#which is absolutely fair

[hoperays-song]

The Best of The Worst

Johnny, scrolling through his phone: Americans are the worst.

Ryan, a bit concerned: But not me, right?

Johnny, waving a hand dismissively: I’m biased, you’re different.

Ryan, grinning: Oh, ok then.

[littlepurplenerds]

going to berlin in january with school, and i’m realising that i have NO MONEY

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 781: Three wheels!!

Pag 1

1: Ohhh... this fence?

2: He jumped over it!?

With a bicycle!?

As he was riding it!?

3: Ahaha you're lying

That can't be, Taa-kun

4: It's true... I saw it!

There's no way he jumped over it

He showed me a jumping technique called bunny something!

You said that guy is running in the race now?

Ye!Yeah!!

Pag 2

1: Then if it's true, should we go see him?

The television there is showing the race, right?

If he's such an amazing cyclist then he'll play a big role in the race, right?

3: Onii-chan....

4: It's exciting, they're arriving here at the sprint line

The race is at its climax

How does this guy looks like

Uhm, huh

5: He- he wears sunglasses and they're huge

But he might have takes them off.... he's very tall and his hair are chestnut color....

There's an “R” written on his pants

Ehh, he's realistic (haha)

Pag 3

1: Taa-kun, you're practicing with your bike yet you haven't improved at all

Hahaha

2: So... if I practice I'll be able to do it too one day?

Of course

If you fall a lot, and skin your knees a lot, and eat a lot

3: And he had really beautiful eyes!!

4: It would be so cool if someone like that actually existed

Let's find an “R”, an “R” (haha)

Huh... it's true!

5: Hahaha

6: Three people are neck and neck before the sprint line

Please look!

Pag 4

1: Because there's a small kid

Pag 5

1: cheering for me

Pag 6

1: 30m left!!

2: They're still neck and neck and the sprint line is getting closer!!

Pag 7

1: The sprint line!!

2: This year for sure I'll take it!!

3: Impulse!!

Pag 8

1: It's an “R”

A person with beautiful eyes

Chestnut color hair

3: Amaziing...!!

Do your best, Onii-chan!!

Pag 9

1: Doubashi-san!!

2: Kaburagii!!

Pag 10

1: I'll take it!!

2: Pedal!!

3: I won't yield!!

Pag 11

1: I'm right

I'm Hakogaku

The right person wins

2: I'll be the one to prove it!!

3: This is why I gained experience

4: To win the spot of number one in Japan!!

5: MTB and road racing are different

In MTB you're always....

6: you always fight alone!!

Pag 12

1: Three people are jumping towards to sprint line!!

Pag 18

1: It's decided!!

Did you see? Just now

The one who controlled the sprint line is Gunma!!

Amazing

The last speed was terrific

2: From Gunma Ryosei, who's participating for the first time this year, number 181, the two times champion of the mountain bike Inter High....

Pag 19

1: Kiji Kyuui!!

Ah.....!!

2: It was hard

Yon

4: Well, I'll play a big role in the race, so watch it!

Cheer for me!

5: He really did play a big role....!!

Pag 20

1: Wait, who's that – Kiji, they said

Gunma!?

That guy caught up all on his own, and at the end he also lined up on his own....

2: And passed Hakogaku and Sohoku!!

3: Isn't this the first time in history? That an unknown cyclist takes the first result!?

He must have held those two down with his power!!

He rode in mountain bike until last year?

This year's Inter High is incredible

4: The flow is changing!!

[amanitacurses]

[basilbots]

Thinking about how now all of times they highlight differences between the twins, and that it is their differences that determined their fate. Bloody (Davis' twin) who lives Harvest (Reed's twin) who dies They both liked violence, but Harvest has always been more sadistic. Bloody gets to the point tearing their enemies apart, Harvest makes a point to talk about torturing FC as Foxy watches today. Neither wanted to give up violence, but Harvest is the one who rants about how they'll never change today. Speaking for the both of them, speaking over them. Bloody who didn't believe they could be killed so easily, even with the bomb in their head. Harvest who knew they could be killed, but didn't care because the other would keep going (right?). Bloody who is more anxious, who has a fear Frank forced them to face. Harvest who had no such fear, that Frank didn't say a word to.

Bloody lives Harvest dies. No person left to kill for revenge, just the knowledge that they are stuck undeniably alone.

[keykidpilipili]

I haven't seen folks talk about it but Arthur and John cleaning their inventory had interesting layers to it. <3

[leupagus]

The degree to which Davos and Brienne are going to become reluctant BFFs, because their lieges keep coming to them complaining about each other, is UNREAL

or, more from this fic that's slowly eating my life

~

Their journey to the Northern army's camp had revealed a great deal about Lady Stark and her lords and petty chieftains: their patronizing generosity, their gruff suspicion of outsiders, and above all their mind-boggling obstinacy. Ned and Lyanna had been much the same, from what he remembered, and Stannis had seen shades of it in Jon Snow, though couched more gently than he'd expected from a bastard. He'd imagined — insofar as he'd imagined her at all — that Lady Stark would be gentler still, her mother's line warming that chilled Northern blood.

He had been disastrously mistaken. It was a wonder only one Stark had survived, but it was already clear that she had gathered the entire share of Stark mulishness.

"I have conditions, Your Grace," said Lady Stark. "If this alliance is to succeed in retaking Winterfell, I feel it right that you hear them." She placed the parchment in her hand carefully on his table and stepped back, hands folded primly.

She had requested, and been granted, this conference shortly after Stannis's army had made camp alongside the Northern soldiers. Stannis's tent had barely been erected when she came to him with this parchment, her wolf, and a determined expression. He had thought he'd listened to her enough on the journey as she'd prattled away with Shireen, but he was in the mood to be permissive.

Reading through her list of demands, he could feel the headache building along his jaw and up through his skull. "Have you lost your mind?" he said, for the second time in a week to an unreasonable woman.

Melisandre had brushed his question aside, but Lady Stark was not made of such supple stuff; she stiffened and glowered at him. "That is a peculiar way to agree to my terms, Your Grace."

"Your terms are rather more than peculiar, my lady," he said, tossing the parchment back on the table.

In truth, the first one was not so peculiar: it said that should they regain the Keep, he would recognize Sansa Stark as Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North in her own right. He would not pass her over in favor of some lesser Northern male relative, nor would he obligate her to marry and rule only as companion to her husband. Considering Stannis's own intention to ensure Shireen sat on the Iron Throne after his death, he could hardly begrudge her this.

Considering the other two stipulations, however, he felt very much inclined to begrudge her everything.

"Supposing your younger brothers turn up?" he asked, thrusting his chin at the parchment. "Or Jon Snow is legitimized?"

This question didn't faze her, he suspected because it was a question of logistics and protocol rather than a personal remark. "If Jon is made legitimate, I don't believe he would want Winterfell—"

"Duty is not a question of wanting, Lady Stark," he reminded her. "And the Lord Commander is—"

"The Lord Commander, as you say, is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch," she retorted. "His life has already been pledged to the Wall. If he didn't abandon that cause in aid of my brother Robb, he won't abandon it now."

Stannis observed her. There was bitterness there, certainly, though less than he would have thought. Lady Stark clearly understood the ties that bound men to their duty, even if she did not like them.

"However," she continued, "Should any of my brothers wish to make a claim to Winterfell in my place, I won't stand against them." She paused for a moment, and added, "I have no wish to die at their hands out of misplaced pride."

Stannis clenched his jaw but let that go for the moment — it would be addressed soon enough. "You call me 'Your Grace,'" he said, tapping at the parchment, "Yet your second stipulation says that you will not bend the knee to me, even if I regain Winterfell for you."

"No, it says that I will not bend the knee to any claimant to the throne until they hold the majority of the kingdoms," she shot back. "The Lannisters hold the Crownlands, the Westerlands and the Reach at present. The Riverlands are still in chaos, the Vale has withdrawn from all alliances to sulk in their mountains, and both Dorne and the Iron Islands have declared for themselves, more or less. You can, at best, claim that the Stormlands still support you, though I've seen no evidence for it — they didn't march under your banner at first, did they?"

That was the second time she had brought up Renly, however obliquely. If she were trying to drive him mad, she couldn't go about it any better. "When I hold the North, my lady, I will have more land—"

"Setting aside the notion that it will be you alone who holds the North, you'll have more land and fewer men than any other region. If you wish to win against the Lannisters, you'll need more than mountains and glaciers fighting your battles. And if I wish to be Warden of the North, I can't keep the respect of my lords by swearing fealty to a man who has yet to earn it."

"I could have you burned for such talk," he said, getting to his feet and pouring himself some water, hoping it would ease the throbbing in his head.

"You don't burn nobles, you behead them," she replied cooly. "I should know. I was there when the Lannisters took my own father's head for supporting your claim to the Iron Throne. I have no intention of sharing his fate." She took a deep breath, and only then did he note that her hands had been clenched together, her right covering the balled-up fist of her left. "I won't take arms against you now or in the future, on that I give my word."

"And if I do have you beheaded?" he asked, putting the tin cup down before he crumpled it in his hand.

It seemed to amuse her. "Then my words will mean even less than they do now."

"They mean nothing, because you will not give them!" He pinched his nose and attempted to regain his composure. Surprisingly difficult, with this — child.

She regarded him for a moment. "You call me Lady Stark, Your Grace," she said, "but tell me, have you heard anyone else call me that?"

Stannis, thrown by the question, was forced to consider it. In truth, he had heard only Lady Sansa, though said with more reverence by her men and lords than he could ever recall being addressed himself. "You are Lady Stark."

"Not without Winterfell," she said, shaking her head. "It's more than just the home of the Starks, it is our…place in the world. We belong nowhere else. Just as there must always be a Stark at Winterfell, so too do we need Winterfell to truly be Starks." She gave him a pointed look. "Just as Your Grace needs the Iron Throne, and the fealty of all the Seven Kingdoms, to truly be king."

She was wrong, of course, but Stannis felt the same lurch in his belly whenever his footing slipped during a bout. "Perhaps your reticence has something to do with this last stipulation," he said instead, going back to the table and jabbing his finger at the third line. "Falsely accusing a king is treason."

"Is Lady Brienne falsely accusing you, Your Grace?" she asked, smooth as ice. Her hands were still clenched, he noted.

"I was nowhere near Renly's camp when he died," Stannis said, with perfect truth, even as he felt himself balanced on a knife's edge.

He had been nowhere near. He had woken up just before dawn with the lead weight of certainty in his belly, knowing what had happened — what the Red Woman had said must happen — and lying there, staring up at the tent's canvas, he had wept. Wept for the brothers he had loved and who had never loved him back. He would never know if Renly had had a hand in Robert's death; just as he would never know if he himself had had a hand in Renly's. Had he ordered Melisandre to kill him? Had he believed her when she said she could make such a thing come to pass? Davos had begged to tell him of what had happened in the cave that night, what monstrous thing the Red Woman had done to bring Renly's death about. Stannis had refused to hear it. Perhaps there was a sort of rough justice in facing his accuser now, the only one living who knew the truth.

"Lady Brienne has served me faithfully," said Lady Stark, "and my mother before me, at great cost to herself. I believe her testimony, Your Grace."

"Her testimony that I murdered my own brother."

Lady Stark regarded him steadily. "I will not insult either of you by declaring one more honorable than the other. But when I regain Winterfell, my duty as Warden of the North will be to adjudicate all such matters, and this falls under my purview. Even if you were crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms in the Red Keep itself, the North holds all persons, regardless of title, under its laws while they reside here."

"Renly didn't die in the North," was all he could manage to say.

"He died, Your Grace." Lady Stark looked almost pitying. "And for that, I'm sorry. I know what it is to lose your brothers. But on this point I will not waver."

"Is there any point on which you have?" he asked, curious.

She continued serenely. "Lady Brienne will be permitted to make her accusation publicly; how you respond to it is your affair, but if you prevail, you must give me your word now that she will not be held guilty of treason, nor will she be killed by any member of your party by any means." She put enough emphasis on the last two words to make her meaning plain.

"And if she prevails?" Stannis asked. "Your stipulations do not mention the outcome of the trial, only that it will take place." He smiled grimly. "Your father always said that he who passes the sentence should swing the sword, my lady. Will you behead me yourself?"

"I doubt either of us would find that a pleasant exercise, Your Grace," she said, her lip curling slightly. She didn't blanch, however; young as she was, she had seen worse. Had possibly done worse, if the rumors about the Purple Wedding were true. He'd not asked. "If you are found guilty, then you will ride south. If you win the support of the other kingdoms, the North will bend the knee to you. But you'll never come north of the Neck again. Does that satisfy?"

Stannis glanced down at the parchment again. There it all was, in black and white: the price he must pay for the North. The blasted girl had even provided a space for him to sign at the bottom.

"Not remotely," he said, but reached for his pen.

[sergle]

You seem like the closest to a trans girl that any cis girl has achieved

this is why amazon keeps recommending me thigh highs and headsets w cat ears on them...

[moonchild-in-blue]

Not forgiving yall for making me believe Price was a proper Tired Old Man™. What do you MEAN he is canonically 38/39 💀

and what do you mean Soap is like? 27? sir you are but wee boy. where are your parents.

[justsumtransdude2000]

And what if I wrote ATYD but for the Skittles? Huh? What if I write half a million words about Barty Crouch Jr. pinning over his bsf (and maybe Regulus' brother - hear me out!)?? Huh?? What if I write Regulus dying and Barty having to watch and it finally pushing him over the edge because Reggie was all he had left and he thought he was being careful??? What then??

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Suddenly somewhat sad Roy and Jamie didn’t get more violent with each other in 1x05, not because I’m Barbara and like them a bit bruised*, but because having them both getting red-carded would have been extremely funny.

And by extremely funny I mean them being sent to the dressing room all by themselves and worked up, and the tension and frustration and anger and shame and—

Because the thing is, they’d still be really fucking furious but without the presence of an audience spurring them onto Extra Performative Masculinity, and with the dawning embarassment of being sent off for fighting your own team mate and leaving your team two men down…

Mmm. Super tense. Uncomfortable. Weird. Could go a number of ways, and they’re all really fucking delightful.

[sleepyslag]

I'm an audio transcriber like. As my career. So I might go through all the recordings I can find tomorrow and make proper verbatim transcripts.

[sincerely-sofie]

Continuing from this post:

Bud doesn’t handle seeing Dusknoir very well at first.

Don’t worry, she warms up to him eventually.

[krotiation]

My favorite thing to do in sims is to get unhinged screenshots of Jack

[terribly-late-for-tea]

Me, a Canadian with no legal access to Prodigy's second season: I wonder what's new on the JC side of Tumblr today...

[neosatsuma]

every time Stephen is in a secondary location and then comes back Jack is like *golden retriever voice* "I thought you died forever 🥺" and it gets me every single time