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bby-deerling · 6 months

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birthday cake (zoro x fem!reader)

more zoro fluff, i'm on a roll lately. recently discovered i share a birthday with brook (even though it's currently ages away), and got this silly little idea. wc 1k, zoro bullies sanji. same reader as my other zoro x reader fics!

Though it may not appear so to an outside observer, Zoro hangs onto every word you have ever said, absorbing them all like a sponge. It scared him at first, worrying he was getting distracted from his training, but over time he figured that singularly focusing on swordsmanship left him with a lot of empty space in his head to fill. The things you tell him; your poetic musings, all the technical aspects of the paintings you create, your darkest fears, and your eclectic range of knowledge about almost any topic all get filed away in the back of his brain.

His crew often found themselves flabbergasted when Zoro pulled this information to the forefront. When Chopper wonders aloud how lasers work, he grabs a napkin and sketches diagrams to accompany his explanation that was at least eighty-percent correct. When Robin comments on the ever developing impressionistic style of your pieces, she is quite amused that he has quite a lot to say about your brushwork as of late, going so far as to compare the way you hold your brush to his grip on his swords; you had stopped choking up so far on your brush at his suggestion to help increase the fluidity of your marks and seen a large amount of improvement in your work as a result. During the two years he spent on Kuraigana, he drove Perona up a wall whenever he caught her reading a book he recognized and gave her his very strong opinions on the characters that were entirely based on a brief synopsis you had given him.

That’s why it makes him absolutely crazy when he realizes the stupid, shitty cook has forgotten your birthday, one of the most basic, mundane things about you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Zoro had asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“Nothing too far out of the ordinary. I suppose I’ll make a cake despite the fact that Brook can’t really taste it; I know Luffy will want to throw a big party—” Sanji began, before being cut off.

“Moron. Aren’t you forgetting something?” Zoro asks, voice dropping and laced with venom.

Sanji goes pale white with the realization that you shared a birthday with Brook—he had bought you a gift ages ago and forgotten about it, the exact date vaporizing into thin air.

“I can’t believe you forgot it’s her birthday too, especially after all the nonsense she did for yours last month. I told her it wasn’t worth it, but she insisted anyways.” Zoro hisses, jaw clenched.

Sanji ignores Zoro’s hostility and begins flipping through recipes, deciding on an elaborate, three tier sponge cake with strawberry flavored icing.

“She doesn’t want that.” Zoro said, staring over his shoulder.

“Remind me what your job is here again, moss-head?” the cook asks, cigarette in his mouth snapping as he bites down on it in frustration.

Zoro goes to the cabinet that harbors his liquor stash and pulls out a small cardboard box he had bought at the last island. “This is what she wants. Do you have the special pan for it?”

Sanji examines the box of angel food cake mix and sighs. “I’m not feeding her cake mix for her birthday, moss-head. I’ll make one from scratch.” he says, swearing under his breath when he realized how much of a dent it was going to put into the ship’s supply of eggs due to the sheer amount of egg whites required.

“She wants the box mix. It’s what she grew up having. If you won’t make it I will.” Zoro insists, pushing the box back towards the cook. “You know those cookies she likes from that bakery on her home island? With tons of sugar piled on top?”

Sanji nods. “I’ve been there. Zeff and I stole the recipe years ago. It’s really just a basic sugar cookie—"

“They have to be in the shapes of lambs.” Zoro said. Sanji desperately searches the moss-head’s face for any sign of him not being serious, but he turns up empty.

“Where the hell am I going to get a cookie cutter shaped like a lamb in the middle of the ocean?” Sanji snaps, secretly grateful for Zoro’s assistance but nonetheless vexed by his the swordsman’s demanding tone.

“Dunno, but you better figure it out soon.” Zoro says with a shrug, thoroughly enjoying the emotional turmoil that this entire situation was causing Sanji. “Ask Usopp or Franky to make one for you, though who knows if they’re willing at this hour.” Sanji clenches his jaw and nods and picks up a napkin that Zoro has scribbled a rough sketch on, making a mental note to bring it to Usopp later.

As Zoro turns to walk out of the kitchen, Sanji can’t help but throw him one last remark, despite not being in the position to do so.

“I’m surprised you remembered all this, moss-head. I thought all that was between your ears was empty space and ear wax.” he says, not looking up from his recipe book.

“You’re surprised I pay attention when she talks?” Zoro asks incredulously. Sanji sighs, knowing he practically walked into that one, and prepares for another verbal lash.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you her favorite meals too. Honestly, I don’t even see why we keep you around when you can’t even get this right without my help. Stuff like this is why Nami doesn’t give you the time of day, besides being an idiot pervert and all—”

“Out of the kitchen now, moss for brains.” Sanji snaps, shoving his boot into his back and kicking him towards the exit. Before he closes the door, Zoro pokes his head through the opening.

“No frosting.” he says. “Don’t forget.”

“None at all? You’re certain?” Sanji asks incredulously. Zoro nods affirmatively and slams the door to the kitchen, finally giving the cook some peace and quiet, fingers rubbing his temples to get rid of the headache that the swordsman had given him.

The next day, your shared birthday party with Brook in the Sunny's kitchen is the most memorable you’ve ever had, and you’re nothing short of amazed when Sanji pulls out cake and cookies identical to the kind your mother always served you.

The wonder in your eyes at how Sanji was able to replicate the desserts dissipates and is replaced by appreciation and understanding when Zoro grins at you and squeezes your thigh under the table, a silent admission that he'd helped the cook put everything together.

No wonder everything turned out so perfect; how could it not when he pays so much attention to what you need?

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #i feel a lil bit sorry for sanji in this lol #i love writing them arguing

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rbbrbikerthorp · 2 years

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“Mate, Can You Lend Me a Hand?”

My company had recently relocated to a new office development. Although much of the building work on the complex was complete, the two remaining buildings were still under construction. I’d often look out of my third floor office window and stare at the work crews. They would be decked out in their dirty yellow or orange hi-viz work gear, battered boots or wellies. I’d gawp down at them, their arms enveloped in tattoos, their shaved heads and most, at sometime or other, with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. I’d long had this internal conflict; on one hand I’d be glad that I was a married office worker living in ‘suburban bliss’. but on the other hand there was this burning desire to be a workie, getting my hands dirty, collaborating with my co-workers (however they needed support).

I liked to leave the house first thing in the morning, saying goodbye to my wife and giving an estimate of what time I’d be home. Once I’d parked my car it was a ten minute walk across the concourse to my office. I was usually there at such an early hour that I would rarely encounter anyone else. Generally I would also be too early to see anyone working at the new buildings. However, this morning was different.

“Oi mate, can you give us a hand?” Was he talking to me? There was no one else on the path, so I looked around to see one of the workmen on the ground calling at me from the other side of the safety fence. He was kitted out in a full workers hi-viz uniform, work boots, maybe wellies, it was hard to tell. He wore a yellow hard hat and black gloves that looked like they were made of rubber. I remember thinking just how amazing he looked in his protective gear.

I didn’t know what to do. He appeared to be in trouble, but I worked at a desk, what could I do? I looked around me but there wasn’t anyone else in sight. Instinctively I dropped my bag and looked for a way to get through the site safety fence to help this poor fella who was struggling on the ground. I managed to find a gap in the fence and forced my way through.

“Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”

“Thanks mate, I thought I could do this on my own but as you can see I’m not having much luck. See this? I just need someone to control the flow, which you do using that value there.”

“Really? Look surely you’re better waiting for one of your workmates to help. I work in an office over there” (pointing upwards and to my right).

“Nah, you can do it, but I’ll need to get you something to wear so you don’t get as filthy as me. C’mon! I’m Dave by the way.”

“James, it’s good to meet you.

I followed this hi-viz stranger. We quickly arrived at one of those portable buildings they have on building sites.

“Right in here.”

“In there? Really?” I questioned.

“Yes, come on. We need to be quick. Let’s get you kitted out, we’ll get the job done and you can go about your business...”

Dave looked desperate. I knew he was in some sort of trouble, so the inner good samaritan stepped up to the plate. I reluctantly climbed up the stairs and into building. As I walked through the door a strong smell hit me straight away. It not only made my head spin and but bizarrely my cock began to jump to attention. Something I’m pretty sure Dave took note of. The air in the room must’ve been a stale mix of cigarette smoke, B.O, foot odour and even possibly urine from the toilets. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and get some fresh air in my lungs.

I saw Dave light up a cigarette, he offered one to me.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke. I didn’t think you were allowed to smoke inside buildings.” I asked

“The gaffer turns a blind eye. He’s happy to let things like that go so long as the job gets done. Sure you won’t have one?”

I shook my head from side to side.

“Maybe later then?” Dave took a long drag and exhaled a plume of smoke into the room. No wonder everything stank of smoke.

On a bench was a pile of work gear: Orange and yellow hi-viz overalls and boiler suits, tops that were similar to the polo shirt I’d wear on weekends, trousers and a couple of pairs of boots.

Dave grabbed some items, “here take these.”

“What you want me to wear that mucky gear?”

“You will if don’t want to ruin your expensive suit.”

“Well...”

“I’ll make it up to you, but just get a move on. Take your socks and underwear off too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Those socks are no good for boots.. I’ve got no underwear but you can go commando. You’ve got showers in your office building so you can always use one later. Now put these on.”

Dave handed me a pair of ’not that dirty, but not that clean’ socks. I put them to one side while I slipped out of my jacket, removed shirt off and dropped my trousers.

“Here, give me those and I’ll put them in my locker,” with that he disappeared around a corner taking my shirt, jacket and trousers. I remember wondering why I’d not heard a locker door slam shut.

I’d just finished putting on my workie gear when he came back. He went over to a rack and selected a hard hat for me.

“Dave, my bag. I left my bag by the fence. I need to get it. I need it it’s got“

He interrupted me, “you’ll need to put on one of these,” and he placed it on my head

"My b...” all of a sudden I stopped. i couldn’t form any words. I remember Dave looking at me, saying one word. “Perfect. Now let’s go follow me Jimmy.”

I was about to say something about my name but felt compelled to follow Dave. As I was about to walk out of the building, but I couldn’t help but take a quick glance in a mirror. I saw Dave turn around, he was definitely smirking. I sensed an arousal in my groin too.

“Yeah,” Dave continued, “you’ll be a good builder’s labourer. Follow me.”

The smell of the workie gear I’d been given was infiltrating your nose - some combination of cigs, B.O., piss and something else. Strangely, I also remember being continually aroused by the stink. I’m not sure whether it was just the awful smell or something else. But since I’d put the hard hat on my mind felt a bit hazy. I couldn’t quite work out what I was doing and why I was here.

“C’mon Jimmy, we need to get this done in the next 15 minutes, or it won’t be ready when the concrete arrives.”

As I walked, I realised my cock was now rubbing against the trousers. Even outside, I kept inhaling the strange musk from the clothes - that mix of sweat, B.O., Piss and was there also the smell of cum? We quickly reached the spot where I’d first found Dave. Just for a moment I thought there was something I needed to look for. Dave noticed me looking around and quickly walked over to me. He lit up a cigarette, inhaled and blew the smoke in my face. As I was coughing and spluttering, I felt him rub my cock through my hi-viz trousers.

“Yeah that’ll do nicely my lad” he said, inhaling and once gain blowing the smoke in my direction. “Sure you don’t fancy a cig, I’ve got plenty?”

Anyway, even with my hazy mind I shook my head as if to say no. In no time at all, together Dave and I had finished what he couldn’t do alone. A good job too, because just then we heard the ‘beeps’ from reversing of the concrete truck. A guy I’d not seen before who was talking on a phone joined; he looked like he was in charge or something like that. I was having trouble thinking straight.

“Ah Dave, Is this the new one we talked about. How’s he getting on?”

“Hey Paul, yeah this is Jimmy. He’s a bit slow,” replied Dave, “but once everything is processed, I think I’ve got a keeper. Jimmy this is Paul our Foreman.”

I was pretty sure Dave was giving me the sort of smile you give someone you fancy. Paul interrupted my thoughts.

“Good,” turning to me, he tapped me several times on the shoulder, “welcome to the team.” He moved in closer to Dave, and said something I couldn’t hear. I’m sure I heard Dave say something about a bag or case to which Paul pointed to a large skip covered in rubble. Paul turned back to me and smiled. “Right, Dave will sort out your processing Jimmy and you’ll get your assignment.”

Just then Dave nudged me, “Right, let’s get you changed, come on.”

With that we walked back to where the portable cabins we sited. This time instead of going in the one where my clothes were, we went into an adjoining one.

“My clothes are in the other one.”

“Yeah, but the sinks and showers are in this one. I thought you might want to get cleaned up before you put your fancy suit back on.”

I didn’t question Dave, he knew what to do, so I followed him through the door. The room was already quite smokey. There was another guy in the cabin, who looked like he was getting undressed.

“Hi Tom”

“Dave. Who’s this?

“James, but he’s going to be Jimmy, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about? I just want to get back into my clothes and get on with my day.” I was becoming annoyed.

“Nah, that’s not going to happen Jimmy.” Dave nodded towards Tom, “I think I might need some help.”

“No problem Dave.”

Tom walked over to me, with his nose ring, he looked quite intimidating. “You know Jimmy I was like you once. Working 70-80 hours a week, freaking out about spreadsheets, worrying about numbers. Then I went through the process and life became much simpler. Got a job on the site here and now have the best life ever. A wonderful boyfriend, and so will you too.”

I started struggling, “Nooooo, I’m married.”

Just then Dave returned carrying what looked like a pair of headphones, “hold him steady Tom.”

“He’s not going anywhere Dave”, Tom responded.

“Right,” Dave said, “See these? These are specially adapted ear defenders that will complete your processing.”

The fact that my head had been hazy all the time I’d been wearing the workie gear meant I didn’t have much fight in me anyway. But I wasn’t giving up that easily. I clenched my fists - I don’t know what for because I’d never punched anyone in my life. I tried pulling away from Tom. But, in that instant Dave pressed a red button, he stepped forward and dropped the ear defenders over my skull. At which point Tom let go of me.

Dave and Tom watched as my struggles almost immediately diminished and I felt my jaw become slack, and my fists unclenched. I could hear something playing in the headphones. By now my arms felt limp, and my body was relaxed.

Dave noticed the change, “that’s much better, isn’t it Jimmy?” Dave pushed me down onto a bench, "Much better to just relax and listen to the voice. Just listen to the voice and we’ll be back."

The voice started whispering to me, “It feels good to be a labourer, it feels good to work with your hands, you like to wear your hi-viz uniform, it feels good to be a builder, forget your old life, to let go of all that responsibility, it feels good to be a tradesman. Say goodbye to all the stress, no more reports, no more documents, the company will look after you, you’re one of the team, you love being one of the team. You’re gay, you have no interest in women, only men interest you now. You know why? Because you’re a good workie. They help one another out, only men know how to relieve other men, You love being one of the team, you love to follow orders, you love the smell of hard work, you love the smell of real men, you love your uniform, you will obey all commands. Over an over it repeated, but as time went on new sentences appeared. “...you like to wear your hi-viz uniform, forget your old life, to let go of all that responsibility, you’re a gay man, Dave is your partner, you love Dave, Dave makes you happy, Dave will teach you how to satisfy other men. Your old life is over, you’re no longer interested in women, you’re only interested in hard men. Your head will be shaved. company regulations require shaved heads on all workies. Over and over the words kept coming at me.

I don’t know how long I was in that room, but day had turned to night because I was suddenly aware of the lights going on. I felt the headphones, which I learnt are ear defenders being removed. I remained seated.

There was a voice, “What are you?”

“I’m a good workie,” I replied looking up at my boyfriend Dave.

“Who will look after you Jimmy lad?”

“The company will”, I replied.

“Do you like women?”

“No”, I responded sternly.

“Who makes you happy?”

“You do, I’m gay.” I replied looking upwards longingly.

Dave smiled, he knew the processing was successful. “Right, the first thing you need to do now is send two text messages. One to your boss to say you’ve quit with immediate effect to take a better more rewarding job.”

“Yes, sure. Who’s the other one for?”

“The other one needs to be sent to Kate to say you’re leaving her and she can have the house and everything else. Tell her you’ve realised you’re gay, you’re moving on and there’s no point her contacting you.”

Dave handed me my phone and I did as instructed. I looked up at him and said, “Done.”

“Give the phone back to me.”

I passed it to him and watched him pick up a hammer and smash it into pieces.

"No going back. Now, let’s get your head shaved, you can’t be a good workie with that rats nest on your head.” With that he took my hand and led me over to a chair. There were some clippers already placed on a table.

Dave made quick work of my hair. Very soon I had a zero crop.

“There, done!” Dave rubbed my head, and was seemingly pleased with the outcome. Right stand up, I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time I saw you.” And with that Dave leaned in and started snogging me.

I opened my mouth to reciprocate and could taste his smokey breath. He reached down and felt my growing erection. I just moaned into the ongoing assault on my mouth.

Dave pulled away, “you like that Jimmy boi?”

I could only nod in response.

“Yeah, gonna get you smoking too. Every workie smokes like a trooper, and you’ll be no different.” He got out his cigarette packet and took two out giving me one and taking one for himself. He held a lighter to mine as I inhaled. I coughed a bit, but I actually enjoyed smoking my first cigarette.

“You enjoyed that?” Dave asked. I just nodded in affirmation. “We’ll pay a visit to the tattooists this weekend because I wanna get your full-sleeve tattoos started. If you like you can also get some metal, maybe a septum ring like Tom has.”

We came together again in a passionate embrace.

Again Dave pulled away. “Right let’s get you home. I wanna take this up to the bedroom.”

That night Dave spent many, many hours finalising my processing in every way imaginable. I recall falling asleep in his arms dreaming about workies, tattoos, being fucked, getting pierced, boots, real men with shaved heads.

In just a few hours I’d gone from married office worker to doing a proper job as a gay workie with a wonderful boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier.

If you see two chain-smoking workies with tatts on their arms, rings in their ears and nose, full hi-viz clobber it might be Dave and me. Come over and say “hi”. You never know the gaffer might have an opening for you.

#workie #hi-vis #hi-viz #boots #wellies #hard hat

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kentoberry · 1 year

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WRECK MY IMAGE — KAMISATO AYATO.

⭒— SUMMARY · your new landlord changed the date that your rent was due, and you can't pay ! it's time to consider other methods of payment. . . [ full tags utc. ]

⭒— CONTENT · landlord ayato / modern au, slight subspace, degradation, begging, bondage, toy use, teasing, fingering, clit slapping, cream pie.

three sophisticated raps on your door told you exactly who was on the other side: it was the conceited landlord that had recently bought your building, undoubtedly a rich asshole who’d spent his life having everything handed to him by mommy and daddy.

instead of waiting for your answer, he invited himself in, simply pushing past you to enter your quaint studio apartment. you couldn’t help but notice just how out of place he looked, bespoke designer clothing giving him a rather elevated and sleek look, whereas your apartment was a little bit more untidy and cluttered with an ever-growing collection of your belongings.

“i like what you’ve done with the place,” sarcasm dripped from his elegant voice, making you roll your eyes at his condescending tone - something gave you the idea that he’d never be satisfied with your own interior design choices. you pictured what you thought his apartment looked like, the penthouse nearest the top of the building. a white, sleek interior, as clean as a staged home and with zero evidence of his own personality, but rather shelves filled with sophisticated world literature that he had no plans to ever read himself and some bespoke, untouched, and what would likely be forever unused marble countertops in the kitchen.

“to what do i owe this honor, mister kamisato?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your voice as you couldn’t help but be already irked by his sheer presence.

“no warm welcome? tsk, you could at least offer me a drink, sweetheart.” he sighed at your subsequent silence, not bothering to continue his antics if you were not going to jab back at him. you’d asked him a question and wanted as little interaction with the man as possible, thus you remain stoic and awaiting his response.

“your rent is late.”

eyes grew wide, as though he’d made the most incredulous of claims. “it’s not due until next week. i don’t have the time for you to mess with me,”

“playing so hard to get,” he looked you up and down, piercing gaze feeling invasive as he clicked his tongue. “you should lighten up a little. check your mail next time, you were notified that the date would be changing whilst under the new and, dare i say, impeccable management of yours truly.”

you scoffed, heading over to the pile of unopened letters littering the counter. upon sifting through the envelopes, you found not one, not two, but three letters from the yashiro corporation, i.e. the people who owned the building. . . aka the blue-haired, slender figure stood before you.

with an exasperated huff, you collapsed back onto the couch. opening one of the letters, you found out that the date you should have paid was indeed last week, but also that your rent had increased a little. combined with prior stresses and your unexpected visitor, this was enough to tip you over the edge.

“why the fuck are you charging me almost double what this place is worth? i’m not paying this, ayato, fuck off. you can’t just expect me to pull dollar bills out of my ass!”

it was true, you were working yourself to the bone to make a living. you had taken on two jobs since moving to the city, accepted overtime wherever possible, as well as doing the odd things here and there just to make an extra dime. and at this rate, you’d be adding finding a new place to live to your already overfilled plate.

ayato was simply admiring the trinkets you had displayed on your shelves, his back to you whilst you raged at him. he let you finish your outburst, seemingly amused by your spunk.

“this area’s developing - new developments, new jobs, a new demand for the place. it’s just how the world works, sweetheart. if you don’t like it, i’m sure your lease is up soon enough. unless you’d like to pay the early termination fees, that is.”

his suave facade got under your skin. you wanted to call him a good for nothing leech who only thrived because of blood money, sucking dry the pockets of everyone who had actually worked for their living. tell him everything that he got was handed to him on a silver platter, whereas you had to try for what you wanted and that you earnt what you got. to demolish his ivory tower and enlighten him that no, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows down here.

although, would arguing with your landlord really help you out here? you wanted to use him as a punching bag, to spit out your anger on this prick who milked your bank account dry once a month. realistically, it would be impossible to find an apartment close to your workplaces, especially at the rates nowadays. in all honesty, the previous landlord had given you a pretty sweet deal with the place when you first moved in, so the current price gauges were roughly on par with the other apartments in the surrounding neighborhood.

“look,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. ayato turned to face you, his in depth inspections of your displays seemingly halted. “could you give me a week? i can ask my boss for my paycheck a week early, that should be enough to cover half at least. i’m sure someone will be willing to lend me the rest, just to tie me over this once-”

“or,” ayato cut you off, staring you down as though evaluating his food. “we can come up with another arrangement.”

curiosity got the better of you, listening intently to each word that passed the man’s lips. he was the one that had provided the initial amendments to your arrangement, and the fact that he was so willing to compromise rendered you dumbfounded, especially when he could kick you out oh so easily and find a better tenant who would willingly fall victim to his extortionate prices.

“i’ve seen how you look at me, sweetheart. all that anger is simply a ruse to hide your true feelings, hmm? there’s something about you that i can’t quite put my finger on. . .” ayato paused, taking few paces until he was standing in front of you. his index finger lifting your chin to force your gaze to meet his sharper one sent a chill down your spine.

“. . . you’re rather alluring, aren’t you? surely if you’re okay with it, i’m sure we can come up with another method of payment, princess.”

surely he wasn’t implying what you thought he was. . . no way would you sleep with your landlord just to waive rent for the month! it was utterly demeaning to whore yourself out in such way.

ayato’s eyes remained trained on you, indigo irises boring into you with such an intent focus that you worried that he was tuned in to hear your every thought. he leaned a little closer to you, enough that you could feel his faint breath ghost over the shell of your ear.

“you’re considering it, aren’t you, darling? why don’t we take this to your room, hmm?”

the man was attractive, that much was undeniable. you debated if you’d accept his proposition without the promise of free rent, to which you settled on a yes. hell, he was offering a quick fuck and you wouldn’t have to pay one bill this month? you’d be an idiot to deny it.

“down the hall, second door-” you began.

“to the left. you forget, i own this building, sweetheart.” he smirked, before adding under his breath, barely audible: “and everything in it, so it seems.”

tongues and teeth clashed against one another; you could feel his smug expression, mocking you for your neediness. ayato’s large hands reached around to fondle the fat of your ass, pressing you closer to him.

the move to your room was filled with a volatile concoction of haste and lust, as though a switch had been flipped and the only thing that each of you could think of was devouring the other.

ayato guided you to your mattress, barely giving you room to breathe. you began to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, impetuously working to remove the unnecessary clothing. that shit-eating grin remained ghosting his defined features, amused by how desperate he’d made you.

“no need to hurry, princess.” he started.

“‘s just get it over with,” you slurred slightly, only for ayato to take a step back. you propped yourself up on your elbows, lips already a little bit swollen and an incredulous look on your face.

“stop it with all that.” his tone grew more commanding, expecting you to listen to his orders without questioning them. “i’m the one doing you a favor. perhaps you need reminding of that, hmm?”

he moved closer towards you, anticipating you to pull him back in, though impressed when you remained still. a cool, nimble finger traced down the side of your face, as though inspecting your beauty. “what a pretty thing you are. . . i can’t help but think about how much sweeter you’ll look begging for my cock.”

your mouth fell agape, surprised at such lewd words rendering you speechless - something that, compared to your prior, tough-talking demeanor, shocked ayato. he took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt before collecting your wrists and positioning you to lie against your pillows.

“i’ll be nice, unless you give me a reason not to be. do you plan on being a good girl for me, darling? after all, i’m not sure if i can clear the debts of a nasty brat.”

you mumbled in agreement, squeaky promises that you wouldn’t be bad. something about having your landlord towering above you cast a spell over you, his soft blue locks framing his face and fabricating the image of a perverse angel. you let him take control, fully submitting yourself to the man as he carefully slipped your shirt over your head. ayato proceeded to utilize his belt to craft makeshift restraints, fastening your hands to the headboard.

“perfect,” he muttered, eyes focused on your chest. he placed an uncharacteristically sloppy kiss to your sweet lips before heading south, groping your tits over the lace of your bra as he sucked a pretty mark onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder; subtle enough that you could hide it, though satisfactory enough to brand your body as another property that he owned.

though you tried to reach out, wishing to bury your hands in those untidy blue locks, yet were halted by your binds. the only noises leaving your mouth were tiny pleas for more, combined with frequent whines as you pulled your wrists forwards. ayato could only tut, leaning in to your ear to whisper that “only good girls get to cum.”

you failed to hold back whimpers as ayato removed your bra, taking one nipple into his mouth as slender fingers glided over the other. embarrassment crept over you, both from feeling so very exposed and helpless, and from feeling like a common slut whose sleeping with somebody for her own benefit.

ayato’s tongue swirled over the hardening bud, nibbling at the sensitive skin every now and again just to admire the way that your back arched ever so slightly in response. his cock stiffened with each sweet sound that slipped past your lips, suddenly becoming aware that he would struggle to do anything but bury himself inside your wet cunt soon enough.

all you managed were strangled, wanton moans as ayato pulled away from your chest, once again tugging at your restraints subconsciously.

“patience, princess,” he muttered, which was fairly hypocritical given his intentions. he peeled himself off of your helpless form, leaning over to your bedside drawer. you could hear him mumble something about condoms, using the last part of your sanity to yelp a “stop!” as he opened the drawer.

your face flushed deep red with embarrassment, praying to any gods above that your landlord, your fucking landlord, had missed the hot pink vibrator that your kept stored in that drawer. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the worst, however the snicker that your heard told you that he’d located the object. the faint buzzing only confirmed your fears.

“well, well, well. it seems that my princess is nothing more than a dirty whore, hmm?”

ayato situated himself between your legs, peeling away any remaining clothing until you were in nothing but your panties. “open your eyes,” he commanded. one little kiss to your inner thigh was all it took to coax you out of the sheepish state that had overcome you.

he fired up your toy once again, the head of the silicone ghosting over your slit. ayato used it as an experiment, teasing and toying to best discover how to elicit the most salacious noises from you. he wanted you to beg for him, to beg for his cock, to reach such a point of neediness that you relinquished every last shred of control to him.

“please,” you begged between pants, trying your absolute best to keep your head above water. “more, need more,”

trademark smugness painted his cheeks, egos continuing to grow at the sight of you in such a vulnerable position. ayato would have been more than happy to spend the remainder of the afternoon teasing you, watching that already-visible wet patch on your panties grow even larger, but the bulge constricted in his pants was becoming impossible to ignore.

“what do you need? use your words, princess,”

you didn’t want to give in, you really didn’t. internally you were degrading yourself for being such a cheap slut, for letting yourself be used in exchange for a bill to be waived. yet ayato had a grip over you, turning you into putty in his hands.

“cock. . .” you began, mind already hazy, “need you to fuck me, please, please, please,” you even made your best puppy dog eyes to the man, batting doe-like eyelashes to better plead your case.

you whined as ayato turned off the vibrator, pulling away to remove his own clothes. you knew the man was attractive, but without clothes, you saw a grecian muse, unable to resist your jaw slackening ever so slightly. the bed shifted as you tugged on your restraints once again, desperate for some sort of friction.

“so needy, aren’t you? what a sweet thing. . .”

ayato crept forward, dipping the mattress. he placed a kiss to your lower stomach, gaze hungry as he looked up to you, so vulnerable, so very delectable. at a painfully slow pace, he peeled away your panties, watching your reactions to the cool air hitting your exposed cunt.

the man pushed your thighs further apart, ego inflating as you squirmed weakly for him. he dragged two fingers through your folds, smirking at the string of slick connecting his digits to you. “all of this just for me, hmm?”

you’d given up on articulating any adequate verbal responses, simply reduced to moans as ayato’s thumb caught your puffy clit. he had you exactly where he wanted you: desperate, needy, begging for his touch. he wanted to further the teasing, though something in him told him that in the future there would be apt opportunity to turn you into his pliant little whore.

instead, ayato settled for positioning you in just the way he desired, lining his cock up with your weeping hole. he was long, prompting babbles from you that expressed concerns that it wouldn’t fit.

“shh, princess,” ayato cooed, reaching out to cup your cheek. the gesture was tender, as though he’d dropped this hardass facade that he typically displayed, only for it to reappear a moment later in the form of a harsh “i’ll make it fit.”

whilst you were left to internally debate whether or not that was a promise or a threat, ayato plunged two fingers inside of you, digits gliding with ease and filling the room with lewd wet noises. he had to hold back his own groans, mind wandering to how fucking sweet your walls were going to feel gripping his cock if they already felt so damn divine clamping down on his fingers. after a few additional flicks of his wrist, ayato once again left you to whine over being denied release.

however, you couldn’t exactly complain. the speed at which ayato’s fingers were replaced with his cock was surprising. he eased his already leaking tip into you, hand resting on your stomach for leverage as the other held your thigh, keeping you spread out for him.

your slippery cunt sucked him in, hips bucking ever so slightly to meet ayato’s own as he pushed deeper inside of you. you could feel the knot in your stomach already forming and growing painfully tight after such a short period, mentally preparing yourself for ayato to leave you on the edge once again.

the room became flooded with a melody of whines and pants, an orchestra of skin slapping against each other. ayato’s cock filled you up and stretched you out, his thrusts precise and possessing what appeared to your borderline delirious state as an inhumane speed.

if his belt wrapping your wrists was any looser, you were convinced that the binds would have been broken. you wanted to pull yourself closer to ayato, to chase your own high rather than be subjected to whatever he chose to lay upon you. to think that the blue-haired man didn’t notice this wouldn’t be short of idiocy, for you could hear the clicks of his tongue as his movements slowed.

“princess,” his tone threatening, “i thought that you promised to be good, hmm? does someone need to be taught a lesson?”

you whined, words feeling foreign yet the way your cunt clamped down on him at such a lewd threat (or rather, promise) seemed to provide the answer that he wanted.

ayato drew his hand back to land a harsh slap to your clit, chuckling to himself as you clenched your eyes tight shut at the stinging sensation. amused enough to repeat the action, he smacked your sloppy pussy a few times before your pretty little lips began spilling apologies for him.

“good fucking girl,” he spat, chest further swelling with pride as it appeared that he was worn you down enough for now.

ayato pushed your knees up to your chest before thrusting back into you, drooling pussy even more exposed for him and ready to be filled. you could feel the head of his cock kiss your cervix periodically, your back arching at the sensation.

“‘m g’na cum,” you slurred, “‘lease, can i, please, ‘ll be so good,”

he could tell how far gone you were, fucked dumb on his cock for his eyes only. you looked absolutely angelic to him, such a pretty thing all messy underneath him. his mind ticked over. . . surely you deserved a reward, right?

ayato reached for your vibrator once again, flicking the toy on and pressing it against your pulsing clit. screams of euphoria fell upon his ears, your velvety walls gripping ayato’s cock as you came undone with a cry of his name. he praised you as you came down from your high, triggering his own orgasm as he twitched inside of you.

sticky ropes of ayato’s cum spilled from your cunt, a sickeningly sweet concoction of your releases dirtying your bodies and the sheets below you. he made quick work of freeing your wrists, gently caressing the red marks on your skin with an uncharacteristic amount of care before slumping down next to you, bubblegum locks splaying all over your pillows.

“next month,” his voice remained ragged and raspy as he regained his breath, “my place. i have some of my own toys that i’d like to introduce to you.”

well, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about paying your rent anymore.

#kentoberryposts #kamisato ayato smut #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #ayato x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you

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incarnateirony · 9 months

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I think the most profane thing in all of this was the smugness of the studios. They're only just now admitting to the public that this is going to impact movie and TV schedules, and started by saying "may impact" even as recent as a week or two ago, while the older CEOs that already got out and ran in the past are now going, "No, this is about to turn into catastrophic collapse of the entire industry, if this drags on till christmas these businesses will not even have the money to order anything."

Even Zaslav is shifting uncomfortably now going, well, we need a resolution, all the projections (that we convinced investors and the stock market of) are based on September back to work date. And he said that Thursday, and they failed to come to an agreement Friday.

They have, at best, one more shot at this in the next few weeks, before that "September back to work" date of Zaslav disappears into the bullshit wormhole he's been pulling it out of.

Even *if* everyone got to work *tomorrow*, it still takes months to write, develop, put things through pre-prod. And the holidays are coming full of stop gaps. Things wouldn't even start filming till like, new years break ends. And then shows want a few buffer months of filming ahead, so you'd be looking at a Spring schedule at best. And that says nothing for piled up double bookings for creatives and actors, et al, pushing things out and out and out.

Like, let me use Supernatural for example. It used to run Sept-Apr or so, then eventually moved Oct-May. When a season ended in mid May, even before any official renewal, authors were passing around next season ideas, and had initial drafts by, say, late June of where they were going to go with arenas and assigning future writing assignments over the team. Then July and August are actually, you know, writing it and pushing it through other pre-production phases, including studios sticking their dicks in to bounce it back, and the network, and whatever else. That's why there's multiple drafts--Writer, Network, Production. Then by late August and into September they're filming, and in SPN's case, it was 8 days/episode. This varies per show, 6-10, but 8 is a good average anyway. Weekends aren't included, so you can generally get about 3 episodes in a month done, give or take. And they like to have about in the bag before air, for a plethora of reasons. So a late August filming > Sept > Early Oct is like 6-7 weeks filming for five episodes.

While minor details may change on different shows, this is a general rhythm to account on, and it's a show of good averages all around.

So with this in mind, the writers haven't written SHIT because STRIKE. So this entire quarter is bumped at least into next, and then filming into next year, and so on.

And they *might not even get back to work by SEPTEMBER*. Then comes holidays and-- you see the problem here. Even some top reality shows are sort of off the table due to their hosts being part of SAG. Reality stars are even muttering about unionizing and discontent with pay, production groups not covered are falling in under IATSE who is this close to joining the rave.

And all they had to do was agree to pay fairly months ago. But they thought people would give up, that people would accept rewashed fodder instead of losing subscribers, that they could snow investors with "free cash flow" from not ordering things, even knowing they were going to reduce ordering anyway because they were in the red from over-ordering to pad content libraries in streaming. So some +100M cash flow is actually real pitiful when it should have another zero behind it. They are feeling it, and realizing, they did a fucking dumb. Penny pinching their work crew is going to tumble several media empires at this rate, but they STILL didn't come to the table properly and for real last time.

Like they Do Not Get It. The unions aren't going to stop, or bend. The unions want double payrate, and mostly should get it, or at least real damn close. But they kept offering pennies as if they had empty coffers while raking in hundreds of millions for CEOs, and those CEOs are about to lose everything from their refusal to break from their greed.

The industry was already due for a content retraction, but the least they could do is say, yeah, sure, we'll pay the people we DO hire fairly.

A lot of authors and actors are going to find themselves struggling for work after this regardless, but it's the kind of job they've already been working other jobs around. So "starving them out" was never gonna work, the suits never got that. All they want is fair returns for when they DO get work. But companies are proving they'd rather commit suicide than do that. And now, they're panicking, realizing, maybe they shouldn't? But what do now while running out of money?

WB's current plan for example involves selling off a lot of its international and sports networks, but the irony is, that's the only thing keeping them floating, but they're reaching a point of no other choice. At this rate these studios are about to have to sell ALL their linear stations, bail from classic broadcast, and put everything into streaming. Otherwise, we're watching their slow fall.

#wga strike #sag strike

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rhondafromhr · 4 months

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Nerds corruption au chapter 4!!

Took me awhile before I was happy with this one but it’s finally done!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“We’re Gonna Become the Bullies” - Chapter 4: I’m The One To Wrong What’s Right

Grace starts her day the same way she always does: waking up to the shrill buzzing sound of her alarm far too early in the morning. She hates to admit it (sloth is a sin, after all), but every once in a while it would be nice to hit snooze a couple times. There’s no time for that, though. She has to do her sweep of the school bathrooms to check for graffiti. She has to make sure the side exit to the gym is safely locked so nobody can sneak out to “smoke up” during class. As hall monitor, it’s her sworn duty to keep Hatchetfield High safe from all the troublemakers trying to normalize sin and drag everyone down to hell with them. She figures it’s the least she can do to atone for the perverse thoughts she was having about Max Jägerman up until the Waylon place incident. Among other, more recent developments.

Then there’s the whole thing where she’s kind of friends with Maxwell now, along with everyone else who was involved in that prank. She brought that hatchet and the other supplies that night expecting a very different outcome (the specifics of which are between her and God now, since it never came to be. Only He can judge her), but this is intriguing, too. Being the “school snitch” only gives her so much power. Sure, she can issue a detention slip or run and tell a teacher, but she knows in the end all it does is get people to be sneakier about whatever they were doing wrong next time. Being in Max’s inner circle opens up a world of possibilities. People are scared of him and there’s not a lot they won’t do to avoid his wrath. It’s been a week and by now, everyone knows Max will absolutely fly off the handle at anyone who dares mess with the rest of the group. They’re also starting to realize that said group can be pretty intimidating in their own right and becoming more scared of them. Grace would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her.

She thinks back to that first Monday after the Waylon place, when Max first heard about Brad calling Peter that crass nickname. The righteous anger he exuded briefly brought that tickle back again. The next day at lunch, Max proudly recounted to the rest of the group the awesome punch Pete landed and how Brad ran away like a little bitch after and how Steph gave Brad the hardest slap with one hand while holding Pete’s in the other and wasn’t that the sweetest, most romantic thing ever. By the time he got to their stint in the principal’s office, she stopped listening, just imagining Peter and the crushing impact of his fist on Brad’s face. She thought about the slap over and over again, too: Steph raising her hand, staring down at Brad with rage burning in her eyes and bringing it down hard, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Her face, she realized with horror, was red, too, but for an entirely different reason. Oh, heck. Oh, no. Not again. But this was even more shameful than even the worst thoughts she ever had about Max. This was about two people at once, one of whom was another girl.

She tries to push away those thoughts for now and joins her parents at the breakfast table, where her usual cup of hot water is waiting for her. If they had any idea what’s really been going on with her, they’d probably send her away to live at Camp Idontwannabang with the Jerries permanently and the first time in her life, that doesn’t sound too appealing. So she’ll just have to continue acting like nothing’s wrong - essentially lying to them. Another sin to pile on top of all her others. As they say in that video game Richie likes: “gotta catch ‘em all.” Her whole life, all she’s ever wanted is to be a good, chaste, godly girl. It’s what her parents and her church friends have all come to expect from her. Not to mention God Himself. There must be something deeply wrong with her if she tries so, so hard to live up to this standard and still falls short. The feeling of being a failure is so crushing she can almost physically feel it bearing down on her.

“Gracie?” Her mother says gently, “Gracie, are you alright?” Grace realizes tears are stinging at her eyes. She strains to hold them back.

“Oh, yes, Mommy, I’m okay! It’s just allergies. I, um, stopped taking Benadryl. Even if it’s over-the-counter antihistamines, drugs are drugs! Might as well be smoking the devil’s lettuce. Oh, I should get going or I won’t be early for school!” She leaves hastily, not stopping for her usual kiss not the cheek.

“Wait!” her Mother calls after her “it’s raining cats and dogs today, you’ll catch a cold, let us drive you!” All she gets in response is the sound of the door closing.

As Grace rides her beloved pink Schwinn bike to school, she can’t hold back the tears any longer. It’s early enough that not too many people are out and about, so hopefully nobody sees. She supposes she could always use that Benadryl excuse again, it’s believable enough for her. When she pulls up in front of the school, she notices two familiar figures standing in front of the main entryway. Shoot, it’s Max and Richie! She hastily wipes her eyes and stops to park and lock up her bike before approaching them. She composes herself and goes into hall monitor mode, even if her heart isn’t in it. They’d better not be hanging out here waiting to buy reefer off of the smoke club.

“Hi, Max! Hi, Richie! What are you two doing here so early?” She says, trying to keep her tone as chipper as possible.

“Oh, we have an appointment we couldn’t possibly miss,” Max tells her. Great, so they are here to buy drugs! She can’t even save her own friends from the dark, dangerous path that starts with weed and eventually leads to them smoking much worse substances under a bridge somewhere. Maybe even in Clivesdale!

“Uh, yeah,” Richie says nervously. He rubs his fingertips together. “Chad Thompson called me a cringe-ass weeb back in seventh grade, so I guess we’re going to catch him on his way in and issue an ‘outdoor swirly’, whatever that is.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it, Richie, it’s the best! Really subverts expectations. No one would ever think they’re about to get a swirly outside.”

“Yeah, I see your vision, but I feel like I’m really not grasping the logistics. Like, there are no toilets out here, how is it even possible?”

Grace is vaguely familiar with the term (“weeb”, that is. She’s just as confused as Richie about the outdoor swirly thing). She’s pretty sure it refers to people who are into those Japanese cartoons that Richie likes so much. She’s actually heard him refer to himself that way a few times and sometimes Ruth calls him that, too. It never feels mean when she does it - it’s obvious she loves that Richie’s a “cringe-ass weeb” and she wouldn’t have him any other way. They might be two of the most lewd, crass people she’s ever met, but she has to admit their friendship is something special.

“I don’t get it,” she says “you call yourself a ‘cringe weeb’ all the time.”

“Well, he said it like it’s a bad thing! It’s not just the words we say, but the way we say them that can have a long-lasting impact. I learned that at the anti-bullying assembly!” Oh, Max and his anti-bullying quotes. Grace would never tell him this, but she thinks flipping them to be pro-bullying is quite creative of him. Entertaining, too. Sometimes, she just has to giggle at the absurdity of it. Her mood finally starts to lift. She’s glad she ran into her friends. Her friends. She can call them that now.

“Well,” she says “I’d better go do my morning perimeter sweep. See you later, boys!”

“Later, Grace!”

“Bye, Grace, see you at lunch!” Poor Richie still looks a little terrified.

The downpour lets up and becomes a light drizzle as she starts towards the gym, fully intending to go take care of that pesky side entrance so the smoke club can’t ruin class today. Then, on an impulse, she makes a u-turn. What can she say? She’s a little curious about the logistics of Max’s new trick, too. She watches as they accost Chad. Oh, an outdoor swirly just means shoving his face into the huge rain puddle that’s formed on the ground. Max does it first. He moves slowly and intentionally, giving Richie instructions to accompany the demonstration. Appropriating the very forces of nature to enforce his rule over Hatchetfield High. It’s actually kind of poetic. She wonders what his backup plan was if it didn’t rain.

Max hands Chad off to Richie. Chad struggles, but can’t seem to get free. Richie must be stronger than he looks. His hesitation disappears and he moves with more confidence, seeming to delight in the torment just a little. He pushes Chad’s face down into the puddle, holds it there for a second, then yanks him out so they’re face to face, leaning over him menacingly.

“Who’s the cringe-ass weeb now, bitch? Trick question, it’s still me! But I bet you’ll think twice before talking shit about it next time,” he says as he shoves Chad to the ground.

“You guys are un-fuckin’-hinged! I don’t care what anyone says, I’m reporting this. You basically just tried to drown me!”

Maybe Grace can be of some assistance. “I’m the hall monitor and that’s not what I saw,” she says.

“Oh, hi Grace! I thought you left to go do your rounds,” says Max, as upbeat as ever.

“What did you see, Grace?” There’s a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes.

“Well, Richie, I saw him shove you into that puddle. Completely unprovoked, no less. You were just standing here minding your own business. He held you down for a solid thirty seconds. I was scared he was going to drown you! I was about to go get a teacher, but then you finally broke free.”

“Fuck off, chastity belt! Who would believe that? He’s not even wet.” If Ruth were here, she’d have something to say about that phrasing.

“Well, for one, the principal would, because I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I’m the hall monitor and I’ve never given him a reason not to trust me. Who’s he going to believe between the two of us?” As childish as she knows it is, she can’t help but stick her tongue out at him. “How could you attack poor Richie like that? What’s he ever done to you?”

“Yeah! Oh my god, Richie, are you okay? That must have been traumatic for you,” Max says dramatically. It seems like he’s having fun with this.

“I’ll- I’ll live,” replies Richie, trying to sound meek and pathetic. It’s not too much of a reach for him.

“Your life is so hard and yet you’re so brave,” Max says with feigned solemnity. Richie pauses for a second, as if he’s debating what he should do next, then theatrically throws his arms around Max and buries his face in his chest. He adds a couple fake sobs for good measure.

“It’s okay, bro. It’s okay. We’ve got you.” Max smirks as he pats his back. Richie stays in position, but raises one of his arms in order to flip Chad off.

“God, fine, whatever!” Chad storms off.

“Grace,” Max says excitedly “that was awesome! You know, I always forget you’re the hall monitor.”

“Yeah,” Richie adds “We’ve really been sleeping on the potential for abuse of power!”

There’s a thought. She’s had real power this whole time, she wasn’t leveraging it to its full potential. It’s a shame - if she’d realized this sooner, she would’ve been much more effective at keeping the hallways free of debauchery. She’ll just have to make up for lost time.

“Just doing my job,” she says, now sporting her own mischievous grin.

And if she actually had fun hamming it up with Max and Richie and she’s a little proud that she was able to help them pull off their stunt, then that’s her business.

Before Grace knows it, it’s the end of the school day and she doesn’t feel like going home and being interrogated about this morning just yet. She sends her parents a quick text claiming that there’s an “emergency abstinence club meeting” and begins to wander the hallways aimlessly until she reaches the auditorium. She knows they’re currently doing rehearsals for The Barbecue Monologues. Ruth is always complaining about the actors flubbing their lines and messing up her lighting cues. Up until now, she hasn’t had much of an interest in the show. Apparently, it contains some foul language and references to sex (in a high school production! What is this world coming to?), but she has to pick her battles and her effort to get homecoming canceled has been time-consuming enough. Curiosity gets the better of her and she slips into the auditorium. She’s not sure what she expects to see, but it certainly isn’t Ruth standing center stage absolutely belting her heart out. Her voice is angelic and she puts so much passion and raw emotion into her performance. Beholding it is an almost religious experience. Grace would know.

The number draws to a close and Grace can’t help but applaud.

“Oh, no, my anxiety! Who’s there?” Ruth cries.

“Ruth, that was beautiful! If you’re that good, why aren’t you in the show? You should be the lead!”

“What, no! I’m way too nervous to do that! Plus it’s too late, rehearsals have already started and Trevor’s the lead.”

“Well, what if he wasn’t?” Grace says with a conspiratorial grin.

“But he is,” Ruth replies, not quite sure what she’s getting at.

“Have a little faith, Ruth! Things can change.”

Oh, no, she’s snapping again.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #grace chasity #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter #richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #hatchetfield #lautski #cw drug mention

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 years

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Guilty Pleasures (Part 2)

More secret/wholesome hobbies for my giant lovely robots!

Starscream

Starscream is a bundle of pent up everything with paranoia serving as the cherry on top, and so to deal with it he picked up several small wholesome hobbies over the course of the war.

He tried writing for a while, (he still has a stash of his old works somewhere) he did painting as well, (his art is still on display in his berthroom) and he even committed to sculpting for a while (his rather vivid depictions of Megatron in various states of defeat are proudly displayed on a shelf)

However his most recent hobby is one he acquired from earth.

Currently he handles his pent up emotions through knitting, something he picked up after he found out that a determined knitter can make just about anything.

Inspired, he took up the craft and uses his sharp talon like digits to knit while he has nothing better to do.

When he can, he will requisition a Vehicon or two to hold his yarn balls and follow him around so that he can pace and knit at the same time.

But due to how often Starscream needs to vent out his frustrations via knitting he developed quite a large pile of finished accessories.

And so to make way for even better works of 'art' Starscream gives his little creations away to others on board the nemesis, and sometimes those not of Decepticon allegiance.

Knockout has found himself with several well knit neon pink sweaters that he hates with a passion not only because the color clashes with his armor but also because they all have some iteration of 'Slagger' on the back.

Breakdown has been given a few rainbow colored beanies that he isn't quite sure what to do with, and Soundwave has acquired a handful of knitted stuffed animals with various angry expressions.

All the Vehicons have little mittens or scarfs of various colors and Shockwave has begrudgingly accepted an eye mask with a rather disturbing optic knitted on the front.

Not even the Autobots are safe from Starscream's passive aggressive knitted works.

Optimus has five quilts as large as he is tall depicting Starscream perched upon a throne with both Optimus and Megatron at his pedes, usually 'All Hail Starscream' is present somewhere as well.

And Ratchet has two dozen rugs that seem to be a series of sorts as each has 'Frag Megatron' kitted in a different language.

No one is quite sure how to react to it.

Arcee

Despite her sarcastic, stoic, and blunt behavior, Arcee has an incredibly wholesome hobby, the hobby in question being gardening.

What she did on Cybertron wasn't really gardening by earth standards.

Before the war and even during its early years she kept and incredibly well maintained crystal garden to which she devoted enormous amounts of time to.

She had a whole room filled with towering spires of glowing crystals which had been carefully directed to grow in splendid archways and branching designs over vorns.

Each crystal had a date carefully carved into its base and was skillfully attuned to her own spark signature, helping them to grow and offering her a deep sense of peace when in her garden.

It helped ease a great deal of the stress she accumulated throughout the early years leading up to the war.

However her garden was ruthlessly destroyed after her residence was bombed.

She tried keeping a few small potted crystals which she managed to salvage from her old garden but it was mostly a lost cause with how often she was required to change bases and locations to fight.

She still kept a few of the shards with her though when she travelled to earth, more as a sentimental item than anything else.

When she arrived to earth she was introduced to the human concept of gardening.

Organic things were not an unknown concept to her, but caring for plants is far different than caring for crystals.

She ultimately decided to give earth gardening a shot and has so far grown to be just as frustrated with the process as Ratchet is with human baking.

Why do plants need so much water? But then if they get the water they die? And they need sun, so much sun, but not too much sun or they also die? They also need to be pruned like crystals but they grow so quickly that it is nearly impossible to contain them?

Not only that but they just sometimes randomly die? For no reason?!?

Poor Arcee is trying and has succeeded to a degree. She, after devoting a great deal of time to research and through much trial and error has cultivated a small garden of succulents.

She prefers succulents above other plants because they are the most similar in requirements to crystals.

She has even given her most prized plants names. And it is these named plants that she loves above all others.

As such, the death of Jerry due to Bulkhead and Wheeljack's careless game of lob ball has earned them several well deserved smacks and more than one chilling glare when they get too close to her other plants.

R.I.P Jerry.

Breakdown

For such a big strong bot, Breakdown's hobby is remarkably tame.

When he isn't working or buffing Knockout's armor, Breakdown enjoys making candles, preferably scented ones.

It is not that he is particularly fond of fire or the messy substance that is wax, he just likes how lovely the flame, melting wax, and scent of the candle are when all combined together.

He only really started making candles after coming to earth and loving the dramatic effect candles gave to whatever place they were lit in.

He quickly got invested in the burning glow sticks and began making some killer candles of his own after a great deal of research.

Of course his early candle making days were not without their fare share of failures.

It took weeks to clean up the waxy mess that came from Breakdown's attempt to make one giant super candle.

Megatron was less than pleased.

But everyone else on the nemesis actually really appreciates Breakdown's hobby because it gives the nemesis a nice vibe.

The Vehicons really like the random candles spread around the ship and will take extra care to keep them lit and even take a long sniff if no officers are present.

The Vehicons love the candles so much that a group have come together and created a little club with Breakdown where they all just make candles together.

It's wholesome, sweet, and the end result is lovely.

The sections of the nemesis where few officers go are filled with candles of various shades and colors, usually scented in lavender as it is the Vehicons favorite.

Breakdown thinks it is the sweetest thing seeing the Vehicons so appreciative of his work.

Most of his gifted candles go to them, but a few end up with Knockout and Soundwave who use them to add a little spice to the atmosphere of their workspaces.

Bulkhead

Largely due to Miko's influence, Bulkhead has gotten himself a tin cap and become a conspiracy theorist after coming to earth.

Much like Optimus with his hobby, Bulkhead's fixation wasn't really intentional, he just found the theories on the internet infinitely fascinating.

After all, who would have thought that the moon landing might be fake? Sure there is a ton of evidence to disprove it but still!

And an organization controlling the entire world? Not completely impossible. The Autobots had a similar thing going on before the war too.

And what is this about a giant furry ape like creature wandering through the deep woods? Who knows? Bulkhead is an alien robot from space, anything is possible!

Bulkhead has a whole bulletin board that he keeps near the main part of base, completely unconcerned with what the others think of his fixation.

The thing is positively covered in clippings and photos all connected by obnoxious red string.

There are at least ten running theories on his board at all times, most of which the team tolerates but doesn't believe and Ratchet hates with a passion due to the ridiculousness of them.

However there have been moments where Bulkhead has managed to catch the entire teams attention with one of his more logical theories.

On multiple occasions the team, having been convinced by Bulkhead, have gone hunting for any and all data on a theory just to put their minds at ease.

Optimus once spent three restless nights franticly searching the internet and questioning agent Fowler to figure out if the Abominable Snowman was a real thing or not.

The poor Prime was left with his questions largely unanswered, much to his own discomfort and slight horror.

Wheeljack wasn't left much better off, having been roped into watching hours of conspiracy theory videos with Bulkhead on several occasions.

In the end he spent several days paranoid as Pit, refusing to remove his tin cap for fear of alien intrusion. (Why are you afraid of Aliens Wheeljack!? You are the Alien!)

Miko knows what monster she created by introducing Bulkhead to conspiracies and she is proud.

Shockwave

Shockwave doesn't really have a hobby.

All he does is research, which could arguably be a hobby if one were to look at it as such.

When he isn't working on his research the closest thing Shockwave does that could be considered a hobby is study the organisms of earth... for science purposes of course.

Does he need to know how much a blue whale weights? Probably not but you never know.

Does he really need to know the exact migrating habits of water buffalo? Also probably not.

Does he learn the random earth facts anyway? Absolutely.

He finds BBC documentaries fascinating and will watch them on loop for extended amounts of time while waiting for his experiments to show any changes.

He even has a dataslate where he takes notes on earth animal facts because it could perhaps be useful one day. (its definably not because he likes learning about animals, no, what gave you that idea?)

He usually keeps the fact that he knows all the random earth animal facts a secret but occasionally it slips out when someone starts giving out incorrect data about the earth organisms.

More than once Shockwave has unintentionally gone on a monotone rant about earth animals when someone like Starscream or Knockout starts throwing around data that is obviously wrong.

Little does he know they are mostly just being drama queens.

It still scares them a bit though when Shockwave goes into his little fact trances and more often than not those on the nemesis have learned to avoid talking about earth animals for fear of having to endure Shockwave's emotionless gaze as he corrects them in detail.

Smokescreen

Oh boy, Smokescreen has a rather interesting hobby.

Besides idolizing Optimus and geeking out over the fact that 'ohmygoodnessitsOptimusPrimeandI'mherewithhim!!!' Smokescreen has one other interest.

While he does play video games and race, his true passion lies in the rather niche subject of beetle fights.

He thinks watching the small creatures fight is just fascinating.

As such he collected a few of his own with the help of the children and has painstakingly created a whole mini arena for his beetles to fight in.

After a great deal of preparation the beetle matches begin in earnest.

The children place bets and Raf serves as the narrator for the matches, going above and beyond by creating intricate histories and stories for all the gladiator beetles.

Miko throws confetti when one of the beetles wins and Jack brings out a royal red pillow and high quality beetle food for the victor.

The whole thing is incredibly dramatic and often ends with the victorious beetle being paraded around like some sort of war hero.

No bot really understands Smokescreen's beetle fights, not even Bumblebee... that is until Wheeljack rolls round and sees the epic set up.

Smokescreen and Wheeljack immediately get along like a house on fire and ramp the beetle fights up to a new level of dramatic.

Together they devise and craft armor for the beetles and even genetically modify a few to make the battles even cooler.

They even devise traps for the battle field to add some tension to the conflict.

Of course spotlights and cameras are set up eventually and everything is recorded and documented in great detail.

Team Prime doesn't get it and Optimus is once again left slightly disturbed by the whole thing but opts to not question it.

Occasionally though the team will drop bets on particularly interesting combatants in the beetle arena, usually when there is nothing better to do.

On those days the battles are rigged so that Wheeljack and Smokescreen can revel in their ill gotten gains, throwing around the fake money that everyone bets with like they just won the lottery.

Aight I know this ain't everyone but I will create a third and final Guilty pleasures post to get the poor bots I missed in this post. Thank you for taking the time to look at my little headcannons.

#transformers shenanigans #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #bulkhead #wheeljack #smokescreen #breakdown #shockwave #arcee #starscream #funny #random headcanon #poor optimus #the poor prime is traumatized by earth but can't say anything

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sindri42 · 1 year

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I wanna talk about Liara T'soni for a minute.

I know a lot of people, myself included, have sometimes dismissed her over the years as a kind of boring fallback. She's kinda cute, a little annoying, always just sorta there over the course of the series. As a romantic option she's nowhere near as bad as Ashley or Kaiden or Miranda or Jacob, but not nearly as cool as Garrus or Tali or Jack (YMMV on Thane and Samara). Maybe worst of all, the game itself treats her as the "default" since she's always available, never driven away from Shepherd regardless of your choices, and the only squadmate guaranteed to survive all the way to the end.

But recently I've taken a step back, tried to look past the disconcerting bioware body language animations and her mid-tier writing and voice acting and, just looking at the simple facts presented, Liara is one of the most Characters of all time.

When you meet her, Liara is 106, and has spent the past fifty years in Prothean ruins. Asari aren't considered adults until age 100, so in human terms she's a 19-year old who has been devoting every waking moment to archeology since she was ten. During that time she's developed a lot of theories about the Protheans, which have been largely dismissed by the scientific community, leading to her primary motivation at the start of the series being to Show Them, Show Them All! with a particular focus on Those Fools from the University.

The thing is, they had a very good reason to dismiss her "findings" (on top of the whole 'wait a minute this paper was published by a twelve year old' thing): she has absolutely no evidence. If you press her for details in the first game, there's not a single thing she can point to that would support her theories, except for the fact that there's not as much evidence as you would expect for anything else. It's just a feeling she got as a kid and ran with... which happens to be 100% correct. The girl had never even heard of a Reaper before Shepherd told her about the vision, but she was able to predict their entire playbook from raw intuition and a few piles of rubble. That's the archeological equivalent of when Nicola Tesla built a remote control toy boat a decade before anybody else figured out what a radio signal was. That's right: She's a Mad Social Scientist.

Looking at her background some more, yeah she's Pureblood which is weird among modern Asari, but on top of that her parents are both Matriarchs. And Benezia never had any other child in 800-some years, then spent more than a century with Aethyta, then disappeared the moment she realized she was pregnant? Combine that with how Liara has more raw biotic power than most asari ten times her age, and she's almost definitely got the recessive Ardat-Yakshi genes on one side... and she's a quarter krogan on the other.

Circling back around to her relationship with Shepherd, her idea of an ideal pick-up line is "I want to study your brain". She definitely looks at you as an irreplaceable scientific specimen, and I'm not entirely convinced that she doesn't decide to have sex with you just to ensure she can maintain convenient access to the shiny new dig site inside your skull? She probably publishes a new paper on her findings after every time the two of you "embrace eternity".

And when she loses Shepherd, when everybody else is finding various ways to mourn and start to move on... Liara pulls together the Illusive Man and Aria Motherfucking T'loak into a conspiracy to put together a godsdamned resurrection, declaring war on the Collectors and the Shadow Broker in the process almost as an afterthought.

#mass effect #liara #t'soni

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psychewritesbs · 7 months

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I've seen a lot of people comment that Megumi and Sukuna are somewhat similar? Like there are parallels(?) starting with the on the nose one like the image of Megumi sitting on top of a pile of beat up bullies reminding them of Sukuna sitting atop a pile of bones. How Megumi exhibits a keen sight and observational skills when it comes to figuring out how other's techniques work, like Sukuna does. How they seem to have a methodical and meticulous approach when it comes to fights (although I'd say for different reasons). Then there's the thing with their domains. I've seen some people note that Megumi's domain seems to be forming a spine, just like how Sukuna's ID shows a vertebrae and that it's possible that Megumi might develop a 'divine' domain or something.

Though I think for the last point, after reading some theories regarding the TST, and how Lady Takiyasha, Taira no Masakodo's (theorized to be Mahoraga) daughter, might be the original TST user, it seems like the spine might become a full skeleton reminiscent of one of her two main shadow familiars (a frog and a skeleton). While Sukuna's innate domain seems to be more of a ribcage. But if we're gonna go back to the parallel of Sukuna and Megumi sitting on top of bodies/skulls, it could be that the spine might also just extend into a ribcage instead of an entire skeleton.

Oh man, I'm sorry I'm just blabbering now. But in any case, are these enough to really consider it a deliberate parallel/similarity?

HOLA!

Here it is! The compilation of 10 Shadows theories lol. Thanks for sharing all of these anon.

This is neat because recently I answered an ask about parallels between Geto and Megumi while being fully cognizant of your ask regarding Sukuna parallels to Megumi.

I am, unfortunately, not the right person to answer the question about the spine and ribcage as I feel like I lack context, more specifically in regard to some of the more complex theories.

I can, however, vouch for the panels of Megumi and Sukuna sitting on "thrones", the barrierless domain as a manifestation of their genius (I always felt like Megumi's domain lacking a barrier meant he was accidentally creating something similar to Sukuna without noticing), and their ability to strategize and play a long-term game.

I think for me the parallel I find most relevant between all three characters (specifically Megumi and Geto to Sukuna) is their propensity to give themselves over to their "baser humanity" for lack of a better word.

As of chapter 236 Sukuna has expressed he's deliberately turned away from love, and while Megumi and Geto didn't necessarily turn away from love per se, they were both willing to turn their back on their aspirational humanity.

Thanks for sharing these thoughts!

#ask the mental gymnastics anime girl

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themainspoon · 9 months

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I feel like my final evolution as a person is to become a weird ass academic. Like, I can just imagine myself sitting in some office with an antique mahogany desk covered in a whole bunch of unorganised papers, with books and reference materials piled in inconvenient places, and an old creeky bookshelf holding the older and more valuable tomes.

A laptop sits on top of top of the papers on the desk. A framed PDH certificate hangs on the wall at an angle, it’s slightly dusty. You walk in, I’m sitting with my feet up on my desk, eating something while staring at the laptop screen with headphones on. I’m dressed in casual clothes, and I look disheveled but in an endearing way. You are a student at this institution and you’ve made the decision to come to me for help directly instead of trying to work your way up through the official uni email chain of command.

After getting my attention you ask your question, and I am delighted. I say I have just the thing to help you and that I just need to grab it. I close my laptop and hand it to you, telling you to “hold this for a sec.” As soon as it’s in your hands I jump up onto my desk and start scanning through the books stacked on top of the bookshelf. The entire time I am talking at you about theories, differing perspectives, historical accounts, and recent developments, all in a very exited and rapid fire way. You wait for me to stop and take a breath, I simply don’t. I pinball around the office, grabbing texts from all corners of the room. Before returning to the other side of my desk and placing them down in front of you. Grabbing my laptop out of your arms as I ask for an email address so that I can send you a bunch of links to relevant journal articles. I describe what I just placed in-front of you as a “good place to start”.

You have another question for me, one that I could answer, but I feel that a colleague of mine would be able to answer in a more helpful manner. This colleague is one already know to you, mainly because of my history with them. We infamously almost got into a fistfight on stage while acting as panel guests at a major conference, we’ve spent the last year and a half arguing back and forth through peer-reviewed journal articles aimed at discrediting one another’s work, when we talk it almost always devolves into a heated screaming match.

We are best friends.

I hand you their contact details, and having received all the help you asked for, you thank me and leave. Walking outside my office you realise that you held your breath the whole time, overwhelmed by my chaotic enthusiasm.

That’s what I want to be like, that is my final form.

#a certified themainspoon classic

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steveinscarlet · 1 year

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I don't think I've ever seen this interview before? It's from a free paper called Soundcheck! in Nov 1983. Transcribed below because the layout is hard to read and the spelling is bad! Like misspelling both parts of Steve's name bad 🙄

Talk about keen. After a gruelling ten-month trek of the States, followed by a short tour of Europe which precedes a pre- Christmas mini-tour of Britain (sheesh, it's tiring enough just typing about it!), Def Leppard guitarists Phil Collen and Steve 'Steamin' Clark have filled their precious few days of rest in between by doing a whole pile of interviews.

This includes yours truly, SOUNDCHECK! staff reporter Pete Makowski. This year saw the massive US success of the group's third and greatest album Pyromania, which has established them as Superstars in America, where audiences scream and general hysteria is the norm at one of the group's stadium-size performances.

Phil Collen is the band's newest member and fits in comfortably with the Leppard sound. He also works very well with Clark. In fact, their musical tie has developed into a solid bond of friendship and they seem to spend all their working hours together.

Both firmly believe in maintaining the axe image and hopefully after the release of their next album will show audiences all over the world that solos do not have to be long, boring and monotonous. They have an idea they feel will revolutionise the concept of guitar playing.

As expected, they were tight-lipped about this new baby but otherwise proved very open and entertaining as a team in the interview that follows......

PM: The tour has been promoted partly by Why Bother Ltd, which is your company (one of them, that is). Has that moniker got anything to do with your feelings about touring this country?

PC: Yes. 'Cause when we tour over here, we always lose money.

SC: Yeah, the title of the company speaks for itself.

PC: If you're touring somewhere, and you're losing money, why bother doing it?

PM: Will you ever concentrate your energies on crackin' it over here?

SC: We obviously are! We wouldn't be doing a tour here after 10 months of playing America, would we? It's still a bit steep though, because now it's not Phonogram anymore who are backing us for these ventures; we're actually forking out our own money, as we've cleared our debt with Phonogram.

PM: What could you credit for the mammoth success of the last US tour?

SC: Lots of different things, you know we don't look like we're one of the Metallica bands. In fact, we made a conscious effort of not trying to look like that. We just tried to look normal and it seemed to work. Mums ain't scared to send their kids to our shows, where they'd probably have second thoughts about an Iron Maiden tour or Judas Priest, something like that, thinking their daughters would get raped or something.

PM: Why do you think groups like Quiet Riot have recently enjoyed mega mammoth success?

SC: Because we opened it up a bit; I don’t think it's just because of that. We've definitely opened the gate for other rock bands and they all seem to be doing quite well again. You know how it goes.

PM: Do you still enjoy touring the States?

SC: Yeah, when we come back and toured Europe, mainly because of the weather. Everyone immediately got 'flu. America was good and we had a good summer on our side. The tour got bigger and bigger, we started off thinking 'are we big enough to headline?' We have a top ten album and we were supporting Billy Squier. Then we got bigger and bigger and half-way through the tour we had to play two nights in some places; the further we went on the bigger the band became.

PM: Did you make a conscious effort to pace yourself on this, because I recall the last two times you played there everyone got worn out halfway through?

PC: We done alright. Actually, I was surprised.

SC: The big difference was that we headlined everywhere. This was the first time we'd headlined everywhere.

PM: Has it made that much difference? On your previous marathon treks it seems it really took its toll, physically speaking?

SC: It's probably because you weren't there (laughs). Keep Makowski out the way and you'll be alright!

PC: I remember our manager, Peter Mensch, saying: 'I realise Phil that this is your first American tour but Makowski won't be here so you'll be alright'.

PM: Was Pete Willis (Leppard's former guitarist) missed? I mean, what difference has his absence made to the group?

PC: Well it's the difference between half a million and six million.

SC: Pete had more of a cult following.

PC: I got some iffy fan mail, didn't I. Things like, 'you should be dead'. I got some fierce ones.

SC: When people saw the videos it helped to advertise the fact that Pete had gone and now Phil is with us. So kids, when they think of Def Leppard now, they think of Phil Collen as being an established part of the band.

PM: Your last album Pyromania was a mega mammoth success; have you started thinking about having to follow this up?

PC: We haven't really thought about it. We've got some ideas. A lot of bands do that, they think right: 'the last album was successful, this is what we should do to follow’. We haven't done that.

I mean, we may even do a keyboard album, as an example. I very much doubt that that's gonna happen. It's all down to how we feel at the time, really.

PM: How have things worked out between you two, because after America you should know each other pretty well by now and ironed out any problems that needed to be dealt with.

SC:I think we were worried about things at first, but I think that Phil's better and all the numbers sound much better than they ever could have with Pete. We're best mates now.

PM: That was quite a crucial change in personnel for the band.

SC: Yeah, and we were worried regarding how it would work out, because you don't really know what you need until you experience the change. When you've worked with someone for three years, initially things will be a bit strange; but as it's happened, things have worked out better than we'd ever expected.

PM: Is it still necessary to keep touring the States?

PC: I just think it's important to play where people appreciate you; you know for a fact that you lose money in England and you have to draw the line somewhere. As it happens, we made a bit of money in the States and it becomes very apparent that in other places we lose money when we go on the road. Hand over fist you have to fork out cash from your own wages.

PM: You've been getting a lot of teenybop- type fan hysteria in the States. How do you feel about that?

PC: It's great fun. Just take it with a pinch of salt. When it first started happening we just looked at each other and burst into hysterics thinking 'are you sure?'. It is a bit weird and we didn't accept it as the norm. We just thought this is a fluke, take it with a pinch of salt; it just kept on getting worse or better, whichever way you look at it.

What helps though is the attitude of the band. There's no ego problems here, which is what always screws other groups up. People start getting really weird. We're in a good position in as much as we're a younger and newer band and you can see all that crap going on while bands like AC/DC are getting on.

SC: When we're their age we'll have seen all the bad sides and have experienced all the problems when we were a lot younger. So it's taught us a lesson. So when we're their age we'll know what to do and what not to do.

PM: You do have a very strong band image.

PC: Yeah, it's not run by one person. The only way that you're gonna make good is if you all stick together and you all pull together.

PM: Have any of you got individual aspirations?

PC: Only within the band really me and him. Personally, there's some guitar things that we wanna do, but we can do them within the band. It works out great.

PM: Will the next album take as long to put together as Pyromania, which was 14 months in the making?

PC: It may do.

SC: We're not jumping on the Pyromania bandwagon: ‘oh, we want a hit album, let's bung out another one quick'. We're not going for a formula and trying to make forthcoming products sound like Pyromania because after a couple of albums we'd be finished. We're gonna take our time, do another album, which will retain our quality, and if it doesn't sell as well then tough shit! At least we'd know that what we did we wanted. But we're confident that it will do well anyway.

PC: Pyromania will be a hard one to follow up, but we ain't even thinking about that at the moment. We've got our own ideas and we're just going to do them. If no one likes them then bollocks!

PM: How about recording a live album?

SC: We have no plans for a live album.

PC: That usually comes at the end of a band's career or record contract; when they peak. Live albums are basically bullshit time. We haven't really got enough material to do one.

PM: You seem to separate yourself from the whole Heavy Metal bandwagon. Is that a conscious move?

PC: Well, it doesn't really bother us if we're associated with it. I don't really think that we're like the rest of them. We don't wear all that stupid regalia; we don't get all the studs and leather on, 'cause that's really false isn't it? I mean, could you seriously look me in the face if we was to like stick all the gear on?

SC: We've never tried to dress like that and it used to worry us. But we don't care anymore.

PC: The way we look at things is that we fill a great big gaping gap between bands like Journey and Foreigner and bands like AC/DC and Iron Maiden; we're right in the middle.

SC: We're almost like a Zeppelin or Queen -right in the middle! Well, that's what the press in America compare us to. We never said anything. We'd like people to take us for what we are...

And the beat goes on.

#def leppard #interview #steve clark #phil collen

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arethereanyoriginalusernames · 1 year

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Let’s talk Next Gen P2

The teens

Note: I realized that I haven’t properly introduced all these characters as they are in the current timeline. Whoops. Anyways Top to Bottom, left to right. Also feel free to let me know what you think

———

Foxglove

Age: 15-17 (physically resembles 8 year old bc of the shit she went through severely stunting her physical development)

Gender: Female

Species: Doll (Formerly), Possibly Human (Formerly), Uncertain (Current)

Parents: Currently under the care of Locket and Nymph

Let’s start with the only newbie here.

In the future timeline, the kingdom of Dawnsview is recovering from the effects of the corrupt government that had been reigning over it for so long. One of the main efforts is the rehabilitation of Dolls- citizens who had been kidnapped, brainwashed, and experimented on to create obedient servants for the upper class.

And thus brings us to Foxglove, a failed Doll left to die in a pile of garbage behind an old factory. She’s been the main focus of those in charge of rehabilitation as she is the most ambitious effort yet. Foxglove was fully expected to perish from the damage done to her body, but with experimental mechanical aids, she’s slowly being reintegrated into society. Foxglove has the following: a device to aid her breathing, a mechanical arm, mechanical leg, and she’s awaiting a mechanical eye implant.

Foxglove has no memory of her life prior to becoming a doll, and appearing to have no biological family, she was placed in the care of Nymph and Locket. Curiously, she’s begun to take on physical attributes of both, a phenomenon still being studied.

Between having to attend several appointments and constantly receiving judgemental stares from strangers, Foxglove is somewhat antisocial and has a tendency to hide under boxes, both for comfort and to get around unnoticed. She follows Johnathan around a lot as he’s basically her only friend, and she enjoys trying and doing new things… as long as her condition doesn’t get in the way. Due to the brainwashing dolls are put through, Foxglove still feels complied to follow any instructions given to her and it can be physically painful to resist. In her free time, she enjoys sketching and doodling.

The kids believe that Foxglove is a secret agent, and she uses this belief as a way to explain her multiple absences caused by her appointments.

——

Johnathan Ratts

Age: 16-18

Gender: Male

Species: Rat shifter

Family: Kingsley (adoptive older brother), Locket (adoptive older sister), Blanche Clyde (adoptive mum), Clara Dawnsview (niece)

Johnathan is just as much of a scamp as his younger self. He still finds any way to insert Bitch into every sentence, and still amuses/concerns others with his familiarity of the world around him being fucked up. He’s jovial and wise-cracking when it comes to his own business, but tends to have a deadpan reaction to the folly of others. His attitude and impulsivity often gets him in trouble, and even his friends acknowledge that he can be kind of a dick. While he can be unpleasant to strangers, Johnathan cares deeply for those close to him, and can be protective to a fault. Overall rough around the edges, but has a heart of gold. He’s close friends with Jophiel, who he calls “Dove”.

Unfortunately, Johnathan has a habit of trying to help those he cares about to the point he’ll ignore his own well being. He’s extremely self conscious, and worries frequently about how valuable his friends consider him to be. He is most self conscious of two things in particular. One is how boney he is as a consequence of the environment he grew up in (if one more person calls him a corpse he might stab something). The other is the heart disease he was diagnosed with fairly recently. He has a device implanted over his heart to help regulate blood flow (it’s specifically an issue with one of the blood valves), and it can be resolved for good… as soon as an opportunity comes along for him to receive surgery, although that’s not happening anytime soon.

Johnathan fears helplessness more than anything, and can become incredibly emotional and impulsive if he feels like he can’t do anything. And if that all wasn’t enough… there appears to be a strange voice in his head… calling to him.. wanting him to do… something…

——

Jophiel The Angel of Love

Age: 15-17

Gender: Female

Species: Angel

Family: Dolce (adoptive parent), Clairisse (adoptive aunt)

Who knew the angel of love could be so angsty? Jophiel is the angel of love, capable of reading the feelings people have for each other. She’s a bookworm with a love for a good romance, and will go off on tangents and rants whenever she finds a show or book with shitty relationship depictions. She puts on a front that can often come off as snobby or bratty, but her friends know all to well her hard front is miles away from who she really is. Jophiel in reality is a sweetheart who does her best to mediate conflict. She’s “embarrassingly cowardly” and scares easily. She tries to shield this soft center with a hard outer shell, which unfortunately can crumble with too much pressure.

She lives in Dolce’s bakery and has a loving relationship with them. Jophiel is distrusting of her aunt (who Dolce is in frequent conflict with) and holds a bitter grudge towards her grandmother. In spite of her dislike of Clairisse, Jophiel is frequently tasked with babysitting Soli (Clairisse’s daughter). She often gets frustrated with Soli, but tries not to snap at her, as she’s fully aware of the mistreatment Soli is already receiving from their grandmother.

————

Scylla

Age: 15-17

Gender: Female

Species: Gorgon

Family: Trix, Missi (adoptive parents), Jelly (sibling)

It’s not a leap to consider Scylla the most level headed and logical of the teens. With a head full of knowledge gained from travelling and unending curiosity, Scylla enjoys exploring and going on adventures. She has a knack for cooking, and enjoys sharing recipes from around the world. Able to swim fast enough to keep up with some Orcas, Scylla can disappear into the ocean for days, and return with an entire catalog of stories.

Scylla is often the one looking after the more irresponsible characters (namely Lithie), and reigning them in during their wilder moments. It’s not hard to say that characters like Lithie would be lost without her. Unfortunately, this could become a reality due to something out of Scylla’s control- time and age. As Scylla grows older, her ability to paralyze those she locks eyes with grows stronger. At the moment, she could possibly kill a child. Many adult Gorgons will blindfold themselves to prevent this, but… that may not be enough to prevent anything from happening.

———-

Lithith the Flower Demon

Age: 15-17

Gender: Female

Species: Demon

Family; Arryn (sister)

What’s chaos if not a little fun? Tired of being the coddled and protected little rosebud, Lithie is determined to grow strong enough to be the one protecting others. Of course, this plan involves going out of her way to fight every single thing possible, armed with a flute and the power to summon flowers. There’s also her trusted rabbit Beelzebunny the devourer of gods, a rabbit with unspecified evil power. Lithie travels the world with her friend and crush Scylla. Lithie is also infamous for her cursed diet of meals including mustard and pancakes, and pickles in pad Thai.

Lithie isn’t stupid, far from it. But she’s undeniably an airhead with her head in the clouds. She tends to live in her head as coping method to deal with stress (and trauma), and seems to always be in a positive upbeat mood that can be irritating. This also makes the times she does break down somewhat jarring, when she ends up crying on a bathroom floor and eating three tubs of ice cream.

Despite her lack of responsibility, she’s often put in charge of babysitting, which might be why most babysitting gigs end with the house burned down.

——-

Tipua aka Prickly

Age: 13-15

Gender: neither technically, she’s a plant basically. But she identifies as female

Species: Plant creature? Creature made of plants? She is a plant? Something like that

Family: None

Still in hiding from her mad creator, Prickly resides in her forest, alone with little contact to the outside world. With only an old phone someone threw away to call others, Prickly can only roam alone, tending to the flora. Her childhood wonder has died away, leaving only sadness and little expectation for what could come next. She often frightens the kids, making them avoid walking alone in the forest. With Lithie as her only friend, Prickly can only wait for the improbable day something might finally happen.

Those who are lost in the woods tell tales of being led back to safety by a being as lovely as the flowers on the ground, as sweet as the berries in the bushes, her voice like the whistling through the trees. If you are ever to lose your way, look for Prickly.

————-

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!

Art and characters made by me

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theloveinc · 2 years

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Catie! Do you have any self-ships? You write about a lot of different characters with us/for us, but who's your ~fave~? (Could also just be a fave, not a self-ship) Is there anyone that you wish you could talk about more with us/in general?

🐞

jfjskdhfjads ladybug PLEASE, you are so berry kind for asking❤️👉🏻👈🏻❤️

i have many self-ships, actually!! tho i'm a bit confused by what constitutes one because... i basically ship myself with everyone LOL. and i know some people have very developed backstories for their selfship worlds... i wouldn't say i have one specific "canon" for each character + i's setup... but rather i pick whatever scenario i'm enjoying at the moment and then apply it to them and do that as needed. probs cuz it changes so often and always has.

Most of the time this past year it's been bakugo (what a surprise), so i would say he's def my top self ship??? but honestly whenever i'm thinking of anything for any character, whether it's suggested by u guys or not, i'm absolutely brainrotting for them, too. i mentioned this ages ago on IHB, but for the longest time i actually liked everyone in mha pretty equally, so i lowkey still do

(its fine bc im so busy rn, but sometimes im sad that we don't have more convos about other characters)

anyway, it's kind of an inside joke with myself LOL but i always joke it's like rick + morty in my mind bc i always think of my selfships as alternate universes that are all happening at the same time... so if i'm thinking about one au of assassin bakugo and another about having kids w/ him............ they're both equally valid. or like, if im thinking about being married to kiri, that's a different caitie than the caitie married to bakugo LMAO but still me🙆🏼‍♀️

(does that even make sense?)

honestly... not so much recently bc i've really been going thru it w/ my writing, but i feel like i do a good job of talking to u guys about all the stuff i wanna! i've honestly been self inserting so long that turning my ideas into inserts is actually very easy for me, plus, since i LOVE and enjoy writing second person, i don't have any issues with stuff being relatable to me personally. it just always is (for the most part).

besides, tho there's definitely a couple things i wish i could bring up, like plans i have for longer things im too scared to start (which are absolutely author-inserts), they're so deeply personal that i really can't even figure out how to make them appealing LOL. so for now i just don't. but that doesn't bother me much tbh, cuz i get my fill as is!

(plus, sometimes they’re just dumb ideas)

anyway, long story short... bakugo is my current, MAIN selfship. it was levi from attack on titan for like, 7 years tho. and i'm sure i'll find someone else berry special to add to the pile too!!! and normally i imagine us meeting because... we're both fucking weirdos who hate everyone LOL and bond over that.

but thank u SO much for asking, i hope i answered this right!! and more importantly, wbu??? i'd love to hear <3 (and hope you're feeling better🥺)

#LOL I STILL HAVE TONS TO SAY WAHH but mostly just supporting details #and now i cant think of anything #having allergic reaction in my eyeball too #but yeah. i dont mention it much bc i just phrase everything in second pov cuz its my favorite #but im always selfshipping with bakugo <333 #anything that says you im thinking of ME!!#hence why i always write it cuz i think u should too!!! or your fave oc #but its my favorite to read so why would i write anything else #anyway uhhhhhhh #OH ABT BAKUGO i was gonna say. he used to just be on par with kiri deku and todoroki and everyone for me #but something changed and he definitely suits all my current needs in a man #and im not willing to debate abt it #u know bc like i mentioned... ppl have really been talking abt it lately #and im not like. giving up my ideas abt him LOOOOL #anyway thats vague but i typed it all out so whatever #and to change the subject one more time #i wanna do more with people selfships too #like the other day i was thinking abt making headcanons for people's f/o relationships #but i havent figured out a good way yet that would really allow for my own creativity in the situation #but its on the mind hence why i wanna hear from u abt urs too #and i love u for asking me this #all my love and hugs <33 #caitie answers #anon #selfship tw #🐞

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aixmedia · 9 days

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My two cents on SD3 and why I don't think it's any better than the last heaps of garbage SDAI hyped up and we all had to finetune the nerfed garbage out of to the point we're stuck with incoherent nightmares: https://civitai.com/articles/5019

For those of you who are Artists who aren't FOR AI: I urge you now more than ever, not to whine at the people finetuning unless your actual content is being used and then that's ok -- but go see why your jobs are only at stake because of stupid corporations.

"PROMPT ENGINEERING" isn't going to save SDAI out of a model that isn't anything better, worse or even any more comptent than anything out there on the market. SD3 and Stable Cascade have clear devolving issues in control, and quality as well as coherence.

The problem with evolution in AI is they're training things that corporations demand, they're not developing better anatomy, they're not developing better coherence.

Not only that is the constant warning that these models are always "younger focused as to not do NSFW" which then leads to nerfed CSAM and CP that leaks out into media outlets and making things a dystopian future where Joebloggs goes to jail and gets off scot free on a whim saying "ITS ALL ARTISTIC" (I hear this a lot in AI circles: they all think if they. tell the cops it's artistic, then it's legal? I mean, let's be real that's not true at all.)

As an AI gen researcher of sorts, right now with my design and artistic background my fear isn't the loss of work because of styles and artists being trained on: It's the corporate drab souless and incoherent "STOCK" crap we're being spoon fed.

SDAI doesn't want the personal customers to come in, they're charing for the time being via their developer portal at least 10 bucks to top your account up. Then it's so many credits/ otherwise per dollar to generate images.

When I started doing things with AI - I saw a lot of positives. I saw avenues people could use AI for, things that could turn the industry around. No, sadly now those are being shuffled aside because corporations want in on the pile.

Big business wants a play, and most of them don't even understand how these things work.

Example (names have been changed for privacy):

Company A owner expresses a want to create a print on demand business with generative AI. Has admitted to never using generative AI in any format or another before apart from midjourney or Dalle2 back in the day.

Company A sees several users on a popular open source repository for AI content and contacts privately one or more members to source for their position.

GIF to show basically how the whole advertisment sounded:

Mix that with:

And then you have the current state of the new "AI BROS" economy fresh off the tracks of failed NFT.

Keep in mind as a disclaimer that the above situation was merely hearsay - and there is no legal basis to who, what where and why.

This isn't to say that AI is dying: This is just to say that AI in it's current format will likely split into a niche market of corporate design use, and those that use it for concept work outside of that... as well as the consistent bot niche market to make PonyXL porn on every g-d model that they can because "YOU CANT TELL ME WHAT TO DO".

(This isnt' against the creator of Pony Diffusion XL, nor any other model creator, this is my take based on how many models i'd been creating recently with an uptake of XXX disney princess loras being used with my models on pictures and the mods not being able to do anything about it because they all look over 21.)

I feel bad for artists right now that are CURIOUS about AI, but don't want to get into it because its' just not worth it. You're fighting know it alls on one side, and you're fighting the others that just demand to monetize every second of their life on the other.

So my stance on AI stands: I'm middle ground, I do what I do because I enjoy it - but I try and infuse an "eat the rich feed the poor" mentality. SD3 and SD Cascade and OpenAi's new models are not really helping that a long much.

Also wtf - this was me asking for a PHOTOGRAPH and when i asked for realism it got worse LOL.

There may be a chance soon that Aixmedia won't post a ton because it's hard to keep up with our dayjob as a model creator AND try and focus on feeding fresh content because Tumblr isn't a great place to discuss that stuff, and we don't want to feed you incorrect content.

We do feel that AI has it's place. But we also feel that natural art, digital art -- deserve to exist in a higher space. And yes to those of you who hate AI: We purposly used these tags to get you to go ahead and spread how you feel about SD3 based on the images at hand. Just note that this blog isnt' legally responsible, and we're not here to trigger nor doxx anyone.

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dorian-gray · 1 year

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[ you don't have to answer this, it's not in character I guess, but I'm glad I helped you, you've helped me as well, it's a little pathetic of me I guess to use a ridiculous and annoying character I made up to speak about my own struggles. I think you put alot of your soul in Dorian, it's a level of sincerity I can only aspire to reach with my work to be honest, I really enjoy your writing as well. I'm not strong, I don't know what you've went through and I don't want to pick open old wounds but it was obviously alot more serious that what's going on with me. All this to say you're much stronger and braver than I ever will be, I hope you heal from whatever it is that troubles you. It's a little weird talking to you like a normal person lol, I avoid liking your posts so you don't figure out who I am so it's odd of me to be doing this

Apologies for talking for so long I wish you the best you wonderful person, your blog provides me so much joy and fun and you are a joy to talk to, thank you from the bottom of my heart]

[OOC - I don’t mind talking about what happened. I love bitching about them. It’s a way to take back power, I suppose…It’s really not as bad as you’d think from the way it traumatized me. But I was young, so it stuck.

Trigger warning for description of past emotional abuse.

7th-early 9th grade I dated someone I’ll call X for the sake of this post. (X used he/him while I was dating them but more recent sources have told me that they use she/her, however I’m not in contact with them and don’t actually know what they use right now, so I’m going to use they/them.)

I started dating X in the midst of a horrible depressive state. X was the first and only time I developed a special interest on a real person I knew. To put it simply, they were a dick. They took joy in putting other people down and liked to make the shittiest jokes you’ve ever heard (most of them stolen from tumblr screenshots). Amongst other things, they made fun of all of my special interests, made me feel stupid if I didn’t agree with them on everything, ignored my boundaries, and used me as a therapist.

As an undiagnosed autistic kid with severe anxiety and depression issues, I was very very malleable. I mirrored their personality. I mirrored their sense of humor. I mirrored their beliefs. Quoting my own poetry here, but when I was with them I wasn’t me. I was a shadow of them.

I’ll admit I wasn’t perfect either, but it was my first relationship (≈12-14 years old) and once I realized I was being…silly (realized at like 13), I stopped. X continued their behavior well into high school. After we broke up, X dated and did all they did to me and more to my best friend. That is what I really hate them for.

There’s more that piled on top of all this- with other people’s reactions to them. But I won’t get into that now.

I’m 19 now. I’m about to finish my first year of college. And sometimes it still hurts, but I’m doing much much better than I was.

Trigger Warning End

All that being said, it doesn’t matter what I went through. It doesn’t matter if it was easier or harder than what you went through. It still hurt you, and that is all that matters. You are strong for what you went through no matter what it was.

Comparing trauma does nothing, dear. Not to sound like a shitty high school guidance counselor or a 2016 tumblr post, but someone who drowns in 1ft of water as opposed to 10ft is just as dead.

I’m happy if my silly little role play account has helped you. I know you don’t actually know me, but I’m here if you ever need anything. (And I love your little blondie character btw)

Lots of Love,

Kaz <3]

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pbmajumder · 1 year

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