people foolishly dismiss desserts and treats as having no nutritional value when they actually are necessary for refilling your sanity stat. to prove my point please observe the emotional stability of the next person you meet who doesnt let themselves ever eat any form of dessert
Feels like a good time to plug Lingonaut. It's 100% AI and ad free and the courses are developed by volunteers. It's in open-beta, so still a bit buggy, but it has the feel of Duo Lingo without the slop.
Starlight Express Fic (AO3 Crossover) - Components x Electra
Fandom: Starlight Express (2025 London)
Type: Hurt/comfort
Rating: SFW
Triggers: Gender dysphoria
~~~~
There was something to be said about how engines had flocked to steam after only one victory on the track. But that didn't mean Electra wasn't going to get ahead while they still had the chance to. There was nothing more appealing than winning to Electra, and they couldn't lose twice in a row, as that would mean that they were perhaps actually not the best, and of course that wasn't true at all.
Electra was the best of all engines and would go through great lengths to prove this completely. They were going to be the most modern, the most upgraded and the most wanted engine in the yard, even if it meant ripping out their brand new electric engine in favour of rebuilding a better hydrogen-based one. That was what the future demanded, and Electra was not going to be outdated or forced into uselessness by people upgrading faster.
Electra would never be useless; they just couldn't be. It was not going to be the case, or Electra would… well, they didn't know what would happen because such things would never happen in the first place.
It was going to be a rather complicated and involved process, all things considered. Wrench had to start work on how this would be done mechanically, creating a good timeline to start fuel changes, installing pipes and trying to accommodate the lack of space in Electra's sleek design. The electric engine was built for smooth speed, not for hydrogen pipes and thick protective walling to stop explosions or overheating. There was going to be a lot that needed changing, and it had Wrench worried if it would be too much at once.
Of course, Electra would be able to handle anything, but when everything was going to be happening in the same week, the mind wouldn't be able to keep up with the changes to the body as quickly. It was a dangerous thing, and if they weren't careful it might create a disconnect between the mind and body of the engine, and who knows what that might lead to down the line.
Volta and Joule had been working overtime these past few nights, making sure that Electra could get used to the sudden temperature changes that a hydrogen-based engine could produce. They had a random schedule each day when they would have to approach Electra and take them in for the temperature treatment. Sometimes this would involve Joule lighting explosives inside of Electra's compartments to try and get them used to the pressure and the pain that could be caused by the transition to steam.
The conversion was getting on everyone's nerves, and of course all the components would have to update their couplers and connections in case a power transfer is needed during races or journeys from place to place. It was just a lot of different things all happening at once, and they had to believe it would be worth it.
After another month, it was done. Electra was officially hydrogen-based. They were steam. The whole thing was revolutionary and something that was making headlines now that they had let the press know what had happened. Electra was out for interviews and newspapers and all kinds of things; everyone wanted to know about the new fancy engine that was going to make everyone seem second-rate.
Especially after Greaseball had given up on the whole thing. Electra thought it was so pathetic to try halfway for only a couple of months and then give up; it was laughable, and Electra made that known. Much to the upset of Dinah – not that Electra ever cared about that silly little dining car. Greaseball didn't matter now that Electra was going to be the next champion, and even Rusty didn't stand a chance with this new and renovated form. It was completely perfect.
Then why did Electra feel strange about it all? This was what they wanted, and the new engine was running perfectly, but it was strange. They couldn't seem to get rid of the urge to sit in a charging station. The desire to just power down when that was no longer an option. And of course there was no more electric hypnosis, which was certainly something they weren't getting used to all that quickly.
But then again, it wasn't like they were unhappy with their body; it was just rather different, and it was going to take a moment for the software to update to the same level as the hardware. "Everything alright, boss?" Killerwatt asked, snapping Electra back to some state of reality. They were sitting in their office chairs and gave a small nod in Killerwatt's direction. "Are you sure? I know this whole hydrogen thing has been a lot at once." He said, trying to peel back that layer of professionalism that Electra insisted they had at all times. He actually cared about them after all, as stupid as it was.
"That's all. You're dismissed for the evening." Electra said firmly, not even giving Killerwatt another glance. Killerwatt went to protest, but Electra raised their hand. That was it. Killerwatt bowed his head and then left the room, the door closing automatically behind him.
Now alone, Electra was just staring at the wall, not certain what to do but knowing there was a lot going on inside their mind. There was so much they could say or do, but there were also so many things they didn't want to do right now. Sitting here in silence seemed like the best option over all of them. But even then Electra didn't really think they were the same engine sitting here as they were a few months ago. Well, they weren't; the old electric engine was gone now, and the new hydrogen engine was in.
But in a deeper sense, how could Electra be the same engine as they were a few months ago? With all the things that had happened with Greaseball and Rusty and all those in the yard, their components going off to race with others, helping and hindering them in the races.
There was a lot that had changed in such a short span of time; it was no wonder things felt different: they were different. And the yard was different too. It was a lot of change, and Electra hadn't really been able to assess it all or enjoy the new engine, even if it came with a lot of faults and differences compared to the original electric one. And yet, there was something comforting about this new engine.
It didn't feel out of place, but they hadn't had it long enough to feel at home just yet. It was like a new pet in the home. It belongs there, yes, but it hadn't had the time to settle in yet. Yes, perhaps that was the best way Electra could think of it. After all, that was how it felt truthfully.
Electra had never been one to care about such things as the internals, so long as the external appearance was one of power, sleek modernism and wealth. That was what this new hydrogen engine screamed, and it was a good fit for Electra in theory.
Time would tell if in practice all the care that they had put into getting this engine would pay off. If they would truly get to be the one and only engine of the future. Electra stood up, looking down at their body and placing a hand against their smooth chest. It felt right. Even if in some moments they would still doubt if this was a safe bet to have made. If this was really the best thing to do for the long run.
After a full conversation, it would be very difficult to go back, but Electra had faith they would truly be able to be a better engine after this. This was something they needed, even with the doubt sometimes creeping in. The soft yearning for the better race was going to overwhelm such doubts any day of the year.
Making their way back to their private room, Electra noticed the way their engine was humming. Not in that consistent drone of the electric engine that they had known and loved for so long, but instead the humming was a gentle rock with each push of their wheels against the tracks.
Pumping liquid back and forth in a steady flow that gave a soft reassurance to Electra once more. It was different, and of course, they missed the steady, familiar sound of electric but there was more to be gained from being hydrogen. It was a better noise and a better flow, and it was going to let Electra be a better engine. And perhaps it might even let other things become better within them as well.
~~~~
Gif from: @greasepearls from this post
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I love that Leverage really goes out of it’s way to show us that just because you break the ‘rules’, it doesn’t mean you’re breaking the rules. Rules and laws and society are all made up, at the end of the day, and all you really have is your own moral compass and sense of justice; is this just to you? Is it right? Should it be OK for companies to put people in insurmountable debt for the rest of their lives just because our medical care is so expensive in this modern day and age? No law or rule should change what you know in your heart is right and wrong, and I think that’s the key thing that makes someone a good person in my eyes.
#there was a time when parker wouldn’t have noticed, #not because she lacked the capacity to care, #but because she had narrowed herself, #to stay alive she cut off as many unnecessary things as possible, #watching her get them all back, #is one of the glories of this show (via @seananmcguire)
This scene hit me like a brick. My parents were hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt when I was 16 bc I’d had cancer the year before (my treatment ended up being free but the initial ER bills and such were not).
But somewhere along the line they just… Disappeared. My mom says they’re not being paid and they’re not in collections. It’s almost as if someone out there did…exactly what Parker did.
Ever since I saw this the first time, I’ve imagined it was Parker doing it. That she and Hardison had a free weekend and decided to take it out on a collections agency. That I was one of the lucky ones who got a little Leverage.
Okay but like yeah, that is actually a thing that happens, albeit not exactly like this. I don’t remember the exact process but basically there’s a booming industry to sell peoples debt - the business you owe money to sells it to someone else for a fraction of the money owed, wipes their hands of the whole affair, and now whoever bought your debt is riding your ass to get you to give the money to the. But it’s also entirely possible for people to just… buy up massive amounts of debt for pennies on the dollar, and then just. Forgive it. Because capitalism is a living nightmare, but the system is broken enough that it’s possible to exploit it for good sometimes.
Like, the main reason I know about this is because John Oliver did a piece on debt buying a few years ago, and ended it by revealing that he’d bought 15 million dollars worth of medical debt just so he could forgive all of it. Both to expose how broken the system was because some random fucker like him could buy millions of dollars in peoples debt with zero regulations, and also just to take the record for biggest TV giveaway in history.
yes! if you want to help with the medical debt crisis in the US and have some extra money please donate to RIP Medical Debt if you can. They’re completely legit and really do what they say - you really CAN relieve an incredible amount of debt for the needy with even a small donation. I’m a monthly donor and receive a quarterly report of the debt they’ve abolished, and it truly is amazing. Based on those reports the average amount of debt abolished per person is actually I would say about $600 - which means, if you’re doing the math, that with a $6 donation to RIP Medical Debt, you can potentially pull one person out of a poverty spiral - maybe even one family. For six dollars. that’s a pretty good deal, I think.
I don't object in principle to putting a scary monster in your Backrooms-type media, but I feel strongly that you've entirely missed the point of the genre if at any point you actually show us the monster.
Starlight Express Fic (AO3 Crossover) - Dinah x Greaseball
Fandom: Starlight Express (2025 London)
Type: Hurt/comfort
Rating: SFW
Triggers: Gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, de-transition
~~~~
This whole getting converted to steam was something that Greaseball had really wanted to do when she realised it would make her faster. But then when she started to settle with her new hydrogen-based engine, something didn't feel right, and she didn't know what. The whole operation had gone very well, and things seemed fine with her pipes and the efficiency of her new engine, but it all still felt a little wrong. Greaseball just kept telling herself it was getting used to the new engine and how it worked. And there was a lot to get used to in that way.
She had to get used to the new fuelling system, with the new way to hook up to the system and the new way to open her valves and make sure that the pressure for the water wasn't too high or too low lest she get dizzy or have a headache. There was also the matter of making sure that she kept a stable temperature, which was much more complicated than temperature control with a diesel engine.
Meaning sleeping was very difficult, as she needed extra blankets and fans on depending on the weather. And of course that made it harder to cuddle Dinah in bed.
Dinah. That was a whole other thing that she had to worry about. Dinah had to deal with all of this as their relationship started to change. Sure, she said that she still loved her no matter what engine she had, but there was clearly a lot different now. Greaseball was going through a lot of really intense changes to her body. Metalwork was being put through intense testing, and there were, of course, things being removed and replaced and upgraded, which she was used to in the racing sense. But now it was in a different sense, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do to help.
Greaseball was in a lot of physical pain, not even getting started on the mental warfare this was bringing along with it that Greaseball wouldn't admit was happening. It was just a lot of things going on at once, and Dinah was trying her best to be there. To hold her hand and kiss her cheeks and wipe her tears when it all got to be too much, which was more often than either of them would like to admit.
But they were trying to get through it. They knew it was going to be difficult when Greaseball first wanted to convert, and they made a promise to each other to stick it out until the end. They were going to keep that promise, and they were going to be alright; they had to be or they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.
Dinah made sure to take notes on everything Greaseball was going through: the changes in mood, how she was sleeping for longer and longer, and not wanting to get up in the morning. How she was avoiding mirrors and even training sometimes, complaining about pain in her chest. Recording every time she found her crying in the bathroom because she just couldn't keep herself together anymore. Dinah couldn't bear to see her hurting like this, but she had no idea what to do to fix it.
Greaseball was in the bathroom, just looking at her engine, opening the compartment and looking at the neon yellow coolant glowing around her engine as it buzzed almost silently. She couldn't understand why it didn't look right. It was like she was looking at something detached from her body.
This wasn't her; it was simply a reflection of someone else she was staring at through their eyes. It all felt so still, so clean and quiet. Having had a diesel engine her whole life, she was so used to the loud rumbling of her engine, the vibrations of her revving going through her chassis like thunder. The way that fumes bellowed out of her exhaust and how good it smelt when she fuelled up again. How refreshing it was to have a heavy full tank of gas after running it as dry as possible. She… missed it. Greaseball actually missed it. Oh Starlight, she had made such a massive mistake.
Dinah had just gotten back after picking up some groceries, packing them away she noticed that Greaseball wasn't around. She had been trying to do a little research into the whole conversion thing, and she thought she might have an answer for it. And when she knocked on the door, seeing Greaseball just staring at the mirror, she knew this was the right thing for her to do.
"Greaseball, honey?" She asked softly, trying not to startle her. Greaseball looked up at her and sighed, giving a weak smile before melting back into that dower sadness she had been carrying for so long.
"I was thinking about how you've been lately and I just wanted to talk." Dinah needed to be careful or she would only upset her more. "I just wanted to ask you about how you feel about no longer being diesel, because I just think maybe we should talk about it?"
After a silence that was a little too long for Dinah's oven, Greaseball made a little humming noise. She understood what the question was about, but there was so much she wanted to say and she just couldn't. She didn't know how she was supposed to get it out.
Dinah noticed the hesitation and took her hand, giving her a soft reassuring smile to try and comfort her more. With that tenderness, Greaseball felt her floodgates open.
"I just hate being like this! I really want to have my diesel engine back and I miss everything about it, I miss all the noise and the smell and the way it made me feel and how it was just the right shape and size. I hate this engine so much and I just want to go back to the way I like it. I like winning and being the strongest but this makes me feel so much weaker all over and I just want to feel like myself again. I don't care that maybe it was what Electra needed but I don't want this. I want to go back to being me again instead of trying to be the best. I was the best when I was diesel. I felt so much more - I don't know I just hate this."
With a deep sigh Greaseball felt the weight lift from her chest. "And, it's not like I have a thing against changing my engine or anything its just not working for me, and I feel horrible and like, I know this was my choice but I chose it for the wrong reasons and I want to go back. It's not like the mechanics fault or even stupid Rusty's fault, it was me for not listening to my actual thought and knowing this isn't right for me. I want to be diesel." She finished her rambling, feeling much better about it all now, knowing that she had gotten it all out there and that she didn't have to pretend anymore.
Greaseball had some pretty repressed feelings about not winning the race, and she didn't know how to deal with it in any other way than to just be better. To do the thing that she thought would make her better, and when she tried, here she was in more misery and even less likely to be a winner again. She knew what she wanted to do now, she wanted to be diesel again. That was what she knew inside and out now she had this extra bit of confirmation.
Dinah was patient. She knew Greaseball had been going through a lot mentally, and she had been supporting her in anyway she could. Hearing that this wasn't right and she wanted to go back, she just nodded and kissed her forehead.
"I know. And I know you're not blaming anyone else. I know you're not trying to cuss out Electra. You just wanted to be you. And winning seemed like such a big part of it, that for you it seemed better to push everything else away to get it. I know. And I love you. I love you no matter what's on the inside or out. Just like I know you love me in that way. Coach, diesel, electric, steam, freight. Anything. I'm here for you. I'll call the mechanic in the morning to talk though options for getting your engine back." She said, not sure how exactly to do it, but she could figure someway to do it.
Greaseball sighed with relief. She was lucky that she had someone like Dinah. Not many, if any people change back after this kind of this, she'd be the rare case, but she was thankful for Dinah being there. It would be difficult for them both, hard to get used to the changes and having things replaced like they used to be, but she could do it. And without having tried steam like this, she'd probably be more set on it than ever, rather than where she was now, knowing she actually needed her diesel engine to be herself.
Greaseball leaned in against Dinah's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her. "Thank you. I know it's a bit of a rollercoaster with me." She kissed her cheek, and then her lips. A rollercoaster? Yes, but one they would both choose to be on together.
~~~~
Gif from: @thegirl20 from this post
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Bat Out of Hell The Musical Mini Fic - Falco x Sloane
Fandom: Bat Out of Hell The Musical
Type: Fluffy
Rating: SFW
Triggers: N/A
~~~~
Falco was not one to entertain small and stupid games. In fact, he was more tempted to hit his head on the side of his desk than focus on that kind of thing. But sometimes, he had to put his own wants aside for the sake of his wife. Or at least that was what he did when he was younger, more stupid and more in love than he was now.
There were much more important things to focus on than that kind of game between him and Sloane. They had a child to worry about and these riots that seemed never-ending. Work, shopping, laundry, cooking – all of the things that parents had to manage. Never mind that fact; he could get some servants to do most of it, but the pressures were still there regardless. And at the end of the day he was the one who was making sure everything happened.
He was the one making sure it all went along smoothly. He was the one who was making sure that Raven was safe, fed and got everything she needed. He was the one making sure Sloane's credit card didn't decline at the bar when she snuck out thinking he wouldn't notice her gone. He always noticed; he just never mentioned it because he didn't have enough time away from work to. He needed to just focus on keeping the city safe.
It had been a long day at the office, organising support, searches and continued watch on The Lost as he knew how dangerous they could be. He knew what they might be like if he wasn't on his guard at all times. And after all that he just needed to go home and get some sleep.
Loosening his tie as he kicked his shoes off at the door, he made sure to check on Raven first. She was sleeping soundly in her bed, with no signs of any kind of bad dream. That calmed Falco much more than anything else ever could. He smiled to himself and then went to his own bedroom, not sure if he wanted Sloane to be awake or not.
Sloane was lying in bed, sleeping softly but not deeply, as she had been trying to stay awake to figure out when he got home. Falco sighed, watching her twist slightly, shying away from the noise of the door as he started to get undressed as quietly as possible.
Once down to his boxers he slipped into bed, laying down on his back trying to get to sleep and let his mind run out of ideas. There was so much in his mind at the moment with the risks that The Lost posed to him, and he hardly knew what to do with himself. He just knew he needed to protect his family and that was all he cared about.
Feeling the dip in the bed, Sloane turned to Falco. They didn't normally cuddle while they slept as it wasn't really practical, but she wanted some attention, even if she was half asleep. This was her husband and she needed to make sure that he was still somewhat interested in being affectionate to her.
Slowly she shuffled closer and then managed to rub her foot against Falco's leg. He was so warm, and so she tried to wrap their legs together, wanting to be nice and toasty for the rest of the night. Falco took in a sharp breath as Sloane was very cold, almost to the point that he should be concerned about her circulation.
It irritated him but he couldn't bring himself to push her away. She wanted the comfort and deep down somewhere he wanted to give it to her. So, with a sigh he wrapped his arms around her, letting her snuggle against his chest, even if it wouldn't help him get to sleep. It was worth giving up a little more of his time so that she could get a little more out of it.
Her hair fell against his chest and he watched as she breathed slowly. Something in that moment reminded him why he had done all of this. He loved her. That was why they were here and sometimes he forgot that, as ridiculous as it was to realise. He did love her, even if he wasn't the best at showing it. Falco just hoped that deep down, she knew it and perhaps she still loved him just as much.
~~~~
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Poleaxes, also known in French as great arming axes, were a man-sized late evolution of fighting axes that appeared in the 14th century and were used for a little bit more than a hundred years, up to and including the War of the Roses. They were primarily used by knights and armored men-at-arms on foot against other armored foes. Unlike other polearms like halberds, they were used in very close quarters.
A poleaxe is divided in three parts, named the tête/head or gros bout/big bit, the demy-hache/half-axe and queue/tail. They roughly correspond to one third of the weapon each, and are defined by where they sit in relation to the user’s hands. The tête is composed of the croix/cross, which is the axe head. It can be made of any two of a taillant/axe, a mail/hammer or a becq de faulcon/spike. A dague/dagger, basically a spear of ahlspiess head, is fitted over the croix with attelles/languettes that run down the haft. A rouelle is sometimes present to protect the hand at the top third mark of the haft, and very rarely a second one can be present at the bottom third mark to protect the other hand. The queue ends with a talon/heel, which can be a ferrule or a spike used to buttstroke your foe.
Poleaxes were later phased out by the longer Lucerne hammers and halberds as warfare evolved into the early Renaissance. A general trick to distinguish a poleaxe from other similar weapons is to look for its two-part head, made of croix and the dague.
This is back on my dash! And listen, I love to see Amir Khusrau getting appreciation, but this translation ignores a lot. The original rhymes! And scans! And does playful things with register! And conveys a tone of affectionate banter between the two speakers, not least because it has them both addressing each other as sakhi (translated above as “girl”) in the last two lines. I think taking some liberties with line order is worth it to preserve more of the rest—and I think there’s a better translation of sakhi. And so:
He only visits once a year,
I splurge big on him when he’s here,
His kisses make my tastebuds tango.
Who, bitch, your man?
Nah, bitch, a mango.
