#it takes me like 30-60 minutes to answer asks

[erigold13261]

How did Carna and Maragold realize they were NB as young children? Also I love how they use fae and they as main pronouns. Especially fae/faer. Unhinged pink robot (affectionate). Also, what would’ve they been like as 1010 bots? I’m curious

Thank you! Glad you like the two using non-standard pronouns as their mains! (You are totally right about Carna being unhinged in an affectionate way lol)

I like the idea that when Neon J made Carna's new body he lessened the effect of the "girl" code that fae had. Same with Dew and the "boy" code that they had.

When Neon made Maragold's body though, he wasn't thinking of that as Purl hadn't brought up the whole gender situation at the time, only to keep Maragold a child.

Either way though, the two were just copying older 1010 at first. Maragold looked up to Purl a lot and decided that they wanted to be nonbinary just like Purl. And for the most part it does actually feel good and nice to Maragold to have they/them pronouns used on them.

Though I will say that talking with Yinu and seeing how she feels like a girl (with a human experience) compared to how Maragold felt like a girl (with a robot experience) was the INITIAL factor in Maragold thinking they aren't a girl.

So their robotic experience does correlate a lot with their gender experience/expression. I do honestly think Maragold might change or add on to their identity as they grow older and actually figure out what they truly feel like. But for now they are sticking with the non-binary label as they feel it best fits them right now.

Carna on the other hand has always been a bit on the weird and reckless side of things. Always getting into trouble with Martha and not conforming in any way shape or form (which caused a lot of problems for some of the other dolls at the time).

I would say that Carna mainly wanted to be different and wanted to mess with people and chose some weird pronouns to use for fun. Only to realize people would actually use them for faer because they were listening to Carna.

It was probably the first real time someone listened to Carna and actually tried to make faer feel comfortable and seen. It was weird but also really nice. Carna kept changing pronouns over and over, like weekly there would be a different set just to see what fae could get away with but also with what would feel right.

Fae really, REALLY did not want to go back to using she/her pronouns. It made faer anxious and feel weird, which fae hated so much. Once fae found fae/faer pronouns though, and used them for a week, fae didn't change them. Which came as a surprise to the people around faer as they were expecting another weekly change, only for these pronouns to have stuck.

I don't think Carna will change faer pronouns for a while, but faer might add more later on. I don't actually have a label for Carna, as I think fae would see the non-binary colors as ugly or something and reject the label just because of that. But fae will probably come around and actually use the non-binary label (maybe agender) when fae gets older.

And for Dew, even with his "boy" code limited, he still felt like he should go by he/him pronouns. He didn't feel like he "earned" a right to use other pronouns since he wasn't around as long as the rest of 1010 were to have grown and figured himself out.

However, once they met up with the Sayu Crew and Club, and saw how the mermaids were still pretty new and all using different kinds of pronouns already made them start to use he/they pronouns and feel better about themself.

Putting the "what if they were 1010s" thought under a read more because I don't have a clear answer and will be rambling a bit

As for them as 1010s? Hmmm, I'm not entirely sure. Because for them to have been 1010's they would have had to not been broken/lost along with the fact they most likely would have had a warbot code mixed into their doll code.

Like Dew is a diving bot mixed with the doll code and the first initial 1010 code. I'd have to think of other warbot classes/jobs that Pink and Orange would have been mixed with to create their 1010 versions, who would also have different names as Neon J would have named them instead of them naming themselves (I like to think the main 5 1010 names were names Neon J wanted to name his children, but he never gave them names at first, he waited for them to ask for names. Which is why Dew was able to name themself).

So yeah, depending on what kind of warbot they got mixed with would change what their personality would be like.

Right now all I can think of is a chef/cook warbot, or maybe a driver warbot (one that the captain would command to drive the ship when they need to step away). There would probably one that worked with torpedos, or a job for just working maintenance on other warbots/engines.

There also warbots that were not even on battleships that Neon could have chosen from. Though usually Neon actually would have taken defective robots to try and fix or just save from being scrapped. Honestly that's probably why 1010 has so many problems was because they were a combination of abused dolls, traumatized soldiers, and defective warbots all mixed together and forced to be musical idols that feed off of attention of others (attention they never had before: the good kind).

I would say that if 1010 came out with all 8 members (White, Blue, Red, Yellow, Green, Purple, Orange, and Pink) then they would still be the kind of flirty K-Pop BOY band that the original 1010 were in the canon game (yes Neon would have changed ALL their genders to male the same way he did to Purl and Haym).

The original 5 1010 would end up like they did later on, but I can't think of what Purple, Orange and Pink would turn out into. I doubt Orange would be as trusting of people, and Pink would definitely be more mean at times....

Actually, now that I think about it, 1010 wouldn't be entirely the same! Because there is a chance that Neon would have changed their roles up! White would still be the leader, but I can see Blue turning into the "older brother" type instead of just the "cool guy" role. Purple probably would have turned into the "cool guy" while Pink would have been the "funny one" and Green turned into a like laid back guy (not the same as cool, but like probably more like a stoner but without the implications of drugs if that makes any sense).

I can also see Pink as just being the "youngest" of the group. Yellow would probably be turned into the "loud one" or like the main dancer/visual of the group while Orange turns into the "innocent" one.

Once I think of what warbots Pink and Orange would have been mixed with I could give a better prediction of how they would have turned out once they gained full sentience as 1010s.

I can give one for Dew though. He was supposed to be the "youngest" one in the group when it was just the 6 1010 together. Him, Haym, and Eloni were supposed to be the more comedic part of 1010, with Zimelu, Dew, and Eloni being the troublesome part of the band. Purl and Rin would always be the more responsible ones of the band but also would help set up jokes or "protect" Haym and Dew from the Zimelu and Eloni's jokes/pranks. (All this based off of the roles they were given and what they were initially supposed to behave like, Haym later on becomes the more jokey/mischievous one as time goes on with the OG 1010).

With this being said, I would say that Dew (or whatever his name would have ended up being), would have turned out a lot less anxious and a lot more social. He'd be more confident in his abilities and actually be more of a sports oriented robot. Especially with swimming and other water-related activities.

He and Purl would not be as close as they are in the OG timeline. He'd be a lot more close with Zimelu and Haym. If anything he'd probably be a bit more of a bully but in a teasey kind of way, not a malicious kind of way (though he would try to get Purl soaked with water a bunch, making Purl kinda hate/resent him the same way they do Rin).

I think Dew/Purple would stick with he/him pronouns and not go into using they/them. He MIGHT use it/its but only online in a text kind of way, he wouldn't want people verbally using it/its pronouns on him. He'd identify as cis.

Also, he and Haru would never become a couple because by the time Haru is made he would be around 25 years old and sea would be 16/17. Instead he'd try to get a surfer girlfriend (or boyfriend honestly) that was his age/a bit older than him.

That's all I have right now honestly. Sorry I couldn't give more insight on Carna and Maragold's 1010 status. I literally never thought of what they would be as 1010s before now lol. Other than like, one drawing I made of Maragold looking like a standard 1010.

[atticrissfinch]

Santa Claus is Coming: An All You Wanna Do Christmas Special 🎅🎄 (dark!joel miller x reader) (18+)

pairing: VERYdark!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When you come home for Christmas Break after your first semester of college, your father throws his annual Christmas party…with none of the than Joel playing Santa Claus. CAUTION: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Unambiguous noncon warning.Warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] explicit noncon, dark!creeper!neighbor!joel, girthy age gap (Joel is anywhere from 50-60, reader is 18), fetishization of new-adulthood (Joel gets off on reader being 18), reader celebrates Christmas, some angst with dad, underage drinking (reader), panty sniffing, makeshift gag, one (1) ass smack, struggling, unprotected piv, derogatory terms (slut, whore, etc), joel fucks you in a santa costume 🎅 word count: ~4K | ao3a/n: thank you everyone for your support of this series! here's a super cute, fluffy little special for you <3 (disclaimer: that's a joke, this is nowhere near cute or fluffy). again, i do not support SA of any kind in reality, respect people’s preferences, and protect your peace, loves 💖 Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! (sorry about this fucked link formatting??? i'm fistfighting with tumblr over it, trust.)

Your first semester is a slog. 

You’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be. From what everyone else has said, the first couple semesters of college are meant to be exploratory, trying courses on and seeing what fits. And you suppose you did that. You took on a smattering of GenEds and a couple of intro courses for History and English, but dropped Intro to Psych after the first class. 

One thing you were definitely not prepared for was analyzing your psychological state in any capacity. When you saw the syllabus, you’d had a minor panic attack and had to escape out the back of the lecture hall and enact one of the breathing exercises you’d adopted to cope since this summer. Since him. 

You’ve done your damndest to drown him out. Had a lot of meaningless sex with boys decidedly your age, no more than a year or two older. And you’ve developed a bad habit of switching your brain off the second a man unzips his pants. You let them fuck you, most of them lasting minutes at best, and send them on their way. It doesn’t make practical sense, but you’d come to the conclusion that the more cocks you take, the less impact he has on you. It’s simple fractions, percentages, whatever. He goes from 50% of your past sexual experience to 40% to 30%…You want to dilute him until he’s nothing but a drop in your ocean. 

By the time Christmas break comes around, you’ve lost track of your body count. After each encounter, you just ask, “Do I still remember what he feels like inside me?”

And if the answer is yes, and it always is, you're fine with the number rising.

You feel jaded at the age of 18. One semester of college under your belt, countless men under your skirt, and the persistent circles under your eyes that no concealer has ever fully concealed. 

Your father is all smiles and hugs when he meets you at the airport, squeezing the breath from your lungs with an emphatic, “I missed you so much, sweetie bird.” 

He drives you home, and he is standing on his porch, cup of coffee in hand, leering at your father’s car as it pulls into the drive. The overpriced airport Cinnabon swirls around in your stomach and a tingle starts up between your legs. Not a good one.  

“Our beautiful girl’s finally home!” Your dad calls out as he exits the car. 

Our. You might actually vomit. 

Joel nods with his coffee mug in a small salute, eyes fixed on you. “Sight for sore eyes, darlin’,” He calls back. 

You retreat into the house without another word, hauling your bag with you straight through the front door. You throw down your stuff on your bedroom floor, and you can’t stop staring at your bed. You’ve spent thousands of nights in that bed. Thousands of days. 

It took one afternoon for him to rob you of the comfort of its springs and sheets. And though those sheets have been changed, the comforter replaced, the position of it moved, that’s still one of the places it happened. But you refuse to think about it now. 

Your father calls down for you, probably already prepping the ingredients for Christmas cookies, and you let him fade into the background again. 

-

You pick up a gig as an elf for the local Mall Santa. You don’t love having free time anymore. It gives you too much space to think. It’s something to do in the afternoons and evenings. Your dad lamented the decision, all but begging you to spend your time off with him while you’re home, but you come up with some bullshit excuse about your close friend hitting you up and desperately pleading for your help so she wouldn’t have to deal with all the tiny menaces on their way to see Santa alone. You know your bleeding heart father would never fault you for helping out a friend in need, so he lets it slide. But there’s no friend. Just another stranger in a similar outfit. 

However, he is suitably disappointed when you have to work late on the night of his annual Christmas party. You do what you can to help him decorate, prepare refreshments, all that can be done before you have to leave. 

“Please try to sneak out early, sweetie bird. Party ain’t the same without you.”

You promise you’ll try as you tug on your green elf tunic over your red and white striped leggings and head out the door. 

—

You’re fucking exhausted by the time you’re dismissed for the night, several hours corralling children, lifting them on and off of Santa’s lap, listening to them scream at the top of their lungs and throw tantrums on the fluffy snow-inspired batting surrounding Santa’s throne. 

You clamber through the front door, already hearing the shrill, incessant Christmas music on the other side and the hubbub of half the neighborhood inside. You lean back against the wood, take in all the bodies glimmering in red, green, gold, and silver infiltrating your childhood home. You can spy a mass of fuzzy red and white in the living room, and you have the urge to bang your head against the wall at the sight of another Santa. 

You’re surprised your father was able to find a replacement. Last you’d heard, Mr. Grenning, the dutiful elderly gentleman who had played Santa at every single one of your father’s parties as far back as you can remember, had passed away this Fall. He was hunting to find someone else to fulfill the role. You’re happy that he was able to find someone. You know he’d never be able to forgive himself if he’d gone one whole year without a Santa. 

You continue to scan the party, searching for any sign of greying brown curls, salt and pepper scruff, or a potbelly. You’re relieved when none of those qualifiers manifest in the person you’re dreading. Maybe he found other plans.

“Hey, my little elf!” Your father bellows, holding his arm out for you as he enters the foyer and pulling you into a hug. “Glad you could make it. You almost missed Santa!”

“‘M too old for Santa, dad,” You mumble, pressed into his chest. “I really just wanna go lie down.”

“But you always sit on Santa’s lap! It’s so cute!”

“I’m in college, dad! I cannot sit on an old man’s lap anymore without it being fucking weird!”

“Hey, language, sweetie,” He admonishes with drawn brows. “And no one will think it’s weird! It’s just a little fun. And you love Joel!”

Your head whips to look at your dad. “Joel?”

“Yeah, Joel, weirdo. You know I was scramblin’ to find someone after Doug passed away, rest in peace,” He says, quickly forming the points of the cross on his person. “And Joel was so generous, said he might as well use his old age for good,” He chuckles. 

You feel like the room shifts, warps in your periphery as your eyes fixate on the blob of red and white in the other room, a child perched on his lap looking bashful and nervous, and a gloved finger booping her tiny nose. 

You want to scream at her to run. As far away as she can. 

“Go on, I think she’s the last one,” Your dad nudges you forward. “For me? Please? And then I’ll never make you do it again. Just one last time.”

His eyes look so sad, glimmering with the past 18 years you’ve had together, most of them just the two of you against the world. And you can’t hold his ignorance against him. He would have no way of knowing what Joel has done to you. This is your burden to bear. You never want to see hurt in this man’s eyes. 

So you tread forward on leaden feet. 

The moment Joel sees you, his eyes flicker. The corner of his mouth turns up underneath that synthetic beard, and he mutters a dismissal to the small girl on his lap as she slides off. 

“Well, would ya look-y here. Seems one of Santa’s little helpers hitched a ride from the North Pole.”

A couple dozen heads turn in your direction, and light laughter fills the air at Joel’s remark, several of your neighbors giving you little side hugs and shoulder pats in greeting, welcoming you home for the holiday with glistening smiles. 

Joel’s eyes don’t leave yours as he holds out a gloved hand. “Why don’t you come on up onto Santa’s lap. Even elves deserve presents, right?”

“Right!” A tiny voice calls from somewhere on your right, somebody’s child filled with that pure Christmas spirit that you feel severely lacking in this year. 

You swallow and inch forward, almost flinching as you take his hand and try to get away with just slightly leaning your ass back against the tip of his knee in lieu of actually sitting on him. But his determined hands grip your hips and pull you up until you’re straddling his leg and pressed up against his back and…

Fuck. 

You can feel him. 

You can feel him. 

Even through the gaudy red trousers, even through the bulk of his fuzzy coat. You feel it on your asscheek through your leggings. 

He’s already hard. 

You swallow again at the nausea circling in your belly, doing your best to hide the horror on your face. The way your hands start to shake at his fingers on your hips. 

“What do you want for Christmas, little girl?” 

Your lower lip trembles the barest amount, but you clear your throat. “Uh…money for Elf College maybe?” You awkwardly say in a half-hearted attempt at a joke, and the adults in the room all give courteous laughs. 

They look like caricatures. Their features morphing on their faces, their minds so fucking oblivious to the silent screaming behind your eyes. 

And then there’s Joel’s laugh. It sounds…pitying. And entirely too close to your ear. Too close to your face. And that wretched fucking smell hits you in the face, like it always does. Stale beer. Pine soap. Sweat. 

You try to slide forward, but his hands hold fast. 

“Santa’s got a special present in his big sack for you, sweetheart,” He mutters low in your ear. “Bet you can already feel what it is through the wrappin’.”

You glance around frantically, and no one seems to indicate that anything is amiss. 

You clear your throat again and all but throw yourself off his lap with a mumbled, “Thank you, Santa,” and hurry off into the crowd of people, not looking back to see his reaction. 

You find yourself in the kitchen, clutching at the edge of the counter in front of the punch bowl, trying to level out your breathing. 

“Thanks for doin’ that for me, sweetie,” You hear your dad say as he loops an arm around your shoulder, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “You know it’s gettin’ harder on me. You gettin’ older. Kinda feels like you’re slippin’ through my fingers. Like I’m tryin’ to grip sand.”

You nod, eyes fixed on the lemon slices swirling in the scarlet punch. 

“I know you miss your mom, sweetie bird. I miss her too. But I’m still here. And I don’t wanna lose you along with her.”

Your eyes close as you take a deep breath before looking up at him. This man who has done nothing but love you, care for you, show you exactly how a man should be. And a man who, simultaneously, is so oblivious to your own suffering. 

That’s your own fault. Not his, you remind yourself. 

“You won’t lose me, dad. May not be able to grip the sand, but you can never seem to get rid of every last bit of it, right? Always some grains sticking around.”

“Reckon you’re right,” He agrees with a broad smile, planting a kiss on your head and leaving you be to pour yourself a drink. Before he exits the kitchen, he holds a finger up at you and insists, “Just punch, sweetie bird. I don’t know what you’ve been gettin’ up to at that school, but you drink punch in this house.”

You roll your eyes and ladle out the beverage into your festive green solo cup. Your eyes catch on the bottle of vodka nestled against the backsplash. You check the doorway, and it’s clear. 

“Just punch” isn’t gonna do shit for you tonight. 

You’ve already twisted the cap back onto the bottle and slipped out the sliding door to the back patio by the time someone else meanders into the kitchen. 

It’s chilly, but not aggressively so. Your long, striped sleeves do a decent job stemming the cold as you nurse your spiked punch and rest your forearms against the wooden patio railing, staring up at the overcast winter gloom, only a few stars peeking out. 

The phantom press of Joel’s cock against your ass has you sipping faster, and your heavy pour has your brain beginning to feel about as cloudy as the sky. You’re tapping out the dregs into your mouth until you come up dry, sighing down into the empty cup. 

There are a few more people milling about the kitchen as you toss the cup in the trash and make your way through the living room, no red-and-white abomination plaguing the space any longer, and you’re hopeful that Joel just went the fuck home to change. 

You hobble up the stairs and reach your room, pushing the door open and flinging it closed behind you. 

And you freeze. 

Leaning against your long, white, daisy-adorned dresser in all his fuzzy red-with-white-trim rancor, the dirty panties you’d tossed in the hamper yesterday pressed to his nose with a gloved hand, his scraggly fake beard tucked under his chin. 

And his other white silken-encased hand jacking at his thick, veiny cock hanging out of the red velvet waistband of his pants. 

Your materialization into your own room doesn’t seem to phase him, other than his attention snapping over to you, staring into your eyes as he inhales your concentrated scent and jacks at his girth. 

Your hand searches behind you blindly for your doorknob, until he rings out a threatening, “Don’t.”

Your hand shakes as you finally wrap around the brass, and he throws himself toward you, caging you in against the unforgiving surface of the door. His hand snakes around your wrist and tightens more and more until you release the handle with a defeated whimper. You hear him click the lock before bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. 

“‘S’matter, sweetheart? Ain’t happy to see Santa? You been that naughty?”

“Please let me go, Joel. Please don’t do this again,” You whisper mousily, dread dropping like an anvil in your stomach. 

“Smell so good, sweetheart,” He croons, bringing your own used undergarments up to your nose. “Sniff ‘em. Get a good whiff of what you did to these slutty panties while you were thinkin’ of me.”

You wrinkle your nose, turning away from the tang of your dried fluids. “Wasn’t thinking about you. I never fucking think about you. I stopped believing in Santa a long fucking time ago, old man.”

“Now I know that’s a fuckin’ lie. You think about me every goddamn day of your life. And I made damn sure’a that,” Joel growls out, his free hand gliding down your arm until he’s cradling the back of your hand. He guides you slowly toward his crotch, and you whimper as he uses his own fingers to curl yours around his hard cock. 

You’ve never felt it in your hand like this. How fucking huge he is. And he’s forced this thing inside you twice. You feel your core throb involuntarily at the swell of a cock in your hand from your extensive experiences with it this past semester, regardless of who’s attached to it. 

“Stroke it, sweetheart. Show me how much you missed me,” He spills into your ear. His hand on yours starts to move up and down his length, and you feel him slide warm and thick under your palm. He groans loudly in your ear as you allow his actions to become yours, letting out a small sob. 

“I’ll scream,” You warn, your eyes falling closed and your head falling against the door, tears gliding off your eyelashes and down your cheeks. 

“No you won’t,” He patronizes, his hips gradually thrusting into your shared grip. 

“Yes, I will,” You whisper unsteadily. 

“You scream,” He starts, the tip of his nose skimming the shell of your ear, little grunts and moans intermingling with his words as he speaks, “And I might just find myself on your campus one day. Pick my way into your little dorm room. And you know what I’d really love to do?”

You just push out another sob as the head of his cock repeatedly brushes your cotton leggings with his precome. 

“I think I’ll shove your cute little face into your little twin-sized bed and fuck your puckered little asshole. Whaddya think about that?”

Ice-cold dread shoots through you at him threatening you with that, just like he had last time. The fact that he has never been near you on campus has given you at least a modicum of solace that he’s not anywhere near you. That he can’t get you there. You can’t fathom the reality of having to worry about him tracking you down. Of him taking one of the only safe places you have left. And the only unsullied hole you have left. 

“Please don’t,” You sniffle, “I can’t…”

“Then you’ll stay fuckin’ quiet, won’t you?”

You nod against the door, flexing your hand around his cock and making him let out a raspy moan. “Turn around.”

He allows you to drop your hold around his cock as he rotates you. You press both palms into the door, willing someone to hear your unvoiced pleas as Joel tugs back on your hips to bend you over more for him. 

But you know no one ever goes upstairs at these parties with your father’s strict instructions against it. Not unless the bathroom is full. 

You’re alone. Again. 

Meaty fingers dive under your tunic and tuck into the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down unceremoniously and pulling a moan from Joel when he sees your ass jiggle with the sharp movement. 

“Goddamn. Missed this young little ass,” He comments with a heavy smack to your ass, jolting you forward.

Joel doesn’t waste much time, clearly cognizant of the hoard of people just down the stairs. The familiar heft of his cock slips along your folds and hitches on your entrance, and you barely have time to brace yourself before he’s shoving his way inside you. 

You accidentally let out a yelp and Joel slaps a gargantuan gloved hand over your mouth, crowding the top half of you into the door, the tendrils of his fake beard tickling at your neck. “Shut the fuck up,” He growls, already withdrawing his hips to fuck back into your increasing wetness. “Love to hear your voice any other time, but you shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for ya.”

You nod in his grip, feeling your hot breath sink wetly into the silky glove, but his hand stays put as he begins to thrust into you in earnest, doing a pisspoor job of silencing his own grunts in the process. 

You wistfully hope that someone hears the brutish noises escaping him as he violates you again and again and again. And your pussy takes it, like it’s growing accustomed to it. Hot rivulets flow from your eyes, mingling with the snot that’s pooling, sinking into the fibers enrobing his hand as he muffles your sounds. 

“Gettin’ used to it now, ain’t ya?” He chuckles darkly in your ear, his hips snapping against your ass as he keeps feeding you his massive length against your will, the soft material of his garb rubbing unsettlingly against the backs of your thighs and your back. “Knew ya would. Your little pussy recognizes me, don’t she?”

He’s right, but you wish he wouldn’t say it. Your pussy does seem to have a memory. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be bringing a new man into your bed every other night, hoping to forget. And yet, it still opened right up for him when he pressed up against you. You’re being betrayed by your own body again, and the desire to withdraw from your own skin only escalates with each thrust of his cock inside you. 

“Yeah, I know she likes it,” He insists, sliding a hand down to caress the stretch of your entrance around his shaft. “Don’t get cock like this up at that fancy school of yours, that’s for fuckin’ sure.”

You sob into his hand, and he curses, releasing your mouth for a moment until you feel a wad of cotton fabric at your lips, being shoved between your teeth as a gag. 

“Taste that whore cunt while you take my cock, sweetheart,” He orders, and it registers that he just gagged you with your used panties. You keen against the rapidly soaking underwear and both of his hands bruise at your hips, holding you steady for the unrelenting pound of his cock. 

You practically scream around the fabric, woefully lost to the world as it’s drowned out by the din of conversation and the eerie, sickly cheerful jubilee of Santa Claus is Coming to Town blaring on the speakers downstairs. 

“You hear that, darlin’?” He grunts out with a hint of a laugh. “Even the music knows what’s ’bout to happen. Santa’s comin’, baby. Fuck, I’m—” He grunts as he wrenches himself out of you just in time, tilting the head of his cock down to shoot his load into the gusset of the panties still situated halfway down your thighs. 

You whine against your gag, tormented by the grating song suddenly overwhelming your ears along with Joel’s grunts of release. He pants against your skin, propping himself with a hand against the door, slapping his spent cock against the exposed small of your back. 

“Still tight as the first time,” He compliments you in a sick attempt at praise. “Must not be takin’ much dick up there after all. ‘Least not as big as me,” He brags with a laugh. 

He tugs up your leggings and panties in one go, and a tiny squeak sounds from your throat as you feel the cool, slimy evidence of his orgasm smush up into your core. His hand slides around your waist to sneak between your legs and rub his fingers against the seat of your panties through your leggings, feeling the proof of his conquest seep through the landscape of your fucked pussy. 

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. That ain’t gonna knock you up,” He assures, massaging your cum-slick lips with his fingers and pinching your clit through your clothes. “Wouldn’t wanna stretch out that tight young cunt by pushin’ out my baby. Nah, just want you to have a little reminder of me.”

Another wave of nausea hits you at the cold, wet slip of his semen in your folds, and you have to breathe in and out through your nose in measured intervals with the panty-gag still in place. You don’t know why you haven’t spit it out quite yet. 

“Thanks for bein’ Santa’s Little Helper this year, darlin’,” He coos in your ear as he starts to strip himself out of his costume. 

You’re frozen against the door as you hear him unzip a bag and rifle through it, followed by rustling and minor grunts. After several minutes, you feel his hand at your lower back, and the red and white of his silhouette has been replaced by denim and a green flannel. 

Joel’s grip nudges you back from the safety of the door so he can grab the knob himself this time, a black duffle bag slung over his back. You stumble backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you sink down. 

Joel pokes his head out to check if the coast is clear, and then glances back at you over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” He says with a wink, and slips out of your room, securing the door closed after him. 

RE: TAGLIST - I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Rev. Jerry Falwell

Featuring Rev. Jerry Falwell

Back in 1989, I was a student at Liberty University and in the office of the University president, Rev. Jerry Falwell for violating the school's personal ethics code. I got caught blowing a guy and you know who Rev. Falwell was, you know I was in trouble. Falwell was a so called champion of righteousness, waging a crusade against homosexuality so my time at Liberty was over.

With that being said, I couldn't help but admirer him. Your typical older white male in his late 50s or early 60s. He had greying hair. Not too bad, he had a cute quality to him. And if I was going out, I might as well go big and have some fun with him. I always had a thing for older guys.

I apologized, slowly licked my lips asked, "Is there something I can do to make up for the infraction?"

His face turned red and just shook his head as if there was nothing I could do. I bet he never had a man make a pass at him. His eyes quickly did a once over on me, and bingo. I do believe the good doctor here might have a thing for little ol' me.

We sat there for an awkward minute as he had his internal struggle whether to accept my proposal for sex or not. So I chose to take things to the next level as I got up and walked over to a wall with his accolades. He turned slightly in his chair, not knowing what to do next and I saw his bulge. I had him right where I wanted him I thought as I walked over to a bookcase by his desk and picked up a picture of him and who I assumed was his wife. She seemed like a hard nosed bitch.

"Is this your wife Rev. Falwell," I asked.

"Yes, we've been married for 30 years." He answered. Ah, so he's been debating if he should cheat on his wife with a young piece of ass like me.

"She seems a bit intense, no?" I asked. He chuckled and almost immediately tried to hide it. I struck a nerve. I bet she was a prude with being only for procreating. And definitely no blow-jobs.

"Does she take good care of you, Rev. Falwell?" I gently asked, placing the picture back.

He froze so I took a small step towards him, but his lower lip seem to quiver a bit. As if words were trying to be formed, but my now sexual presence was suffocating him. I took another step forward and fixed his collar of his shirt. I looked into his eyes and whispered, "Rev. Falwell, does she suck your cock every night and morning? Does she make you feel good?"

I slowly shook his head no. I smiled meekly before kneeling in front of him. I licked my lips and said, "Rev. Falwell, I need another chance. Can't you find it in your heart to give me just one more chance."

With his lips still quivering, he nodded yes as I slid my hands up and down his legs. I put on my most sincere face and thanked him while my hands slid up his body and down his legs again. On the next pass I unbuckled his belt so I could undo his pants. I slid them down and was rewarded with a pretty decent cock. It was about 7 inches, thick, veiny and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip as he shuddered in pleasure. I took in his musky smell and it felt so erotic. Then I slipped my lips over his manhood and went to work.

Rev. Falwell gripped the arms of his leather chair as I I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down. His salty precum hit my tongue and I looked up at him. His glazed over eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him.

I continued my oral assault on him as I sucked him off for everything he was worth. He built enough courage to lay a hand on my shoulder and then on my head as my hands slipped under his ass so I could take him deeper. I let his cock hit the back of my throat a couple times to make that sound porn stars make in the videos. I was feeling real slutty as I released his cock from my mouth with a gasp and I jerked him off so I could catch my breathe.

"You're wife doesn't suck your cock like this does she." I asked, looking directly at him. He shook his head no as I slapped his cock against my lips and then my tongue.

Wanting to milk this old bastard and leave him wanting more, I was back to sucking and stroking his thick cock. My head bobbed as his moans got louder and louder. His hands gripped my shoulders as if he wanted me to stop but I wanted it. I wanted his cum. I wanted his satisfaction. He thrusted his hip as he could no longer hold it in anymore. With a last suck, his cock popped out of my mouth for the last time and he shot all over my face as I furiously jerked him off.

His cum sprayed all over my face and I could feel it slowly seep down it. Luckily it looked like he got everything by my eyes. I slowly opened them as I watched him panting as if he'd just ran a marathon. I licked my cum covered lips and tasted him before quickly cleaning all the cum off my face, but didn’t swallow it. Instead I moved quickly up and on top of Jerry until my face was over his. Rev. Falwell opened his mouth to say something and I started French kissing him with my mouth full of the old man’s cum.

Looking into his clear blue eyes, I saw a look of shock. Then he was surprisingly kissing me back. His tongue was every where inside my mouth, angry and as brutal as he could make it. I loved. As I wrapped my tongue around his and sucked, I could feel him swallowing his own cum as he sucked it out of my mouth.

Suddenly I felt his hand grasp my balls. I sucked in air as he tighten his grip on my tender testicles. Then as I started jerking and thrashing from the pain of his iron grip on my balls as we kissed like I had never before kissed someone. I thought he was going to rip my balls off as he squeezed and pulled on them. But a part of me love it.

When we finally broke our embrace, Jerry let go of my balls. And the moment he did that, I undid my pants and jerked them down along with my boxer shorts. My fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing. The old man's eyes got big as he looked at my thick dick against his mouth. I didn’t think Rev. Falwell would open his mouth, but then I guess he was so horned up he didn’t know what he was doing. The next thing I knew Rev. Falwell was sucking my dick.

I felt wonderful. But even better to look down at Rev. Jerry Falwell, the fundamentalist preacher who founded the Moral Majority while he had my dick in his mouth. I got so excited that I shot off. He gagged and tried to spit my dick out but I forced my dick in him, and made him swallow the entire load before pulling it out.

Needless to say, I wasn't kicked out of school that day.

[alicedash2]

Portgas D. Ace x YN who loves cats!

-OOOH! A Cat Cafe! - YN's eyes light up more than a galaxy

- cats cats cats cats! - YN runs to the cafeteria

-Good morning, how can I help you?- Answers the question, she was wearing a beautiful maid dress, only with cat decorations

-cats!-YN says, her face is bright pink

- that's 80 Berries per person and per hour! - says the attendant, YN checks his pockets but realizes he doesn't have a coin, the ship is on the coast, YN took the whole day to find this cafe, so, YN thinks about... using someone. ..

°••°•°

- here?- Ace asked with his face a little disappointed

-yes!- YN happily agrees

-I'm not going in, I want food, not coffee! You lied to me!- Ace spoke with a look of doubt

-And why don't you go alone?- Ace asked

-I tried but I'm out of money, I can't walk all day to the ship and back, it's going to be closed, and we'll have to leave tomorrow!-

- And if I give you the money?- Ace asked

- I don't want to go alone, let's go! -

- I am not going! And besides, you lied to me!- Ace pointed a finger at YN's face

-ah... It was for a necessary cause! - YN approached Ace even more

- What cause?!- Ace asks

- the money you give, in addition to making me happy, will still be used to buy food for the kittens! Come on, there's a lot of cute cat in there! - YN starts jumping up and down while pleading with Ace

Ace makes a thoughtful face

- have food?- Ace asks

- as it is a cafeteria, it must have cakes, sweets... And coffee! - YN spoke, with a glimmer of hope

- Come on, Ace, please! Please! - YN said while holding Ace's arm tightly

- What are you doing, YN?!

- I won't let you go until you come with me!- YN held on tighter

- but, YN, they can't see me there! -Ace blushes imagining the embarrassing situation if his friends saw him in a cat cafe

- but I'll be around! They will notice- YN said while letting go of Ace

- please! Only 1 hour!- YN tried to convince Ace

-1 hour?!- Ace asked with an indignant face

- 30 minutes!- YN spoke

- 25 minutes! - Ace spoke

- 25?!- YN said angrily

- it's that or nothing! It's something a pirate shouldn't get into! Ace crossed his arms.

- Alright, let's go!- YN said with a smile

°•••°•°•°

- per couple it's 60 berries an hour, we're on a Valentine's Day sale- the attendant said

"couple" Ace think blushed

-eh...okay, here, I'll only want 25 minutes- Ace said

- so it's 25 berries - The Attendant said, Ace asks for a simple cake while YN had fun with the felines

- Ace, isn't he cute? He doesn't have a tail, and that one has two-colored eyes!- YN had a wide smile, her face red and bright

seriously, you are unbelievable! - Ace said with a slight smile on his face, enjoying their silliest laughs by just seeing cats lying down and some playing

- Ace, this one looks like Pops! - YN held a big and very hairy white cat, with features of an old man, blue eyes and big whiskers

- true! Looks like it!- Ace said laughing

- wanted to take them all to the Ship! But Pops wouldn't let it!- YN spoke with a sad face

- thank goodness, cats are a lot of work and dirt!- Ace said finishing eating

- you don't know anything about cats!- YN pouted to Ace

°•°•°

While YN was distracted in her world full of cats, Ace extended the time by another 25 minutes, he wanted to see more of how YN was having fun, obviously careful not to be discovered.

- Ace! It's been over 25 minutes - YN said turning to Ace

-ah- Ace, who was sleeping wakes up

- Hi?- Ace looked at YN

-let's go!- YN spoke

- I paid more, you can stay there, I'll take a nap, then you wake me up- Ace said

YN looked around, YN starts playing with the cats again

Ace just sleep again

°•°°

- Miss, your schedule is over! Thank you for coming to our cafe!- Said the Attendant

- Thank you, I really liked it! Thank you!- YN said with a silly smile, YN wakes up Ace and they leave

- I really hope you had fun, I didn't have fun at all! - Ace said with a serious and sarcastic smile.

- you lie very badly! -YN said smiling

- Thanks, Ace! I had so much fun! - YN hugs Ace tightly, Ace reciprocates

- what I don't do for you?- Ace smiled blushing

- I'll give you back the money when we get on the ship! - said YN

- it is not necessary! I decided to pay more, keep it as a gift - Ace kisses YN's face, making her cheeks red

-thanks!- YN said shyly, their hearts skipping a beat

°•°•°

- Ace!- Vista approached, it's the next day and the crew is ready to leave

- Hi, Vista!- Ace greeted

- I've wanted to talk to you about this for a while - Vista said, sitting down next to Ace, he approaches Ace's ear and says

- how was the meeting with YN? Did she kiss you? Or was there something else?- - Ace nods into the distance.

- stop this! Be quiet!- Ace said red

- what? Ace had a date?! - The rest of the crew gathered around Ace, asking questions

-TO STOP! I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING!- Ace turned redder

- tell us, Ace! - the crew asked for more and more

- I DON'T KNOW! Ask YN! - Ace scream, while everyone went to YN, Ace held his breath

Finally, YN had to explain everything, it wasn't exactly a date, YN just asked Ace to pay and stay together with YN

- it's an indirect date! - Vista said with a huge smile

- you wrong! No! No!- YN covered her face with her hands.

- YN turned red with embarrassment, she likes Ace!- Izou joked

- I'm not! But yes! But not! It's not like that, stop, please!- YN shook her head with her face covered by her hands.

And it was like that all day, everyone celebrating that Ace and YN were together, even if they weren't, they would soon be!

[snapscube]

Hey, I just edited my first ever stream (was Kuu's Colosseum vod) and I used your suggested method!!! it was fun, and I see making more as an inevitability. Thank you! :]

Though there was one question I had, and maybe it's a diff in the software, but it was about the second pass, where you making the rough cuts based on the timestamps recorded but keep the original source unchanged. I assumed this was so that you could go back to the original source and get more or less context to make a transition between clips better.

I've been using Shotcut, and it has the ability to extend a clip back or forwards, re-gaining cut footage, so I effectively have the original video at all times even when I cut it to pieces. Am I misunderstanding the point of keeping the original vod alongside the rough cuts?

(Included both parts of your ask so I can answer in one, hope you don't mind!) Yeah so let me hit these points beat by beat!

Personally the "two timelines" approach for me is just helpful as a general frame of reference for how much original footage is there, how much I've been able to cut down to, where my clips are on that timeline, AND yes, how much context surrounds each clip that I could either remove or utilize as I edit the rough cut down further. Ultimately it's MOST useful for that last point though, so if something like that Shotcut feature works better for you then 100% feel free to omit my suggestion! Not everything that works for me is gonna work for you and that's totally fine! I just like having a version of the timeline with all my markers lined up to the uncut footage JUST IN CASE, and it's something I'd recommend as people get familiar with the needs of their own workflow and the abilities of the editing suite they use.

When it comes to the video lengths you should be looking at for a final cut, it REALLLY depends on a lot of different things. What's the mission statement of the video, who is the target audience, what are your goals for pacing. Personally, for the main SnapCube channel we like to sit around the 30-60 minute window for edits, give or take depending on how long the original stream was. This is often being cut down from streams around 3-4 hours minimum, so safe to say a LOT of stuff ends up on the cutting room floor. But personally I find that a lot of the biggest time cuts actually end up in the polishing phase after you've already done a rough cut, because that's when we are just completely "butchering" the original pacing of my commentary and bits and story moments to just make everything super snappy (haha), as that's the style we're going for. Ellie in particular does a lot of sentence splicing and rearranging my commentary to fit a smaller amount of footage that communicates the larger idea of a bit or conversation, it's super impressive. I'd say definitely play around with the format and try to take a couple passes to see how much you can get things down while still communicating the original experience well, but OVERALL your style is your style and if long videos are the vibe with the audience you're shooting for, there's no harm in that. You're gonna find a good balance with practice!

[bobfloydssunnies]

THINGS THAT ARE IN THE TOP GUN BOOK BUT NOT THE MOVIE

this list is long and i ramble so idk how much is understandable sorry i just ramble cause i feel some need explanations. I may have missed some difference cause some of it was just a change in dialogue or something simple i tried to just stick with up noticeable differences or things that felt more important. Y'all can ask me about any of these if you want and if i didn't explain it much or like want to see the page in the book.

maverick has a younger brother named Barney who is 3/4 years younger than him 

maverick Dad was a test pilot and was part of testing the F-14s before getting called up to the war

Mavericks dad‘s name is Rick Mitchell, and when he died they gave him a Navy cross but just mailed it to them instead of doing an official ceremony (since they think he's a traitor or whatever shit lie they are telling people)

after they found out they were going to top gun they went out onto the bow of the ship and then yelled into the night that they were getting to go to top gun

they have goose and maverick ride on maverick's motorcycle before they have to go to Miramar they’re just driving around San Diego when they are stopped by California highway patrol because Maverick is speeding (he was going about 115 mph but then when he tells the cop how fast he was going he says he was going Mark .15 or 1/60 the speed of sound)

goose and Maverick got a police escort to base because Maverick talked his way out of the speeding ticket

‘ shit, mav - you saved cougar. looks like the tale got all twisted up crooked somehow’ goose said (after they talked with slider at the bar cause he brings up them taking cougars spot and without ice)

“Figured it out yet” ….“Who’s the best pilot”  (ice) “ i know who the best is” maverick answered “ now i didn’t say the luckiest” (ice) (this was more just like a conversation change but still)

mav jokes goose owes him 50 when him and charlie leave the bathroom (even tho they did nothing)

They have a whole moment of mav getting fully suited up and like going thru the whole pre flight check with him suit and equipment and explaining some of the things he’s wearing and has on him for survival if needed (little details like were so nice and just cool to see)

Goose starts the convo about them flying inverted and that they saw a mig and then mav comes in and brings up more about it ( they both kinda equally talked not just mav with random bits from goose) 

Viper seems aware that charlie and maverick are messing around but idk how much he fully knows he just seems to see/hears them talking before they start flying

They make a point to say mav always keeps his promises especially the ones to himself (the foreshadowing) 

They try to hide charlie and mavs relationship more in the book

The volleyball game starts like 30 minutes before mav is supposed to be at charlies and goose comes to get mav, he tries to get out of it and then goose starts saying ice and slider called mav chicken shit and they need to defend his honor 

Goose and carole were childhood friends to lovers like they started dating in high school and bradley is only 1 and half when they are at top gun ( goose talks about how before they come to visit he is afraid bradley isn’t going to remember him)

Goose also calls carole his lifeline and his reality

We learned where in tennesse carole and goose are from (it’s buck holler) 

They don’t sing great balls of fire at the bar instead goose plays bartender during that scene and bradley isn't with them (goose still says great balls of fire during some of his other lines though)

Penny is never mentioned ( or admirals daughter)

They mention goose putting the ejection lever in pilot position meaning maverick was in control of the ejection commands

After the accident mav is stuck in the water for a while before finally getting into the inflatable raft in his survival pack and he falls asleep or passes out and then when he comes to again he finally pulls goose up on to the raft with him after cutting him free from his parachute and the other debris from the crash (its sunset when he comes to and dark by the time he gets goose on his raft) 

When mav gets checked over by medical he also gets told he should go to therapy every once in a while to talk and he agrees but its obvious he wont do it 

When charlie picks him up after his eval she mentions that she was with carole and bradley while he was in medical and i just am confused by that but whatever they wanted i guess

Charlie also gives him this speech about he just needs some time between him and the accident and that times the only miracle and he said if its a miracle he wants yesterday back so he can have goose back and like they talk more but he blames himself because it was his hand and his brain

They kind of implied that carole and goose had an apartment they were in the middle of moving into cause mav has to pack up what was left in his room on the base

When carole does the speech about goose loving to fly with maverick and that he’d fly without him if he had too, its in the apartment and at the end of the conversation mav hears bradley ask for carole calling her mama ( he calls him baby boy brad) 

Mav calls himself a killer cause it seem like not one willingly want to fly with him each time they go after cause they hint he's with a different RIO each time he flies after the accident

When mav quits he packs all his stuff while the rest of the guys are in the locker room and tells them he is saving them the paperwork

Wolfman gives mav a speech outside the locker room trying to talk him out of quitting before we see him make the phone call to charlie (which is longer in the book) 

The speech with viper takes place on the beach more while viper is out with his son rather than at his house and then out on a walk and he doesn’t explain what duke did to save the other people

His options weren’t just quitting or graduating he was told he could just not finish and go back to his old squadron, go back to top gun and finish cause they weren't that close to graduation or he could quit

Maverick asks Merlin to be his RIO but doesn’t want him to feel forced to so if he hadn’t said yes someone else would have been picked 

hollywood, wolfman and mav seem to be a lot closer than the movie makes them

They had the wingman speech take place in the ready room instead of on the deck and maverick is literally in his underwear it sounds like cause they make the comment his pants are down around his ankles (which what a funny thing like they are all in the locker room changing after they had the moment on the deck)

Mav also takes the tape with goose name off his locker before he throws his dogtags out to see (which was stupid imo cause he still holds on to his dads navy cross)

We see maverick start his instructor gig at top gun with his first class before the last bar scene with charlie (who is back cause she has a new job that brought her back to top gun)

[daphnasworld]

originally I hadn't wanted to post anything about the current situation in Israel. Simply bc I wanted to use tumblr as a stress free place to distract myself. But i just saw someone I followed posting something horrible - and I have to say something about that.

Let me explain something first to you - I am german and jewish. I do not live in Israel but had been there a few times to see one of my grandmothers. You need to know that my paternal grandparents were jews living in Marocco but had to leave their home bc of antisemitism in the 60s, shortly before my father was born. Their families had lived in Marocco since ca the 1600. They had to pay nearly all of their money just so that they could afford to pay for the legal passports so that they could get on a boat and leave. As they were still scarred of Europe (bc of what happened in the 30/40s) and they didn't speak english they went to Israel. Simply bc they wanted to feel safe as jews (which btw isn't something common even today!). Anyway, my mothers family is german since forever - and christian. When my parents met my mother herself was still a christian. My father moved to germany and I was born and raised here. I speak hebrew rather bad and think all the time that I want to learn it but I always procrastinate. I am more of a cultural jew, but celebrate all the holidays with my family and eat more or less kosher (no pig, no crustations, i don't mix meat with milk products but I don't wait for hours after eating meat until i eat something with milk - mostly only a few minutes). Like many jews I got asked over the years if I would one day like to move to Israel. The answer is no. I am german and I want to stay in Germany. The only reason I would leave germany would be if something like the holocaust would be happening again. And even then I would look at the whole world to determine where it would be the safest for me. The existence of Israel is a huge relief to me. Because I know that at least there I will always have a safe place to turn to - I can't say that about any other country in the world. In every other country it would be depending on their current government. That had always been the case throughout history since Israel was first taken from the jews.

Now that you know that about me on to the original point of this post. Someone basically posted that what's happening now (terrorists coming to israel, killing civillians, taking people hostage to gaza, filming how they get belittled, spit on, insulted, hit and hurt in other ways - all including tourists and non jews and children) wasn't bad but what Israel deserved. They claimed that no Israelis are civillians but members of the army (yes, even premature born babies) and therefor deserved what happened to them. Of course they were saying that Israelis and jews are the same (which isn't true - there are Muslem and christian and atheist Israelis, but of course thats being ignored). Claiming that all Israelis stole that land - while ignoring that jews had been living there even before there had been talks of bringing Israel back. Of course they also feed the believe that all Israelis are originally from Europe and white - which of course also not true.

Anyway that post basically ended with all Israelis deserve that because no one of them is a civilian and they are all murderers. This triggered me rather badly. Because when I had been only 14 yeq4s old classmates had called me a murderer because I was jewish. Back than I keeped being jewish rather private - it was known that I am jewish, but I didn't talk about it and I never talked about Israel or my family there. So it wasn't like I was that kid talking about the politics there or something. I also wasn't islamophobic. On the contrary, i spoke up if someone said something racist or bigoted and I was happy to have muslim classmates as they too didn't eat pig. Which was back than a big thing in germany. It was before we got all those vegetarian or vegan dishes. Especially were I lived the menus of most restaurants contained dishes to 80 % with pig meat. So it was great that I wasn't the only one not eating pig. Because i had been the only jew in my school. Anyway, one day in school my teacher for ethics class (bc in germany religion as a subject had been mandatory. But bc not everyone was christian there had been this special class called ethics were every non christian had to be in) said that it was time to talk about world religions. So why not talk about Islam and Judaism at the same time (bc to him there had been as good as no differences between both religions. It was only later that I realised that said teacher had been not only racist but also very antisemitic, but until then he had managed to hide it rather good). And suddenly it started, from one second to the next. I hadn't said anything but all of my muslim classmates except for two of them turned towards me and started to scream at me. It was horrifiyng. Until than I had only had to deal with right wing antisemitism but never from amy muslims but they were screaming at me, insulting me. Kids my age that five minutes before that had talked to me completly normal. I was totally frightened, as they were all so aggressiv and didn't stop. Especially one male student was horrible. The teacher hadn't done anything - he sat in his chair, looked at us and actually smiled. And all my non muslim friends in this class simply sat there quietly. Not shocked or scared - most of them even looked bored. 5 minutes before that I had believed to be in a safe space surrounded be friends - only to be alone and scared like never before. But what stayed most prominent out of all of it until today was the following: they were screaming that all jews are murderers. Including me, a 14 year old, that all of them knew for years. When asked why, they said simply bc the Isreali government killed people, all israeli politicians were jews and because of that all jews had to be murderes. That argument is of course absolute bullshit and makes no sense at all. But it was clear that this way of thinking had been teached all of them. How else would a bunch of teenagers get those thoughts? Of course they must have heard it somewhere. And they believed it with their whole being. No counter argument, no question asked, nothing could make them change their minds. They truly believed that to be the truth. And that was what scared me the most. Because they were already so aggressiv about it, screaming it unprompted, filled with hatred. I cried for the rest of that day. I was scared shitless of every single one of those screaming classmates. Years later at another school I met one of them again. I was still afraid of him, especially since afterwards I had informed myself more of the antisemitic as well as the political situation there and started to understand just how deep and wide spread that hatred was. And of course i tried to stay away from him until he asked me why I didn't like him. And guess what - he didn't remember it. Something that traumatised me to my bones had been an ordinary Tuesday for him.

You can critisize Israel all you want, because yeah, the government made mistakes. But they are not all evil. If you serioulsy believe that no Israeli is innocent (incl the children) and are even happy about what is happening there, than you are an antisemitic piece of shit and a horrible person.

[j0kers-light]

okayy, so, how would Joker react if reader was obsessed with history?? Like, really obsessed, she knows how long Napoleon's d_ck was, has been to france over a hundred times just to see Marie Antoinette's bedroom, has watched and read every historial movie/book possible and is yapping all the time about weird history facts??

One and half inches.

So....... basically you want me to describe myself? Aight. Let's get into it! 🖤✨

Joker knows you're a history buff. You're always sounding off random facts during normal conversations that he's used to it by now.

If he says something inaccurate, rest assured, you take a deep breath and hit him with the "well, actually..." A normal correction rant lasts about 5-30 minutes or 1-2 hours if he's completely wrong.

He doesn’t have a clue about what you’re saying majority of the time but he’s a supportive lover so he’ll listen more so to the sound of your voice rather than what you’re saying.

That being said, Joker uses your extensive knowledge of things to his advantage. If he brings you to a meeting, he purposefully says something incorrect to get a reaction out of you and you fall for it every single time. For example…

“Historically, The Battle of Agincourt was an astonishing victory for the English despite the reported 25,000 French forces that showed up. It was won not by luck.. but military tactics like using the terrain and basic human instincts. Imagine stepping over your fallen comrades wearing armor weighing 60 pounds through thick mud and..."

Annnnnnnnd you enter an impromptu history lesson. This is gonna take a while.

All Joker said was, 'get your feet out of the mud and focus.' How you connected his comment to facts from a 14th century battle, Joker will never know. It’s a hidden talent of yours.

Now you're educating his goons about the historical importance of the English longbow and quoting excerpts directly from Shakespeare's play Henry V. The crazy part, they're actually listening!

His bunny is weird. That's all he can say. He doesn't bat an eyelash when you beg him to go on another trip overseas.

There's a new exhibit at the Palace of Versailles and you have to see Marie Antoinette's bedchambers again! Like it changed since last year.... 🙄

He takes you anyway and you know more than the tour guide that tourists are following you around the vast estate learning odd facts and trivia.

You have too much information stored in that silly little head of yours. Can someone really be that smart? You know about every little thing that it should be annoying, but Joker loves watching you nerd out over documentaries, books, and etc. You can easily be a historian or curator.

Joker does not dare bother you when a new research article or accredited documentary drops because you are laser focused, mouthing the new knowledge under your breath as it gets absorbed in.

Do you really need to know that much about the past? Yes, he doesn't understands how history repeats itself but come on! Some of this stuff is useless knowledge....

Your interests span from the Byzantine empire to modern day culture ranging from crucial facts to funny tidbits. Joker is not exaggerating to the boys when he says, "Y/n. Knows. Everything."

"Alright lightening round. I'll stop if you're incorrect. You ready Y/n?"

You nod at Morgana and close your eyes to concentrate. In the background, Joker and his loyal three were scheming a new mission at your dining room table. You and Morgana are forced to entertain yourselves until they finish.

They stopped discussing plans the second Morgana started asking random questions.

"Modern day Persia is located where?"

"Iran!"

"When did construction on the Tower of Pisa begin?

"Uh... it took 199 years.. ooh! August 9th, 1179!"

"China's first emperor." Morgana asked. You opened your mouth to answer, but paused.

"Male or female?" You asked.

She smirked. Okay.. you understood the assignment.

"First male emperor, Qin Shi Huang who invented the title emperor and created the Qin dynasty. The first any ONLY female emperor, is my girl Wu Zetian! A true, started from the bottom now we here! Her epitaph remains left blank."

Morgana resumed her quick fire questions ranging from the ancient and modern world with you answering all correctly and adding a cool side fact.

It was rather impressive.. until Joker decided to have a little fun. "Since ya know soooo much Bunny. Do ya know Batman's identity?"

You were halfway answering the process of explaining Venetian architecture, when you heard Joker’s comment.

The room went quite waiting for your answer. Frost and Joker lock eyes but they quickly dart over to you when you finally respond.

“I don’t know everything J. Batman’s identity is a well guarded secret however he and I are on speaking terms. I can ask him whenever we ever bump into each other again. Not like I’ll get an answer, but it’s worth a shot.”

You nod to yourself and without missing a beat, you resume explaining to Morgana how the floating city of Venice was created one wooden pile at a time.

Meanwhile Joker is fuming at the table. “Whaddya mean bump into him again?!” Why does this sound like a common occurrence?

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Kidnapped

Bucky's not naturally a worrier. Not really, not for anyone else except a select few individuals that he dutifully kept close. And when you waltzed into his life, he found himself constantly worried about you. Everything and anything about you, he found himself completely and utterly concerned with. Eventually, he'd learned to back off a little. To trust that you were an adult and could take care of yourself. 

But today, he can't talk himself off that ledge. 

That off-putting feeling of wrongness. 

And he's getting really worried about you. You went on a mission earlier, texted him as you landed that you were going to the corner store and then you were coming right back with an hour to spare for your movie night. You were supposed to come right back.

Right back. 

And that was over two hours ago.

Now it's 6:30, and he's been anxiously waiting for you since you were supposed to meet him an hour ago for your weekly TV watching night. There's an uneasiness settling in his gut, you've never been late for you weekly tradition with him before.

It feels off, not just that you're gone. It's everything. It's that you're not texting him minute-by-minute, play-by-play. You're not calling him asking what snacks he wants even though you know that he likes those sour gummy worms you got him one time.

It's strange, and he's not one to ignore that gut feeling that's kept him alive all these years.

"Hey, has anyone seen-" Bucky starts to ask the room filled with various teammates.

"Barnes, we got a problem," Tony urgently interrupts him, nudging his head and pulling him into the conference room. "Just got an anonymous tip- thought you should see it."

"Go ahead," he says, though Tony's not really holding his attention as much as you are.

"I want you to stay calm," Tony says, clicking the link. The large screen is suddenly filled with a video of you. You, completely unconscious in some unknown location.

"When was this sent?" Bucky demands, standing up so quickly that his chair goes skidding across the floor.

"Team, I need everyone in here. Code, uh, missing teammate," Tony announces over the intercom. Though not fast enough for Bucky- within 60 seconds, most of the available team is here: Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Sam, Wanda, and Vision.

"What happened? Who's missing?" Steve asks as the last person to rush into the room.

Tony opens the link again, showing the clip of you once again. "I have an anonymous link - that's all we have so far."

"Okay, what if it was doctored?" Bruce asks. "That doesn't mean she's missing."

"Yes, it does," Bucky grits. "She went to the store two hours ago. We were supposed to meet at 5:30."

"And it's only," Bruce looks down at this watch. "6:35. She could just be late."

"It's Thursday?" Sam asks. "Golden Girls night - she wouldn't be late for that."

"That's what I said," Bucky agrees.

"We're gonna get back to the fact that you two watch Golden Girls together," Tony remarks. "But Barnes and Wilson are right. She's not responsive- her phone was turned off. I think we need to find her and find her fast."

"Okay, so where do we sta-"

That's when a new video starts loading on the screen. "What the hell?" Tony says, violently tapping buttons trying to get his technology back.

"Hello, Avengers," a masked man eerily announces. "I think I have something that belongs to you."

All the lights turn on in the room the masked man is standing in and just behind him they see you. You're being held in a large glass-like container and still completely unconscious with a large black collar around your neck.

That's when Tony gets a call from an unknown number.

"Answer it," Bucky demands.

Tony nods, picking up his phone and putting it on speakerphone. "Who is this?"

"You chose the wrong person to steal from, Avengers," the man eerily speaks like he knows they're all listening. "Now you're going to give me the artifact you stole back. Or I'll kill your pet."

"Damn it. Give her back. Give her back or so help me, God-" Bucky barks.

"You're in no position to make threats. I'll send you the coordinates. Oh, and you may want to hurry- I have a lot of fun planned for your friend."

You're engulfed in darkness, the heaviness of your limbs is finally fading. As you finally regain feeling in your limbs, you jolt to your feet. "Oh, look who is awake!" A man in front of you exclaims. "I think I'll keep this camera on- you can watch how you kill one of your own," he remarks then hangs up.

As the man moves out of frame and zooms in on you, they can see as you try to take in your surroundings. You're in a clear glass container, shackled to the bottom of it. There's a large pipe leading into the box. "What's going on?" you groggily ask.

"The Avengers have taken something of mine. In return, I've taken their little pet."

"And I'm the little pet?" you ask, pointing your finger at yourself in disbelief.

"Yes."

Your hand flies at the glass, instinctively pounding on it and trying to get a feel for the sturdiness of it.

"Ah, ah," the man tsks. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You break the glass, if your friends decide to try any heroics- I'll press this button and kill you instantly."

"Ooooohhh," you exhale shakily, though it sounds more out of amusement than fear. "James' going to be so mad...You know he's always telling me I need to be more careful. I think this is the kind of thing he's talking about."

"This is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about," Bucky shouts at the screen.

"You know she can't hear you, right?" Steve asks, putting his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"I imagine they'll all be upset when they watch you slowly drown," the man says, sending another fresh wave of dread over Bucky.

"This containers gonna fill up with water?" you ask, pointing to the large pipe leading inside the container. "And they're watching this right now? Like you're filming this?" you question plainly, pointing at the camera.

"Correct."

You turn to look at the camera placed behind the man. You wave gleefully. "Hi, guys! Don't worry I'm okay!"

"You won't be for much longer."

And just like that ice cold water is rapidly funneling into the large glass container. You can't contain the yelp that leaves your mouth when your feet are hit with the most ice-cold water you've ever felt. It almost sends Bucky over the edge. You stick your hand out and try to channel your abilities, but it's useless. The man's head nudges to the collar on your neck, the man taunts, "You're powerless here."

"Hey, um Mr. Villain Man?" you shakily chatter. "I'm sorry I'm being rude, what's your name?"

"That's none of your concern," he hisses.

"Oh okay, I guess. It's just- the water's really cold."

"An incentive for your friends to move quickly."

"Don't worry. We'll get her back," Steve promises Bucky, who refuses to tear his eyes away from the screen.

"After she freezes to death or after she drowns?" Bucky snaps.

"Well this here- this is one of the reasons I have tracking devices on all of you. Just give me a minute and I'll find her," Tony says, already tapping away on his screen.

"Wait, what?" Steve challenged. "You have tracking devices- On all of us?"

"Of course I do. For this very reason," Tony shrugs, only half paying attention to Steve.

"How did you manage to hide tracking devices on our person?" Nat questions, slightly freaked out that Tony managed to chip her. 

"Easy. Different spots for all of you. Microscopic, you can't even tell that they're there," Tony touts.

"Well, where's her's?"

"I put it in the charm on one of her bracelets."

"Her friendship bracelets?" Sam asks.

"Yes?"

"Who the hell got a charm?" Sam demands, holding up his wrist. "And why didn't I get one?"

Everyone looks down, examining their own bracelets. Everyone except Bucky, who doesn't need to look because he knows his bracelet like the back of his hand. Just like he knows the charm hanging off of it.

"You mean this charm?" Bucky asks, lifting his arm and gently flicking it knowing it'll piss off Sam even more.

Sam's mouth drops a little and he shakes his head. "I'm not gonna lie. That hurt- that stings."

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns back to the screen. "Tony," he urges, watching the way you're already shivering, though he knows you're doing your best to put on a brave front.

"Just give me a minute," Tony hisses.

"So, we're just going to wait?" you ask, letting your eyes wander around the room.

"Yes," he man sighs in frustration.

"Soooo," you start again, kicking your foot through the cold water and making it splash around. "Do you do this a lot? Kidnap Avengers?"

"You're hardly an Avenger," the man laughs bitterly. "You could be the most powerful being on this Earth and yet you settle for being their little sidekick."

"I like working with my friends."

"Hmm...and where are you friends now? How long did it take them to realize you were gone?"

You shrug, your words coming through uneven breaths. "I don't know. But I do know, that James will scold me for this after I get out of here." You turn to the camera. "Hey, when I get back can you guys tell me if I used that word right? James likes to scold me."

Bucky looks down pinching the bridge of his nose. While the man talks to you again, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, Steve told me that James doesn't show affection like most of us. He's actually kind of grumpy, but I think he yells at me because he cares."

"Or maybe he's not as good of a friend as you think?"

You ponder that for a moment. And Bucky's heart drops, his stomach twists with the thought that you could even doubt how much he cares about you.

"Nah," you wave your hand dismissively. "I mean sometimes he's confusing. And I don't really know how much he likes me, but I know that he does."

"So naive, thinking they'd give you the time of day if you couldn't do the things you can do."

"That's not true. They're all nice to me- they're my friends," you reply defensively.

"Are you always this irritating?"

"Hey, you asked and I answered." Then you look down, the water already reaching around your knees. Your breath is shaky and you feel the freezing water all around you - so cold that it feels like it's burning you. "And according to Tony, yes I am."

"Tony," Bucky impatiently urges again. "If you don't find her in the next minute, I'm taking that artifact and I'm giving it back."

"Can you just be patient? I'm doing the best I can."

You're waist deep in water, watching as the man picks up your wallet from the same table that the camera is resting on. He flips it open and start rifling through it's contents.

"You carry a picture of the Winter Soldier, interesting," your kidnapper says holding the picture up to the camera. It's a picture of you and Bucky. The two of you are on the couch, both fast asleep, curled up into each other. What the cute little captured moment in time didn't show was that Sam had taken the picture, woken Bucky up with the shutter of the camera, and then proceeded to get chased by Bucky for taking said picture. "And one of your little friends."

"Yeah, you know for a bunch of superheroes it's really hard to get everyone still enough to take a picture."

"I got it," Tony announces. And as quickly as the words left Tony's mouth, Bucky's up out of his chair before anyone says anything else.

"Hold on, Bucky," Steve interrupts, blocking Bucky's exit. "We still need a plan. We can't just go in there gun's blazing."

"You want me to hold on?" He says gesturing to the screen, the water now reaching up to your waist.

"You heard the man, he gets a whiff of anything funny and he'll kill her. We have to be smart about this," Steve reconciles. 

"Fine," Bucky snaps. "But we figure it out on the jet."

And it takes much too long for Bucky's liking before him and Steve are standing outside of the building you're apparently being held in. He's practically vibrating with desperate anticipation, all he needs is the cue from Tony. 

"You're going to have 30 seconds to get her out," Tony says into Bucky's ear piece. "If he has a generator set up they usually take a minute before they kick in, and if he has a fail-safe set up..." 

"I get it," Bucky curtly replies. "I'll go straight to her - Steve you get the control just in case I don't get her out in time."

"Don't worry, we'll get her out."

"You've got 30 seconds. Starting...now," Tony announces, all the power in the surrounding area suddenly out.

When Bucky runs in, he runs straight to the container. Your head is completely pointed up and you're on your tiptoes trying to keep your face above water. "Don't worry. I'm going to get you out of there."

Your eyes flicker down to see Bucky standing there, swearing he's going to get you out. Then you take one last gulp of air before you're completely submerged in the container. Bucky punches the glass, once, twice, three times and nothing.

"20 seconds, Barnes."

"Will you shut up?" Bucky snaps. He takes a deep breath and with all of his strength, he punches the glass as hard as he can. Finally seeing a large crack appear, he concentrates on the very center until water is pouring out all over the floor. He pays no attention to the water pouring out and drenching him, he grabs you and picks you up in his arms. Your lips are blue, you're shivering so hard that it seems more like shaking, and you're breathing is so uneven it frightens him to his very core. "I got you. Don't worry- I got you."

"I need a blanket," he calls, running you to the jet where Tony, Bruce, and Dr. Cho are waiting for you. "Jesus, you're freezing."

"Doll, can you keep your eyes open for me? Talk to me," he says, gently stirring you.

"I'm sorry- I got kidnapped," you chatter, barely able to breathe. Your eyes flutter shut as you take in the feeling of being in Bucky's warm arms, the knowledge that you're finally safe. At least, that's what it feels like to you. Like your just giving in to the darkness, letting it soothe you. Until Bucky shakes you awake again as he runs you up the ramp and up into the small room they've got waiting you you.

"FRIDAY, vitals," you hear Tony call.

"Blood pressure and pulse are dangerously low, body temperature is down to 85 degrees," FRIDAY announces.

"Put her down, Bucky. We've got her," Bruce says, but Bucky refuses desperately wanting to hold onto you. 

"Bucky, you've got to let them work," Steve interjects, trying to pry you from Bucky's grasp. "She'll be fine, but you need to let her go."

Bucky nods and finally lets Steve lay you on the table. "I'm staying here," Bucky grunts.

"Just stay out of the way," Tony states, already completely focused on the task at hand. Bucky reluctantly takes a seat, never once taking his eyes off of you. He cranes his neck over Bruce and Tony trying to get any indication that you're going to be okay. 

And he watches...

When they cut off your favorite yellow shirt.

When they hook you up to an IV with warmed saline.

As they cover you in heated blankets. 

"She's crashing," Bruce calls. And only then does Bucky have to look away when they pull out the small crash cart and try to resuscitate you. Involuntary tears slip out of his eyes as he clutches his hair.

This can't be it, it can't be, he chants to himself.

Clear, they call the first time. Then the second. By the time he hears it the third time, he's sure he's lost you. And for the longest second of his life, he hears complete silence as they listen to the monitor you're hooked up to. Then they hear it, the sound of your heart still beating in your chest. And he's thanking God that just one time he gets to be the lucky person. That for once he doesn't have to lose.

He's next to you the entire time. Once you're stable in the hospital, he's tucked under the blanket with you. When the doctor tells him that skin to skin contact is best for warming, he does it without hesitation, though he doesn't actually take off any of your clothes. His forehead is dripping sweat with the amount of warmth surrounding the two of you and he still refuses to move an inch. Even when Sam makes fun of him for it.

And when you wake up in the hospital, the first thing you are aware of is the heat source right next to you. Without even opening your eyes, you find yourself cuddling further into it, making Bucky's heart flutter.

"Doll?" he whispers, feeling you beginning to stir.

"James," you croak, your tired eyes slowly opening.

"I'm here."

"Without a shirt on?" you quietly chuckle, feeling his bare skin against your arm.

"Sorry, they said skin to skin contact was best," he sheepishly replies, grabbing his shirt from the nightstand. 

"I didn't say I had a problem with it," you mumble, stopping his movement. He sighs in relief against your head, putting his arm around you and pulling you even closer. "You're never going to let me go to the store alone ever again, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"Okay," you peacefully hum against his bare shoulder.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Masterlist

[mattoyaki]

Hey, I was just wondering if you would mind walking through kinda what your workout routines is and how you eat and stuff (if that's okay/not too invaisive). I've been making small changes myself but just curious about other guys are doing. ❤️

Sorry if this has been answered before!

Hey there anon, thanks for asking this I’m flattered! I’m definitely not an expert and I’m still very new to fitness in general (only been at it for ~9 months now.) I’m also not really one to be systematic about it. I don’t calorie count or follow a specific workout routine, for example. Tbh this past year I’ve just been dicking around in the gym and trying new stuff out lol. With that said I don’t really have a definitive routine but I’ll share what I’ve been doing:

• Push-ups everyday, even on rest days. I try to do at least 100 but 200 is my ideal range. I’ve started doing pull-ups most days as well but since I don’t have a pull up bar (yet) I only do those when I go to the gym. Still doing assisted pull-ups for now (multiple sets until failure) but already seeing big improvement in my back and lats!

• My “routine” can shift depending on my schedule but I generally do PPL (push-pull-legs) with a rest day in between. This averages out to about 5-6 days a week in the gym, 3-4 of those being upper body and 2 leg days. However, when I first started lifting I was only doing about 2-3 gym days a week total, so I’ve worked my way up to that. I generally workout for for 60-90 minutes. My workouts usually start with a warm up, then the actual workout, followed by a “Lightning round” to finish off where I just make myself go until absolute failure and get as much of a pump as i can.

• I generally split my upper body workouts into chest/back and arms/shoulders respectively, but sometimes I’ll switch it up. I make it a point to switch up my workouts everytime too, so for example, if I did bench press my last chest day I’ll do dumbbells my next one etc.

• Warming up I always do push-ups, pull-ups, and then depending on what im hitting that day I’ll do some drop sets accordingly to get a good little pump in, really focusing on muscle mind connection. In my opinion MMC has been paramount in me getting good pumps and making sure I’m targeting the muscle I want properly.

• I take my sets to failure every-time and I gradually increase the weight with each set (progressive overload). My only exception to this is during a warm-up where I do some drop sets.

• An example of my routine would look like this:

Chest/Shoulders

Warm Up (15 minutes)

Push-ups 3x12

Pull-ups 3x8

Pec Deck Flys (drop sets, focusing on squeezing the pec muscles)

Rear Delt Flys (same as Pec Flys on the pec deck machine)

Dumbbells (30 minutes)

Hammer Press 3x12

Chest Press 3x12

Chest Flys 3x12

Lateral Raises 3x12

Incline Hammer Press 3x12

Incline Chest Press 3x12

Incline Chest Fly 3x12

Decline Hamer Press 3x12

Decline Chest Press 3x12

Decline Chest Fly 3x12

Rear Delt Flys 3x12

Cables (20 minutes)

Lat Pulldowns 3x12

Rear Delts 3x12

Chest Flys (at varying heights to activate the upper, middle, and lower chest respectively)

Lateral Rows 3x12

Pec Deck (20 minutes)

Chest Flys 3x12

Rear Delt Flys 3x12

Finish Line

Push-Ups til failure

Pull-Ups til failure

Chest Flys til failure

————————————————

Arms/Shoulders

Warm-Up (15 minutes)

Push ups 3x12

Pull-Ups 3x8

Cable Bicep Curls (drop sets)

Cable Tricep Pulldowns (drop sets)

Dumbbells (30 minutes)

Hammer Press 3x12

Bicep Curls 3x12

Shoulder Shrugs 3x12

Arnold Press 3x12

Shoulder Press 3x12

Tricep Curls 3x12

Isolated Bicep Curls 3x12

Machines (20 minutes)

Tricep Press 3x12

Bicep Curl 3x12

Tricep Extensions 3x12

Shoulder Press 3x12

Finish Line

Push-ups til failure

Pull-Ups til failure

————————————-

Legs

Warm-Up (25 minutes)

Stairs (5 minutes)

Elliptical (5 minutes)

Treadmill (5 minutes)

Squats 3x8

Wall sits (3 sets for 30s, 45s and 1m respectively)

Machines (30 minutes)

Ham Press 3x12

Leg Press 3x12

Quad Extension 3x12

Calf Press 3x12

Hip Adductions (virgin) 3x12

Hip Abductions (whore) 3x12

Cables (15 minutes)

Glute Kickbacks 3x12

Smith Machine (20 minutes)

Squats 3x12

RDLs 3x12

Hip Thrusts 3x12

Finish Line (15 minutes)

Wall Sits til failure

Push-ups til failure

Pull-ups til failure

Cable Kickbacks

Reverse Treadmill (5-10 minutes, helps with knee pain!)

——————————————————-

• As for my diet as I stated I don’t calorie count and I kinda just go off how hungry or full I feel lol. I try to eat mostly healthy but nothing too crazy. Chicken is my main source of protein, I also use ground Turkey a lot. Eggs. Eggs. Eggs. And beans! I mostly use frozen vegetables (broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, brussel sprouts, zucchini, etc) and I also use leafy greens (spinach, collared/turnip greens, kale etc) in salads and in smoothies. For breakfast I’ll have some oatmeal, toast, potatoes, and of course eggs. I drink protein shakes as well as 5g creatine every day

I’ll share my smoothie recipe because it’s pretty good and I’ve definitely seen gains with it. I drink this pretty much every night after my workout:

Green Smoothie

• Equal parts mango and pineapple

• 2 scoops of vanilla casein protein powder (50g protein)

• 1/2 cup fat-free Greek yogurt (I use Fage brand cause ima fag)

• several handfuls of leafy greens (spinach, collared greens, kale, etc, just whatever I have)

• 1 avocado

• 1 banana

• equal parts coconut water and cashew/almond milk

Blend until it forms a homogeneous liquid :)

This is kinda haphazard but I hope it’s kinda what you’re looking for!! I might make a more detailed post in the future if more people are curious :)

[royallygray]

Hi Royalllll :DD

Im about to go play Assassin's Creed but I just thought of a question so here's 2/?

Do you play any video games? If yes, which ones and what one is your favorite?

oooh ty for the ask! and uh

I don't play any video video games. I just got bedrock Minecraft like three or four days ago. it's slightly embarrassing how good I am at the game and how much I know for playing approximately eight times.

I was really fucking good at Tower of Destiny on Coolmathgames in like 3rd grade

I slay at bop it. The irl device. I'm so fucking good at it. most of the time.

uhhh

Yeah. I have Beatstar! and Im rly good at that (it's a music tiles game where you tap in beat. it's accurate and also it uses actual songs not covers)

I think my favorite is Minecraft. I'm constantly playing with one of my friends, and it's really fun, even though it's genuinely terrifying bc I do not have any sense of time when playing and it freaks me out since I started playing at like 6pm and then the next time I looked at the clock like five minutes later it was 8:30

For other games, since why not overshare, --HOLD ON A MINUTR

OKAY SO I DON'T PLAY IT BC I DONT HAVE STEAM BUT PHASMOPHOBIA

One of my most recent intense hyperfixations that is a more short lived one is GIGGS Phasmo. I usually never watch VODs because they're too long, but I actually fucking BINGED 90% of Impulse's Phasmo VODs and all of Grian's Phasmo videos. I do watch the VODs at like 1.75 speed so my interpretation of ghost speed is almost certainly completely fucked up but OTHER THAN THAT I KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT PHASMO AND I LOVE IT AND I LOVE GIGGS AND THEN IQWHOQJQL THEMMM <<3333

One of my other favorites to watch is Gloom's playthrough of Sally Face. I started watching her like that before COVID and I watched her Sally Face stuff and it has a very special place in my heart. I also watched her play 60 Seconds, which was very cool except I watched all of them and didn't find anymore and also it takes me a while to branch out to new YT creators stuff

Ooh speaking of like.

I need to watch Undertale.

And I also! adore Minecraft Skyblock. Either MC Skyblock normal or Skyblock one block (my personal fav) or Skyblock one block but you get an item every 30 seconds

yeah hope that answered like 120% of your question

[mariana-oconnor]

The Red-Headed League Pt 2

until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roar of laughter.

Professional people being professional. Mmhm. You'd think a doctor would be better at keeping a straight face, I'm pretty sure humans have been sticking inappropriate things in inappropriate places since time immemorial. But these two are giggling like school boys. A lovely image, but I'd be a bit mad if they did it to me. I can't blame Mr Wilson for being mad at them.

Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr Duncan Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him.

Surprising no one at all. I said it in my comments about the first part, but I love how this whole scam has been echoed in heist shows/films right up to modern day. Acquire offices under false pretences, create hype around fake business, use office to make business look legit, pack up shop and leave an empty office behind and no one with any clue what the mark is talking about.

"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that if I waited I should hear by post.

I mean, honestly, for someone who is supposedly unassociated with the league in question, that's more than he should be able to say. A more normal response would be 'That's fucking weird, boss. I think it might be a scam.' But clearly Victor is entirely trustworthy, so I shouldn't question him. Totally trustworthy.

On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some 30 pounds, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every subject which comes under the letter A.

I expect that pub quizzes weren't around in 1890, but if they were, Mr Wilson would be an excellent addition to your team.

The internet tells me pub quizzes only date back to the 70s. Which seems late, as I swear my Mum's dad and brothers used to go religiously to their local league when she was young, but maybe I got the timeline on that wrong.

Further investigation has found me to be correct as the very league my family used to frequent is apparently referenced in an article from the early 60s. In fact it quotes someone who absolutely must have known my grandad and might even be in the picture of the quiz team on top of our bookcase.

This tangent has been brought to you by my love of trivia... Pun intended.

Back to the 1890s

"Why did you pick him?"

"Because he was handy and would come cheap."

"At half-wages, in fact."

"Yes."

A lesson that stands to this day: if something seems impossibly good value, it probably is. And if someone is willing to work for less than they're worth, one of you is the bad guy.

"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter."

This reads like a contradiction, but I'm pretty sure it's true. It's the weird things that make crimes stand out and lead to the people committing them. The crimes that are completely run of the mill, like house burglaries, are one of a thousand almost identical crimes. But if a juggling clown robbed a shoe shop and rode off on a unicycle, that would cut down the suspects drastically.

"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes."

Infamous line is infamous. All problems may be measured by how many pipes it takes to solve them. The standard SI unit of mysteriousness, I believe.

"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked. "What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few hours?"

"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing."

Let's hope no one has stuck a candlestick anywhere unmentionable... But seriously, you can just ditch your patients for the day? And I complain about waiting times for the NHS!

Watson is just: 'My bff asked me to play hooky. Lol. Byeee!' and these people are paying him.

"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, in my judgment. the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him before."

Holmes, the man is a terrible con artist. He's the most suspicious and he was so obvious it was embarrassing. And you're putting him right behind you in the list? (I assume Mycroft is number 1)

I guess that being intelligent doesn't mean you have to be good at conning people, but really, he's terrible at it. He couldn't have been more obviously involved if he had a sandwich board on saying 'The red-headed league is a con. Ask me how!'

I know Mr Wilson didn't work it out, but literally everyone else did. I bet that 14 year old child labour maid Mr Wilson hires knows he's a con man and just doesn't care because she's not paid enough to.

"Not him."

"What then?"

"The knees of his trousers."

I have been on this website too long, because my mind absolutely went into the gutter here. Which, incidentally, was also one of the places I thought of his knees being.

"Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it."

Is it a bank? Please be a bank. I honestly can't remember. But I want it to be a bank. Just for that good, old-fashioned bank robbery shenanigans. Although I will accept jewellery shop.

"There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot."

Oh yeah. Got to love a bank robbery. Classic.

This has been copied so many times in media it's difficult to tell whether contemporary audiences would have been as able to work it out as modern readers. But it's a classic for a reason.

Also worth noticing that there's a Vegetarian restaurant in London in 1890. You'd have been hard pressed to find a vegetarian restaurant in most parts of England in 1990, so that's ahead of its time.

My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a very capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those of Holmes, the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted, ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive.

Watson's crush is showing again. 😆

This description keeps going in a further totally heterosexual way. Look, I'm not saying straight guys can't appreciate their bff's 'languid, dreamy eyes', but when directly compared to his descriptions of other characters... This is exceptionally effusive is all I'm saying.

And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket.

Must. Not. Make. Joke.

[bensonsbobblehead]

Summertime Sadness - Chapter 5

Aubrey and Jack hotchner come home for the summer after living in California with their mom for the school year. How will they deal with the trauma in California and living with their fathers new girlfriend.

Content Pairings: Hotchner Famiy x BAU!Reader (ft; the team and others) POV: switches a lot. 

Chapter Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of problems eating and sleeping, fighting, sexual assault, and crying of course :(((((

wc; 1.4k 

A/N: here's chapter five , hope you’re still enjoying. Little more Jack for this chapter and just a few more chapters till its over thank you for reading! I will be posting this and my series that are more than three parts on Wattpad or A03 soon! Don't be afraid to interact more with me!

They arrived at home, everyone sleepily went to their rooms. Aaron and Aubrey shoulder to shoulder and you and Jack trailing behind. 

Nothing filled the air but your shuffles on the pavement, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

“You’re not stupid Y/N, I’m sorry” Jack looked up at you and you noticed the bags under his eyes. “I just hate seeing her cry, she never cries” he looked up at you,

“It’s okay Jack, Aubrey’s a sweet girl I completely understand” you smiled stopping him before he could get to the stairs. 

“I talked to your sister about…California and I have to know how are you?” you asked and Jack thought about an answer. The truth is he was struggling, badly, he hid it differently. His eating habits were out of wack, he was always tired but couldn’t sleep through the night. Jack just couldn’t burden you with having to deal with around sad case like him.

“I’m doing good, I just want Bre to be okay and my mom.” Jack said sadly, “Goodnight night Y/N/N” 

“Wait! Jack don’t feel pressured to tell me but was he abusing you too?” 

He hesitated for a moment with anxiety growing in his chest. He looked at you and nodded, “but not how he did Bre.” You nodded allowing him to continue,

“He just verbally and physically did, he was just so mean to me, telling me I’m useless and that mom hates us.”

“Did you tell your mom?” You asked hoping he didn’t have to deal with it on his own.

“No, I couldn’t because she’s just so happy with him and I can take it all so it doesn’t matter and I thought it would keep him away from Bre but it didn’t.” He said almost in a whisper, you had no more words, you didn’t know how to comfort them. You only wanted them to at least know they are safe with you. 

“Jack, I’m not letting anything happen to you or your sister again. I promise.” You pulled him into a hug and he squeezed you tightly. 

“Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll be so mad at me and Aubs please.” He begged through his tears, you rubbed his back harder wishing to take his pain. 

“Hey, he won’t be upset with either of you, you both did nothing wrong.” You pulled him back into the hug, pulled away and cupped his face, “I care so deeply about you little hotchner, and I won’t let anything happen to you or that girl upstairs.” He nodded as you wiped his tears 

You both silently walked up the stairs leaving the conversation at that.

Jack walked through the door to his room and disappeared into the dark. He shut the door, and pulled his hoodie off exposing his bruised stomach and a bandage on his back. They were in final stages of healing but were still noticeable. He hopped in a quick shower and changed the bandage. 

He laid down in his bed listening to the silence of the house, hearing nothing at all attempting to fill the emptiness he felt. He opened and shut his eyes for 30 minutes straight. 

Trying to remember what his uncle Spence told him staying still for 15 minutes straight will help you fall asleep faster. Jack knew he could do it, just 15 minutes, that’s counting to 60 15 times in a row, not long at all. Finally Jack finally fell asleep, after what felt like a few minutes he woke up in a panicked breath. It’s like he was back there all over again he could hear and see it all happening again. 

The night it happened 

Be a sweet little honeycomb and clean this up, Calvin said slamming the door heading to where Jack had just entered. “The hell you looking at little bitch?” He yelled toward Jack plopping down on the sofa 

“Hello to you to fucker” Jack whispered as he headed toward his room shutting the door behind him.

He threw his practice bag on the ground and got some pajamas out to get ready for a shower, walking toward theirconnected Jack & Jill bathroom.

“Aubrey how many times do I have to tell you to keep your bathroom door sh—-“ 

He froze, he couldn’t even move, his sister, his protector half naked laying in her blood with her knees to her chest, visibly shaking. He knew immediately what had happened but couldn’t even believe it. 

“Ja—ck” he ran to her, covering her up, “I’m here Bre, I’m here” she was crying so loud and hard, “I can’t take it anymore, please make it stop” she sobbed louder,

“He did this didn’t he?” She nodded into his chest, “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Before Aubrey could react he was out the room. 

“You BITCH” he hit him upside the head with a bottle of tequila causing it to break. Catching Calvin, who was taller than Jack off guard. The man got up and lunged at the boy. 

“Now you’re tuff huh?” He wiped out a pocket knife and sliced Jack in the back causing him to scream. After Calvin got a few punches in Jacks anger took over. 

He was on top of Calvin beat him to a bloody pulp. “You. Fucking. Rapist. Piece of. Shit.” He didn’t stop until Calvin was unresponsive, on the ground covered in blood. Jack stood up and spit on him walking out the room. 

He returned to his sister who was now in a pair of joggers and a hoodie. “We’re going to Uncle Dereks, now.” The teens had already been packed up, he called Derek first telling him they need a ride to the airport in the morning and it would be easier to just sleep there and a Uber immediately after. 

When the Uber arrived they both walked past a very drunk and bloody Calvin. 

“You can’t run from me Son and neither can you honeycomb.” He smiled with blood stained teeth. 

“Let’s go” Jack said opening the door for his sister, wishing the summer would last forever. 

When he fully awoke from reliving that night, Jack was soaked in his own sweat and tears, “he—lp..” his breathing was erratic he got up in a panic heading to Aubreys room. He walked into his sisters room which wasn’t anything new for the brother and sister.

“Aubrey? I —ne—Ed help “ he said asked as his breathing picked up. Aubrey stirred until her eyesight cleared and she seen her little brother in need. 

“J? Jack just try to breathe, okay? Just mimic me.” she rubbed his back and sad on the floor with his.

“In and out, we’re at dads house, in my room, he’s not here I promise.” Since that day in California, Jacks been having really bad night terrors to the point he can’t breathe, see, or even talk, he never told her what the nightmares were about but she had an idea. 

“Just keep breathing and hold my hands.” Bre sat patiently waiting as his breathing evened out, 

“Jack?” She asked rubbing his knee, Jack was still and staring at the wall in front of them. With lone tears falling, he nodded his head no signaling he wasn’t ready to talk just yet, “I’ll wait for you.” she said calmly to her baby brother.

Jack stared off with tears falling, Jacks strength through this hadn’t gone unnoticed. Aubrey noticed how much he tried to do for her. Trying to make sure she doesn’t have to do chores or constantly making sure she was okay throughout the day. He wanted to protect his sister from everything.

“All those times I was with him for hours when we were bonding were torture. He called me names, pushed me, pinched me. I should’ve told you about it sooner maybe I could’ve stopped all this from happening”

“No, don’t blame yourself, it’s his fucking fault.” She looked her brother in the eye refusing to let him Blake his self.

“He fucking sliced me with a knife Aubrey, I could’ve killed him, I’m a horrible person.” He cried harder and louder, “No J, you beat him and saved me and you, you’re a hero, my hero” he nodded his head and leaned into his big sister.

“I thought he cared about us.” He broke down into loud cries,

“I know, I did too, he’s good at pretending, I fucking hate him now” she hugged her brother. After he calmed down she guided him to her bed, he climbed in and slowly fell asleep, she pulled her blanket over him and sat his phone on the charger. She took a deep breathe hoping that they would get through this. 

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[aristre]

south park main four + whichever characters you want and how many times they failed their driving test. (how many times they failed their writing test as a treat pls)

can u ask me about south park yaoi next .. didn't realize i had sm to say on south park driving so i'm putting her under the cut

stan marsh

bro ... to be honest with u ... he fails the writing test twice cuz he does NOT read them questions and bc it's south park they have weird ass questions

"what do you not do when a pedestrian has a gun?" "oh sweet a pedestrian question? obviously it's yield" and then he picks yield and big ass red text comes up on the screen saying WRONG! DIPSHIT or something equally as aggravating

punched the screen at the dmv after failing like 5 of these in a row on his second try and got kicked out. then he started reading the questions the third time and passed

okay now the driving test. he only fails once and this is because he is TOO GOOD of a driver. pulls up at the dmv with one hand on the wheel and the other out the window you already know he's gonna get hella points docked off

no one told him to look left and right. or turn all the way for his blind spots. he doesn't use turn signals like a normal guy and he runs the yellows. there is nothing even wrong with his driving but let's be real he learned how to drive from his dad in 4th grade he drives like an old man

pulls into the parking lot easy peasy confident he passed then the dmv guy is like I marked you down 30 points. Read the driving manual. and then slams the door. stan almost runs into dmv guy as bro is walking back into the dmv and throws him the bird.

then because it's humiliating to not have a license he actually drove like a prude the second time

kyle broflovski

no he doesn't fail the written test he's kyle broflovski he would die of humiliation first

the embarrassing part is bro tryharded on the written test like he read the entire manual and did all the practice exams and then read every question carefully

but yes he passes .. congrats i guess

kyle would also fail once but for a different reason than stan. he drives like your grandmother. he drives like a 15.5 year old on their first driving lesson. always 2 mph under the speed limit, always checking the mirrors, etc

he would do the exam completely perfectly, not a single point off, then as he's pulling into the dmv parking lot he hits the curb. getting a critical failure. and then his ass has to come back next week to test again

no one lets him live it down though!

kenny mccormick

you know what i think he'd get killed while taking the written test. it's not fair stan fails when no one ik fails it so i'm gonna make him fail too

it's going pretty well he's missed 4 but he's on the last stretch then the dmv gets a gas leak and he not only gets carbon monoxide poisoning but also misses every single other question because he has carbon monoxide poisoning and it makes you twitter weird

then he passes yay!

and honestly for the driving exam? he got from his dad a car basically built from spare parts from the junkyard, it has a mileage of 990,000, it takes 5 minutes to start, and the brake works maybe 60% of the time.

but he actually learns pretty well from both his dad and stan, who is the better driver. and then he goes into the dmv in his broken asf car for his exam

and he does NOT fail. kenny does NOT fail. he pulls into the parking lot, parks a little on the white line, and dmv guy is like that is your 14th error. congrats. you passed just barely

he passed!!!

eric cartman

yeah um the written test is a test. he would never pass that shit not because he can't but because he reads it and he makes up his own answer which is not in the answer key. then he selects one at random and misses it

he does pass the second time because he comes up with an elaborate scheme involving butters to cheat on the exam which works but took twice as much effort and thrice as much time to get done versus actually studying for the exam so like....

he always takes the theatrically interesting way out, i suppose

now for the driving test. of course, no question, he fails three times and has to take the written test again. only person to do so in his friend group. and you want to know why?

every. single. driving exam. a minority walks by the crosswalk and without fail every single time he floors the gas and runs them over

yeah. that's right. eric cartman manslaughter. there's nothing else i can say because i'm sure this is self evident. i rest my case

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

ok, so- can i ask for some advice? i waited a week and a day with my new ball python and then tried to feed him. i made sure he was active (sitting on his climbing branch, even) and then warmed up his rat.

i didn’t warm it up super hot but he was interested anyways. he struck me first and then got a little intimidated when he kept missing. he finally wrapped it and left it alone a few times in which i had him wrap it again. i left him alone at least 30 mins and he had left the rat and suddenly was not interested. i tried to get him to get it again but just succeeded in stressing him out to point he was striking at everything that moved and trying to escape out his doors so i took him out for a few minutes to get him away from the rat smell in his enclosure and discourage the behavior.

first question- because he is hungry, and I don’t think it was a mistake with his enclosure or anything, should I still wait a week to feed him?

and second question- is there anything I messed up on that I can do better next time? should I heat up the rat more, fake a struggle by not letting go and holding it, or do you think it could’ve been too big? he’s been eating one small rat a week at a year old so I decided to give him meals a little bigger less often, but idk if that made him decide not to eat it.

any advice/help is extremely appreciated thank you!!!

First answer - yes, still wait a week before feeding him! It does sound like he was hungry, but the stress from repeated offerings too soon can cause refusals. Give him a week to chill and then try again, it won't hurt him one bit!

Second answer - I have a few tips for when you try again! First, I always advise against handling a snake during feeding attempt, it'll stress them out and is a really good way to get bitten.

I think the biggest problem you encountered is that the rat was indeed too big! It's always best to feed a new snake exactly what they've been eating until they're established (have taken at least 3 consecutive meals for you). Ball pythons can be a bit intimidated by switching to bigger meals - it's not uncommon to see test bites and wrapping and releasing when switching up sizes as the snake tests to make sure it's still food and tries to figure out how to eat it. A smaller meal will be much easier on your snake until they're established!

Before you offer again, double-check your perimeters just in case (humidity of at least 60% and temperature gradient of ~90-78). You'll want to be careful to avoid cooking the rat - if it's warm (not hot) to the touch, it's good. Some snakes will really respond if you hold onto the rat for a bit while they're constricting, but usually it doesn't matter. If he wraps and releases again, I recommend taking it back only if you're certain he's lost it (give him at least 10 minutes) and warming it back before re-offering.

Good luck! Really hoping he eats for you next time!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

I’m sure you’ve answered this before, but I scrolled through your Tumblr for an embarrassingly long time and wasn’t able to find a post on it so I thought I’d ask you (possibly, again) but please don’t feel any obligation to answer (which goes without saying), but: what is your secret? You’ve written 60 works in your fandom in 3 years — that’s insane! And they are such good quality writing! The prose, the plot, the dialogue, the characterization, everything. How do you do it? How do you find the time, because I assume you’re an adult with a job, etc. (this conclusion, dear reader, being the result of my aforementioned sleuthing) and how do you find the motivation? Sometimes I come back from work, and if I even manage to make it in before 8 pm, I’m still a zombie staring at the wall. Do you plot? Do you outline? If you outline, do you have a specific way of outlining? How long do you spend on a first draft? I’m sorry, I want to know EVERYTHING, because I’m so impressed, not just by your stories or your writing or your storytelling, but your CONSISTENCY — I’ve been writing 30 years and it takes me so so long to produce any type of writing (100 words can take me a whole week) . Having said that, obviously no pressure at all to answer this, in which case, just know that I find your writing magic 🥰

I feel like I've answered all of these in bits and pieces over the years.

answer below the cut cause it's kinda long

yes, I'm adult lmao, but an adult with a job where I'm high up enough that I often have a ton of excess time during the work day, which I'll use to write. Notice how my fics are usually updated on a Tuesday or Thursday? It's because I work from home those days. Now, does my job also have periods of intense stress where I end up not writing for a full week because my brain is too numb? Yes, absolutely.

on the topic of writing quckly, I've explained it like this before: when I'm doing something mundane like driving or showering or work or whatever, I think about my stories constantly, and therefore by the time I sit down to write, I've watched the movie version play out in my head dozens of times and so all I need to do is type it out. Writing is my creative outlet, stress relief, and therapy all in one.

Do I plot? In my head, absolutely. I always know the end of a story when I start it. How I get there may shift and change, but usually not the main plot points, and I've very rarely deviated from my original ending. The only one I can genuinely think of is help me out. The main killer changed about halfway through, as did what Jon chooses to do with his life at the end.

Do I outline? I try. My current outline for saddest summer is just "chapter 5 - festival". Like plotting, I tend to do it all in my head. If I type out an outline, it's a stream of conscious set of words and thoughts and possibly phrasing I want to use. there's no bullet points or anything like that

I'll be honest and say I don't really know what people ever mean by drafts. I just start writing the chapter and I'll usually reread what I've written before continuing to write, so the first part of a chapter is always the most edited. One shots I tend to write in one go, read it over once, then post it.

I've seen other people on here talk about writing like it's some elegant craft, whereas I feel like I throw a bunch of nonsense at the wall and call it art. I feel like my writing is as chaotic and random and last minute as my home renovations are, but somehow both always turn out alright. I'm really just here to have fun and hopefully other people can have fun reading what I write!

Also, you say 60 fics, but remember that 30 of them are one shots I did for events/prompts, and about 10 more are 2/3 chapters only. Also my stories in general tend to average about 10 chapters, which is also how I get so many written. I don't enjoy writing super long fics (though I have no problem reading longer fics?) When I was first starting out, I posted waaaayyyy more frequently, especially with the events here on Tumblr that aren't really a thing anymore. Now I average a chapter a week