curve of your ass, squeezing lightly before sliding between your thighs, rubbing over the damp fabric.

"So wet," he murmured, his voice wrecked. He hooked his fingers into your panties next, pulling them down slowly, his breath hitching as your pussy was finally exposed to him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

His thumbs spread you open, and you could feel his hot gaze raking over every inch of you—your swollen lips, the way you dripped for him, the way your ass arched back, begging for him.

"Hang on, okay?" He said quietly, and you felt the bed shift with his weight. Then you heard the unmistakeable sound of a wrapper being opened. "Don't ask why I know where Jean keeps his condoms. He... likes to brag," Armin said sheepishly, making you giggle as you heard him whimper slightly as he presumably rolled the condom on.

Armin’s fingers dug into your hips as he lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance. He hesitated just for a second, his voice shaky with drunken lust and nerves.

“Fuck—I—I might not last, I’m sorry—”

But you barely heard him, because then he was pushing in, slow, that perfect curve of his cock hitting every sweet spot on the way. Your breath stuttered as he filled you, thick and throbbing, and a greedy moan tore from your throat before you could stop it.

“Oh fuck—” Your hands fisted the sheets, your back arching deeper, chest pressing into the mattress. “Yes—just like that, Armin.”

Armin groaned behind you, his hips stuttering as he bottomed out, his grip on you tightening like he was afraid you’d disappear. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good."

You clenched around him, and he whimpered, his cock twitching inside you like he was already fighting not to spill. But you didn’t care—not when he fit this perfectly, not when every ragged breath he took sent sparks through your veins.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, as you rolled your hips back to meet his shallow thrusts. The new angle let you feel him even deeper, and you gasped, your back bowing as a shiver ran down your spine.

Armin choked out a whimper, his hands scrambling for purchase on your hips as he bottomed out, his thighs trembling against yours. “Y-You feel—fuck—so tight—”

You grinned into the mattress, rolling your hips to take him deeper, and he let out a broken noise, his nails biting into your skin. He was already unraveling, his cock pulsing inside you, and you loved it—the way he couldn’t hold back, the way he was falling apart just for you.

Armin’s hips snapped forward with a desperate, sloppy thrust, his cock sinking deep into your dripping cunt as a broken moan tore from his throat. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider as he watched, his dick glistening with your slick as it disappeared inside you again and again.

“Fuck—look at you—” he panted, his voice wrecked, pupils blown black with lust. “Taking me so good—your pussy’s sucking me in.”

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the sheets as his cock dragged against your walls, the curve of him hitting that sweet spot with every rough snap of his hips. Your vision blurred, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach as he fucked into you with unsteady, frantic strokes—like he was already on the edge, but needed to make you feel it too.

“You’re—ngh—you’re so tight—” Armin groaned, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold back. His cock twitched inside you, swollen and throbbing, his balls drawing up tight. “Gonna—gonna cum—shit—but I wanna make you feel it first—”

His hand slid around your hip, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, frantic circles as he fucked you harder. You gasped, your back arching, your cunt clenching around him as pleasure sparked white-hot under your skin.

“There—right there—” you babbled, your voice shaking. “Armin—fuck—don’t stop—”

He whined, his thrusts turning erratic, his cock pulsing inside you as he teetered on the edge. “You—you like that? Like how I fuck you?” he slurred, his words dripping with filthy praise. “God, your pussy’s gripping me—squeezing my cock—fuck, I can’t—can’t—”

His hips jerked, his rhythm faltering as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself to the hilt with a choked-off moan, his cum flooding the inside of the condom.

You felt it—every twitch, every throb of his cock as he emptied himself inside you, his fingers still working your clit desperately, like he couldn’t stop even as he came.

“Fuck—fuck—” he gasped, his voice wrecked, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades as he shuddered through the aftershocks.

You weren’t far behind. The filthy sound of him filling you, the way his cock kept twitching inside you as he panted against your back—it pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your cunt clenching around him as you cried out, your thighs shaking, your nails digging into the mattress.

Armin groaned, his hips grinding weakly against your ass as he milked his own pleasure.

“Shit—” he mumbled, dazed, his voice slurred with booze and bliss. “You—you just came on my dick..." He pulled out, discarding the condom into a nearby trashcan.

You laughed breathlessly, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you collapsed onto the mattress beneath you. Armin followed, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled into your neck.

“You’re… really good at that,” you murmured, your voice hazy.

Armin huffed a drunken laugh against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah," you sighed, grinning as you felt his dick twitch against the skin of your ass.

He kissed your shoulder, his lips soft and sweet despite the filth that had just spilled from them. “...Wanna go again?”

You turned your head just enough to catch his gaze—his flushed cheeks, his messy hair, his stupidly pretty eyes—and grinned.

“Obviously.”

[yuurei20]

Would you mind giving short summaries of everyone's book 7 dreams? I haven't seen anyone compile them all yet. If this is too much, kindly ignore!

( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 💕

Dream summaries are complete! Thank you for this new series idea ^^

Starting with Lilia, which was difficult to put into a "short" summary 💦 If you prefer a more concise summarization there is an ongoing "book 7 synopsis" series on twstnote! Here are chapters 56 to 100, covering Lilia's dream:

For a closer focus on just Lilia's dream itself (without Silver and Sebek's side adventures), here we are!

--

Malleus sends all of Sage’s Island to sleep in Book 7 so that they might enjoy “unending happiness,” “without sorrow, where you will never lose a single person—not friends, not family.”

Despite how Lila was the person whom Malleus was attempting to save, for Lilia alone this turns into a dream world where Malleus is unable to enforce his own rule of “without sorrow,” resulting in a recreation of the Human/Fae war of 400 years ago where he served as General of the Right of Brarland’s royal guard (more: the rules of the dreams / why Lilia’s dream was sad).

In the dream Briarland—as it was known before it was reduced to Briar Valley—has been invaded by humans who are cutting down the forests, laying waste to the mountains and plundering the resources through illegal mining, driving direbeasts into fae villages.

Lilia’s task in his dream is possibly a role that he filled in the real world: to deliver a letter from Princess Maleanor warning the humans to cease their ill-mannered conduct, search for delegates that have gone missing, and expel the human soldiers who are mining fae lands without having received permission to do so.

Lilia initially refuses to allow the group of Silver, Sebek, Grim and the prefect to join his troops, only acquiescing once Silver and Sebek manage to knock of his mask in a fight.

During their journey they come across personal belongings of missing Briarland envoys and do battle with human soldiers. While they do reach the citadel where they are to deliver their letter it is revealed to have been rigged with a trap that gives Lilia what is possibly a near-fatal wound when he rescues Silver, the human troops gone to besiege the castle of the fae princess, Maleanor, while Lilia was away.

Lilia’s remaining troops return to Maleanor where she greets Lilia by striking him repeatedly with lightning and refuses to heed his advice and retreat, commanding him to escape with her unborn child while she distracts the human troops.

Lilia refuses her heed her orders despite how she strikes both him and her egg with lightning to force his obedience, begging her to flee with him: “What am I to do if I lose both Raverne and you?”

Maleanor says that Lilia is to hatch her egg in her stead if she does not return despite how dragon eggs can only be hatched by their parents’ magic and affection. Lilia claims that he knows nothing of parental affection and has never loved anyone and Maleanor reveals that this is untrue: he loved both her and Raverne, her husband, making it impossible for him to not love their child.

Maleanor has Lilia dragged forcibly from the castle, and when he insists on going back to her Baul (Sebek’s grandfather) convinces him to press on for the sake of saving the heir.

Their evacuation is interrupted by the Dawn Knight, who recognizes both Lilia and the egg he carries and still saves him from collapsing rubble, telling him to flee before he is spotted.

Lilia and Baul are pursued by human troops, with Baul volunteering to hold back a group of at least 15 soldiers on his own, despite Lilia’s protests: “It’s your head and the egg they want--neither of which we can let these wretched creatures have.”

Lilia is still captured by human soldiers, saved from imminent execution by Silver. Lilia attempts to sacrifice himself for Silver to take the egg on alone but Silver refuses, carrying Lilia on his back to the capital.

They are joined again by Baul and Sebek, and upon reaching the castle Lilia declares his intent to return to Maleanor, but then it is revealed that the princess has died, presumably slain by the Dawn Knight.

Briarland’s senate blames Lilia for her death, shaming him for failing to protect her and insulting him for being a useless “dirty bat” and banishing him from the capital despite Baul’s attempts to defend him. Lilia resigns from his post and Malleus is taken away from him. 

Lilia says, “There’s no place for me here anymore…no one left to protect,” his despair drawing darkness that swallows him. 

In a continuation of the dream and/or flashback we see Lilia called to the castle by Queen Maleficia 10 years later, in secret, as Malleus is refusing her magic infusions and is in danger of dying if a solution cannot be found. Lilia travels the world at Maleficia’s behest (communicated through Baul) to search for a way to hatch Malleus, despite how fae seem to be violently unwelcome in human cities, as “foul monsters.”

Lilia periodically visits the egg, which periodically accepts magic.

After finding an unspecified location that took him years to reach Lilia’s unique magic manifests: the ability to see the memories of objects.

While the place where Lilia is at this point in the dream is not named, it is an identical background that appeared during Spectral Soiree: a location in the spectral realm called “Sleepless Castle.”

According to Silver, Lilia traveled to the spectral realm because “his work once led him to the border between life and death,” but it is not specified if Lilia’s visit to the spectral realm and the place where he discovered his unique magic in his efforts to hatch Malleus are connected.

Over time Lilia comes across humans who do not react with violence or anger upon realizing he is fae, telling Malleus that there are fewer people who throw stones at him, and there is a lot he wants to show Malleus when he is born.

Lilia receives a sudden communication from Baul saying that Malleus may not survive until the next full moon, as he has stopped accepting the queen’s magic for three months, his heartbeat has weakened and anyone who approaches him gets repelled by intense lightning strikes.

Lilia alone is capable of hearing Malleus crying inside of his egg and goes to him despite the lightning strikes, realizing that Malleus is lonely. Lilia offers up his magic and his life and Malleus finally hatches, will Silver observing that it was the happiest moment in Lilia’s life.

The senate appears and begins to praise Lilia for his efforts, calling him a hero, at which point Lilia begins to wake up due to the contrast with reality, where he was actually abused for daring to touch the royal heir, with Malleus again taken away from him.

With his in-dream birth Malleus is able to manifest in Lilia’s dream and reveals he was never told any of the sacrifices that Lilia made for him, and Lilia fully awakens.

Lilia sends the group of Silver, Sebek, Grim and the prefect away in order to distract Malleus alone.

(This summary is also available on twstnote!)

[pokepollsters]

Little Cup Stats- March 2025

Each of our Little Cup Polls this month were suggested by someone different! But they all posed an interesting question to answer- and here's how the answers stack up. Hope you enjoy more stats, and don't forget to submit your own Little Cup Poll suggestions if you have them!

Week #9 (Mascots)

Our first question this month gave us a look into a world without Pikachu as the series mascot! 3 Pokémon have been named by the developers as potential mascots had they not chosen Pikachu, and it was our task to pick between them. This was how it played out after 461 votes:

Psyduck- 29.3%, 135 votes

Clefairy- 46.6%, 215 votes

Poliwhirl- 21.9%, 101 votes

See results- 2.2%, 10 votes

And adjusted after discounting those who couldn't choose:

Psyduck- 29.9%

Clefairy- 47.7%

Poliwhirl- 22.4%

And in visual form:

Clefairy is the clear winner! The Water Types just couldn't compete with Clefairy's cute charm!

Week #10 (Eeveelutions)

The only question this month posed by me, I was curious to know just how many people like to use the Eeveelutions- and how many of them you've each used at one point or another! There were 567 votes, and this was how it looked:

0- 4.2%, 24 votes

1- 6.7%, 38 votes

2- 7.4%, 42 votes

3- 12.3%, 70 votes

4- 11.6%, 66 votes

5- 9.9%, 56 votes

6- 7.2%, 41 votes

7- 4.9%, 28 votes

8- 32.1%, 182 votes

See Results- 3.5%, 20 votes

When we remove those who couldn't vote for whatever reason, the adjusted numbers are:

0- 4.4%

1- 7%

2- 7.7%

3- 12.8%

4- 12.1%

5- 10.2%

6- 7.5%

7- 5.1%

8- 33.3%

And that visually looks like this-

So exactly a third of our voters have used all of Eevee's delightful evolutions! And approximately speaking, the other thirds have each used 0-3 Eeveelutions, or 4-7 Eeveelutions.

Week #11 (Star-Shaped Pokémon)

Further into the month, we had another question of which Pokémon you preferred over others! This time though, the selection was based on shape- the shape of a star! These stellar Pokémon all wanted your vote, and this is how it went after 738 votes:

Cleffa- 6.2%, 46 votes

Clefairy- 8.7%, 64 votes

Clefable- 2.8%, 21 votes

Staryu- 4.1%, 30 votes

Starmie- 8.3%, 61 votes

Solrock- 4.6%, 34 votes

Jirachi- 38.6%, 285 votes

Minior- 26.2%, 193 votes

See Results- 0.5%, 4 votes

Now we'll adjust the percentages when we remove the indecisive votes, but let's also include an additional note for the totals when we group together evolution lines!

Cleffa- 6.3%

Clefairy- 8.7%

Clefable- 2.9%

Cleffa/Clefairy/Clefable Line- 17.8%, 131 votes

Staryu- 4.1%

Starmie- 8.3%

Staryu/Starmie Line- 12.4%, 91 votes

Solrock- 4.6%

Jirachi- 38.8%

Minior- 26.3%

In chart form, it looks like this:

So while there was strong competition, Jirachi was the favourite, and not even combining evolution lines could compare to it!

Week #12 (Early-Game Normal Types)

Our final poll of the month concerned those Normal Types you find early on in your adventure. Every Generation has at least 1, and some more than that! But which was the most popular one? There were 523 votes, and the results were:

Rattata- 3.4%, 18 votes

Sentret- 11.3%, 59 votes

Zigzagoon- 26.2%, 137 votes

Bidoof- 11.5%, 60 votes

Patrat- 1.3%, 7 votes

Lillipup- 14.9%, 78 votes

Bunnelby- 2.7%, 14 votes

Yungoos- 1.1%, 6 votes

Skwovet- 1.9%, 10 votes

Wooloo- 22%, 115 votes

Lechonk- 3.1%, 16 votes

See Results- 0.6%, 3 votes

After adjustment:

Rattata- 3.5%

Sentret- 11.3%

Zigzagoon- 26.3%

Bidoof- 11.5%

Patrat- 1.4%

Lillipup- 15%

Bunnelby- 2.7%

Yungoos- 1.2%

Skwovet- 1.9%

Wooloo- 22.1%

Lechonk- 3.1%

And in chart form:

So Zigzagoon reigns above all early Normal Types! Wooloo came close to toppling the throne, but it wasn't enough. Poor Yungoos and Patrat though, neither of their vote counts broke out of single digits!

Final Stats

And now the monthly stats. 2,282 votes were cast this month, down again from last month's 2,769 votes, with an average of 571 votes per poll! Likewise, this is a decrease from last month's average of 692 votes per poll. Seems these questions didn't capture quite as much attention as previous ones! This still keeps the overall Little Cup Poll average vote total at a respectable 700 though.

Looking at the voting trends, it seems an average amount of votes seems to be emerging, with certain polls getting a bit more attention than others every few weeks. We'll have to see if this holds true in the future.

And that's all for March! As always, thank you for voting, and I hope to see you all back here for more stats in another month's time. And as a final reminder, keep those poll suggestions coming- this series is nothing without your input!

Last month's stats!

[thequiver]

Who is....James Proudstar | Warpath? - A Reading Guide

James "Jimmy" Proudstar, is an X-Men affiliated character from Marvel Comics first introduced in 1984. Jimmy is a member of the Yavapai-Apache Nation, and was born in Camp Verde, Arizona. Jimmy grew up idolizing his older brother, John, who would die while on a mission with the X-Men, prompting Jimmy's own path into the world of mutant infighting. Jimmy's story includes topics around the mistreatment of indigenous people (including the medical experimentation that they've suffered), as well as dealing heavily with themes of grief and healing. However, given the nature of American comic books and the lack of diversity among writers, the comics do not always do a good job addressing themes and plots specifically related to Jimmy being Apache.

Many earlier comics do not accurately depict Jimmy's skin-tone or culture, so while in the graphic above I have adjusted some coloring, please be advised that in an unfortunately large number of the following issues...he will look white.

Reading list is under the cut!

From Hellions to X-Force

Jimmy's first appearances are with the Hellions, a villainous group of mutants under the direction of Emma Frost. Jimmy joined their ranks following the death of his brother, John, when he was determined to get revenge on the X-Men- he soon found that he didn't fit in with the Hellions and returned home. Cable approached him about joining the New Mutants but he declined until he discovered that the Hellfire Club (of which Emma was part) had murdered his entire tribe. Now fueled by a desire for revenge against Emma Frost, Jimmy agreed to join the New Mutants right before they turned into X-Force.

New Mutants (1983)#16-17 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #193 Firestar (1986) #2-3 New Mutants (1983) #39, 43, 53-54, 56, 62, 99-100, Annual 7A New Warriors (1992) #Annual 1A Uncanny X-Men (1981) #Annual 15A X-Factor (1986) # Annual 6A X-Force (1991) #1-3 Spider-Man (1990) #16 X-Force (1991) #4-5, Annual 1C Warheads (1992) #4-5 X-Force (1991) #6-7A, 9A-15 X-Cutioner's Song X-Men (1991) #17 New Warriors (1990) #31 X-Force (1991) #19, 21-26, Annual 2, 27-33 New Warriors (1990) #46 X-Force (1991) #34-38 Blaze (1994) #4-5 X-Force (1991) #39-41, 43 Cable (1993) #21 X-Force (1991) #44-53, 55-58 X-Force and Cable '96 (1996) #1A X-Force (1991) #59-61, 63-64 X-Force and Cable '97 (1997) #1 X-Force (1991) #65-66, -1, 68-71 Deadpool (1997) #12 X-Force (1991) #72-93, Annual 1999, 94-98 Cable (1993) #73-75 X-Force (1991) #99-117

X-Corporation

After the dissolution of X-Force, Jimmy would join the international mutant taskforce, X-Corporation.... it didn't last very long....

New X-Men (2001) #133 X-Force (2004) #2-3

X-Men

Jimmy keeps his powers after M-Day and returns to the Xavier Institute where he ends up "joining the X-Men". (It's complicated).

Uncanny X-Men (1981) #475-476, 478-479, 481-482, 484-491

X-Force: Take 2 (Now with Wolverine)

A new X-Force was formed, led by Wolverine (Logan) to do the more....extreme tasks the normal X-Men won't.

Uncanny X-Men (1981) #493 X-Factor (2006) #26 New X-Men (2004) #45 X-Men (1991) #206 X-Factor (2006) #27 (mostly here as set up for the next issue) New X-Men (2004) #46 X-Men (1991) #207 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #498-499 X-Force (2008) #1-6 X-Force: Ain't No Dog (2008) #1B Cable (2008) #6-7, 9-10 X-Force (2008) #7-11 X-Men: Legacy (2008) # Annual 1A, 230A X-Force (2008) #12-13 X-Force/Cable: Messiah War (2009) #1 Cable (2008) #13 X-Force (2008) #14 Cable (2008) #14 X-Force (2008) #15 Cable (2008) #15 X-Force (2008) #16-18, 20

Necrosha, etc.

After the events of Messiah War, Jimmy became embroiled in Necrosha (reanimated mutants were being controlled by Selene and the T-O virus). After fixing that scenario, Jimmy quit X-Force, stayed in Utopia after the schism, and would join the X-Men in a war against the Avengers. (This era technically includes Age of X, but Jimmy doesn't really...do much there so I didn't include those appearances).

X-Necrosha (2009) #1A,C X-Force (2008) #21, Annual 1A, 22A-25 Nation X (2010) #4C X-Men: Schism (2011) #5 (Jimmy's only in like 3 panels but they're important) X-Men: Legacy (2008) #260 X-Men (2010) #20-29

Weapon X

After all...that. Jimmy was captured by the restarted Weapon X Program, after being rescued the team Jimmy was on started by renaming themselves "Weapon X" as a way to reclaim the program that had hurt them. During this time, Jimmy started dating Domino...which was certainly a choice on the writer's part....

Weapon X (2017) #2, 4 Weapons of Mutant Destruction: Alpha (2017) #1 Totally Awesome Hulk (2016) #20 Weapon X (2017) #5 Totally Awesome Hulk (2016) #21 Weapon X (2017) #6 Totally Awesome Hulk (2016) #22 Phoenix Resurrection: The Return of Jean Grey (2017) #1-5 Weapon X (2017) #7-21 Astonishing X-Men (2017) #13A-17 Extermination (2018) #3-5 X-Force (2018) #1A-5, 7-10

Krakoa and Fall of X

Like many mutants, Jimmy moved to the mutant nation of Krakoa. While on Krakoa he joined the New Mutants, and would have a chance to reconnect with his beloved brother, John.

New Mutants (2019) #14-15, 18-24 Giant Size X-Men: Thunderbird (2022) #1 New Mutants (2019) #29 New Mutants: Lethal Legion (2023) #1 X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (2021) #121-123, 138-142

[florhibiscus]

i. Pilot.

No longer writing for TIME atm, check out my KEANUVERSE post here

Time Masterlist Next Previous

Pairing - John Wick x fem!reader

Summary - The first chapter of Time an overview or simply a start to learning more about Mrs. Wick as you, the reader, dives into the John Wick world and what it has in store.

Word Count - 662

Warnings - None really just mild language and whatnot

i. Пилот

6:22 a.m

The recollection of how you ended up here is hazy. Outside, it's dark and rain pours relentlessly, accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. As you gradually awaken, you notice the cold, unoccupied space on your bed. "John," you think, "he must be up by now." You slowly get up, the floor cool beneath your feet, as you make your way out of the bedroom. The hallway is silent, except for the steady rhythm of rain tapping against the windows.

"John?" you call out softly as you descend the stairs to the kitchen. There he is, at ease and focused, appearing more revitalized than ever. He's at the stove, expertly preparing breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast, and crispy bacon. Daisy is at his side, munching on a bowl of cereal. You make a mental note: groceries are needed soon.

John glances up from his task, offering a soft smile. "Morning," he mumbles, his voice still rough from sleep. You return the smile, appreciating these moments of genuine connection and grounding. Stepping further into the kitchen, you decide to lend a hand. "Let me help," you say, taking out a few plates and utensils. John acknowledges you with a quick look and assists in helping with breakfast.

7:23 a.m

The soothing melodies fill John's Mustang, enveloping you both in its tunes as you drive through the city. There are errands to run, and the conversation flows naturally between looking out at the passing scenery. John is normally reserved and thoughtful, calculated in speech with others, but with you, he's more open, full of smiles and sideways glances. This past month has been a new chapter of peace—John's post-retirement life is more peaceful, and you've adopted Daisy to bring him companionship.

The car stops at a gas station, and as John refuels, you notice a group of-Russian speaking men to your side, engrossed in conversation and smoking. They seem familiar, but you shift your focus to Daisy and John. You barely register the approach of one man.

"Nice ride," the blond man comments to John, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Mustang, Boss 429. Is it a '70 model?" he inquires curiously.

John replies with serene composure, "'69."

"Beautiful car." The man continues, tapping the hood of the car, "how much?" He meets your gaze with a sense of familiarity. John's reply is resolved though the man seems to get upset with John's reply

as he returns to the car, bending down the man glances at you before looking at the dog.

"Oh I love dogs..." the man pauses reaching out to pet Daisy adding under his breath, "у всего есть цена, сука." (Everything's got a price, bitch). Shocked, you look to John for his reaction. His response was gruff.

"Не эта сука." (Not this bitch). John muttered, before tensions ascend a man in a grey suit pulls the man off of the car.

Confused and concerned, you offer John a reassuring touch. "John...?" you question. He meets your gaze briefly, his grip on the steering wheel firm but calm.

"I think groceries can wait," you suggest, offering a comforting smile. "We have enough for now. Maybe we can order in and enjoy a quiet evening, relaxing?"

John gives a slight nod, softening with your suggestion. "Are you hinting at something, dear?"

You tease gently, glancing out the window. "Not at all," you reply, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze, just as your home's driveway comes into view.

10:56 p.m

It's late, and you find yourself staring at the ceiling in tranquility. Daisy nestles in between you and John, her presence a comforting weight. As your fingers absentmindedly stroke her fur, sleep begins to reclaim you.

[blog-de-una-persona-bi]

LONG TIME NO SEE!!

So, recently, I had a crisis bc my chrome kinda refreshed? Idk, I just know that ALL my old tasks just popped, and all my recent ones got erased, so, it was NOT fun trying to find my recent readings 😃.

I have ANOTHER Zosan Idea, ONE AS TEACHERSSSS, OMGGGGG.

I dont think I've said this one, but I've had this on my mind for a while:

The straw hats are teachers! Almost All of them at least.

Robin: teacher of history; Nami: economy OR astronomy (do university have courses abt weather? If so, she would teach it); Zoro: Kendo team coach; Jimbe: Natation team coach; Sanji: Gastronomy and ethics; Franky: Mecanics; Ussop: architecture; Chopper would actually be a nurse, and doctor....forgot her name 😭, but the doctor with whom he was b4 being a strawhat pirate; Luffy: custodian or security guard (idk why, he would be a disaster on that, but he doesn't fit as the principal so 😭); brook: band teacher.

THE STRAWHATS ARE HIGH SHOOL FRIENDS!!!, like, they all went to the Grand Line High School, but all of them went to different universities or different parts of the world, like:

Sanji, Nami, Ussop, Robin, and Chopper went to universities, Zoro trained with Mikhaw (DONT KNOW HOW TO SPELL IT GUYS), Franky met the group when they were applying, or maybe just met Robin or Luffy (or Ussop, maybe they both went to an ingeniery university) Brook was already working in the university, so did Jimbe, Luffy just travelled the world, and "found" the one piece (it is never said what it was, but after that Luffy was ready to stay with his friends, or maybe you can say what it was, idk), after that he took security courses or just straightup applied as a custodian.

Sooo, every student knows that Zoro and Sanji are always fighting, but they also know that they always spend their lunch and breaks together, if one doesn't have a class or has a planification period, then is in the other classroom. Sanji often is used as the demonstration figure on how other opponents would react, and helps Zoro training. Zoro is used as a demonstration of what NOT to do in Sanji's ethics class.

Is well knows that whatever the gastronomy students do, is also given to the Kendo club (to other clubs too, but just if the schedule of their practices don't fit with the clases).

I dont know if this actually happens or is possible, but the university name is "New World", each part has a house (like delta, omega, alpha, etc) but with the pirates crew's name, like the strawhats, heart pirates, etc.

(They obviously have more teachers, but let just focus on the strawhats)

They are all in their 30's-50's (56 the highest). Nobody knows that Zoro and Sanji are married, not only bc of how they treat each other, but bc they don't have anything like a ring.

The thing is, neither of them can use a ring, Sanji bc of cooking, Zoro bc of Kendo (even is Sanji does use rings, he uses them form time to time, and he is a romantic, so he always wants to wear his ring, no matter the place or time) so they use Zoro's earrings and Sanji's hairpins.

But Sanji has long hair, and only pulls it back during his cooking class, in which, the remaining hair covers up his ear. Zoro in the other hand, cuts his hair every 3 weeks (Sanji cuts it) and only uses the hairpins while trying, what he only does when he is with Sanji, but Sanji doesn't teach none of the Kendo team, so nobody recognise the hairpins with seashells forms.

Until, suddenly, both of them days that they'll be absent for a week, and that when they come back, they were going to have a test, both at the same time. The week goes by, and they are back, both with sunburns and big smiles. Sanji is red from the sunburn, while Zoro's skin is a little bit darker than b4, but they are both happy. Obviously, this doesn't pass over their students' heads, and they start to be suspicious, but they have no time to worry about that. They have tests to complete.

The end of the year is here, and both seniors and teacher are going to the dance (do universities do that??). Every student's mouth is gaping by how close they both are un the dancing part.

Sanji and Zoro's relationship is now officially known bi the seniors, but every year, they find it fun for the next generation to just find out like them, so they let them be.

The story can be told by a student pov, or maybe just by a narrator, either way, maybe the "married part" can be a surprise, or just give a little hints like "and if some one see them after lunches, or they go out of school in the same car, then no one says nothing" things like that.

THATS ALL YALL, REMEMBER TO DRINK WATER AND SLEEP PROPERLYYYY!!! congratulations for class of 2025 btw, my sister is one of them so, important to point that out lol.

Live y'all, kisses and wishes to be bad bitches 💋💅

[grizzishungry]

My Oc lore Guide: Simple

———————————————————————————

Here’s a small quick run down of my Oc, not everything is complete so I won’t have a lot down yet (:

Name: Kayden Amos Sanderson

Callsign: Grizzly (Grizz)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight (accepting of all lgbtq+)

D.O.B: November 10th, ****

Nationality: American

Heritage: Canadian, American

Height: 6’2 (187.96cm)

Weight: 196 lbs (88.904 kilos)

Age: Mid 20s

———————————————————————————

Description:

Hair Color: Dirty Blonde with light brown roots (mostly dirty blonde)

Eye color: Stormy Blue gray (Shifts between gray and blue in different lightings)

Scars:

Face: 2 horizontal scars across the bridge of his nose, cutting off at the right side of his cheek. (Bear Claw scar)

Abdomen: Claw mark scar across abdomen where abs would be. (Bear Claw scar)

Left forearm: Bear teeth scars in left forearm (Bear Bite Scar)

Finer details:

Sharper Canine teeth (Toothy Grin)

Military sleeve tattoo on right arm.

———————————————————————————

Military Service:

Former USMC transferred to Task Force 141, after 4 year contract he was re-enlisted back to the military by Commander Phillip Graves. Becoming a Ranking Sergeant at Shadow Company.

Side notes:

-Grizz went to Shadow Company after TF 141, because he noticed slight corruption and how things were done there.

-Was there that night of the Betrayal in Las Almas Mexico. Was the Soldier next to Graves who wasn’t shot. (TF 141 felt even more betrayed when they found out that Grizz was working for Shadow Company and was helping the betrayal)

-With all the knowledge Grizz had at TF 141, he willing gave all knowledge to Graves. Helping him weed his way into getting well needed info about plans TF141 had or has.

Rank: Sergeant

Affiliation: Shadow Company (Prior: Task Force 141, USMC)

Professions: Firearms, Field Tactics, Wilderness Survival

———————————————————————————

Callsign Backstory:

About late January, time: After Midnight

Weather: Blizzard Conditions (No Moonlight)

12:56 am ( Russia)

Kayden was out on a Solo mission, out to gather data on a group known as Konni group. A Russian Terrorist organization wanting to bring Russia back to its former Glory.

The Winds were howling, and the snow falling down in white sheets. The old beat up ex military vehicle Kayden was driving slowly dying.

As Kayden came around a corner, the old truck began to fish tail. The road Turing to ice quickly, so the tires could not grip the road. The truck swerved off the road and head on, into a show bank.

1:32 am

Kayden sat behind the truck digging the tires out, they were about 4 inches into the snow. The front of the truck was alright but the truck couldn’t move due tk the snow.

As Kayden was digging, he took a small break and got up and backed away from the truck slightly. Just then he heard a small grunt before some sharp, swiped across his face. Hot blood oozing down.

He let out a grunt of pain. As he opened his eyes, he was met with the fuming eyes of an angry bear. She roared before clamping down onto Kayden’s arm, biting and tearing at muscle.

Kayden cried out in pain and his other hand quickly and trembly reached down into his holster, pulling his pistol. But before he could shoot, the paw of the bear reached and slashed his abdomen wide. Making him cry in agony.

He shakily reached for his Pistol. Aimed. Fired.

One crack of the gun, and the bear went limp. A red hole of blood formed on her head.

Kayden shakily reached for his radio and spoke. Only a few words coming out

“K-Kayden to Command”

“Grizzly”

“Hurt, Evac please”

“Grizzly…”

———————————————————————————

Still more to come but that’s all I got for today. Thanks for reading (:

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jamie Tahsin at Vice:

As the polls began to dramatically shift in favor of Donald Trump on the evening of the election, Elon Musk, arguably Trump’s biggest supporter in recent months, tweeted: “The cavalry has arrived. Men are voting in record numbers. They now realize everything is at stake.” The top reply came from the notorious influencer and accused rapist and human trafficker, Andrew Tate. His summary of the election: “It’s men vs gays n chicks.” 

Tate’s political analysis had the tone of a 14-year-old playground bully, but Musk’s excitement at men turning out to vote spoke to something fundamentally true: that Donald Trump’s plan was working. When I first read the tweet, I began searching for evidence that men were indeed turning up in record numbers. On Musk’s platform, X, I was greeted with videos from Philadelphia and Miami of young men wearing red caps celebrating in the streets—pickup trucks tearing down street-lit highways with MAGA flags trailing from their cargo beds. After covering the Manosphere and the hyper-online ‘Bro’ Right for the past five years, I knew that in recent months they had mobilized like never before behind Trump, and that if they were motivated enough to actually go out and vote, Trump had a serious edge. 

Videos began to spread of frat boys across the US declaring their support for Donald Trump. When his victory was announced, one group filmed themselves performing Trump’s dance moves to “Y.M.C.A.” on the steps of their fraternity. 

Men aged 18-29—a group that has been politically unengaged in recent years—voted decisively for Trump. The Wall Street Journal reported a shift to the right of 28 points among this group. According to the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning, 56 percent of young male voters opted for Trump in 2024—a marked increase from 41 percent in 2020. In Trump’s successful courtship of this cohort, his secret weapon appears to have been his 18-year-old son, Barron. 

[...]

But Barron’s role in Trump’s media strategy goes beyond just introducing Trump to figures like Adin Ross. Barron and his best friend, fellow 18-year-old Bo Loudon, were tasked by the campaign with helping Trump reach a young male audience. Loudon is a pro-Trump influencer, and son of the conservative media personality Gina Loudon, former co-chair of Women for Trump. Bo and Barron reportedly set up the Adin Ross stream, and Bo has claimed he helped set up Trump’s interview with Joe Rogan, too. 

On the day of the election, figures from across the vast and frequently depressing multiverse that is the online ‘Bro right’ gave their ringing endorsements of Donald Trump, and implored their fans to go and vote for him. Upon the announcement of his victory, John Shahidi of the Nelk Boys tweeted: “Idc what anyone says, podcasts helped us win this election.” When the Wall Street Journal reported that ‘Younger Men Voted Decisively for Donald Trump,’ Shahidi reposted it alongside the message, “Shout-out to our entire team!” A part of Trump’s message that particularly resonated with his young male audience, and the podcast hosts he made appearances with, was his seemingly favorable stance towards cryptocurrencies, and his puzzling claim that Bitcoin will be “made in the USA.” Earlier this year, in Austin, Texas, I interviewed an African-American man who told me he would vote Trump for the first time, almost entirely because of his stance towards crypto. 

[...] The rise of influencers like Tate and Ross aren’t just a symptom of young men shifting to the right, but an active factor that has exacerbated it. The ideology gap is widening between young men and women, not just in America, but all over the world. In the UK there is a 25-point gap between the views of young men and women; in Germany, this rises to 30.  The factors that have led us here are wide-ranging, but in making a concerted effort to reach out to disaffected young men, Trump gained an edge in what is being described as one of the most consequential elections in US history. We saw a similar effect in the UK during the last election, as young men shared their support for Nigel Farage and his Reform Party.  Many of the complaints coming from young men may appear to be misguided. Yet if politicians on the Left do not find a way to reach out to this group, and engage with it where it dwells online, opportunist populists like Trump and Farage most certainly will. In this election, one of Trump’s strongest weapons appears to have been his gigantic, chronically online 18-year-old son, his best friend Bo, and the ‘Bros’ they swung for Trump.

What the hell is wrong with these misogynistic and privileged frat bro males who got Trump over the line?

[publiccollectors]

Yesterday was my 54th birthday. I had a lovely afternoon gathering with friends and family at house where I tasked everyone with participating in a Public Collectors project: 54 YEARS / 56 CENTS / LIFE SAVINGS. It was a total joy to work on together. Below are the instructions I wrote out. If you would like a postcard, message me your address. - Marc Fischer / Public Collectors

November 2, 2024

54 YEARS / 56 CENTS / LIFE SAVINGS

Mailing postcards is a small but tactile way to show that you are thinking about other people.

The estate of my spouse Jen Blair’s late relatives contained many unused postcards and even more unused postage stamps. Today we will use these functional materials that they were not able to finish using in their lifetimes.

How to add postage to the postcard:

1. The total value of the stamps must equal 56 cents. It’s okay if you go over by a penny or two – this is harder than it seems, and stamps are small and tough to read.

2. You must use at least 7 stamps to reach 56 cents. This grouping of stamps will constitute a public stamp collection.

3. You may not use more than one example of the same stamp design. Be careful.

4. The stamps should be placed neatly next to each other in a tight block, starting in the upper right corner, not scattered all over the postcard

5. You should allow enough space for an address to be written on the lower right side of the postcard.

6. Please do not write messages on postcards that are not being sent to someone you know.

I’m going to take some photos of this activity that I may share to document the day. Let me know if you don’t want to be photographed.

The paper these instructions were printed on is also from the estate.

Thank you for joining me on my 54th birthday.

[orcasoul]

Reckless

Summary: Joel and reader are paired up as patrol partners. Both have suppressed feelings for each other. He's frustrated with her sometimes impulsive actions and she's fed up of his coldness towards her. After an almost fatal encounter during a supply search they both admit their feelings for one another.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, infected attack, age gap (reader is in her late 30's and Joel is in his late 50's), Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5,588

"Stay close and don't do anything reckless!" Joel turned to you and gave you a look that left no room for arguments. You rolled your eyes and in a mocking voice replied "Yes sir," with a salute. Joel rolled his eyes in return before turning away. You can't help the smirk growing across your face, knowing how much it bugs him when you do that. But you can understand why he felt the need to say it. You wouldn't admit he was right when he accused you of acting before thinking sometimes, but there are times when risks are worth taking and you'd never willingly put yourself in a risky situation if you weren't confident you could handle it. You and Joel have been patrol partners for two months now, since you happened to stumble across Jackson on your way to..... nowhere, really. You were just existing at that point and so close to giving up until you were fortunate enough to cross paths with one of Jackson's patrol groups, and were welcomed into the community. They'd given you a purpose again so you took your patrols very seriously, wanting to do all you could to serve your community and prove yourself as a valuable member of Jackson.

At first your patrols with Joel were a little awkward. The man hardly spoke, unless it was to give you orders, or to voice his displeasure of being "stuck with a kid" on patrol. Kid! I guess to a grumpy 56 year old dinosaur a 37 year old is a kid, you once scoffed mentally. "I'm not here to babysit. I'm here to show you the ropes so you can do your part efficiently, got it?" Joel gruffed at you from his horse on your first patrol. "Good thing I don't need a babysitter then," you snapped back, glaring at him. Joel huffed and rolled his eyes. "Look you'd better be able to handle yourself out here because you're not my problem and I'm not gonna make you my problem, Okay?" "Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself. You now spoke louder so he could hear you. "If I couldn't handle myself I'd have been dead a long time ago. I don't need a protector and you and I know damn well I wouldn't be assigned to patrol if the council didn't deem me capable. So how about we just get on with the task at hand, eh?"

Joel turned back around on his horse, letting out an annoyed mumble. The truth was he'd already made you his "problem" and he didn't like it one bit! He'd caught the odd glimpses of you when you'd first arrived at Jackson and was immediately struck, not only by how beautiful you are but also by the look of disbelief written across your face. A feeling he knew all too well. Shock and awe, that a place like this could exist. A piece of heaven in a hellish world, he'd once described it, and if this was heaven then you must be an angel. After a few brief chats with you (well actually Tommy and Maria did most of the talking while he mostly just sat and listened to how sweet and genuine you came across) he knew then that you were different to other women he had known. There was just something about you. It was ridiculous! He hadn't felt this way about a woman in over twenty years, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start acting like a love-struck teenager at 56. So he decided it was best to push down any feelings he had developing and keep you at arms length.

And that's what he did. He barely spoke to you and quickly shut down any conversation you tried to strike up with him. After a few weeks he'd noticed you'd stopped trying. A part of him felt that maybe he was being too harsh and probably came across as an asshole but he couldn't allow himself to get too close to you. The more people you care for, the more you have to lose, besides it's not like someone as sweet and beautiful as her would be interested in a middle aged grump, he'd keep reminding himself when he felt like letting you in. So he did what he does best; He built a wall and hid behind it. At first Joel's stand-offish attitude irked you but you thought if you were going to be partners you'd at least try to get him to loosen up. Maybe he just needs me to take the first step and initiate the conversations, you mused. But after a few weeks of trying and being met with short answers and gruffs you realised you weren't going to get anywhere with him, so you just accepted the silence that mostly accompanied your patrols.

You tried to convince yourself that it didn't bother you but truthfully it did. And you knew why, even if you refused to think about the reason too much, trying to distract yourself whenever your thoughts went "there". You were attracted to him, had been since you met him. Even though he didn't speak much, something in his eyes and the way he looked at you ignited a desire and a need for this quiet, but extremely handsome man. You wondered if he was like this with everyone. He had a good twenty years on you so maybe he'd just seen a lot more horrors than you. Horrors that have no doubt moulded him into this brooding entity of a man. He also seemed to have had a lot more encounters with infected than you have, if the rumours were anything to go by, and they were probably true otherwise he wouldn't be alive now. So giving his experience you decided to mostly follow his orders while on patrol. Better safe than sorry, eh?

Today's patrol was going to be somewhat different than the usual checking and resetting of traps and scanning the area for trouble. You'd both been sent out to a small town about four miles to the east of Jackson, to a veterinary surgery to pick up some medical equipment that had been hidden away by the last patrol group, their bags being to full to take them at the time. You loved Jackson's animal's and since veterinary equipment and supplies were always in short supply this was like hitting the jackpot! Upon arriving you both dismount your horses and tie them up in an overgrown wooded area not far behind the building. Joel quickly sneaked around the building as you followed suit, guns at the ready for any kind of trouble. Peering in through the once glass glass entrance doors it appears the building is empty. "Let's go," you say with confidence as you begin to walk through the door frame, only to be roughly pulled back by Joel's calloused hand on your upper arm.

"What the fuck you doing, Joel?" you scold him as you rip your arm out of his grasp. "What the fuck are you doing?" He shot back angrily. "Just because it's quiet here it doesn't mean there's no infected further inside the building. I'm going first." As he brushes passed you, you can smell hints of sandlewood, earth and something.... Joel like. Damn it, does he have to smell so good? You shake your head to try and rid yourself of the intrusive thought. You hated that whenever he got too close you felt a rush of heat to your core and your heart would beat faster. Sure, you'd known from the moment you'd met him that he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, but you never imagined in a million years he'd be interested in someone so much younger than himself. Not when there were plenty of women his age in Jackson literally fawning all over him every Friday night at the Tipsy Bison.

So for the most part you'd just try to ignore your feelings and focus on your patrol duties with him. Even though sometimes you got the feeling he saw you as a hindrance, sometimes you felt like he hated you, you weren't about to let that get in the way of doing your job. And today is no different. You follow Joel quietly into the surgery, your senses on high alert, looking in every direction. As you pass the front desk you notice leaflets about pet insurance with the most adorable cat and dogs pictures on them, covered in 20 years of dust and mould. You smile sadly, imagining what this place would have been like in it's heyday and how you would have loved to work in a place like this. Focus, you idiot!" you mentally scold yourself, snapping your attention back to the present moment. You follow Joel down the darkened corridor of the building, the only light coming through the windows of rooms with open doors, just enough to see clearly.

Both of your heads scan from left to right as you make your way past the doors, some open, some closed. You'd both been instructed to go to the operating theatre at the back, push the grey cabinet from the wall and you'd find the supplies hidden in a hole behind it. You both approach the theatre slowly and silently. Once you were sure you were alone you closed the door and shrugged off your backpack, dropping it to the floor, as did Joel. "I got this," you say to Joel before he can walk over to the cabinet. As you pushed the cabinet the high pitched sound of metal scraping across the floor made you clench your teeth. To you it was like nails on a chalk board! But that sound was nothing compared to the sound that came next and it made your blood freeze. "SCREECH!" "SCREECH!" "SCREECH!", all at the same time. BANG! BANG! BANG! Both of your heads snap to the rattling door, then back to each other.

"Shit!" Joel cursed. "Hurry, fill the bags and hide." Looking around the large theatre it's evident that there aren't many things to hide behind, just some operating tables and crates. You only manage to fill the bags half full before the door bursts open, slamming against the wall. Joel grabbed your hand and pulled you behind an operating table with him, communicating with his eyes that everything will be okay. He brings a finger to his lips, silently telling you to be quiet. You hadn't realised just how hard you'd been breathing, as your rapid heartbeat had filled your ears with the sound of rushing blood. You take slow, quiet breaths, desperately trying to calm your nerves. You both pull your knives out. Guns are loud and clickers are abnormally fast. If there were only two of them you could take one each, but it's just your luck that there are three of the fuckers, making it too risky to fire your guns. Joel throws his head over his shoulder, gesturing for you to follow, the both of you taking agonisingly slow, crouched steps around the table.

After a series of deafening screeches and clicks, the three clickers began to clumsily stagger around the room, scanning for whatever had caused the noise. As you follow Joel across the room you suddenly realise the backpacks have been left behind. You gently pull on Joel's arm to get his attention and point to the backpacks. Joel looks to where you are pointing but he shakes his head 'no'. The supplies are important, yes, but all that matters to him in this moment is getting you to safety. He can see the silent protest in your eyes and he knows just how stubborn and impulsive you can be. Before you can begin to crawl back to the bags Joel roughly grabs your wrist, pulling you closer "Leave them," his words are barely a whisper. Frustration bubbles within you, leading to anger. You hate having to leave such valuable and needed equipment behind just because these rotting bastards chose now of all times to turn up!

They must have turned up not long after you and Joel entered the building because the previous patrol would have put them down or at least warned you two before hand. Great fucking timing! You think to yourself, sarcastically. You roll your eyes and reluctantly nod, following Joel's lead. He seems so confident in this moment that you wonder how many times he's had to do this in the past, and for the first time since your patrols began you're grateful to have him with you. As you cautiously sneak behind Joel across the room you can't help but notice how broad his shoulders are and you find your gaze heading lower to his ass, his thick thighs, the sliver of skin between his jeans and jacket, now visible because he's crouching..... now's not the time, you quietly chastise yourself.

It's becoming more difficult to navigate the room with these fuckers aimlessly wandering around, and every click and shrill screech makes you freeze for a few moments. Joel seems to sense your unease and he gentle reaches back to take your hand in his. This is the gentlest he's ever touched you, and the sensation of his warm, big hand engulfing yours has your heart racing and butterflies flitting in your tummy. The concern and care he's showing you now is a stark contrast to the usual treatment he gives you.

Joel's heart is in his throat! The door is so close, yet so far. Gripping your shaking hand he slowly leads the way to the open door. As you both approach it he stops and pulls you in front of him to go first, then turning, he grabs the door, slowly moving it so it doesn't make a sound and pulls it ajar. He stand up, shaking out his aching legs one after the other. He turns to you as you stand, brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and whispers "You okay?" You can feel your cheeks heating up at his touch, his intense gaze boring right into the depths of you. Nervously you nod, trying to calm your breaths. It's not the infected that has you breathing heavily this time. Joel's hand slips from your cheek, down your arm and into your hand, linking his fingers through yours. Quietly you both make your way to the entrance doors, the sounds of clicking becoming more distant.

Once outside Joel breathes a sigh of relief while sheathing his knife. This could have ended badly, so badly. Weather you like it or not he has taken on the responsibility to always keep you safe and he would never have forgiven himself if he'd let you get infected or killed. He's pulled from his pensive state when you stop suddenly, releasing his hand. He hates the emptiness he feels in his palm, now that your soft warm touch has abandoned him. "Joel," you mutter as he turns to look at you in confusion. "We can't just leave everything behind. We can't go home empty handed." "Forget it," Joel replied with finality. "We're not going back. I barely got you out of there in one piece." It wasn't lost on you that he'd said you instead of us and it brought a warmth to your heart to know he cared about your safety somewhat. "We wouldn't have stood a chance in there but I'm sure we could handle them from out here. We just have to lure th-" "No!" he cut you off sharply. If he'd been with any other partner they would have dispatched those clickers quickly but he's not going to risk your life.

You huff and narrow your eyes at him. "So what? We just leave them behind because of a few... obstacles? They're too important. we need them." Joel shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Look, I'll come back with some of the others in a few days. We'll get rid of the infected and grab the supplies." " But they're all over the floor in clear sight. What if raiders come back through here and take them before you can return?" you ask with your hands on your hips and irritation in your voice. "Well then.... they take them," Joel snorted. "Let's get to the horses," he orderd before walking away from you. Sighing, you reluctantly follow, but not before throwing a glance over your shoulder and silently cursing those damned infected for ruining this golden opportunity. Golden opportunity, you thought. Yeah, this is a golden opportunity and how many of them do we get these days? After a few more moments of deliberation you decided it's worth the risk. "Fuck it," you muttered to yourself, slowing your pace behind Joel. He was already quite a way in front of you but you wanted a bit more distance between you two so he wouldn't notice you walking back.

When enough time had passed you slowly turn and make your way back to the surgery. Part of you feels foolish for doing this but damn it, Jackson needs these supplies and you're not going to fail them. You understand it's risky to take on clickers, especially alone but now you have the upper hand. You quickly form a plan as you near the building, grabbing a brick off the ground to use as a distraction. As you cautiously re-enter the surgery you draw your pistol, taking the safety off. Creeping stealthily down the dark corridor, the clicking becomes louder, making you tremble and your adrenaline spike. You silently open the door on your left, doing a quick check to make sure it's empty. A brick to the window will make for a pretty good distraction. Leaving the door wide open you slink to the theatre door, opening it as quietly as you can while trying to keep your breathing calm. The clickers are now almost motionless, swaying like jellyfish in the ocean, with no purpose or goal. You carefully retreat backwards, placing every step as delicately as you can to avoid making any noise, until you are in front of the other door. With your gun ready in one hand you lift the other hand holding the brick, take a deep breath, pray to any god that might be listening, and throw!

Joel knew it didn't make sense to leave the supplies behind and you were probably right to say you could both handle them now that you're outside, having space as an advantage, but in the two months you've been patrolling together you've never come as close to death as you did today and he won't lose another person he cares for, not now, not ever! The more he thought about it, the more he realised that pushing you away doesn't change how he feels about you. He hoped these feelings would fade away over time but if anything, he cares for you now more than ever and today has proven to him just how much you mean to him. Shit, he inwardly groaned while shaking his head. What the hell do i do about this? After a few more moments lost in his thoughts it dawned on him that he can't hear your footsteps behind him anymore.

Spinning on his heel his eyes frantically search the surrounding area for you but you're nowhere to be seen. His heart feels like it's about to bust through his rib cage as fear grips him with an unrelenting force. Before he can call your name the sounds of smashing glass and inhuman screams fill the once silent air. "Y/N!!" Joel screams your name so loudly his throat feels like it's on fire and he makes a desperate sprint for the surgery. A series of shots ring out as he nears the building. Now matter how fast he's running, it feels like he can't get to you fast enough, all the while imagining the worst. Charging through the foyer he hears clicker screeches mixed with your own screams. The sound of your screams absorb deep into his being, fuelling the same fury he felt when he learned what the fireflies were planning to do with Ellie. He rounded the corner of the front desk to the corridor and the world slowed down when he took in the sight of you pinned under a clicker, desperately pushing at it's neck to keep it's face from yours with one hand, and wildly flinging your other arm above your head in a blind search for your knife that is just out of reach.

All rational and deliberate thought abandoned Joel's mind and a primal need to protect possessed him. He lunged toward the clicker, knife drawn, and plunged it deep into it's decaying skull. The horrid, clawing monster became limp and silent before being lifted and thrown aside like a rag doll. In it's place was Joel, bloody knife pointing downwards, heaving deep breaths and looking at you with a mixture of anger and terror. You've never seen such raw emotion etched onto his face before and you were sure you were in for it now. "Joel," you rasped, relief mixed with trepidation. Still trembling from the encounter, you slowly sit up while staring at Joel wide eyed. You braced yourself for the angry admonishment you knew you deserved, but to your surprise Joel dropped to his knees in front of you, his knife clanging as it hit the tiled floor. "Are you hurt?! Are you bit?! Are you okay?!" The words came tumbling from his lips a hundred miles an hour as his hands wondered from your face to your neck, to your shoulders, to your arms, to your legs and finally your torso.

You can only stare at him in bewilderment, noticing the tears glossing over his eyes and how his entire body is shaking. You place your palms over his trembling hands to try and calm him. "I'm okay Joel, honestly," you reassure him in a gentle tone. He looks down at your hands placed on his and realises he's holding tightly onto your waist. Embarrassed, he swiftly drops his hands, clears his throat and stands up. He offers his hand to pull you up, which you gingerly accept. You stand, looking up into his dark eyes that now seem to want to tell you... something. No words are spoken for what feels like forever. You break the silence first. "Guess we can get our backpacks now," you whisper nervously, your arms and legs still shaking from the adrenaline that hasn't quite left your system. Joel stands as still as a statue, his face now emotionless and it was unnerving to say the least. You're used to him being grumpy and irritable, you're used to seeing him confident and meticulous, but this was something else, and you don't know how to even speak to him right now. It's almost as if he's not even there, as if he's in a trance!

You swallow the lump in your throat as you head towards the theatre, glancing at the bodies of the other two clickers you managed to shoot in the next room. After filling the backpacks with all of the medical equipment, you rise to find Joel standing in the doorway, still staring but now he looks furious. "Um... here you go..." you murmured as you walked over to him and held out his backpack. Joel snatched it from your grasp, causing you to flinch slightly, and stormed outside. "Shit," you mutter under your breath and follow him outside with your head hanging low in shame. The walk to the horses was unbearably quiet, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. You know you had just fucked up, big time! He'll probably never patrol with you again after this.

At least one good thing has come of this. You have the supplies, so maybe it wasn't all bad. "Hey, Joel?" you utter his name shyly as you reach the horses saddles. Joel stops, slightly turns his head to the side, huffs and mounts his horse. Blinking back tears you mount your horse and gently kick it's sides to make it move, making sure to keep a few paces behind Joel's horse. The silence is deafening. With nothing else to occupy your mind it replays that almost fatal encounter over and over again. If Joel hadn't have got there when he did you'd be dead now, that's for certain. You had been so sure you could handle them yourself, but once again Joel was proven right; You don't think before you act, and this time you almost paid the ultimate price. But the worst part for you was that you'd put Joel in danger. If he had died because of your actions you'd never be able to live with yourself. Guilt begins to gnaw at you, an oppressive and gut wrenching sensation that just grows stronger the more you think about it.

You could have gotten him killed and now you're responsible for this strange.... episode he's having. Unable to suffer the crippling guilt and uneasy silence any longer, you sidle up beside Joel. He's still looking dead ahead, unwilling to acknowledge your presence. "Hey," you clear your throat, awkwardly. "Thanks for saving me back there." Joel just tensed his jaw and nodded ever so slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened. Can we talk for a minute?" "No," Joel snapped. "Joel," you say quietly. "I said no." Joel kicked his horse to make it move faster. You glare at him and sigh in frustration at his stubbornness. For god's sake, I'm trying to apologise and he's being a dick, you bitterly think. You pull on the reigns, bringing your horse to a sudden stop and dismount. Joel quickly stops his horse and turns to face you. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked in exasperation. "I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me," you reply with your arms crossed over your chest, chin held high.

"We're not doing this now. Get back on the horse Y/N." "Not until you talk to me!" you yell at him, frustration seeping through your words. Joel could feel his anger flare and before he could think, he jumped off his horse and stormed over to where you stood defiantly. "You wanna talk? Fine. What the fuck where you doing, going back in there by yourself?!" He roared. "You got a fucking death wish, or something?!" His hands are balled into fists at his sides, chest heaving with angry breaths and his face turning red. You've never seen him this angry before. It was confusing that he'd show this level of care over your well being when most of the time you could swear he hated you. "I'm sorry," you sigh. "I didn't think it through-" "No, you didn't, as usual!" Joel retorted. Okay you'll give him that one. "I just didn't want to fail the community. These supplies are important-" "More important than your life?" Joel asked, his words laced with frustration. "Well... maybe... yeah," you spoke quietly.

Joel blinked and snapped his head back in stunned silence at your words. He didn't expect you to ever say that. "What do you mean 'yeah'?" he cried in disbelief. "The animals are vital to Jackson. Everyone depends on them for food, clothing, transport. So maybe it was worth risking my life. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I just hate myself for putting you in danger. I'm really sorry Joel." Your voice trembled slightly on the last few words. Joel couldn't believe what he was hearing! "I don't care about me, I'm furious with you for putting yourself in danger. What if I had been a few seconds later? You be fucking dead now!" "I know," you looked down at your feet, feeling like a child who'd broken their parents' favourite ornament after being told to leave it alone. "I just can't believe how goddamn stupid you are!" Your head snapped up like a pissed off cobra as he spat those words out at you. Here you are apologising and he goes and calls you stupid, oh hell no! Your cheeks burn in anger as the blood in your veins begins to boil. "Excuse me?! I've just apologised and accepted all your criticisms, but don't you dare call me stupid!" Now it's your turn to curl your fists.

"What else am I supposed to think when you do shit like that? You almost died!" Your guilt is now being burned away by anger, filling you with a need to defend yourself. "What do you care if I died anyway?" You throw your hands up in indignation. "Yeah I made the wrong decision, but it was mine to make. Don't pretend that you care all of a sudden. Most of the time you fucking hate me!" Joel's eyes widen at your accusation. "Y...You think I hate you?" He asks, taken aback. "Well....yeah," you reply as though it should have been obvious. "I mean in two months you've only ever spoken to me to order me about. You won't even speak to me when I pass you in town. So what am I supposed to think?" "I don't hate you!" Joel can barely contain his vexation at this point. "Christ, do you realise what it would do to me if I lost you?" He stopped suddenly, realising what he had just let slip. He could see the astonishment on your face and knowing there's no turning back now, he continued, his voice calm but hesitant, "I don't hate you. I hate how I feel about you."

His confession was the last thing you had expected. After a few moments you collected yourself and walked closer to Joel so that you were looking up into his eyes. "And what do you feel?" you asked softly, while searching his rich brown eyes. The want and longing he feels for you is now abundantly evident in his gaze but he's unsure of what to do next. He was determined to keep his distance, so if he ever lost you it wouldn't hurt as much. But distant or not he almost did lose you and it was excruciating! He realised now he'd wasted enough time trying to push you away and he doesn't want to do that anymore, especially not now with the way you are looking at him. You delicately bring your hands to his chest and repeat the question. "Joel, what do you fe-" Before you can finish his lips crash onto yours, his hands grabbing your waist to pull you against his body.

You return the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around his back, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to caress yours. His hands tenderly wander up your back, one staying there while the other gently cups your cheek. After several more seconds he pulls away from your lips, guiding your head to the crook of his neck. "Fuck Y/N, I can't lose you, not you," he breathes the words into your ear. You smile deliriously into his neck, hoping this isn't a dream. You dreamed about having him for so long, but never once thought it would ever happen. "So you don't hate me, then?" You grin as you look up at him and rub your nose against his. Joel looks into your eyes adoringly and chuckles, "Of course not." "Then why have you been acting so cold towards me?" you enquire with genuine confusion. "I just didn't want to... feel anything for you. I was afraid to." You've never heard Joel speak with such vulnerability and it made your heart swell for him. "I've lost too many people and I thought pushing you away was for the best. But I can see now that it's the stupidest thing I've ever done. And I never even thought you would feel the same way about me. God, I can't believe how much time I've wasted when I should have just been honest with you."

The sincerity of his words has your head swimming and you kiss him again, hungrily. The tickly feel of his beard, his strong arms wrapping around you, the warmth of him as you press against his chest has you yearning for more of him. "I really like you Joel," you pant as you pull away. "I really like you too, darling," Joel replied just as breathless as you. His southern drawl on the word darling made your knees feel weak! "So let's not waste any more time. Meet me for a drink at the Tipsy Bison later? "Definitely," he answers while placing a quick peck on your nose. "I'm sorry for calling you stupid. You're not. I shouldn't have said that, I was just afraid." "It's okay," you reassure him. "And I promise, I won't take risks like that anymore." "Good, cause next time I'll kill you myself." Joel teases. You roll your eyes playfully and salute, "Yes sir." Joel shakes his head and laughs under his breath, causing a giggle to leave you and he knows now he'll be enjoying the sound of your laughter for a long time to come. You both return to your horses and mount to begin the journey back home side by side. This time the silence is comfortable and cozy, filled with soft glances and gentle smiles.

[study-with-aura]

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

I was finally able to get my discussion question answers posted on my gaming guild's discord. I haven't been active in the discord the past couple of weeks. I feel like every spare moment I have, I'm studying. I did Duolingo while eating breakfast, Khan Academy while eating lunch, and extra reading while being driven to dance. I am glad that I decided to take a break on Friday and Saturday since there is no dance on either day. I will probably work longer on my final project/paper, but also I'll be doing spring cleaning of my closet. I have plans to still be productive.

How is everyone else doing coming up to finals season? 🦄

Tasks Completed:

Algebra 2 - Learned about the addition rule of probability + practice

American Literature - Copied vocabulary words + reviewed genres of literature + continued working on the final project

Spanish 3 - Vocabulary quiz (100%) + watched episode 14 of Destinos

Bible 2 - Read Psalms 86, 87, and 88

Early American History - Read about the Emancipation Proclamation + read the Emancipation Proclamation

Earth Science with Lab - Read an article about speedy star changes + read about the faint young sun paradox + answered questions about fusion + wrote about the problems with old and stars evolving over millions of years

Art Appreciation - Read about George Seurat + read about his painting Sunday Afternoon + completed daily critiquing assignment on Seurat's Sunday Afternoon

Khan Academy - Completed U.S. History Unit 5: Lesson 2.3-2.6

Duolingo - Studied for approximately 15 minutes (Spanish + French + Chinese) + completed daily quests

Piano - Practiced for three hours

Reading - Read pages 485-562 of Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

Chores - None today

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (John 14:16-18)

Group Bible Study (Psalms 56, 120, 140, 141, 142)

Ballet

Variations

Journal/Mindfulness

[agentducky]

CLASSIFIED EXPEDITION REPORT W3: TUMBLR, THE PUBLIC SPHERE & THE WHALE THAT NEVER SLEEPS

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CODE ID: TCSR 022345 HARDNESS LEVEL: D URBAN FOLKLORE: The Blue Whale Challenge emerged as a sinister internet meme that encourages participants to harm themselves. Over a span of 50 days, an anonymous administrator allegedly assigns players increasingly dangerous dares, culminating in suicide (Khatta et al., 2022). Individuals seeking this challenge often find administrators through hashtags and images on social media, posing a potential threat to public safety (ibid). Although the Blue Whale Challenge has been labeled a hoax or myth, there is evidence of genuine suicidal or self-harming incidents associated with the BWC (Kumar et al., 2017).   Mayday Inc. was tasked with neutralizing the challenge, trudging in particular on platforms like Tumblr.

KEY INSIGHT ---------------------------------------------------- 🔹When considering Tumblr as a platform, it exhibits many characteristics of a public sphere. The public sphere is defined by Oxford Bibliographies (2018) as a social space where diverse opinions are shared, issues of collective concern are discussed, and solutions are collaboratively developed.   🔹However, two critical elements are lacking, unlimited access to information and the absence of institutional influence (Milne 2022). Currently, not everyone has internet access, which means that Tumblr, being an online platform, cannot guarantee unlimited access to information. Tumblr is subject to institutional influence, being restricted access to "mature" personal blogs on the iOS app (Silberling 2021). 🔹Some scholars argue that the traditional model of the public sphere has been supplanted by micro-publics on social media (Bruns et al., 2016, pp. 56–73). Although Tumblr is not qualifying as a true public sphere, it excels in fostering micro-publics, where smaller communities could thrive in focused discussions. However, this could result in an insular and echo chamber where propagators could influence members who often share similar views, limiting exposure to diverse perspectives that could counter harmful behaviors. 

EXPEDITION REPORT: ---------------------------------------------------- Five operators were constructed to foray into a concerned online group suspected of engaging with the Blue Whale Challenge (BWC).  Task: to trace its evolution, uncover its mechanics, and determine whether it was still active. What they found was not an open-and-shut case. Social media was designed to be a tool for self-expression and community (Boyd, 2014). Platforms like Tumblr, known for their anonymity (Bianchi et al., 2022), allow users to craft identities, seek validation and share intimate struggles. But in the wrong hands, these same spaces become hunting grounds. On Tumblr, users could stay anonymous (Bianchi et al., 2022); allowing the “curators” to target micro-publics without risk of revealing their identity. According to (Khasawneh, 2017), BWC targets individuals who exhibit signs of distress, users who post about loneliness, self-harm or a desire to escape reality. These individuals are subtly nudged towards the challenge, with curators first posing as sympathetic figures before shifting the narrative to control. "After sharing my contact information, a curator sent me a 50-day task. There was no turning back." — Operator ████ On Tumblr, users develop their own language, symbols, and aesthetic codes to navigate the platform, what Gibbs et al. (2015) call platform vernacular. This shared online culture makes it easier for dangerous content to blend in. For years, Tumblr has been a space where mental illness is aestheticized. The platform’s long history with “sad girl” culture, depression-core and self-harm blogging (Thelandersson, 2023) has created an environment where romanticized suffering (poetry, moody photography, cryptic quotes) blurs the line between self-expression and self-destruction. Within this ecosystem, BWC does not need to explicitly advertise itself; it spreads organically, camouflaged within the existing aesthetics of despair.

Additionally, Tumblr’s culture of storytelling and digital horror accelerates this spread (ibid). The site thrives on creepypasta formats, alternate reality games (ARGs), and interactive fear-myths. Challenges like BWC exist in the liminal space between urban legend and reality, where even attempts to debunk them inadvertently amplify their reach.

Algorithms do not differentiate between engagement and concern. Tumblr has attempted to moderate self-harm content by banning explicit tags (e.g., #selfharm, #depression), but this has led users to create new coded language (e.g., #shtwt, #gonewhale) (Cavazos-Rehg et al., 2017).

Tumblr’s moderation system is both overaggressive and deeply flawed, creating a paradox where genuine mental health resources are censored while harmful subcultures continue to thrive. Posts offering harm-reduction support are frequently flagged as “sensitive content,” limiting their reach and leaving vulnerable users without access to critical help (Cobbe, 2021). Yet, the very users seeking support are often pushed toward less moderated, more dangerous spaces, closed blogs, encrypted chats and reblog networks that evade detection (ibid). Harmful content does not vanish; including BWC adjacent challenges, resurface under the guise of “art projects” or cryptic journaling, slipping past moderation. 

“I tried reporting a blog,” Operator ████ noted, “but by the time it was taken down, the content had already spread. It wasn’t deleted, it was just reposted somewhere else.”

The operators withdrew.  Their investigation ended. 

REFERENCES

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bianchi, M., Fabbricatore, R., & Caso, D. (2022). Tumblr Facts: Antecedents of Self-Disclosure across Different Social Networking Sites. European Journal of Investigation in Health, Psychology and Education, 12(9), 1257-1271. https://doi.org/10.3390/ejihpe12090087

Bruns, A, Enli, G, Skogerbø, E, Larsson, A & Christensen, C 2016, The Routledge companion to social media and politics, Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, New York, pp. 56–73.Challenge. arXiv.org. https://arxiv.org/abs/1801.05588 

Cavazos-Rehg PA, Krauss MJ, Sowles SJ, et al. An Analysis of Depression, Self-Harm, and Suicidal Ideation Content on Tumblr. Crisis. 2017 Jan;38(1):44-52. DOI: 10.1027/0227-5910/a000409. PMID: 27445014; PMCID: PMC5253332.

Cobbe, J. (2021) Algorithmic Censorship by Social Platforms: Power and Resistance. Philos. Technol. 34, 739–766 . https://doi.org/10.1007/s13347-020-00429-0

Khasawneh, A., Madathil, K. C., Dixon, E., Wiśniewski, P., Zinzow, H., Roth, R., Department of Anesthesiology and Critical Care, & Khasawneh, C. A. (2017). Examining the self-harm and suicide contagion effects of the Blue Whale Challenge: Qualitative study. JMIR Mental Health. https://mental.jmir.org/2020/6/e15973 

Khattar, A., Dabas, K., Gupta, K., Chopra, S., & Kumaraguru, P. (2018, January 17). White or blue, the whale gets its vengeance: A social media analysis of the Blue Whale 

Kumar, A., Pandey, S. N., Pareek, V., Faiq, M. A., Khan, N. I., & Sharma, V. (2017). Psychobiological determinants of ‘Blue Whale Suicide Challenge’victimization: A proposition for the agency mediated mental health risk in new media age. Etiologically Elusive Disorders Research Network (EEDRN).

Milne, E 2022, ‘Week 3 Tumblr Case Study Lecture’, MDA20009 Digital Communities, Canvas.

Oxford Bibliographies 2018, Public Sphere, Oxford Bibliographies. https://www.oxfordbibliographies.com/view/document/obo-9780199756841/obo-9780199756841-0030.xml

Silberling, A 2021, Tumblr is at war with Apple over ‘mature’ content on its app again, Tech Crunch. https://techcrunch.com/2021/12/29/tumblr-ios-tags-ban-apple

Thelandersson, F. (2023). Social Media Sadness: Sad Girl Culture and Radical Ways of Feeling Bad. In: 21st Century Media and Female Mental Health. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-16756-0_5

[lonestarbattleship]

"Vice Adm. Jim Kilby, commander, Task Force 80 and deputy commander, U.S. Fleet Forces, gives the keynote address during the decommissioning ceremony of USS San Jacinto (CG-56). San Jacinto was decommissioned after more than 35 years of service. Modern U.S. Navy guilded-missile cruisers perform multiple mission including Air Warfare (AW), Undersea Warfare (USW), Naval Surface Fire Support (NSFS) and Surface Warfare (SUW) surface combatants capable of supporting carrier battle groups, amphibious forces or operating independently and as flagships of surface action groups."

Date: September 25, 2023

US Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Matthew Nass.

230915-N-TY639-1258

source

[leonhorn]

In 2054 Capitalism Dies in Space | In 20xx Scifi and Futurism by In 20xx Futurism When people in space are cut off from Earth an imbalance of owner vs. customers comes to a breaking point. The people in space believe no one is left alive on Earth. As far as they know, the (around) 12,000 in space is all that's left of humanity. Those living on and near the moon form Luna Nation. Space refugees scattered near Earth must find a way to insure a future for themselves and their children. AI that in many ways exceed human intelligence play a part in a skirmish for resources. What does it take to outsmart an AI that can make you think you're having a video call with a co-conspirator when it's the AI you are talking to? An finally, if AI can make a six part miniseries staring Drew Barrymore and Crispin Glover about using DNA banks to spawn a new human race, what parts would the two actors play? Here's a list of the technology mentioned in the story: 1. Orbital stations and space habitats 2. Micro-gravity adapting robots (e.g., vacuum bots) 3. Smart glass walls 4. Satellite cameras 5. AI assistants (e.g., Butler AI) 6. Augmented Reality (AR) glasses 7. Canal links (brain-computer interfaces) 8. Virtual Reality (VR) equipment 9. Life support systems for space 10. Automated mining and manufacturing in space 11. Fusion-powered spaceships 12. Electric thrusters for spacecraft 13. Legacy tracking systems for spacecraft 14. Ejection systems for spacecraft 15. Motion stabilizers for space suits 16. Emergency beacons in space suits 17. Artificial wombs 18. DNA banks 19. Brain scanning and digital copying technology 20. Robots capable of performing complex tasks 21. Centrifuges for simulating gravity 22. Terraforming technology (theoretical, for Venus) 23. Advanced medical automation 24. Custom cell cultivators 25. Organ printing technology 26. Stasis technology for long space journeys 27. Laser tight-beam communication 28. Rockets and missiles (mentioned as being disabled) 29. Closed-circuit TVs in spacecraft 30. Space construction vehicles (e.g., "spider") 31. Delivery cruisers 32. Research ships 33. Hologram-producing screens Many of the characters in this project appear in future episodes. Using storytelling to place you in a time period, this series takes you, year by year, into the future. If you like emerging tech, eco-tech, futurism, perma-culture, apocalyptic survival scenarios, and disruptive science, sit back and enjoy short stories that showcase my research into how the future may play out. This is Episode 56 of the podcast "In 20xx Scifi and Futurism." The companion site is https://in20xx.com where you can find a timeline of the future, descriptions of future development, and printed fiction. These are works of fiction. Characters and groups are made-up and influenced by current events but not reporting facts about people or groups in the real world. Copyright © Leon Horn 2024. All rights reserved. Episode link: https://ift.tt/k06LA7S (video made with https://ift.tt/pO3bjSh) via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tFJVPfQw2k

[deceptivemorals]

mbti type. ( summarize your results however you like. )

Executive (ESTJ-A)

Executives are excellent organizers, unsurpassed at managing things – or people.

Demand for such leadership is high in democratic societies, and forming no less than 11% of the population, it’s no wonder that many of America’s presidents have been Executives. Strong believers in the rule of law and authority that must be earned, Executive personalities lead by example, demonstrating dedication and purposeful honesty, and an utter rejection of laziness and cheating, especially in work. If anyone declares hard, manual work to be an excellent way to build character, it is Executives.

Executives are aware of their surroundings and live in a world of clear, verifiable facts – the surety of their knowledge means that even against heavy resistance, they stick to their principles and push an unclouded vision of what is and is not acceptable. Their opinions aren’t just empty talk either, as Executives are more than willing to dive into the most challenging projects, improving action plans and sorting details along the way, making even the most complicated tasks seem easy and approachable.

However, Executives don’t work alone, and they expect their reliability and work ethic to be reciprocated – people with this personality type meet their promises, and if partners or subordinates jeopardize them through incompetence or laziness, or worse still, dishonesty, they do not hesitate to show their wrath. This can earn them a reputation for inflexibility, a trait shared by all Sentinel personalities, but it’s not because Executives are arbitrarily stubborn, but because they truly believe that these values are what make society work.

The main challenge for Executives is to recognize that not everyone follows the same path or contributes in the same way. A true leader recognizes the strength of the individual, as well as that of the group, and helps bring those individuals’ ideas to the table. That way, Executives really do have all the facts, and are able to lead the charge in directions that work for everyone.

56% Extraverted: Extraverted individuals readily enjoy group activities and value social interaction. They tend to be outwardly enthusiastic and express their excitement.

51% Observant: Observant individuals are pragmatic and down-to-earth. They tend to have a strong focus on what is happening or very likely to happen.

61% Thinking: Thinking individuals focus on objectivity and rationality, often dismissing emotions in favor of logic. They tend to see effectiveness as more important than social harmony.

64% Judging: Judging individuals are decisive, thorough, and highly organized. They value clarity, predictability, and closure, preferring structure and planning to spontaneity.

89% Assertive: Assertive individuals are self-assured, even-tempered, and resistant to stress. They refuse to worry too much and tend to be self-confident when striving to achieve goals.

strengths:

Dedicated – Seeing things to completion borders on an ethical obligation for Executives. Tasks aren’t simply abandoned because they’ve become difficult or boring – people with the Executive personality type take them up when they are the right thing to do, and they will be finished so long as they remain the right thing to do.

Strong-willed – A strong will makes this dedication possible, and Executives don’t give up their beliefs because of simple opposition. Executives defend their ideas and principles relentlessly, and must be proven clearly and conclusively wrong for their stance to budge.

Direct and Honest – Executives trust facts far more than abstract ideas or opinions. Straightforward statements and information are king, and Executive personalities return the honesty (whether it’s wanted or not).

Loyal, Patient and Reliable – Executives work to exemplify truthfulness and reliability, considering stability and security very important. When Executives say they’ll do something, they keep their word, making them very responsible members of their families, companies and communities.

Enjoy Creating Order – Chaos makes things unpredictable, and unpredictable things can’t be trusted when they are needed most – with this in mind, Executives strive to create order and security in their environments by establishing rules, structures and clear roles.

Excellent Organizers – This commitment to truth and clear standards makes Executives capable and confident leaders. People with this personality type have no problem distributing tasks and responsibilities to others fairly and objectively, making them excellent administrators

weaknesses:

Inflexible and Stubborn – The problem with being so fixated on what works is that Executives too often dismiss what might work better. Everything is opinion until proven, and Executive personalities are reluctant to trust an opinion long enough for it to have that chance.

Uncomfortable with Unconventional Situations – Executives are strong adherents to tradition and when suddenly forced to try unvetted solutions, they become uncomfortable and stressed. New ideas suggest that their methods weren’t good enough, and abandoning what has always worked before in favor of something that may yet fail risks their image of reliability.

Judgmental – Executives have strong convictions about what is right, wrong, and socially acceptable. Executives’ compulsion to create order often extends to all things and everyone, ignoring the possibility that there are two right ways to get things done. Executives do not hesitate to let these “deviants” know what they think, considering it their duty to set things right.

Too Focused on Social Status – Executives take pride in the respect of their friends, colleagues and community and while difficult to admit, are very concerned with public opinion. Executives (especially Turbulent ones) can get so caught up in meeting others’ expectations that they fail to address their own needs.

Difficult to Relax – This need for respect fosters a need to maintain their dignity, which can make it difficult to cut loose and relax for risk of looking the fool, even in good fun.

Difficulty Expressing Emotion – This is all evidence of Executives’ greatest weakness: expressing emotions and feeling empathy. People with the Executive personality type get so caught up in the facts and most effective methods that they forget to think of what makes others happy, or of their sensitivity. A detour can be breathtakingly beautiful, a joy for the family, but Executives may only see the consequence of arriving at their destination an hour late, hurting their loved ones by rejecting the notion too harshly.

tagged by: @troubleah (thank you <;3) tagging: everyone who hasn't done this yet.

[usafphantom2]

Swedish Gripen pilot will go into space in early 2024

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/18/2023 - 13:00in Space

Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Wandt, a retired fighter pilot of the 211ª Fighter Wing of the Swedish Air Force, will go to the International Space Station in January 2024.

Marcus served for a long time in the F21 squadron and did his basic air combat training in the 211ª Flight Division, among other squadrons, confirmed the current commander of the F21 squadron, Peter Greberg.

"Marcus is a fantastic person and I find it difficult to find someone more suitable for the task than him. We, as a squad, wish him all the best in his mission in space," said Peter Greberg.

During his license in the squad, Marcus worked as a test pilot at Saab, even flying in Brazil when the first FAB Gripen E fighter arrived. In November 2022 he was selected from 22,500 candidates from around the world for the European Space Agency (ESA) astronaut group of 17 new astronauts.

During space flight, astronauts will stay about 10 days on the space station to perform a variety of scientific experiments that can only be performed in the absence of gravity. The complex task requires extensive preparation. Marcus Wandt has already started his training, which takes place in training centers in Europe and the USA.

The Swedish Space Agency is currently working, in close cooperation with ESA, on the preparation of a detailed research program and the preparation of the experiments that the Swedish astronaut will carry out on the space station.

The date is currently set for January 10, but can be adjusted. The trip starts from the classic Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Space X and its Falcon 9 rocket with the associated Dragon capsule that will transport the crew that will include Marcus to the space station.

Tags: ESA - European Space Agency/European Space AgencySpaceFlygvapnet - Swedish Air ForceISS - International Space Station / International Space Station

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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