#lefty talks about wrestling

[bubblegumlefty]

Idk why, but as I was watching Matt Hardy VS Hook, this idea suddenly ran through my mind. If Jeff were to ever return to AEW someday, he should be allowed to do a complete 180 heel turn. Like imagine for a second; we can have it play out like the way Matt turned on Jeff back in the late 2000s (during the royal rumble) have Jeff make a return on either Dynamite or a payperview and let the audience think everything's all cheery and heartwarming reunions, only to have him completely blindside everyone by attacking Matt. Reason why? Jealousy, but not for the reasons you think. It's not really because of stardom or fame, but more so the fact that his older brother was actually able to successfully keep his livelyhood together despite his constant injuries in the ring. Meanwhile, with the injuries and legal problems he's faced over the past year (to the point where he's suffered a legit concussion for crying out loud!) Jeff grows increasingly hostile from everything that's happened to him and finally puts his foot down, making the decision to stop catering to the fans and stop being the risky charasmatic enigma he's been known for years. He's done being, quote on quote, "everyone's favorite rag doll." He stops using the Swanton Bomb, as he feels that the fans don't really deserve to see it anymore, thinking they only seem to really still watch him just for the crazy stunts he pulls, while not seeming to care if it causes him legit back breaking pain from performing it every single week. He does tease it from time to time, only to spite the fans by not performing the finisher. He creates a safer moveset for himself, maybe changes up his look (TNA 2010-2011 anyone?), and overall becomes more cynical and hostile to almost everybody, fans and co-workers alike. If nobody's going to take his chronic injuries seriously, then why should he continue catering to their demands each and every week? Thus, he only works part-time and only shows up on special occasions. (This way, it can kinda prevent him from causing any more accidental harm to himself in the future and give him an easier time in the ring overall.)

So basically, what we have will be a heel Jeff VS a babyface Matt, who desperately wants his little brother changed back to the smiling, kind-hearted man he's always known him for. Now you have the feud set up. 😁

Like, seriously, if we weren't able to get Jeff VS Punk, then this here is the next best thing...

I could actually make a legit story out of this... 🤔

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Huh. Okay so going by your recent post idealizing Judaism to an unhealthy degree is such a common problem there’s a name for it. How does someone unpack whether that’s what they’re doing?

Hi there,

That's a great question! I think it can be a little tricky, because there's some nuances that may tip behavior from "okay" to "not okay" or vice versa that are not immediately obvious to an outsider. There are also plenty of gray areas, where some Jews are delighted by the person's expression of interest, and others have concerns.

I think for me, the thing I see most from genuinely well-meaning gentiles who are otherwise good allies is a fixation on certain parts of Judaism or Jewish identity that neatly fit into existing leftist ideals, but that either aren't as universal as they are claiming or are very niche in the scheme of Judaism as a religion. Oftentimes, what will happen is that lefty Jews (i.e., most American Jews, and certainly a large majority of jumblr) will be talking about this exceptionally progressive stance from ancient Jewish texts, or some niche thing that is meaningful to us, which will then get picked up and distorted rapidly to: This Is What The Jews Think About ____. Efforts to add nuance or complications after the fact are then treated like conservative talking points or party poopers who don't want the Good Jews to Have Nice Things. Eventually, even the "Good Jews" will typically get sick of the lack of nuance, but by that point it's way too late and people are no longer listening. It's much less likely to blow up than the original post, and so you end up with misinformation and discourse being passed around *about* us that no longer *includes* us and our petty insistence on nuance or countering facts.

People also struggle to shut down some of these misconceptions because hey - at least they like us right now and we're being considered (finally) to be Appropriately Leftist. (Something that is often difficult for Jews to find inclusion in, despite being overwhelmingly left-leaning.)

I've seen this happen around so many things: abortion, women's sexuality, queerness, transness, the so-called "6 Talmudic genders," Jewish atheism, Jews wrestling with G-d, Hell, Yiddish language, etc.

I guess what I'd say to avoid it is this: before you hop on a new idea to you from a post that goes something like "holy Frick did you know that Jews believe in [idk, e.g.] women's right to orgasms!" Maybe look up sources first before reblogging and spreading that information as legitimate. It's probably more complicated than that, and the misinformation can cause real harm. See: the harm caused to intersex Jews re: the 6 Talmudic genders.

Here is an article about other issues with philosemitism by someone who I know and respect:

Here is another article to add nuance to this discussion as well:

[finalvortex]

Cyan.

Meteor shower, quick, take cover But the hues in our hair complement one another I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones 'Cause blue's your favorite color

Cavetown, 'Meteor Shower'

To be honest, I can't tell the difference between cyan and blue very well, so some of the examples between these might be mixed up a bit (some of the ice scenes I talked about in the blue posts might fit better here?)

Like the other colors, cyan is introduced to us before we see the actual character combination it represents.

The first time we see cyan is in Contagi-Anne - the Peak of Health.

The water is still a little green here, admittedly, but not nearly as green as it was in, say, Best Fronds.

Hop Pop's wrestling outfit in Hop-Popular is also cyan.

It's the outfit he wears when he stands up for the citizens of Wartwood. When he makes his declaration that all of this is about more than just him. It's also the outfit he's wearing when the citizens rally to show their support and get him the new stall.

Cyan is also present in the glowing butterflies that surround the Mossman.

We know that Mossmen are quite capable of growing plants, and it's also possible that they have healing properties - I'd like to remind you of this exchange:

Wally: I seen it once. Deep in the moors where it makes its home and feeds on mist. Skin of moss, it had. Took me hand clean off, it did. Anne: You have both your hands, Wally. Wally: [gasps] Lefty! When did you get back?

Cyan, therefore, is a color that represents healing. It represents life and growth. And it represents comradeship and rapport.

It's the Marcanne color.

The entire scene where Anne and Marcy reunite is so extremely cyan. It's an entire six minutes of Marcy at the Gates where they are completely framed by a blue sky (note that Amphibia's sky is usually slightly green) and the lagoon surrounding Newtopia. It must be very cathartic for Anne to see Marcy again, especially after how worried she was about her at the start of the episode.

Marcy's bedroom is a mixture of blue, cyan, and occasional purple, but I thought this shot in particular was cyan.

And there's one other, very, very, important thing that's cyan.

Life. Growth. Healing. Supporting others.

Anne's power.

[mascwhump]

Chapter 1: Hillside

Well, here it is! First piece of work with these guys that I’m publishing. It’s not great but I’m confident enough to post it. Let me know what you think!

TW: blood, guns, general military stuff

Tag list: @whumpasaurus101

-

Charlie sat on the basement floor, humming along to the music he was playing from his phone. He meticulously loaded bullets into the magazines, completely immersed in the repetitive motions. He finished just in time for Crow to call him up for dinner.

“Pasta again?” Adrian complained.

“Maybe if you had gone into town like I asked, we would have something else to eat,” Crow snapped back.

Charlie took his seat at the table. He filled his plate with the butter covered spaghetti. Ethan slid into the room on his socks, crashing into the back of a chair. Nobody made a comment, as this was normal behavior.

“Where are you at with our gear?” Adrian asked Charlie with mouthful of food. Crow shot him a glare from across the table.

“All set. Just finished loading the mags,” Charlie answered.

After dinner, Charlie helped Ethan wash the dishes. They finished in record time, as getting to bed as soon as possible was a priority. They were leaving at 2 A.M. to meet Deke at the helipad.

The plan consisted of Charlie posted up on a hill, overseeing the ZETA compound with his sniper rifle. Adrian and Crow were to head into the building, download some files from a computer, and get the hell out of there. Ethan was to stay on the helicopter with Deke at the exfil point.

The alarm buzzing at 12:30 made Charlie’s eyes shoot open. He slapped his hand around the nightstand before finding the clock and switching it off. Soon, he was dressed and in the kitchen, cooking eggs from Adrian’s chickens. The others emerged from the basement with their gear, tossing it aside in the hallway when they realized food was on the table.

After eating, Charlie strapped on his vest and mentally went through the checklist to make sure he had all of his gear. After shoving a knife in his boot and a pistol by his hip, he reached for the face paint and slathered it on. Finally, they loaded the gear into the Jeep and headed toward the helipad.

The safe house was deep in the woods, miles from the city. It sat not too far from a lake, where the team would spend R&R time when on standby. The helipad was also secluded, located in a clearing about 3 miles from the safe house. The road they took was hardly maintained; it was incredibly rare to see anyone else on it, especially at the hours they traveled.

Once they arrived, Deke was leaning against his bird, smoking a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Adrian said.

“Want one?” Deke offered.

“Fuck yeah I do,” Adrian replied.

The team loaded themselves, along with their gear, into the helicopter. The blades whirled to life and they put on the headphones that allowed them to communicate with each other. Adrian flicked the cigarette out as they lifted off.

“That’s how forest fires start,” Ethan said flatly.

Adrian shrugged in response.

“Alright, we’ve got about two hours. Let’s go over the plan again,” Crow spoke.

Charlie was awoken by a kick to his boot.

“Five minutes out,” Adrian spoke.

Charlie grabbed his rifle, checking it one last time to make sure it looked good. He went through the checklist once more in his head to be positive that he had everything.

Deke brought the bird down in a clearing two miles from the compound. Charlie, Adrian, and Crow jumped out, switching on their comms.

“We’ll be here,” Deke said.

The team made their way into the forest, heading South. Crow and Adrian swept the area with their rifles, and Charlie followed behind. They weren’t expecting anyone this far from the compound, but you could never be too safe. Finally, they reached the top of the hill, where Charlie was to remain.

“Good luck,” he wished them, patting them both on the back before they went off.

Charlie laid his rifle down in the grass, standing it up on its bipod. He got settled in a prone position before looking through the scope to find Crow and Adrian. Soon, they appeared at the bottom of the hill, carefully making their way toward the building.

“Got you in my scope,” Charlie spoke.

“10-4,” Crow replied.

Two guards stood outside the door they planned to go in. Charlie watched as they took them down silently and dragged their bodies behind a truck. They changed into the uniforms of the enemy before heading back to the building. The door was unlocked.

As Charlie could no longer track his team, he scanned the surrounding area, checking for any guards. The perimeter was clear.

“Found a computer. Downloading data now. This’ll take about 5 minutes,” Adrian relayed in a hushed tone.

“10-4. Building perimeter is clear,” Charlie replied.

A minute passed. Then two. Then three.

Then the alarm sounded.

“Talk to me, Lefty,” Charlie spoke, “what’s going on?”

“They must’ve detected the download. We’re leaving. Is our exit clear?” Crow replied.

“Exit’s clear,” Charlie answered.

He scanned the area around the exit, ready to pick off anybody who would be in the way.

“Fuck, we’re compromised! Go!” Crow yelled.

Suddenly, multiple men appeared outside, pouring out of every door. Charlie began picking them off one by one. The soldiers looked around frantically, trying to find the origin of the shots.

“Flame, get out!” Adrian screamed over the comms, gunfire crackling through the speaker.

“They haven’t seen me yet, keep heading toward the exit!” Charlie replied as he continued to fire.

He was able to pick off a few more before a sharp pain blew through his right shoulder. He dropped the rifle, his hand flying to his shoulder. Pushing himself along the ground, he abandoned his rifle in favor of cover behind a large rock. When he pulled his hand away from his shoulder, he observed the blood soaking his glove.

“I’ve been hit,” he grunted into the comms.

“I told you to go! Right, right! Go right!” Crow yelled in response.

Charlie leaned up against the rock and retrieved the pistol from his holster. He thought about using a tourniquet, but the wound was too far up. Instead, he used his left hand to keep pressure on it, and held the gun in his right. It was incredibly painful to hold up his arm to aim, but he had no choice. He listened carefully to his surroundings.

“Give me a sitrep,” he breathed.

“Trying to find another exit,” Adrian replied, “it’s- ah shite,“

“Scotch? What’s going on?” Charlie yelled, “Scotch? Lefty? Talk to me!”

The radio went quiet. Charlie ears strained; it wasn’t a matter of if he would be found, it was a matter of when. He pressed deeply on the wound, doing anything he could to control the bleeding. The sudden crunching of leaves made him jerk toward the noise. He pointed his gun to the trees, waiting. The sound became closer and more hurried. His finger rested above the trigger, ready to fire.

“Charlie!” Ethan gasped, stumbling out of the trees.

Charlie set down his pistol, relieved to see his friend. Ethan ran over to him and immediately inspected the wound.

“Shit, there’s no exit wound,” he sighed as he took over the job of applying pressure.

“Have you heard from them? My comms are dead,” Charlie asked.

Ethan shook his head. “They went silent. We have to get you back to the helicopter,” he answered.

“No. We can’t go without them,” Charlie protested.

“You’re losing too much blood,” Ethan argued back.

Then, a bullet whizzed past their heads, missing them by just inches.

“Hold your fire!”

A group of about six men approached, guns raised and ready to fire. Charlie rested his hand on his pistol, watching them.

“He wants them alive.”

The color drained from Ethan’s face as the men continued toward them, standing just feet away. Without hesitation, Charlie picked up the gun and fired in their direction, hitting one of the men in the chest. Another soldier lunged forward, pushing Ethan out of the way before wrestling the pistol from Charlie’s hand.

“Please, he’s hurt,” Ethan begged, placing his hands back on the wound.

“We’ll take care good care of your friend,” a solider said, stepping forward.

In one movement, the shoulder of his rifle met the side of Ethan’s head, instantly rendering him unconscious. Charlie sprang to his feet while ripping the knife from his boot. The sharp pain in his shoulder hindered his attack. He jumped at the solider, missing his chance to sink the knife in. He was forced to the ground, and the last thing he saw was a boot coming toward his face.

[noladyme]

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 15

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @edonaspanca​

15

I wrapped up my phone in the kitchen towel and the bag again; and went into the yard; leaving it in the small shed there. Walking back inside; I looked meaningfully at Jax. “She has what she needs…”, I said. He nodded, and pulled me into his arms again. “Last night…”, I muttered into the crook of his neck. He shook his head. “Not the last. I’ll be back”. I sighed. “A year, Jax…”. “Just keep my side of the bed cold”, he smiled. I put my lips to his; looking deep into his eyes. “Not tonight”, I whispered.

Jax put his hands under my bottom; and lifted me to straddle him. Smiling all the way; he carried me to the bedroom – lowering me onto the bed; hovering over me. “I love you”, he smiled. I put my hand behind his neck; and pulled him closer to me. “I love you too”, I said, and our lips met.

For the longest time, we just kissed. Our lips perfectly molded, and our tongues gently brushed against each other. When our lips weren’t connected; we where whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears.

“The first time you got behind me on my bike; I had to shift in my seat to keep anyone from seeing my hardon”, Jax grinned. “Really?”, I smiled. “Yeah. Gemma was gonna send Rat over with those papers for you to sign. I snatched them up, to take them to you myself. Just wanted to see your face again”. I chuckled. “Well, I gave you more than you bargained for, huh?”. “Darlin’; seeing you in nothing but that towel…”. His hand travelled under my top, to brush his fingers across my belly. “Sent some very impure thoughts through my mind”. He kissed the secret spot on my neck. I shivered under his touch. “I kept telling myself; you can’t have sex with the biker!”, I grinned. “I’m happy you decided to break that vow”, Jackson breathed; and sat up to remove his t-shirt.

I sat up myself; and began kissing Jax across his chest; letting my tongue flicker over his nipple. He let out a small gasp; and tugged at the hem of my top; to remove it. With my arms in the air, he pulled it over my head. He smirked softly. “You wore this bra the first time we slept together”. “I forgot”, I smiled. “I think I was more focused on you taking it off”. He raised a brow and tilted his head. “Well, I was happy to”, he leered. “Let me get at them…”.

He grinned, and expertly snapped open my bra; pulling it off me. He pushed me down on the mattress; and pushed my breasts together; nibbling slightly at my right nipple. He ran his teeth over it; and I whimpered from the signals it sent to my core. “Righty is happy… let’s check lefty”, he snickered; and repeated the action on my left nipple. “She’s perking up…”. “Mmhmm”, I moaned. I ran my nails across the reaper on his back; and he let out a slight groan.

“How many orgasms did I promise you?”, he breathed. “A shitload”, I panted. He chuckled; and lowered himself to the waistline of my shorts; kissing across my skin just above it. “Let’s get these off”. He unbuttoned the shorts; and tugged them down my hips and bottom; having me raise it, so he could remove them and my panties all at once.

I was stretched out naked under him; and he sat on his knees; straddling my legs. He looked me over – his eyes soft and admiring. “Your body… baby…”. Jax lowered himself onto me; and kissed me deeply. Moving his lips down; he ran his hands over my mounds, my ribs and hips – all while letting his mouth explore my chest, belly; and finally ending up just over my warmth.

“I’m gonna be thinking about this every time I eat prison-jello…”, he smirked; and slid his tongue over my nub. “You telling me I taste like jello?”, I whimpered – body twitching under his touch. “No, I hate jello”, he grinned up at me. “I’m gonna be thinking of this, to block out the taste of it”. He slicked a trace from my clit to my entrance, and back again. “You taste like… sunshine… ice cream… and tasty, tasty pussy”. I laughed; before a flick of his tongue made me cry out in extasy. I grabbed on to his hair; and panted heavily; as he buried his face in my folds.

Jax grabbed my knees; and put them over his shoulders, to give him better access to me. He slid his thumb into me for a second; before trailing it down my taint – finally probing the ring of muscle behind my genitals. The action made me jolt; and squeal. It felt so good to have him stimulating all of my privates like that. His thumb entered my ring just slightly. “Someday, baby”, he breathed against me. “Keep dreaming, Teller…”, I moaned. “That’s not… Oh my god!”. I cried out; as his thumb entered my hole down to the knuckle. He chuckled against me. “You want me to stop?”. “You… oh, no. Keep going… don’t…”. Jax sucked hard on my clit. His free hand found my main entrance; and two fingers began pushing at my front wall.

The intense sensation of his fingers working on me; and his tongue playing with my nub, as he sucked it into his mouth – sent me over the edge; and I literally screamed out his name; as I came with violent shocks streaming through my body.

Jackson carefully withdrew his fingers, and ran his hand up my body; as he came up to lay next to me. My body was still convulsing. “Are you ok?”, he whispered; with a wide smile on his handsome face. “I… can’t talk…”, I croaked. Jax laughed; and kissed me gently. ”Can I get you anything?”, he smiled. I managed to relax my breathing; and smirked at him. “Already?”. He grinned in surprise. “Just take your pants of, Jackson!”, I chuckled.

Jackson looked like a giddy teenager; and jumped out of bed – wrestling his pants and boxers off. He threw himself on the bed; and sat himself with his back to the headboard. I looked down at his wanting hardness; and bit my lip. Straddling him; I lowered myself down on it. Jax’s face contorted. “Holy sh… baby…”, he gasped. I put my hand against the headboard, and began riding him. His hands found my breasts, and he hold on to me for dear life; as I grinded against his groin.

I clenched my walls around him; drawing loud groans from his mouth. “How do you do that?”, he asked. “It’s like sex and a handjob all at… woah!”. I’d clenched my muscles again. “Wouldn’t want you to forget me”, I smiled. He leant forwards; and met my lips. “Never gonna happen”, he growled.

He wrapped his arms around my back; and threw me down to lay on my back. I lifted my leg, to let him put my knee over his shoulder. Jackson began thrusting into me with force. He was hitting my g-spot perfectly. “You found it again”, I whimpered with a laugh. “Oh god…”. I put my hands on Jax’s bottom; digging my fingers into its firmness – desperately trying to force him harder into me. “More?”, he breathed. I closed my eyes, and nodded. With a grunt; Jackson pounded into me fiercely – almost making me sob from the amazing sensation. He looked at me worriedly. “Too much? Are you ok?”. “Keep going”, I pleaded. He brushed my lips with his own; and pounded into me again.

Jax put his hand to my throat, and squeezed gently. Every inch of my body was on fire; and I let out a guttural sound, that then turned in to another scream. My body tensed; and I came again. Jackson thrusted hard into me; riding out my orgasm; to reach his own – finally finishing with a growl of relief, and coming inside me.

Kissing my lips gently; he laid down next to me. The air was heavy with sex, love – and sadness. “Why does it feel like forever?”, Jackson muttered. “Because it might as well be…”, I croaked. He turned his body; and pulled me close; kissing my temple. “Did… did anyone ever tell you about a prison-clause?”, he muttered. “No…”, I said. “Thank god!”, he smiled. I chuckled. “I think I know what it means, from the name…”, I whispered. “And that’s not going to be an issue. Juice will be on the inside with you”.

My joke instantly made Jackson laugh; and he attacked my mouth with rough kisses. “I told you!”, he grinned. “Don’t joke about that!”. He squeezed my ass cheek and growled into the crook of my neck. “Yes, sir”, I giggled.

Lust took us over again; and Jax delivered on his promise. I spent the night having a shitload of orgasms.

---

When we woke up; we didn’t speak. We merely got dressed, and ready to leave. There wasn’t anything to say, after all. The plan was set; and now was the time to strike. Jax kissed me deeply; and we got on his bike, to drive to TM. A black escalade followed us closely; parking a little way down the street from the lot.

The parking spots were mostly empty, save for Clay’s, Happy’s and Juice’s bikes. The door to the garage was closed; and I guessed more motorcycles where hold up in there. Inside the clubhouse, all of Samcro – except Tig, who had already said goodbye, and was waiting in the warehouse with Quinn and the Nomads – where waiting. Chicago – including VP Mike – where gathered in a corner – solemnly looking at us, as we stepped into the room. Unser was leaning against the bar. The badge usually adorning his uniform, was gone. He looked content.

“It’s time”, Jax said. He, Happy and Juice were all wearing blue jeans and black hoodies; dark scarves hanging around their necks. “Nichols will be at the warehouse in an hour and a half; giving us time to get there, switch, and start the chase”. “They won’t try to take us in, before we reach it?”, Happy asked. “No. Stahl will want me and the drugs. We’ll be safe until we get there”, Jackson answered. “Just don’t make too much of a ruckus on the lot”.

“We got your back, son”, Clay said. “You mother told me to say she loves you… Abel’s in safe hands”. Jax looked at me. “I know he is”. They embraced; and Clay stroked my cheek. “See you on the other side, teach’”, he smiled. I returned the gesture. “Will do”.

Unser shook Jax’s hand. “The phone is in the shed in our yard”, Jax said. “I got it, kid”, the old man said. “How does retirement smell?”, Jax smiled. “Like stale beer and motor oil”, Unser grinned.

Opie came over, and hugged Jax. “Lyla send her love to both of you”. He turned and hugged me. “Thanks, man”, Jackson muttered. He began embracing all his brothers in turn; Happy and Juice doing the same. “Have a cold one ready for me when I get back”, Juice said to Chibs; who had tears running down his cheeks. He patted his brother’s cheek. “Two of them”, he said. “And the ginger from the gas-station”. Juice grinned in glee.

Jax pulled the scot in for another hug. “Take care of my family for me, brother”. “We will”, Chibs said, and wiped his eyes. “We got ‘em”, Opie agreed. Jax sent a loving smile to his best friend. “Thanks”.

Piney grabbed me into a warm embrace. “Stay safe, sweetheart”, he muttered; before patting Jax’s shoulder.

Bobby came over with what looked like a black vest. He kissed my cheek, and handed it to me. “Put this on, sweetheart… just in case”. He pulled it over my head; and Jax strapped the velcro straps across my chest. “Bulletproof”, he muttered – looking grave. “I’ll be ok”, I whispered. 

He stroked my cheek, and kissed my forehead. “You ride with them, just like you do with me”, he said seriously. “Hold on tight, and keep your head down”. “We got her, man”, Happy said. Juice nodded. Jackson stepped back. “Ok… let’s do this”. He pulled the blue flannel out of the bag we’d brought; and I put it on, closing the buttons over the Kevlar vest, to hide it from view.

The three future felons each grabbed a brown package from a table; and strapped it to their torsos with duct tape – making sure they wouldn’t drop the drugs needed to take them in.

“Make it look real, boys”, Clay exclaimed with a smile. Jax nodded and grabbed my hand – taking a deep breath. “Go!”.

Happy, Juice, Jax and I ran out the door. Jax pulled me with him to his bike; looking towards the street, where the agents were waiting. He pulled me flush against his body; kissing me with passion, before handing me my helmet. I put it on. Seconds later, Clay, Opie, Chibs and Bobby came running after us. “Jax!”, Clay roared after us; and pulled his gun. The three others pulled their own weapons, and aimed them at our group. Happy pulled his own gun; and shot in their direction – missing on purpose. The men chasing us fell to the ground, covering their heads.

We jumped on the bikes – my arms firmly locked around Jacksons torso – and we sped out of the lot, and down the street. We were going to fast for me to look back, but I noticed Juice looking back, from where he was riding next to us - and he nodded at Jax; before trailing in behind us. They’re following us. Stahl is coming.

We drove past the sign at the beginning of town – and left Charming behind.

---

Speeding through stop-signs and down the highway, the wind was blowing in my ears. I had made myself leave fear behind. This wasn’t the time to go into anxiety-mode – and I had full trust in the man I was currently holding on to.

After about 30 minutes, we neared a cluster of trees, marking the edge of forestland. “Hold on!”, Jax yelled; and made a sharp turn. We continued down smaller roads; Happy and Juice constantly zigzagging behind us, to cover my back from the agents trailing us.

I saw a small sign telling me we where nearing somewhere called Oswald’s Pond. We made another sharp turn, down a gravelly road – small bumps sending jolts through the bike. I held on harder to Jax. “You’re doing great, baby!”, he yelled back at me. Happy came up next to us. “We lost them”, he yelled. Jax nodded.

Another turn, down an even smaller road; led us to a small building – the warehouse. A double door opened, and we got inside on the bikes – the door closing behind us again. Tig was waiting for us, with the Nomads; wearing the same outfit as his brothers. Jax jumped off the bike; and turned to face me. “I love you!”, he said, his eyes fierce – and he kissed me deeply one last time, before turning to Tig. “Take care of her, man”. “I will, brother”, Tig nodded – all jest gone from his usually cheery face.

Quinn handed me a backpack. I recognized it as Ellies. It was filled with something – giving it some weight and fill.

Happy, Juice and Tig pulled up their hoods, put on sunglasses; and lifted their scarves to cover their faces. “Go!”, Jax yelled; and Tig jumped on his bike in front of me. “Hold on, puddin’!”, he said; and I put my arms around him.

Jax smiled encouragingly at me; and went to open the doors at the other end of the building. I looked back at him a final time before he closed the door behind us, as we sped out.

I love you, Jackson.

---

We sped back down the road we’d arrived on, suddenly hearing sirens in the distance. Tig was a good driver; but I couldn’t help but feel my heart in my throat. I grabbed on to his hoodie - digging my fingers into the fabric. “Doing good, Cat!”, he yelled.

Happy and Juice followed closely behind us, until we made the sharp turn back onto the larger gravel road. The sirens where growing louder, and I could hear them multiply. There was more than one car trailing us. The two other bikes began zigzagging behind me again; before we took one more turn, leading us onto asphalt. Tig made a hand gesture to tell the others to speed up.

“ATF! Pull over!”, someone was yelling from a loudspeaker on one of the cars. Happy – or Juice; I couldn’t tell from the speed and their masks – trailed up next to me and Tig; before making a hand-gesture himself. This one was a middle finger to our pursuers. I heard Tig let out a loud laugh; and I joined in myself.

Suddenly, we split up. Tig and I went down a smaller road, with one of the others; and the last rider continued forward. We met up minutes later at larger road. The single rider had made some distance to one of the cars; which was struggling to keep up.

We hit a speedbump; making me jump in my seat. Just like with Jax… Just like with Jax…

Tig turned down another small road. This one led us into an industrial area, filled with small buildings. Stopping the bike; Tig pulled his gun. “Switch!”, he yelled. He shot at the following cars; and I jumped off the bike, running towards Juice, who was waving me over. He would be the second Jax.

Climbing on behind him, I held on to his torso; and he sped behind a building – before doubling back; and driving in between two of the cars following; forcing them to swerve. Juice drove us back onto the road, before taking a turn down towards a junction. Tig and Happy had disappeared behind some of the other buildings, and came from two different roads to join us. We drove together, taking turns every chance we got.

I had no idea where in the county we were – merely held on to Juice for dear life. “It’s gonna get bumpy!”, Juice yelled, and took a turn down another gravel road. No shit!, I thought. The road we were on was more an animal path than anything else – surrounded by trees. Mud splayed up my leg, when we hit a puddle. “Sorry”, Juice yelled.

I saw one of the other riders a through the trees a good 30 paces from us. He had a car right on his ass; and turned back to shoot for the tires of it. The car swerved; and hit a tree. “Woo!”, I heard the rider yell.

Once through the trees, the path ended; and we were back on asphalt. Two cars where blocking our way; and Juice had to make a hard brake; putting his foot to the ground, to turn us around fast. “Stop!”, we heard from the loudspeaker. I heard a loud pop; and Juice flinched in front of me. One of the other riders almost took a spill; but managed to get up in time to follow us. We split up again.

The two other drivers headed in separate directions, and Juice once again took us off road – heading over a grassy field, towards what looked like an abandoned farm. Happy was already waiting for us by the main house. “Come on!”, he roared, and Juice halted. He doubled over for a second, holding his hand over his thigh. Blood was running from a hole in his jeans. I put my hand on his arm, looking at him in fear. “I’m ok. Go!”, he yelled at me – and I tore myself from my bleeding friend – running towards Happy, and getting on behind him. “Let’s go, princess”, Happy growled, and we once again sped off.

I looked back towards Juice. He’d managed to start driving again; but his body-language was strained. He was in real pain from the gunshot. Happy drove us straight through an old barn, shooting back towards the following cars. This man had no mercy when it came to his friends getting hurt. “Assholes”, he roared.

Tig met us on the other side of the barn, trailing up next to us. “Last stretch!”, he yelled. He and Juice returned to zigzagging behind us, before once again taking a turn in separate directions. At this point, the agents following us seemed to have no idea which rider was Jax, and focused on getting all three of them.

We needed to create some distance to be able to hand over the backpack to Clay safely; without getting shot at. Happy gave made his bike give it all; and for a second it felt like I was going down a rollercoaster. We hit a bump, and took air for a second. My strained squeal was blocked out by Happy’s cheerful Whooo!.

He suddenly made a drifting turn; and we were head on with our pursuer. “What are you doing?”, I yelled. “Chicken”, he laughed. Oh, shit! Happy sped up, and leant forward; revving the engine. With a squeal of the back tire, we suddenly flew down the road – head to head with the car. “Come get me, shithead!”, Happy growled. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes.

The sirens came closer, and the wind was blowing around my head. I held on to Happy harder than I had ever held on to anything in my life. “Jerk alert!”, Happy yelled; and I opened my eyes, just in time to see the car swerve off the road, and off the road, hitting a large boulder. “Yeah!”, happy whooped, and we left behind the totaled vehicle.

Turning down a larger road, Tig and Juice met up with us again. All three bikers where laughing loudly. “Lost ‘em a mile back!”, I heard Juice yell. “It’s time!”, Happy answered. Tig sped up, and drove in front of us, and led us to an exit, down a hill. At the bottom of it, a group of bikes where blocking our path.

Clay, Chibs, Bobby and Opie where waiting for us. They were all aiming their guns at us. We made a halt; and with sirens nearing, we slowly got off the bikes; hands in the air. Out the corner of my eye, I saw one of the cars stopping; and people getting out. I’d recognize the bony ass on one of them anywhere. Stahl.

“It’s over, assholes”, Clay smirked. “Hand over the bag…”. I saw Stahl put up her hands to stop her underlings from shooting. She wanted the handoff to happen. I could practically smell her gleeful sweating, over catching the president of Samcro with drugs in his hands.

I slowly walked towards Clay, and took off the backpack – handing it to him. “That’s it, sweetheart”, he said. “We got it”, he muttered below his breath.

Stahl came running forward, three agents at her heels. “Hands in the air!”, she yelled. We all raised our hands. “Guns down”, she demanded. The men in front of us all slowly dropped their weapons on the ground; kicking them away. Clay glared at Stahl, as she walked up to him. “Well, Mr. Morrow”, she grinned. “Seems we caught you with something you shouldn’t have. Give me the bag”. Clay handed her the backpack; and a smile ghosted his face.

Stahl set the bag on the ground, and while her men aimed their guns at us; she opened it. Her jaw dropped. “What the hell is this?”, she said; holding up a book. “Where are the drugs?”. “No drugs…”, Clay said. “Samcro doesn’t deal in drugs”. “Then why were you chasing them?”, she hissed. “She stole my kids favorite book…”, Opie said. Stahl threw the volume on the ground. It was the copy of Pippi Longstocking I’d given Ellie. I looked up at Opie; and the corner of his lips twitched.

“Shit!”, Stahl said. “Fine… We still got murder”. She turned to face the three masked bikers. “Jackson Teller, you are under arrest for the murder of Joshua Kohn. Anything you say, can and will…”. The three men began laughing. “What?”, she sneered. “Take those masks of them”.

The three agents removed the bikers glasses and masks; revealing Juice, Happy and Tig; all grinning and laughing at Stahl’s guffawed face. “Where is he?”, she yelled. She grabbed my arm. “Catherine, where is Jackson Teller?”. “I don’t know…”, I said – truthfully. “Search them”, she sneered. Within seconds, the agents had found the drugs strapped to the three men. They were all cuffed; and read their rights.

Clay shook his head in mock sadness. “Really, guys… I’m so disappointed in you all”. “Take the rest of them in for illegal gun possession”, Stahl growled. “All our guns are registered and legal; ma’am”, Bobby said. “Shit!”, Stahl screamed.

It was my time. “Agent Stahl?”, I said. “I’m willing to testify…”. I swallowed hard. “Against Jackson”. Her lips turned upwards in a terrifying smile. “Really?”. I nodded. “Yes… please, just get me out of here. I’m afraid!”. Stahl narrowed her eyes at me. “Take Huey, Dewey, and Louie back to Charming. I got miss Rose… The rest can go”.

I sent a look towards my three protectors. They all nodded at me knowingly. See you in a year. A smile ghosted my lips. I’d never be able to thank them enough.

I followed Stahl back to the car; and got in the backseat – letting her drive me back to Charming.

---

An hour later, I was back in the interview room at Charming PD – a cup of coffee and a pack of smokes in front of me. At this point, I was alone. I’m not going to jail. I’m going to take care of Abel for Jax. Be Momma Cat. I can do this.

Agent Stahl walked into the room with a file folder; and sat down in front of me. She tried for an encouraging look. “I’m happy you’ve finally decided to talk to me”, she said softly. “It’s just too bad it had to take such a chase to get us together… Did Jackson make you do that, to let him slip away?”. “Something like that”, I muttered. She nodded. “It’s hard, when you love someone that much… but he left you behind, kitty”. “Don’t call me that”, I snarled. She sighed. “Sorry… Catherine”. She smiled gently. “My agents are still looking for Mr. Teller. We will catch him; and once we do, he’s going to do hard time”. I looked up at her. “Yeah?”. Stahl nodded. “Yes. And you’re going to help me with that”.

I shrugged. “You already know everything… I know my phone was bugged”. She tilted her head. “If you did; why did you keep it around?”, she asked. “To set up Jackson?”. To set up you… “I… love him”, I said. “But you were also afraid”, she muttered. I nodded.

“Can I smoke?”, I asked. “Go ahead”, Stahl smiled. “I quit myself; but a little second-hand smoke once in a while, helps with the withdrawals”. Keep trying to be my friend, bitch. I lit my cigarette; and took a draw from it. “I don’t want to go to jail”, I said. “That doesn’t have to happen”, she smiled. “We both know Jackson killed Kohn… I have the recordings”. I nodded. “But you can’t use them”. She grimaced. “They weren’t exactly procured legally”.

I sighed. “So your case rests on me… and that guy who saw me”. “He’s out of the picture”, she grumbled. “I need your help”. I nodded. “If I help you; you’ll let me go, right?”. She smiled widely. “Ally Lowen already set up the papers. I have them right here”. She opened the folder, and took out a pen. “When I sign these, you’re free, as long as you agree to testify in court against Teller”. “Ok”, I whispered.

She reached for my hand; and I jolted in my seat. “I’m sorry… did he hurt you?”. I tried to stiffle my smirk. “He… gets a bit rough”. In bed… it’s heaven. “I understand”, she smiled. “Now, tell me everything, that happened that night”. Nope, can’t let you get it that easy. “I don’t… I still love him. It’s hard”. “He doesn’t care about you”, she said earnestly. “Do you know, how he talks about you when you’re not there?” I let my lip quiver. “You heard him?”, I whispered. She nodded, with a sad look in her eyes. “He calls you names. Calls you stupid…”. I looked down. “You heard everything… even when we…”. “Had sex… yeah”, she admitted – trying for a solemn look. Bet that got you off…

She leant back in her chair. “There was a long break, when I couldn’t hear anything… why was that?”. “Jax figured it was bugged… made me hide it. I told him it was fine; that I needed it in case my old job needed to get a hold of me”. “Right… I forgot”. She sighed. “I could help you with that… get your job back”. “Really?”. “Yeah… though, are you sure you want to stay in Charming? Samcro isn’t gone. You might not be safe”.

I sighed. “You’re right… ok”. I chewed my lip. “Can you get me out of here? Somewhere safe?”. She nodded. “I’ll get you into protective custody as soon as I’ve signed these papers”, she said, and gestured to the document in front of her. “But I need you to tell me what happened first. I need to know what you’ll say in court”.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. “Ok”, I said. “Joshua Stahl had been stalking me for over a year. He convinced me to go with him; when he threatened to put the ATF on Jax and the club”. I looked at her; trying to hide my disgust. “I went with him to that motel where you found me”. Where you knew I’d be. “Joshua was about to… rape me… when Jax arrived”. “Who was with him?”, she interrupted. Shit! “I don’t know…”, I said. “I was beat up and terrified. I only had eyes on Jax”. She nodded. “Then what?”. “Jackson pulled a gun, and shot Joshua. Killing him”.

She stared at me intently. “Where did he get the gun from?”. I handed it to him. “It was just there”, I muttered. “It was just there…”, she repeated. “Yes”, I whispered.

Stahl picked up the pen, and tapped it against the table for a moment – stalling. Keep calm. I took a deep draw from my smoke; waiting. “Will you repeat this in court, Catherine?”, she asked earnestly. No… no, no, no… “Yes”, I whispered.

She looked at me a moment longer; lifted the pen – and signed the documents, setting me free. I closed my eyes, and let out a deep breath. “You’re a free woman”, Stahl said. “Now let’s get you somewhere safe, ok?”. “Thank you”, I croaked. “No”, she said, taking my hand again. It was as clammy and cold as Joshua’s had been. “Thank you”.

An officer opened the door, and peaked inside. “Agent Stahl; all your men are still looking for Teller”, he said. “Do you need an escort for transport?”. She smiled, and shook her head. “No, us girls will be fine”.

We both stood up; and I was about to follow her out of the room; when I halted. “Agent Stahl?”. “Yes, Catherine?”, she asked. “How did you know where to find me?... with Kohn”. Her eyes flickered for a moment. “I was aware… that Kohn might not have had the best intentions for you. Made sure to know where he’d go”. I swallowed bile. “Why didn’t you stop him before he got to me?”, I asked. “Where you hoping Jax would show up?” Did you set him up, you rancid piece of shit? She narrowed her eyes at me. “I had every intention of getting to you in time… but I made sure that if I couldn’t, you’d still be saved”, she said. “Jax would want you back”.

I tried to control my breath. You did… you were going to let me get hurt, to get to Jax… you deserve everything you have coming your way.

---

We left the police station through the front door. Stahl didn’t seem very worried we’d be stopped by the club, or anyone else for that matter. I got in the back seat of the car we’d arrived in; and prepared mentally for the last stretch of the journey. Stahl seemed ecstatic, strumming her fingers on the wheel. It took everything I had, not reach in front of me; and slam her face into the windshield.

Once on the highway, tears began streaming down my face. Stahl caught my eyes in the mirror, and handed me a tissue. “It’s ok. He can’t get you anymore”.

Jax. At this point I had no idea where he was. I didn’t even know if his part of the plan had worked. The next time I saw him; I could be looking at him across a courtroom; forced to testify against him. I could be sending him to jail for the rest of both our lives. I wanted to scream.

Suddenly, I heard sirens. A police car was racing to catch up to us. “What the hell…?”, Stahl muttered. “What does he want?”. Unser pulled up next to us; gesturing for Stahl to pull over. At the next exit; she drove off – letting Unser pull up behind us. He exited his car; and walked up to her window.

“Agent Stahl!”, he smiled. “I’m gonna need you to let me take miss Rose back to Charming”. I exhaled in stutters. “What are you talking about?”, Stahl sneered. “I’m taking her into protective custody, up until Jackson Tellers trial…”. “There won’t be a trial”, Unser said.

Stahl got out of the car to join him on the side of the road. “I think dementia is getting to you, Unser”, she chuckled. “Just get back in your car…”. “Teller turned himself over to the state prosecutor on drug charges, just over an hour ago”, Unser said. “He’s in custody right now”. “Drug charges”, Stahl snarled. “Look; you don’t believe me – call this number…”. Unser pulled out my android from his pocket. “Use my phone…”. He dialed a number; and handed her the phone.

Unser looked at me meaningfully, and nodded. It’s done.

The agent snatched the phone from his hands, and put it to her ear. “This is agent Stahl… yes… You’re shitting me… No! My case is… That can’t override murder! My evidence… Put him on!... You listen here, you biker piece of shit, you can’t do this. You’re killing my career!”. She let out a roar; and threw the phone on the ground.

A group of bikes came driving down the road towards us. I opened the car door, and stepped out on the road. “Stay in the goddamn car, Catherine!”, Stahl growled. I walked over to my phone; and picked it up. “Jax…?”. My voice was quivering. “Cat… it’s me”, he breathed. “It’s over, baby… It’s over…”.

The bikes made a halt a few yards away; and suddenly we were surrounded by Clay, Mike, Chibs, Bobby and Opie. I looked at Stahl. “It’s over”, I whispered. “Baby, put me on speaker”, Jax said quietly. I pressed the screen, letting everyone around me hear what he had to say. “Agent Stahl?”. I looked at the wide-eyed woman who was shaking in her heels, at the sight of the angry men surrounding her. “She’s here”, I said. “Listen, agent. I’m sorry your case didn’t hold up. Like you heard; I’ve turned myself in, to the prosecutor. I’m about to be taken to state pen… I wish I could be there to see what happens next”. I could hear the smile in his voice.

Stahl looked at the phone with wild eyes. “You can’t do this”, she hissed. “Jackson… do you know what your brothers will do to Catherine, after what you did?”. She looked at me. A smile ghosted my face. “Cat?”, Jax said. His voice was now low – pained, but loving. “I got you something… I wanted to give it to you myself; but there wasn’t time”.

Clay stepped over to me; and reached out his hand to me. He dropped a white gold ring in my hand. It was shaped like a crow’s head, turned to the side; with its wing stretched backwards. The eye of the crow was a black sapphire. “It’s your crow”, Jax said. I chuckled. “When I come back; I’ll give you one to match. We’ll walk up the aisle together”. “Together”, I smiled; tears running down my cheeks. “I love you”. “I love you, Cat. Always will”. He sighed. “I have to go… Tell ‘em all... I’m happy it went down this way”. The men around me nodded solemnly. “They know”, I said. “Goodbye”. “Goodbye, Jackson”.

I hung up the phone, and wiped the tears from my face. I was calm. It was over – and everything was going to be ok. I put on the ring.

Stahl looked from my face; to the ring now resting on my left hand. “Are you crazy, Catherine?”, she hissed. “Do you know what these men will do to you? You flipped on a club member!”. Chibs walked over to me; and wrapped me in his arms; making Stahl’s jaw drop. “Are you all right, my love?”, he asked softly. “I will be”, I said quietly. He kissed my forehead.

Unser sauntered over to us. “Do you need a ride home, sweetie?”, he asked. “She’s got one, old man”, Clay grumbled. “You can go… thanks”. Unser nodded; and went back to his car, to drive away.

Stahl was reaching for her gun, but Bobby quickly aimed his own at her. “You can’t do this…”, she whimpered. “I’m not doing it”, he said. “He is”. He nodded his head towards Opie.

Opie’s face was unreadable. He looked at Stahl with indifferent eyes. “Opie…”, she whimpered. “You don’t have to do this…”. “You killed her…”, he said quietly. “I didn’t… It wasn’t me”, she said. “You… made it happen. Set her up to be killed. You would have done the same to Cat… my best friends future wife”. He shook his head softly. “Just to get what you wanted… No more”.

He looked towards me. “Do you want to see it?”, he muttered. “No… I don’t need to”, I said. I walked over to Stahl. Her eyes were wild. “Catherine… you can’t let this happen!”. I shook my head. “You let me get drugged – almost raped and killed… You just turned your back. So that’s what I will do”. “Go to hell!”, she snarled. “Right after you”. I turned my back; and walked away.

“Get in the car”, I heard Opie say. I went to stand and look down the road. Two car doors closed. There was a quiet muttering; and then a silent pop. I never turned around.

Clay came up to me. “Finish it, Cat”, he muttered. “What?”, I said. He handed me my .38 – the one Jax had given me – then looked down at the phone still in my hand. “Finish it”.

I took a deep breath; and put the phone on the ground in front of me. Cocking the hammer; I aimed at the last link between me; and the life I had left behind. “Goodbye, Josh”, I whispered – and pulled the trigger.

---

[signutai]

I didn’t actually end up sleeping last night so I guess it’s time for me to talk menswear, I say, opening up the Fallout wiki to the list of NV armors for reference. Takashi’s armor is his very own version of the classic NCR ranger vet armor everyone knows so well, more closely resembling the unique riot gears found in Lonesome Road than anything else, though clearly distinct from them. The duster is dyed a forest green, only barely desaturated, and reaches down to about just above his ankles for dramatic flair, with a high collar (enough to completely cover the back of his neck) and consisting of three layers: the original outer leather layer, along with a secondary layer of leather sewn into the inside and a layer of sturdy protective mesh sandwiched in between. It’s heavy and much more stiff than the similar armors, and when he’s in a tight spot he’ll usually just toss it aside for freer movement. No pockets on the outside; they’re all on the inside of the coat instead and he keeps his secrets there. There’s some spots of minor damage here and there, along with a few places where he’s sewn new leather over holes, and the ends of the coat itself are starting to come apart thanks to the repeated wear and tear associated with traveling the wastes, but overall he tries to avoid damaging it and makes sure to oil the leather when he can find any leather treatment materials--it overall lacks that dirty, dusty, and aged look the other riot gears tend to have. The pauldrons are similar in size to the elite riot gear’s, though more rounded like the advanced version. Have some visible damage (some denting, missing paint, ect.) due to the fact that he mainly uses them to break down doors. They’re attached directly to the duster, just because it’s one less step to remember when he’s dressing himself. The throat guard is larger and has “Lefty” painted on it in white rather than a number. The breastplate is almost identical to that of the Remnants power armor, except more polished and the metal less dark, stripped of any electronic components and outfitted with clasps on the sides and shoulders for easier removal. Has some minor dings, dents, and scrapes, but he’s recently had to resize it and he banged and buffed out the worst of the old damage in the process. Under all of that he wears a simple dark leather shirt (think barebones reinforced leather armor that still has both sleeves). Wears his Pip-Boy on his right arm, along with an additional layer of padding between it and the sleeve to help alleviate pressure on an injury there. Has a nondescript, unpainted metal guard on his left forearm that is heavily marked with scrapes, cuts, and dents from deflecting/countering melee weapons. And under that is a heavy cloth shirt, to which is attached a backpack-like metal device that links to a cooling system built in the shirt. There are holes cut into the leather armor, breastplate, and duster to accommodate it (he puts it on first and then fits everything else over it), and a small solar panel on the top that provides it with power. It does a fantastic job of keeping him from overheating despite all the layers, at the cost of needing to scavenge for or buy coolant to keep it going (not always an easy task and part of the reason why vertibird wrecks can be a veritable goldmine for him; not many folks know how to properly salvage a ‘bird). Produces a constant, quiet hum when running. The shirt has a zipper to make it less of a pain to wrestle with and zips up all the way under his chin. Fingerless gloves. He tried full gloves once and got nervous about not being able to actually touch anything. Simple, loose-fitting canvas pants (currently) with big pockets for more secret storage (namely, a pencil and his “quest book” as he so fondly calls it). He’s found thigh armor to be just a little too restricting on top of everything else, so the pants tend to see more damage, and get replaced and patchworked more often than any other part of the outfit. Wears knee guards similar to the elite riot gear, and more metal plating over the front of his steel-toed boots. The boots, like the duster, are well-oiled, though a lot more visibly worn. He does a lot of walking. The helmet hasn’t seen a lot of modification because he doesn’t really like wearing it--the actual helmet part of it is identical in construction to the elite riot gear’s, though darker, and the mask portion more resembles the advanced gear’s, save for the red lenses are swapped with a bright green (”The world looks much more friendly this way,” he says.). Under the duster and crossing his chest from the right shoulder are one bandoleer stocked with his very special homemade hand-load .50 MG rounds and another of small pouches (ideal for storing a few handfuls of caps or things like lockpicks that are good to have close at hand). Other ammunition is stored either in the inner breast pocket of the duster or a satchel on his belt. Both bandoleers attach directly to the shoulder and side of the breastplate because the cooling system prevents anything from being looped comfortably around the back. Would absolutely wear a big obnoxious belt buckle if he could find one, though at this point he’d struggle to find room. Keeps his hunting revolver in a holster on his left hip, as well as his wakizashi. Three or four other pouches and bags on the belt hold things like snacks, ammo, more caps, and his cache of herbs, spices, and teas. Carries two canteens on the same damn belt, which is currently crying for mercy, can you hear it? Other storage consists of a courier-style satchel he usually wears with the strap over his left shoulder--that contains the important things, like whatever he’s courier-ing, his medical supplies, a stock of non-snack foods, the rest of his caps, extra water, a length of dyed leather in case of duster damage, his other weapons, books, and various repair kits--and a duffel bag he’ll just sling over his shoulder that he uses for loot and/or anything he hasn’t currently sorted into its proper place in his exhausting storage system. (Yes, he does have the Pack Rat perk, why do you ask.) Basically, his entire set-up is built for enduring long road trips through extremely harsh terrain and for being able to withstand a fair amount of damage--not as much as if he were in full metal armor, but it’s nothing to sneeze at. It is, again, much heavier than the other riot gears, and the fact that he can still keep much of his speed and agility while wearing it is a virtue of his own unique constitution rather than any deliberate effort to make the armor manageable for anyone who isn’t him. His fingers and maybe a small sliver of throat, if he tilts his head right, are the only skin he shows to most people. That is by design. Just about everything that would require him showing his face (eating, bathing, ect.) is done in total privacy except for the two or three people he trusts enough for that. In this way, he’s protected from the outside world in more than one sense. Exact colors I’m still trying to figure out a way to work on, but I’m imagining a bold and quite distinct mix of fairly saturated mid-tone and darker greens, black/dark greys, and silver. He stands out in a crowd and cuts a pretty impressive--if very square--figure. Takashi Takeda is nothing if not a vain motherfucker at his core, and he’s not going to go around looking like he just spent a month swimming in a pool of wasteland dust, regardless of how impractical it is for him to try and keep himself and his armor clean of the stuff. Though he’s since done extensive modifications to suit his particular lifestyle and look, the armor was originally a gift. He can’t remember who from.

[shiratorizawa-academy]

Oooh that arm wrestling headcanon - I think Yamagata would win with the right arm, but no one can touch Ushijima if it's the left arm. I feel like Reon or Goshiki would come second. And I can't make up my mind whether Kawanishi could be really good if he just decided to try or if he's kind of hopeless either way...what do you think? -Lefty Anon- By the way, I hope you don't mind that I keep sending messages. I've gone down the Shiratorizawa hole and can't get back out.

I don’t mind at all, in fact I’m very happy to get your messages! There are maybe 3 people I can talk to about The Boys™ so I’m very excited to get to add a 4th one^^

Hmmm my personal headcanon for arm wrestling would be:

Ushijima always wins. He has to fight with his right arm sometimes but with his left arm it’s no competition at all.

Reon is second place. He doesn’t really care for arm wrestling though and everyone knows it. Since he knows that Yamagata actually cares about the outcomes, he usually lets him win. The entire team knows he’s stronger though because one time Yamagata annoyed him into it and he obliterated him.

Yamagata comes in third. He’s the libero so can’t spike but he refuses to let anyone think that he’s lacking power. He specifically trained himself in arm wrestling to kick anyone’s ass who thinks otherwise.

Semi hates it. He knows that he’s stronger than Yamagata. He knows. So why can’t he beat him?! 

Kawanishi dislikes arm wrestling because he usually has to try really hard to beat anyone and it leaves him with aching muscles. Whenever he wrestles his seniors he just hands them the win. He has been known to beat Goshiki though.

Goshiki loves arm wrestling. He’s not very good at it because he can’t figure out a stable position for his elbow but he still loves it. Tendou says he has “potential” and he’s determined to prove him right.

No one knows if Shirabu is stronger than Goshiki or not. He refuses to wrestle him, saying that it’s stupid and a waste of time. Kawanishi knows that he’s just secretly self-conscious about being weaker than most other guys on the team.

Tendou is weak and he knows it. He still has fun wrestling though, mostly because it’s a great opportunity to tease his friends. Occasionally he distracts his opponent so well that he can beat them. The team knows this and somehow still falls for it lol

[novalucitor-blog]

A Change of Fate ch. 4

Read through chapter 11 now on AO3

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Star Butterfly, princess of the Kingdom of the Moon. Marco, her best friend and right-hand knight. Tom, prince of the Kingdom of Fire and Star’s fiance. Star would do anything to get out of a marriage that will form an alliance between the two kingdoms but she can’t change her fate without also changing the fate of those around her.

Chapter four

Marco stared in the mirror and couldn’t help but blush. Sure, he was in Star’s body and it was Star’s face looking back at him, but the whole ordeal was embarrassing. Three maids wrestled him out of the nightgown and into a dress while he squeezed his eyes shut and insisted he could do it alone. Now he stood wearing a blue dress that nearly reached the floor, a pair of heels that he wobbled in when he tried to walk and a tiara. All he could imagine was his body and face wearing all of this and he felt silly.

As much as he was loathing staring in the mirror, he wanted to stall as long as he could. There was a chance that Star would come bursting into the room any minute with a reverse spell that would save him from having to go with Tom in her place. A knock at the door had him whirling around and nearly falling over in the heels. He carefully slid his feet little by little to the door, hoping to see Star.

Instead, when he opened the door, he was greeted by a maid and two guards. She had a look on her face that said she felt the guard presence was ridiculous. Marco kind of agreed but he also knew that Star could and would run any chance she got. After what he’d done this morning, he wasn’t surprised they sent two guards. It was, however, surprising that they didn’t send more.

“They’re ready for you, milady.” She said.

Marco carefully and slowly followed her down the hall, the guards closing in behind him. The maid kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Star was used to walking in heels, but he was not. Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d just assume it was the jitters about the trip.

When they arrived at the doors that would lead them outside to the coach that was waiting for him, he looked around one last time hoping to see his own face with Star inside. She was nowhere in sight. She didn’t even come to see him off. He would have come if she were in her rightful spot. Marco had a sinking feeling that she was blowing him off and letting him live out her life.

Tom grinned from ear to ear when he saw Marco (Star) approaching. It was weird. Marco was so used to being glared at by the prince, seeing him smiling so happily at him was kind of funny. He suppressed a chuckle as he imagined what Tom would say if he knew he was really looking at Marco. He’d have to tell Star about that one later. If he ever saw her again.

“Good morning, Star. Are you ready to go to our home?” He asked, grabbing Star’s hand and kissing her knuckles.

Marco grimaced, which was not totally out of character for Star. It would have been weirder if he hadn’t reacted that way. Tom held onto her hand as Marco carefully climbed up the steps of the coach. The door closed behind him and for the first time he realized how awful this really was. He was stuck in Star’s body, heading off to a different kingdom, and would probably end up having to marry Tom. Everything that Star hadn’t wanted had now been thrust into his lap. He thought he was beginning to understand how she felt.

----

As Star stood in Marco’s room staring at his armor, she realized she had no idea how to put it on. She didn’t even know which one she was supposed to wear. She usually saw Marco wearing the one that looked like chain but sometimes during practice they wore the heavy metal one. She opted for the chain as she imagined it wouldn’t be as heavy and, while she had Marco’s muscles, she wasn’t sure she was ready go full metal.

After getting dressed the best she could, she grabbed the sword she often saw Marco using during practice and headed out to the courtyard where dummies clad in old dented armor stood waiting. Star had watched plenty of practices before to have a general idea and Marco had taught her some basic sword fighting techniques in secret.

She lined up along the other knights and mimicked their stance. Back straight, sword point down, hands overlapped on the hilt, staring straight ahead at the knight captain. Marco’s dad had never seemed intimidating. He was always so nice to her and silly. He was what Star thought a dad should be. Not like her dad who only seemed to care about hunting and politics. He never really played with her when she was young. He was always too busy.

Now, as Star stood in Marco’s shoes (literally), she was a little intimidated by him. He stood tall and muscular over all the knights in the line. He paced back and forth in front of them all, sizing them up as he went. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he stopped and shouted out a word so quickly Star didn’t hear it.

Every other knight in the line grabbed the hilt of their sword in their dominant hand and swung it up in front of their face, stopping just before hitting their noses. Star took a minute to process what had just happened, and by the time she did Marco’s dad was staring her down. She quickly followed suit, bumping her nose just a little with the sword. Lucky for her, it wasn’t sharp as it was used for training.

She heard some of the knights around her laugh quietly, but they quickly stopped when his dad looked at them. Star knew that some of the other knights gave Marco a hard time for being friends with her, but she wondered if they ever harassed him because of his dad being the captain of the knights guard. They probably assumed there was nepotism and that was why Marco was chosen so often for tasks. Star knew better. He worked his butt off to get to where he was. She could feel it in the sore muscles she’d been fighting to ignore since the switch.

Everything settled down again as the knights stood as perfect statues. Marco’s dad yelled out again and all Star heard was “Stance!” which she was pretty sure was the last word of string of three or more. She watched more closely this time and followed the lead of the others. They all dropped their left foot back behind them (except the lefties who moved their right) and raised their sword up, pointed away from them. Star followed as quickly as she could, but she was still a beat behind everyone else who seemed to move in perfect synchronicity.

Marco’s dad stared daggers at her and came to stand at the end of her sword. Star swallowed hard, suddenly afraid of the angry look on his face. This was not the man she knew.

“Do we have a problem here?” He asked.

“No, sir.” She said, not looking at him.

Without another word, he began pacing again. At the next shouted instructions all the others put their sword against their opposite hip and covered the blade with their free hand. Star was a bit quicker this time but still not in synch. It continued like this for some time. When he was satisfied, he released them to practice on the dummies and spare amongst themselves.

Star chose one of the dummies, thinking it’s probably the safest bet for her first day. She took a minute to watch the others and began copying what she saw them doing. Her swordsmanship was sloppy, and she added making Marco look like a fool to her list of apologies. She kept trying, but just when she thinks she’s getting the hang of it, she heard Marco’s name being called.

“Marco. See me in the armory!” His dad shouted.

Star lowered her sword and took a deep breath before following him toward the armory. She knew she had screwed up and she had no idea what would happen. Marco never talked about this. She didn’t even know if he’d ever been in this situation before.

The armory was dark aside from the light filtering in through the windows. Mr. Diaz was standing with his arms crossed. Star approached to stand before him. He raised one hand and she flinched before his hand came down heavy on her shoulder.

“What is wrong with you today?”

Star opened her eyes and suddenly it was the same old man she knew standing before her. She relaxed.

“I’m just not…feeling like myself today.”

“It’s because Star left, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Not a total lie. Ok maybe it was because she was Star, but he didn’t know that.

“I know it’s going to be hard for a few weeks, but you’ll be with her soon. Your mother and I will miss you terribly, but I know you’ll be happy.”

“Of course. She’s my best friend.” Star said, trying to speak like Marco.

“Are you sure that’s all you are?” He winked.

“W-what?! No absolutely not! Me and M….uh Star?! I don’t think so.”

He chuckled loudly before smacking her on the back. “I’m just teasing my boy, relax.”

“Right…”

He looked toward the door and she could see him morphing back into the knight captain.

“Take the rest of the day but I expect you in top form tomorrow morning, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He left her alone in the armory and rejoined the knights. She could hear him bellow to them. “You see what happens when you slack off?! You spend the day shining armor!”

So, there was a bit of nepotism it seemed. Or maybe it was just because he knew that Marco would be upset at Star’s leaving. She didn’t really know because this was all so confusing. She wondered if Marco would have made any mistakes if none of this had happened.

Sighing, she headed back to Marco’s room to strip off the sweaty armor and wash up. Her first day of knight training and she was a disgrace.

----

Marco hadn’t spoken since their journey began. He was afraid and anxious and really pissed off. Tom, however, had no problem filling the silence. He’d been talking for almost an hour about his kingdom and what he wanted to show Star as soon as they got there. He already found the prince obnoxious and his yammering on now was not helping his opinion of him.

“Then I thought we could have a late-night picnic under the stars. Maybe with candle light. Do you like candles?” He asked.

Marco didn’t even register the question, he was too busy staring out the window and sulking. On a good note, he was definitely doing a good job of passing for Star.

“Star?”

Marco reacted to her name, startled by it until he remembered he was referring to him.

“What is it?” Marco asked, refusing to play at being polite.

“Do you prefer star light or candle light?”

Marco thought back to all the late-night conversations he and Star had when they’d sneak out of their rooms to recount their days to one another. They’d always hidden in the shadows, the stars the only witness to their giggling.

“Star light.” He said, turning back to the window.

“I guess that makes sense, since your name is Star.” Tom chuckled which dissolved into an anxious cough when “Star” didn’t laugh.

Marco rolled his eyes. What a loser. If he thought this was the way to Star’s heart, he didn’t know her at all. He certainly wasn’t about to pretend to be in love to help Star. He was too angry with her to do anything that might benefit her down the line. Sure, she was his oldest and closest friend, but she’d made a promise and broke it in a huge way, screwing him over in the process.

He knew how desperate she was, he knew how she was feeling, he’d known since day one. That didn’t excuse what she did. There were many other options and she just chose to ignore them and take the easy way out. Just like always. Marco was angry that her life was so easy as the princess of a kingdom and she took it for granted and threw it all away because she wasn’t getting her way.

Ok…maybe that was unfair. No one should be forced into marrying someone they don’t love. But now that was precisely what was going to happen to him. He was going to be forced to marry the prince in her place.

Tom was still rambling about his planned dates. He wanted to go on a horse drawn carriage ride, but wasn’t that what they were doing right now? What was the point of doing it again? Everything he said struck a nerve and he was doing everything he could to keep his mouth shut until they arrived, and he could have some peace and quiet away from the annoying prince.

If they never got this fixed, he’d curse Star’s name until the day he died.

----

Star felt weird sneaking around her castle. Actually, scratch that, she was used to it but not as Marco. If she was caught, she’d be in significantly more trouble as him. Being a princess did have a few perks, like authority. No one could tell her she couldn’t go to the library in the middle of the day. Well, besides her parents. Really it was her mom who had this power hungry need to control Star’s every move. Her friend, her schedule, her diet, who she’s going to marry. For lunars sake, she was engaged before she could talk.

Somehow, she made it to the library doors without incident. Usually the only people in this wing during this time of day were Star and tutors. But since “Star” was gone, no one was hanging around.

The doors creaked as she opened them just enough to slide through. It wasn’t as eerie as it was the night before, but still a little creepy and too quiet.

This time she headed straight to the spell books and began searching for the glowing purple book. Before, the little man had told her she’d been seeking him out. She didn’t really understand how when she didn’t even know he’d existed before that. Still, maybe if she was actually looking for him it would be easier to find him.

“Hello?” she called out to the empty aisles. “Little blue man are you here?”

She searched her brain for the name he had given her. Gloss…Glossy? No, he wasn’t a dwarf with either very nice hair or very oily skin. Glossamire? Glossator? No…it was…

“Glossaryck?” She called. No response.

“It’s princess Star. I know I don’t sound like, or even look like Star but I am. That spell you gave me kind of went wrong. I think you gave me the wrong spell.”

“I never give the wrong spell.”

Star jumped and spun around. The book and Glossaryck were floating behind her. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Ok, they were Marco’s heart and chest but at the moment she was using them.

Where did you come from?” She asked.

“I thought we cleared this up last night.”

“I mean…never mind. Why did Marco and I switch bodies?”

“You said you wanted to be a knight like your friend. Now you are.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“You must be very specific with spells, surely you’ve been told this before.”

Actually, she hadn’t. She’d never been taught anything useful or amazing. It wasn’t really a rule when fixing the broken heel on your shoe during a garden party.

“Well, this isn’t what I wanted. I need a spell to change back.”

“There is no spell.”

Star’s eyes grew wide as she stared at him in disbelief. This couldn’t be true. There had to be a way to reverse what she’d done and give Marco his body back. If there wasn’t, she’d never be able to forgive herself and neither would Marco.

[bubblegumlefty]

So I heard the news. Punk got the sack. 💰

Honestly, after all the messy controversy and backstage politics being put out to dry, I'm not gonna say I kinda saw this happening eventually...

But...

[lovelyirony]

Wishes are up for Interpretation

a concept: Steve is like a genie that fucks ur shit man. Like oh, you want an endless pepperoni pizza? well guess what kid, it has pepperoni. but no sauce. no cheese. just pepperoni. and it’s burnt pepperoni. u got it man, but it’s endless terrible pizza. 

and then comes tony stark, who finds the genie-holder in the middle of an antiques store for like negative three cents bc steve’s container is a piece of shit tupperware thing that has sonic the hedgehog on it and tony will be damned to hell if he doesn’t get that sonic the hedgehog tupperware. 

well, steve wasn’t anticipating that like himself, tony is an absolute dipshit who loves thinking of ways around rules. he can bend the wishes like they’re bendy straws (no one said steve was good at analogies, okay?) and tony gets a puppy by the end of the day, to his exact specifications 

technically, steve could be nice and just give tony the puppy, but after years of greedy people, he likes dealing with things in the most complicated way possible. so he draws out the conversation, talks about how bad dogs can get, but tony stands fast and counters each point with an exact statement. 

“Well, you ended your statement,” Steve said with a smirk. “I can only grant the wish stated in a singular statement.” 

“Review the conversation, I was speaking in a sentence that entire time,” Tony says, grinning. “Specifically stating what I wanted, what breed of dog, and what I would name them. You just liked interrupting. A lot.” Steve replays the conversation. 

dammit. 

So a puppy comes wriggling into the house, and Tony aptly names him Leftie after the all brown left paws, and Steve has to admit that he’s pretty cute. 

The second wish comes months later. Tony doesn’t really want for anything. He has a seriously nice business, plenty of women, men, and others in his life to keep his attention, and three little robots that Steve knows of. They don’t like Steve very much and staged a rebellion to get him out of the “workshop.” Steve thought it was adorable that U thought he could throw a tie at Steve and he would disappear. 

the second wish is said while tony is on the rooftop when it’s freezing cold, staring up at the snowflakes, and shivering. 

“I wish I could be anywhere but here right now.” And usually, Steve would do a devilish thing. But he remembered hearing about the deaths. He saw the people pretending to ignore his loss or try to cover it up. Steve saw how utterly terrible he was feeling. 

Usually, Steve sent his clientele down to hell for a day or two. Came back scarred or pleasured, whatever floated their boat, but Steve had a better idea. 

Tony lands in a diner in the middle of Brooklyn that has the worst coffee in the world and has been around since 1954. Tony orders coconut cream pie (a mistake) and coffee (an even bigger mistake) and then smiles. Steve sits down next to him and orders lemonade. 

“Thank you, Steve,” Tony says softly. 

(He thinks that sounds nice.) 

Leftie and Tony see more of Steve. He invades the workshop again, but Dum-E comes to his defense after Steve repairs a piece of artwork for Tony. 

“I don’t just grant wishes, you know,” Steve says. “I have an art degree.” 

“When the hell did you get an art degree?” Tony asks. Steve gestures to the Sonic Tupperware holder. 

“I’m allowed to have a laptop in there, you know. I like that little place. It’s bigger on the inside. There’re windows.” Tony laughs as Steve waxes poetic of sometimes ending up in thrift stores or some weird person’s house. 

Steve, despite his vast wealth of information on history, has not really seen good movies. 

“oh come on, we’re watching them,” Tony says. 

Steve doesn’t make him use a wish. 

Even though he’s actually seen E.T. and is scared shitless by it. He just tenses throughout the movie until Tony rolls his eyes and scoots closer on the couch. 

“You dumb dork, it’s just an animatronic,” he says. “But he does kind of look like a mummy...” 

“Mummies have better facial features,” Steve defends. “This weird wrinkled alien is scary and I am surprised humanity hasn’t died out if they trust aliens.” 

The third wish is eight months later. This is the longest Steve has stayed with someone. No one else knows he’s a magical creature. He’s met Rhodey and Pepper, and Steve never really knows how to act around Rhodey because the last time they met the bots were chasing Steve around the house and Steve was swearing vengeance on Jarvis and an arm-wrestling competition. 

“He sounds awfully confident for a guy who looks barely over one hundred pounds,” Rhodey says, eyebrow arched. 

Pepper is actually friends with Steve and they trade “customer service” stories. Pepper’s are always more fun to listen to because Steve can’t exactly say “hey this dickbag guy wanted this girl he was in love with to fall in love with him so I murdered him with a piano on their way to the date that she was forced into but she really has no obligation to go to.” It just sounds wrong. 

Tony nearly dies because some asshole tries to kill him. Steve will not stand for this, he’s too good of a man, and saves him with Old World Magic. It’s not a new thing. Well, not for Steve. But now Tony has some ancient gene called “Extremis” and it makes him run hotter and he gets super strength. 

“You are so stupid,” Steve mutters when he visits a sleeping Tony. “You are, without a doubt, the worst person. Why did you have to be so crafty about your wishes?” 

Steve visits on a Wednesday. There’s a sticky note on the pillow. 

I lived, bitch.

He laughs harder than he thinks he should. 

The wish comes when Steve and Tony are lying on the couch and watching Uncle Buck and Tony says: 

“I wish you to be free from your bond as a genie.” 

“You don’t get to pull that Aladdin shit with me,” Steve says. “Once I’m free, I’m free. I can’t grant you wishes or stay, even if you want me to.” Tony doesn’t falter. 

“Do you honestly think you deserve to be trapped in a Sonic the Hedgehog Tupperware container?” 

“...No.” 

“I wish you to be free of your role as a genie.” 

Steve doesn’t have to grant wishes. He tests it out every day, just in case. 

“Tony, wish for an elephant.” 

“I wish for an elephant named Sparkles who I can love to the best of my abilities.” 

“Babe, that was adorable, but no.” Tony grins, presses a kiss to his new boyfriend’s head, (Steve has a boyfriend! Hot diggity!) and says the only wish he has is for Steve to wash the goddamned dishes for once. (Steve hates touching the wet food, sue him.) 

They wake up in the same bed, same room. Steve always wakes up early to see the skyline wake up and get started, and maybe draw a little. Sometimes he’ll make the coffee, but mostly leaves it to Tony. 

The last wish is not official. But Tony’s cheesy. 

There’s a night where Tony is showing Steve how to dance without care and with slidey socks on, and Footloose came on Steve knows this song! He can dance and slide! and while Steve is focused on making a dramatic slide around the floor without falling or grabbing onto a chair, Tony slides in on his knees. 

“I wish to marry you,” he says, smiling. Steve freaks out and falls to the ground and nearly breaks his arm. 

The pictures turned out cute anyway. 

[venusiancarbondioxide]

shou (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

cosme i love you and your emoji choice

What they smell like: ritsu kageyama’s shampoo shou smells like mint bubblegum and whatever current brand of shampoo he’s trying out, because he’s a heathen who changes brands every other week and picks them based on whatever smell he likes best. usually he goes for the ones that smell like honey or mint because he’s weird

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): incredibly light sleeper, and his sleep schedule is an absolute JOKE. he’ll be up for literal days and then pass out for sixteen hours and then take one-hour cat naps every six hours and then he’s up for two straight days again. thank you, unregulated bipolar disorder. once he gets a therapist and gets that under control, he’s more consistently a night owl, but he gets some semblance of a sleep schedule, even if it’s from two in the morning until eleven in the afternoon. he sleeps curled up into a little ball, usually facing towards the window and if someone is next to him, they WILL be held.  

What music they enjoy: he likes a ton of different genres, but he has a soft spot for grunge because it has a Cool Vibe

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: he spends one hour on his hair and two minutes on everything else. i hate him. 

Their favorite thing to collect: animal photos. the boy is a digital puppy hoarder. he has folder after folder of folder of cute animals, mainly hamsters. he keeps one for each animal, and then has sections in each folder for each of his friends so he can send them ones he knows they’ll like whenever they’re sad because shou is considerate and kind when he wants to be

Left or right-handed: lefty! but he can use his right hand really well

Religion (if any): he’s not religious because organized structures with a belief in a higher power give him bad vibes

Favorite sport: he likes wrestling! and hockey! both sports where you can fight people!

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): food carts. food carts. food carts. they are eating at every single food cart. just ate ten minutes ago? don’t care, there’s another food cart. he loves local cuisine, and because he’s traveled so much, he’s eaten everything at least once. he has a soft spot for indian food though, just because it’s so spicy and he loves the spice. 

Favorite kind of weather: he likes early spring! it’s not too hot, but it’s not cold, either. 

A weird/obscure fear they have: he’s severely, severely hydrophobic. it’s bad. i talk about it in fics sometimes. i actually have a whole fic about it for shouritshou week. it’s gonna be a ride. 

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION!!!!!

Give me a character and I’ll tell you my headcanons!

[akumeoy]

yo you got any lefty podcast recs that arent chapo

two, actually!

street fight radio - they’re chapo-adjacent, but they focus a lot less on big political stuff and pundits and a lot more on the realities of being in the working class, plus they don’t do the irony or edgy humor stuff. they also talk a lot about drugs, wrestling, and miscellaneous stuff. just some dudes having fun. it’s almost, dare i say, wholesome?

henry kissinger is pokemon going to die - not a threat, just a fact. operated by a rotating cast of about ten people, hkipgtd is only six episodes in but has really come out of the gates swinging. stylistically they’re pretty similar to chapo -- talking about mainstream politics with a very healthy dose of irony -- but they actually have, like, people who aren’t straight white men, and they’re genuinely invested + versed in social justice issues. give ‘em a listen!

[ariyadaivaris]

alicia fox for whichever of the headcanon things you would like to do for her?

NYA!!! THANK YOU 

What they smell like: alicia smells SO OVERPOWERINGLY of ANY given perfume at any given time that it is nauseating. she doesn’t actually know how to apply perfume, she just, like, washes her hair with it??? pours it over her head and figures its fine??? she’s doing her BEST out here its probably fine. its FIIINE guys its fine, its FINE, 

How they sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc): she doesn’t really sleep well if at all lmao, travelling messes with her schedule just as much as anyone else but she’s given up trying to adapt. she ends up falling asleep at 3 in the morning and waking up after noon, she’s used to it, it’s FIIINEshe doesn’t like sleeping anyway, she has nightmares literally constantly and she doesn’t like trying to sleep because then she just thinks about how many matches of hers just Don’t Work and how everyone thinks there’s smth wrong with her and she just cries a lot and she’d prefer not to do that

What music they enjoy: henderly said she should listen to death grips and i’ve never agreed more with anything, but along those lines, alicia listens to anything that’s just a techno mess of noise and screeching! she listens to witch house, ddr tracks, harsh noise wall, black midi, just anything that is absolutely wretched garbagenoise!!! she LOVES it

How much time they spend getting ready every morning: she spends less time getting ready than you’d think, but mostly because she’s usually up at ridiculous times and she just doesn’t have the time to waste!!! her makeup is nice and gothy but she’s gotta multitask between doing her hair and cleaning up her makeup and it’s kind of a mess sometimes haha. halfway through getting ready sometimes she forgets what she was doing and spends a few minutes trying to backtrack and it’s just a frustrating process 

Their favorite thing to collect: alicia doesn’t really collect things? she’s got an impressive array of lipstick shades but she forgets things a lot and if she’s gifted things they just kinda...get lost or left behind places and alicia doesn’t really care until its 3 in the morning and she’s crying lmao. everything is dust to her! she isn’t rooted anywhere, keeping a collection feels pointless because she’s just gonna be gone the next day, it just isn’t worth it

Left or right-handed: leftie!!!

Favorite sport: besides wrestling, alicia has a lot of fun playing soccer in the most casual way, and she loves practicing and training through whatever weird wacky ninja warrior type courses she can find! it’s not technically a sport either, and she’s not the best at it, but alicia also plays poker sometimes bc i’m gay and the idea makes my heart flutter

Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc): alicia likes finding the lakes and oceans and rivers nearest her and she likes to go sailing around them if she can! the places all blend together themselves but hanging out on the water is one of the rarer things she gets access to, and she feels weirdly joyful on the water. it’s humid and buggy and scrumbled together and she gets sunburned and frizzy and frazzled but she feels Right that way

Favorite kind of weather: the snow!!! not heavy snow, but morning snow when it’s floating down all peacefully. it’s Pwetty

A weird/obscure fear they have: alicia’s kinda scared of being alone? like, not necessarily Not Talking To People, she just doesn’t feel safe in a room where she’s the only other person in it. she doesn’t like mirrors either. she doesn’t like showers and tries to get them over with as soon as possible haha

The carnival/arcade game they always win without fail: NONE OF THEM...dear sweet alicia is the worst on earth at any games, she’s doing her best but she’s just not very good at games. she likes rides better ANYWAY!!!

[anondt-blog]

Tag, you’re it!

thank you to @tidsoptlmist for inviting us to the party ;)  Rules:

1. Post the rules. 2. Answer the questions given by the tagger. 3. Write 11 questions of your own. 4. Tag 11 people.

1. If you could be world leader for a day, what universal rule would you create?  A: I don’t know about universal rule BUT nothing breaks my heart like world hunger. Or the melting ice caps. AGH, JUST DON’T GET ME STARTED  V: I would probably cut some fast food chains and produce more organic products and try to help starvation and obesity.  2. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what are they? If not, do you want any or why not?  A: I have 0 tattoos actually! But I have a list in my phone of some ideas. I would really love to get the number “13″ tattooed on my forearm, it’s my favorite number and favorite LANY song and my dad and I share the birthdate :)  V: Don’t have any but I want one dedicated for my mom and one with my sister. It’d also be cool to get some other things but haven’t thought about it. 3. What would you risk anything for?  A: Is it bad that I would only say my sister? She’s really the only person I would put anything down for...  V: AAWWW SHUCKS I JUST READ MY SISTERS THANKS GAL. I would do anything for the people I care about. I’m very loyal imo. 4. If you could change one thing that happened to you in the past, would you? And if so, what would you change? (you don’t have to explain in detail if you’re not comfortable with it) A: I would say the hate and resentment I kept bottled up for so long. But, I wouldn’t. All of the struggles that I faced, created the beauty in my soul today.   V: I would take wrestling all four years in high school. Regret I didn’t but oh well 5. Are you right or left handed?  A: Right handed, funny cause V is a lefty... lol  V: Wow answer my question aight, it gets pretty repetitive when someone sees me writing and is like ,” OH MY GOSH YOU’RE LEFT HANDED?!” like yeah. lol 6. What’s your biggest strength and your biggest weakness?  A: I’ve gotta say my ability to not really care about what other people think and the ability to feel other peoples... emotions? I’m so sensitive to other people’s energies lol  And weakness? Honestly, myself. Too deep? Hahaha  V: I think my biggest strength is my loyalty to the people I care about; and my biggest weakness is I care about other people to much?? Like I put others first alot and hardly take care of myself and its pretty stressful at times 7. Tea or coffee? Why?  A: Tea. Because coffee makes my stomach hurt and coffee breath sometimes is... gross. Starbucks iced chai latte w soy... try it out 

V: I would say im both because I love them both for the flavor and energy but I do prefer tea lol 8. Where would you go if you could go there with the twins?  A: Tbh... Home. Jersey. I think they’re the happiest there and the most comfortable. I would love to spend this time of year with the boys. Or any time of year... ;)  V: I think Japan would be really cool. A lot of fun and pretty things are there and the aesthetic is amazing. 9. Thoughts on astrology?  A: I actually just bought a new astrology book today! (The only astrology book you’ll ever need by Joanna Martine Woolfolk) but I am BIIIIIIGGGGGG on that stuff. Let’s talk natal charts ;)  V: I’m pretty interested in it and my sister definitely grew my interest so yeah 10. Do you bite into your ice-cream? And what are your thoughts about biting into ice cream?  A: AHHAHA OMG. I used to think you were a MONSTER for doing so. But, now I can do it ONLY BECAUSE I lost my front tooth like 4 years ago and I don’t feel the coldness. Still gives me chills...  V: I never knew it was this big of a deal lol, I don’t care man just eat it with your mouth closed and we’re good 11. Showers or baths?  A: the ONLY reason I don’t take baths everyday is because I never have time! If I could I WOULD. You smell so bomb afterwards.  V: Showers because you don’t soak in your own filth but after I shower I like to take baths :)

QUESTION TIME:  1. What’s one song you’d play at your wedding? (if you don’t want to get married, say the song that makes you happiest)  2. Who’s someone you think of when you’re sad? (if this is too personal just say WHAT’S something that makes you sad?)  3. Do you believe in the super natural? Aliens?  4. If you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?  5. Early or late person? Punctual?  6. When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with?  7. Small things that make your day better?  8. What are some things you’ve had to unlearn?  9. If you had the chance to become immortal, would you? Why? Why not?  10. Who/what makes you want to be a better version of yourself?  11. What’s your ideal way of meeting the twins, if you haven't already. (if you have, would you change anything? How did you feel?)  Sorry if you’ve been tagged already we just tryna get lit on this nice sunday fam...  @fiftyshadesofhissingdolans @scuteedolans @ethandolxn @e-the-god @dolanslife @squishyethan @ethandolame @g-e-dolan @grizzlygrayson @profanitydolan @freakdolan And hey tbh even if you weren't tagged and you wanna answer these or just talk send these back to me in our messages, that’d be fun hehehe... A, x

[rustbolt-answers-your-bullshit]

Act 3, Chapter 7: The Gay(?)-est Chapter

“You said this would work.”

“Hey, I’m not a psychic.”

“Just a psycho.” Rustbolt smirked.

Brainstorm chuckled. “Oh, you.”

“So what now?”

“Now we try again.” Brainstorm handed Rustbolt a remote with a small button on it.

“Ugh, fine.” Snatching the remote, he pressed the button. There was a spark, and suddenly, a vortex similar to Brainstorm’s Eureka opened up. Through the portal was the pink meteor. It had loads of zombies on it. And alot of plants, too.

“We did it! We finally found life on Comet Z!”

Rustbolt and Brainstorm hugged each other, hopping in unison and giggling.

*Slap.*

Then, with a slap, Rustbolt opened his eyes to see Solar Flare staring down at him. “You had some weird dreams tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“They all involved the meteor. The pink one.”

“It’s a comet,” Corrected Rustbolt. “Comet Z, as Brainstorm apparently named it.”

“How do you know what he named it?”

“He told EB, who told Sportacus, who told me.”

SF nodded. “So now what?”

“I don’t know about you, but I have someone to meet.”

“What?”

“Well, not MEET…” Rustbolt rolled his eyes. “I have to talk to Rose with EB. He said he’d swing by at four.”

“Dude, I already swung by.” EB’s voice came from behind him.

“WAH!” Rustbolt jumped, turning around to see EB leaning on the wall, chugging a Glacier Freeze Gatorade from a 6 pack. The other 5 were in his other hand, bound by plastic rings. “Wait what time is it?”

“It’s 8:42,” said Solar Flare. “According to my sundial.”

“Haha! A sunflower with a sundial! That’s golden right there.”

“I like him.” Solar Flare pointed to Boog. “He’s funny and has a great taste in music.”

“You bet your blue suede shoes I do!” Floof smiled.

Rustbolt chuckled.

“Woah woah hold up.” EB held up his Gatorade. “Open your mouth again, bro.”

Confused, Rustbolt nodded and opened. EB’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped and so did his Gatorade. The electrolyte-replenishing drink landed on the floor, and the jaw was a few inches short.

“DUDE YOUR TEETH”

“What about them?”

“Feel your gums, dude.”

Confused, Rustbolt put his thumb against his upper gums. He went side to side, rubbing along the length of them, and he felt bumps. Serrated somethings were making their way out. “Am I growing new teeth?”

“Dude, that’s awesome!”

“Yeah but I have perfect speech with only four teeth. You know how hard it’ll be to adjust?”

“Just ask Brain Freeze to help you.”

Sighing, Rustbolt nodded. “You’re right.”

EB picked up his Gatorade, which somehow landed perfectly right side up. Not a drop had spilled. “Well, I gotta head back to Zomboss. He called another meeting. He also said Super Brainz would be sneaking into LEAF HQ today so, be ready. I’m still Team Zombie, but you’re a zombie too so I gotta help a brother out, you know what I’m sayin’?” He nudged Rustbolt a few times with his elbow. “Haha.”

“You said he’d be here,” grumbled Captain Combustible.

“He will be, he will be.”

At that moment, the sound of two xylophone notes being played in an ABAB pattern filled the hallway. The stump and the zombie turned towards the sound to see Super Brainz, tiptoeing in perfect unison with the xylophone notes.

“There he is!” Yelled Cap Combus. With a roar, he launched himself at the super[zombie]hero.

The two wrestled each other for about twelve minutes until finally Rustbolt said “okay you two, break it up.”

They stopped fighting, and SB looked at Rustbolt. “Rusty? What are you doing here? I thought you would be frolicking in the flowers or something.”

“Great to see you too, asshole.”

“Friend stealer,” The Superhero countered.

“Egomaniac.”

“Flower kisser.”

“Flower FUCKER.”

SB grumbled in defeat. “Whatever.”

Rustbolt pulled Cap off of Super Brainz. “Get out of here and we won’t kick your ass.”

SB got up, and Rustbolt and Cap started walking away.

“The fire tree isn’t even scary,” taunted SB.

“Shut your fat flabby mouth,” snapped Cap.

“What’re you gonna do about it, Stumpy.”

Captain Combustible turned around and glared at the super zombie. “WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME!?”

“STUMPY.”

“Why you little MOTHERFUCKING BEEF-BRAINED COCKSUCKING AIRHEAD! I’M GONNA RIP YOU LIMB FROM ROTTEN LIMB!”

The next 8 minutes consisted of fire, crunching bones, screaming and the smell of burnt flesh.

“Well,” Rustbolt shrugged. “As they say, there’s no kill like overkill.”

So, after SB flew back home, fatally injured, Rustbolt and Cap walked back to their respective places of residence. When Rustbolt got home, EB was back in the house, talking to Solar Flare. “Sup, you two.”

They both flinched. “Oh! Rustbolt! EB was just, uh…”

“Teaching her how to flirt with words instead of sex appeal,” EB mentioned nonchalantly.

“Dude I feel like if anything YOU’D rely on your sex appeal more than a flower.” Rustbolt gave a look that said “I’m right and we both know it.”

His friend shrugged. “Well I rely on it, yes, but I use words alot more than she does, apparently.”

“Listen here, Dance-o. If you were a plant you’d go freaking Gaga over me.” Solar Flare ran her leaves down the outline of her body, swaying her ‘hip’ as her leaves made their way down her stem.

“If you say so.” Boog rolled his eyes. “Anyways, Rusty, you ready to go?”

“Don’t call me Rusty.”

“Forgot. Sorry.”

“I’m just remindin’ ya bro, you know I don’t like that.”

“Can you just lead us to Rose?” EB tapped his foot, suddenly annoyed.

“I know the way!” SF raised a leaf. “Can I show you guys the way?”

“Why not.” The two shrugged.

“Thank you for seeing me, Rustbolt.”

Rustbolt nodded. “I brought EB and Solar Flare too.”

“Well I did ask you to bring another zombie hero, so.” She glared at EB, who just winked and popped a pair of fingerguns her way. “I always see you two together, I don’t know why I expected you to bring anybody besides this disco dunce.”

“Hey, you’re not so pleasant yourself, petal pusher.”

“Hair-brain.”

“Control freak.”

“Hoho, guilty as charged.” She chuckled, smiling.

“So what did you need me for,” Rustbolt said, trying to leave as soon as possible.

“We need to have a private discussion tonight, you and I.” She pointed her wand at him. “As for now, we need to give you a more… plant-related… superpower.”

“Like what?”

Rose smirked. “How about we take advantage of those powers, hm?” She made her way over to the garden in her castle. She put down a few beans and a Mayflower in the water. “Use your powers to make a random plant in every lane.”

“You want me to pull off a cornucopia? No.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Then make weaker plants. Here, take this pen and write a few plants off the top of your head.”

“Why do you just have a pen on vine?”

“Because I write spells sometimes.” Rose handed him a pad of paper, too.

After a long time of trying out this signature superpower, a long time that I’m not gonna elaborate on, he finally succeeded. He had a cabbage-pult on heights, a metal petal, a snowdrop and a puff-shroom on the ground and a guacodile in the water.

“Excellent work, Rustbolt!”

“Good job man!” EB hugged his Rustbuddy™.

“Are you two gonna freaking kiss yet or something?”

They both let go of each other. “What?” They asked in unison.

“I ship you guys. Electrobolt for the win.”

Rustbolt and EB, after processing what the flower just said to them, turned to look at each other. And, as if they both knew exactly what to do…

They took a step closer to each other…

Leaned in…

…And Rustbolt pulled out his sharpie and drew anime-style blush lines on EB’s face.

The two erupted into laughter, to the point where EB fell over clutching his stomach.

“I love you man,” Rustbolt said in his deepest possible voice.

“Oh my GAWD, I like, love you so much, Rustbolt!” Said EB. But the way he said it. If there ever was a stereotypical gay guy voice that was it. The impersonation sounded nothing like EB’s “bittersweet” voice. And with that, the two laughed even more.

The thing is, EB has that kind of laugh that makes OTHERS laugh. His laugh in and of itself is just FUNNY. It’s a joyous laugh.

So, the two kept laughing until Rose finally sent them off, where Solar Flare guided them to a place that EB knew all too well. They approached the track, covered in tires, piers, moats and rope courses.

“The obstacle course,” EB said, horrified.

“Grass Knuckles’ course? Why?”

“I dunno, he said to bring you guys here.”

“WHY HELLO, FARTHEADS.” Grass Knuckles jumped down from a tree, like a fucking creep, and landed in front of them. “I have a friend I’d like you to meet.”

“Is it Lefty Louie?” EB snickered.

“No. I called you all here to meet my staff.”

Solar Flare wasn’t about to deal with this bull crap. So, she flew off.

“Staff?” Boog and Rustbolt looked over at each other. “Staff of what?”

“STAFF OF PUNISHMENT!” GK pulled a staff out of hammerspace and proceeded to whack the two with it. The conversation that proceeded had about a minute of just whacking and “ow” in between each line of dialogue.

“Dude, what the hell!?” Screamed Rustbolt.

“DONT THINK I  DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE UP TO.”

“What?”

“You may have everyone else fooled but not me! You lowlife zomBOZO! And your boyfriend too!”

Solar Flare, having heard the whacking and screaming, sighed and flew back. On the way, she saw Nightcap hopping along, also towards the obstacle course. She landed right next to her Kabloom Companion. “Wassup, my shroom?”

“Well, if it isn’t miss ‘Shroomier than thou.’ How goes it.”

“Still salty about that, huh.” She smiled nervously and scratched the back of her head.

“Yeah. But whatever. Anyways where you off to.”

“Me? I’m headed to the golf course.”

“Golf course is the other way.”

Solar Flare faceleafed. “I meant the OBSTACLE course. Dammit.”

“Me too,” the mushroom said.

“Going to see your boyfriend?~” She teased.

Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. “He came to my house, he left, and now my staff is gone.”

“He stole your jabby-whacky-stick?”

Huffing, Nightcap nodded. “That and he has some explaining to do. I saw him watching me train yesterday through the window.”

When the two arrived, they saw GK whacking the absolute SHIT out of the two zombies. That’s what Rustbolt gets for not wearing his suit I guess.

“…And your boyfriend too!” Screamed GK.

“What? If anything YOU’RE the gay one,” said EB.

“Yeah,” continued Rustbolt. “You making goo goo eyes at Nightcap.”

GK threw down the staff in anger. “I’m not gay!”

“You’re blushing.”

“Wha– My mask is RED, doofus!”

Rustbolt looked at GK. “You’re blushing.”

“Wha– My mask is RED, doofus!”

“Sup guys.” The three turned to see Solar Flare and Nightcap.

“Sup, we’re just talking about GK’s homosexuality.”

“I’m gonna shred you if you don’t shut up,” growled the Asian cabbage.

“He’s not gay,” Solar Flare said.

“Thank you!” GK was relieved that someone was taking his side.

“He’s just got a shroom kink.” And even without proper lips, she managed to pull off the best :3 you’ve ever seen.

Blushing, GK groaned. “I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH NIGHTCAP!”

“Then explain the peeping,” Nightcap responded emotionlessly.

Grass Knuckles looked at the fungus before him. “…I…..” He closed his eyes tight and rushed his words. “I really really look up to you and I aspire to be you someday or at least LIKE you because you’re so cool and powerful and you’re like the awesomest dude ever and well when we hang out together I feel like I’m getting to know you more and more and I watch you train because I go home every day and train like you do and I’m the one that stole your nun chucks last month because I wanted to learn to fight like you!”

Nightcap stared at the Bonk Choy. “You really think that highly of me?”

“Mm-hm!” Grass Knuckles, eyes still closed, nodded.

Nightcap’s frown turned into an expression of mild surprise. Then… It became… a smile. “Th…” he became frustrated. “Tha… Th…. Thuuuuuuu……… Thaaaaaaa…..” He growled, teeth grit. “Thank you.”

Grass Knuckles opened his eyes to see Nightcap hugging him. And smiling. Wow, a double whammy. He quickly returned the hug. Hear that? That’s the sound of the S. S. Grasscap scraping against the iceberg that is this story. You can practically taste the seawater flooding the lower decks, can’t you? The nose is going up… It’s practically vertical… And DOWN goes the Grasscap ship. Fucking sunk. Deal with it. You got your fluff, be happy with it.

Brainstorm glared through the telescope. He couldn’t get that dream out of his head. It was a dream entirely centered around Comet Z. And apparently Immorticia, the only Hero he spoke with today, said she had a dream about the comet as well.

Oh well, probably coincidence.

He was about to pack up for the night when he saw a streak of fire and… smoke? Smoke in space? Whatever was somehow making space smoke slammed into the comet, knocking it off course an observable amount.

Brainstorm stood up, and ran his fingers through his hair. Grabbing his communicator, he punched in a number. Within seconds, a (Garden Warfare) Scientist Zombie was on the screen. “Victor?”

Rolling his eyes, he huffed. “Yes, Chanler, it’s me. Your brother. Sorry I haven’t called in a while but I need you over here as soon as possible.’

“You know, ever since you got zapped by that Hero beam you never call, you never visit, you became a recluse and you left me to heal the masses.”

“I was never that big into healing anything, you know that. Why repair when you can upgrade?”

“Whatever. And now you call me, no context, telling me I have to be there ASAP!”

“Oh right, and how’s that whole Junkling fiasco going, or whatever her name is.”

“Her name isn’t Junkling,” Chanler said, blushing. “It’s Juk–”

“I’d love to hear it, little brother, but I need you to get here as fast as science can carry you.” He abruptly hung up, turning his attention to a huge monitor. It displayed charts and data curves and other information about the comet. He pressed the refresh button.

Holy shit.

All the info changed. And according to the computers and satellite tracking, it was now on a collision course. With Earth. Unfortunately since it just happened less than an hour ago, there wasn’t enough data to determine exactly WHERE on Earth it would land.

Comet Z just became Meteor Z. And that would have been a bad thing if Brainstorm hadn’t seen the corner of the monitor before turning it off.

He had his hand on the button and pressed it. So it shut off, but not before his eyes trailed to the corner of the screen. There was a picture taken, kind of blurry, but one thing was very visible:

A large. Pink. Z. Engraved onto the meteor. It really WAS meteor Z.

Brainstorm, astonished, hastily dialed Zomboss on his communicator.

“Brainstorm, my trusted advisor, is there something of importance that you need to tell me?” He had rejected the video call and answered it as a normal call.

“Sir, I have some…” Brainstorm blinked and saw the image, temporarily burned into his retinas. “… Some groundbreaking news. Groundbreaking in more ways than one.”

[andrerealtor-blog]

Today is International Left Handers Day. As usual, I’m going to twist this into some sort of real estate related thought. (No, I won’t be talking about left-handed door knobs, or household appliances…) For many years, being right-handed was seen as, well, being “right”. At this point, we know it’s pretty crazy to think of left-handed people as doing something wrong, or even being bad or evil. But for years, they were forced to do things right-handed. Now we know there’s no “right” or “wrong”. There’s righty or lefty… On one hand, you have right-handed people. On the other hand, you have left-handed peo…hooooold on. Wait a second. There’s also lefty and righty. There’s the ambidextrous. Some people are somewhere in between. In real estate, there’s lots of decisions for people to make during the course of buying or selling a house. And there’s rarely one absolutely “right” decision… “Should I offer more for the house, or stick to my guns on price?” “Should I accept this offer, or wait for a better one?” “Should I list my house for this much, or that much?” “ Should I agree to these terms, or…” …and ultimately the decision is yours to make. But whatever decision you make will certainly have consequences. Not necessarily either good or bad consequences. Just consequences. Which is where a great real estate agent comes in. Not to make your decisions for you. Not to push you to make a decision. But rather to help you sort through the whole “On one hand / on the other hand” wrestling match, so you can decide which decision is best for you, throughout the many decisions you have to make when buying or selling a house. The only thing I can say is the absolute right decision when you buy or sell a home is, you should make me your right-hand guy. I love helping my clients figure out the best decisions for their unique situation and choices. (at Tampa, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1HI8tfpQKM/?igshid=1nbqfihgjy6m5