#//jesus FUCKING christ i just saw what this post looks like on mobile i am. so sorry.

[outofthiisworld]

plots please + give me ur whims

-j.ustin m.celroy voice- welcome. babies. To The Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment: A Scary Castle with 100 Rats.

I uh. went super batshit wacko mode below the read more, cause there is just too much fun to be had with your muses. cool reminder than none of these are in any way expected, just throwing spaghetti at the wall here! 🍝

—Plot a—

ATLAS au, of course! This tends to be my go-to but like…plaaaay with me. You have a scientist muse. I have a scientist muse. They’re both old, stubborn bastards. We should shove them in a box together and see what happens. Gero would be a godsend for the space colony, and I can easily see him either raising the ranks to being an Upper Echelon if he wouldn’t be one from the jump due to his incredible work in both mechanical and genetic engineering. He’d also have near-free will to work on whatever he pleased as long as it cultivated ATLAS’ so you know. That’s wonderfully terrifying. Doc was the primary medic who was tasked in both research & development of many of ATLAS’ bio experiments and lifeforms (as well as regular crew members too!) so i can see these two very easily be forced to work together on plenty of projects. While muses have a mind of their own and who knows how things will develop, I get vibes that these two might have a… enemies to friends to enemies again relationship? They’re both stubborn geniuses with conflicting personalities, but they both have similar work ethics and would probably bond over NOT bonding with others in the colony. The thrill of science!!! However— Doc is a man led by his heart, and as the clock ticks closer to Doc’s eventual betrayal against ATLAS that sparked the containment breach and their personalities clashing again— Gero is… a very good case of the type of scientist that Doc grows such mistrust and hate for. There’s an ironic tragedy in this somewhere i can smell it. Also side note: Doc, pointing at fetus Cell in a test tube: GERO what in the HELL is THAT ???

—Plot b—

This one is cheating because it has to do with Sofia and her lil bro Guadalupe, who don’t even have their character sheets finished yet (but I hope to remedy that by this weekend for at least Sofia—cross my fingers), however you asked for my whims so whims you will get. I think it’d be neat if Takuma knew Sofia from school or something similar before she disappeared— maybe she was Nicole’s friend and they met through her? Sofia does… not have any friends, so I can see Nicole and Takuma being the couple that look at this shaking, panicking mess and be like………..well…………someone has to take care of her i guess. In the ✨timeline✨, Sofia is yoinked by ATLAS on her 20th birthday— after Guadalupe convinces her to leave the house for once in her life and celebrate it! She could have gone out with both Nicole and Takuma— and then uh. You know. Yoink. Up to here it can go in SO MANY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS depending on how you’d want to go with this. A few ideas spit-balled: - If all of them are yoinked, Lupe would spend his days trying to search for all three of them. - If Takuma doesn’t get yoinked with Sofia and got lucky— Lupe can knock on Takuma’s door middle of the night being like: “hey quit your job and join my descent into madness my silly roadtrip adventure to try and find my sister.” (at the moment, I’m planning on Lupe to accidentally become a monster hunter/cryptology nonsense so Takuma can join in on the fun). - Takuma ATLAS experiment au (the crowd goes silent. No one is surprised)

—Plot c—

Back at it again with ATLAS— I’m sorry I’m like this man, those bastards have been on my mind lately. Anyway, you wanna cause some MORE everlasting trauma for poor Cynara? I got the perfect place for it, you’ll never believe it. Cynara can fit in so many different places for ATLAS. She could be a crew member, possibly an engineer who is unaware of the secrets that ATLAS hides? Until, you know. She finds out by accident and her self-destructive compassion is put to the test. She could easily be an experiment— Hell, maybe ATLAS saw a crew member digging too close to the truth, they didn’t like that so they were like: alright bet *experiments on you against your will* Or— maybe she was in a similar boat to Ophelia/Sofia— got yoinked while minding her own business; regardless of where it goes, I think it’d be a fun way to poke at her theme of feeling helpless despite all her prowess.  We love some existential dread here in this house. What she was experimented for and what happens to her is all up to you (obviously), either something completely new or throw in references for her skinned verse or her lovely black hole powers she has going on later (which, could land her right in the hot seat to be in that ELiTe ExpEriMenT task force that Ophelia was part of. I really need to workshop a better name for that team before the placeholder name becomes official…) Regardless, her compassion and altruism would be a breath of fresh air for both Doc and Ophelia— and her never ending, martyrdom tendencies could give Doc the wake up call to kick start the containment breach. And you know. If Cynara wants to be part of their found family in the end <33

I feel like I need to financially compensate you for reading all this.

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 10 ~Friend Request~

Willie glanced at his watch. It had been a hectic morning at The Fraser Manor Inn kitchen waiting for the arrival of the new kitchen appliances and making sure they were all according to order specifications. With the job done and with two hours to spare, he had time to install fixtures and fittings for Claire and Geillis in their newly rented house before heading back to Lallybroch to take his mother shopping. Instead of using the car, Willie jogged to the girls' residence. It was a brisk run as it was only fifteen minutes walk away.

He was about to knock on the door when something caught his periphery.  What the...?  Turning sideways, he saw Claire lying very still on her front on a patch of grass, head tilted and shoulders bunched. He wanted to say something to grab her attention and asked what the hell she was doing, but something made him stop. iPhone held with both hands, she was poised to take a picture. Biting her lower lip in concentration, a thumb hovered on the screen button ready to tap. Combing the vicinity for the object of her inspiration, his gaze landed on an immobile grey cat looking directly at her with alert eyes, already prepared to pounce or to scamper away at the slightest movement. Seemingly entranced with Claire's soft voice, the feral animal tipped and dipped its head at the sound she was making.

"Here's a good kitty...that's it, sweety, keep looking this way. I have a dish of milk waiting for you," she hummed softly.

Willie held his breath, mentally urging her to capture the perfect shot. A few heartbeats went past, but the opportunity went flying out the window, when the ping sound of her phone spooked the cat, causing it to scurry into the fields. Still unaware he was stood there, Claire groaned loudly, letting her head fall on the ground in frustration for a few seconds. When she finally raised her head to look at her phone screen, Willie saw her body stiffen, and her hands shook.

Alarmed, he immediately went to her. "Hey Claire, ye alright?"

Startled, Claire's head spun in Willie's direction, hurriedly scrambling into sitting position and composing her face. "Oh...hey. I was taking a daft photo," she explained feebly, her cheeks flaming bright pink. "I didn't hear you coming. Where did you come from?"

"I jogged from the hotel. Ye were so engrossed with what ye were doing, I didn't want to interrupt." Willie kneeled down, concern carved on his face. He could see her knuckles were white from clutching her mobile. "What's this?" He pried the phone off her hand with little resistance as it renewed its consecutive pinging sounds. His face went white as he looked down on the device's screen and read the vile messages. There was no avoiding it. "Jesus, Claire, who is sending ye these? And who is Lee Dee?"

Claire brushed off Willie's sharp question, refusing to look at him. "I don't know...I keep blocking them on Facebook, but they keep coming back with different names," she whispered hoarsely. She visibly shook herself, smoothing away the grass and damp from her jeans and summoning a smile. "C'mon, let's go inside, it's cold. It's probably just some sick person who has nothing better to do. Let's forget about it, ok?" She tried to grab her phone back from Willie's hand, but he held it away from her.

Not bothering to ask her permission, Willie continued to swipe up the phone screen to reveal more sickening and shocking lines. "Hell, no, Claire. This is serious. How long has this been going on?" he asked in a low voice, a line forming between his eyebrows.

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Four or five months, give or take."

"For fuck sake, Claire, that long? Does Jamie know?" Willie dragged down a hand on his face, trying to comprehend why anyone would send such messages to her.

"No!" The word emerged as a shout, laced in annoyance. "It's not important. Willie, please, just forget about it. Don't make a mountain out of a mole. Jamie's plate is overcrowded as it is, and the last thing he needs is worrying about something as silly as random stupid messages from the internet. I can handle this on my own. I'm an adult now in case you've forgotten...and you...you can stop acting like I need protection." She knew he wouldn't listen to reason, so she continued firmly. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. So, drop it."

It was difficult for him to believe her when he could see flickers of pain in her eyes. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her there, but in doing so, he would be allowing himself to feel more than he should.  This is Jamie's girl,  reminding himself, and Jamie had asked him to look out for her. Respecting that wish was something Willie didn't take lightly, and it was a responsibility he took seriously. With incredible will power, he quickly kissed her on the forehead, instead of giving her the usual brotherly hug, and turned towards the entrance door. "Aye, ye're probably right. It's probably nothing. Let's go inside then and put up those new curtain rails."

Appeased, Claire let them into the house with Willie close behind. Once inside, he watched her make a beeline to the kitchen cupboard, and with shaking hands, she retrieved two tumblers and poured a generous measure of whisky in each glass. It was then and there he realised her drinking could have something to do with the messages she had been receiving.

..........

Lying on the bed, Jamie stared at the ceiling of his hotel room. The plan had been to track down Annalise's adoptive family, but she was so damn elusive of their whereabouts, he had no choice but to drop the subject and the idea of attempting to find them. He knew she had severed their ties because of her abusive past suffered in their hands, but surely there must be somebody else in her life who cares about her.  Friends? Long distant relatives? Acquaintances? Where are they? She couldn't have lived all her life not having anyone.

His mind drifted back to four days ago to their initial conversation.  So, Jamie Fraser, for my second wish...I want to ask you...will you be my husband, until death takes hold of me? I don't want to die alone.  Of all the things he thought Annalise would ask of him, he had definitely not foreseen that. Speechless and unsure how to proceed, all he could do was bury his face in his hands, giving himself time to formulate his next words...or action. It didn't help that his attention was divided continuously by his constant thoughts of Claire. There was no help. He wanted her so badly, in all sorts of ways that it made him ache all over.  Christ, I miss her.

Mistaking his silence as contemplation, Annalise had walked over to him, reaching out to lay his head on her burgeoning belly.

Her touch had made him jump with a start. "No Annalise...no." His abruptness had startled both of them, but he was determined to keep her at arm's length. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, especially not in her condition. Studying her as he grappled for the right words, he thought he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. Or was it jealousy? Before he could read more into it, that damn mask was back on again. "Christ, Annalise...I'm truly sorry. Bloody hell, ye're dying, but I cannae grant ye this." He paused, releasing his pent up breaths. "No. I am here to help ye, but that is one wish I can't deliver. No, I cannae marry ye. I have someone... a-and I love her."

As expected, she had retreated back to her seat and to that impregnable veil, only shaking her head in response, maybe as a self-reproof for her own forwardness or embarrassment for being denied. "Of course..oh God. How could I ask you for such a thing? No... please don't be sorry. It's me who should be apologising. What was I thinking?" she sputtered, managing a self-conscious laugh at herself. "I had to ask because I'm desperate, it was the only way. I've never minded being on my own, but the idea of dying with no one in my life to speak of is terrifying. But I have to be content with the knowledge you'll make sure my baby will go to a loving home."

Looking at Annalise sat on the single armchair that seemed to swallow her, she had looked fragile, small, and so lost. She lived in a city that never sleeps, and it's thronged with people, jostling and going about their business without a care, and every day, she viewed the street below, like watching life go by in her absence from a fishbowl. Suddenly the small apartment had seemed suffocating, and Jamie knew he couldn't stay. He needed to get out of there to think clearly. Despite the silent plea in her eyes begging him to stay, he didn't, but he promised he would come back.

Came back, he did. They talked as he poured over papers upon papers of printed doctors' diagnosis and examinations that Annalise handed to him. It may as well had been written in Chinese as Jamie's thoughts bounced to and fro, her words going in one ear and out the other, and the medical documents were nothing but a blur. Nothing was registering when his mind kept wandering to Claire and the dialogue he had with his brother.  Claire has a drinking problem. 

Although trust had been verbally established between them, he didn't want to give her any reasons to doubt; hence, he had checked himself into a hotel and regularly updated Claire with news, omitting the part on Annalise's final wish. And after Willie's admission of his deep-seated fondness for Claire, he didn't want anyone thinking that she was available for dates especially now that her arrival back in Lallybroch had piqued interest. Thus, he had posted the picture he took of them on Facebook, tagging her and updating his status, in a relationship. She wasn't impressed as she was never one to post a photo of herself on any social media platforms, but she gave in eventually, knowing his counterargument would be unreasonable. Now that it's out there loud and clear, there should be no more misunderstanding.

Jamie held no illusions that his mere presence by Annalise would solve everything, nor was he arrogant enough to believe that every second of the five days he had spent with Claire, would guarantee a  happily ever after.  The crack of jagged daylight on Claire's wall was just beginning to show, and no longer did she have that worry in her eyes that their relationship would be met with disapproval. The deeply etched line between the two of them had been brushed away... for now, and he intended to continue to break that crack of light wide open.

He had made up his mind. Jamie was taking Annalise to Lallybroch with him, and that decision was based on selfish reasons. He missed Claire. Jamie needed her now. Even before Willie had confessed Claire's possible drinking problem, he already knew she was still fighting a lot of insecurities. How often, over the years, had he seen Claire vibrating with suppressed emotions? The thought made everything masculine inside him react. A bolt of heat had hit its mark, spreading throughout his loins. He was aching for her desperately if the outrageously full erection was any indication.  She's mine to fix, and she's mine to balance. Love provides that balance.

With shaking hands, he reached out for his iPhone on the bedside table and facetime Claire. She answered on the first ring, draped in a bathrobe, a mug of tea poised at her lips. He could see she was in her bedroom. "Jaime!"

"Sassenach..." His voice sounded hoarse to his ears. Christ, she's beautiful...Sorcha.  "What are ye doing? Are ye alone in the house?"

"Umm, Willie and Geillis are in the kitchen. Willie stopped by for dinner earlier. It was the least we could do for him after he did a few jobs for us around the house. I've excused myself, and I was just about to read a book." Claire disappeared from the screen as she twisted to her side to set the mug by the bedside table. "Are you alright, Jamie? You have that funny look on your face." She paused for a few seconds. "Uh-oh, I know that look."

"Lock yer door, Sassenach."

Claire didn't need telling twice as if she could read his mind and quickly scrambled from the bed. When she came back on the screen, excitement flashed in her eyes. "Now what?" she whispered, in anticipation.

"Take off yer robe. I want to see all yer naked body," Jaime demanded in a thick voice, as he slid down his sweatpants and boxer shorts, and wrapped his hand around his cock. "I want to see ye touch yersel'. I want to watch ye."

"Oh!" A heartbeat passed." Are you touching yourself?" she asked, her voice cracking and eyes doubling in size. Without waiting for him to answer, she went out of focus while she set her phone upon a stack of cushions, fussing and fiddling to place it at a right angle. He could almost see her blushing and smell her scent when he shut his eyes, envisioning her before him.

"Aye, I've been thinking of ye the whole day, and it's given me a painful cock-stand. I need ye so badly...please let me watch ye, Sassenach." His fist squeezed up and down his erection as he watched Claire sank back against a pile of pillows and slowly unknotted the tie to her bathrobe.

"Jamie, I've never done this before..." She looked painfully shy but at the same time, so damn sexy. He swallowed hard as his eyes focused on her hands, parting her bathrobe, ever slowly, revealing inch by inch the smooth white skin.  So beautiful, my lass, love, love her.

"Christ, ye're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on...look at what ye do to me. The thought of ye makes me so hard and seeing ye like that in bed is enough to drive me crazy," he rasped, tightening his hold on his aching throb. "Touch yersel', Sassenach, and pretend it's my hands touching ye."

The need in his voice must have coaxed her to slipped off her panties, her glazed eyes boring into him. Her chest and cheeks were flushed, and her tits were larger than usual.  She must be having her period soon,  he thought 

Her head fell backwards, shaking hands sliding up her stomach to cup her swollen breasts. As fingers rubbed over her nipples, her breath caught in her throat. "Oh God, Jamie..."

"I got ye Sassenach, I see ye...fuck, ye're so gorgeous," he gritted, his hand moving faster along his length. "Think of me sucking those beautiful tits."

The sound of his shallow breathing and the hitch of his breath encouraged her more. Staring into the screen on the phone, she spread her legs apart, his darkening eyes following every movement of her hands. She slid one hand down her stomach and dipped closer between her thighs. Slipping her fingers between the folds of her mound, she thrust them into her centre. "Oh, God, yes..." She moaned as she swiped the moisture from her sex, rubbing her finger over her sensitive spot.

"Look at me Sassenach...keep looking at me. I love ye, ye understand," His accent was becoming thicker by every word as he watched her finger movement grow erratic, his own hips rocking hard beneath the motion of his hands. "I love every fucking inch of ye. There's only been ye...ye hear me. Ye're mine. Mine. Say it."

"I'm yours, Jamie...always," she sobbed, working her finger in a circle between her thighs. "Oh, God, oh, God...Jamie..." Claire's gaze stayed on his, her eyelids weighed down with lust. "I'm nearly there..." Panting, she reached and pinched her nipple, her fingers repeatedly rubbing between her wet folds. 

"So beautiful...so beautiful. Aye, that's it, don't stop. I'm with ye...love ye so much. So sweet..." Her body arched and convulsed in response, as his head buzzed and spun with urgency. "Jesus, Jesus Christ," Jamie gritted out, his own body racked with shudders, as his release came shooting out his hand, gripping him with near-paralysing bliss.

They both went silent as they allowed the waves of pleasure to subside, content to simply be and gaze at each other. As Claire curled up to hug a pillow, Jamie made a move to get up from his bed. "How are ye feeling?"

She nodded and smiled. "Sleepy..."

"Don't switch off the phone yet. I want to watch ye sleep. I'll be in the bathroom to clean mysel'" Jamie whispered, his chest expanding with love as he watched her body relax and her eyes strived to remain open.

"Good night, Jamie," she mumbled, pulling the covers over her shoulder and placing the phone next to her.

"Sassenach? I have something to tell ye...before you go to sleep."

"Mmm?"

"I'm coming home in two days."

Her eyes fluttered open for a few seconds, but he knew she was too tired to ask questions. It was just as well as he didn't feel like talking about Annalise after what they just shared. "I can't wait..." were her last words before Claire nodded to sleep.

..........

By the time Willie reached Lallybroch, his parents were already asleep. He wanted to speak to Claire before leaving her, but he heard her bedroom locking as he was about to knock. Sitting alone, by the fire, in the family room, he took out his phone and read the message from Jamie letting him know he was coming home with Annalise. 

Having never met Jamie's ex-girlfriend, he decided to reserve his judgement when he meets her. There were other pressing matters that concerned him as he browsed through his picture gallery. Earlier, Willie made a few screenshots of the messages Claire received on Facebook and had it sent to his own phone. The date on one particular message disturbed him as it was sent way before Claire arrived Lallybroch and before she and Jamie became a couple.

You fucking whore, do you know it's incest to sleep with your brother? You're nothing but an ugly cunt.

He browsed through Claire's Facebook profile, knowing already she never posted a picture of herself. The images she posted were more of a hobby photography kind. There was only one photo of herself which Jamie posted and tagged her in, and this was from a few days ago. Swiping up further, he searched for a post nearer to the date when the vile messages started landing in Claire's inbox. They began on the day when she announced on Facebook she was coming home to Lallybroch to stay for good.

[saint-patrice]

so i know a lot of people have opinions on backes and whatnot but would you be willing to do a post on him similar to the carlo and grzelcyk ones?

i will preface this by saying that i have absolutely no knowledge on the david backes ~discourse~ so sorry if this offends but, hell yeah!! i respect backes because he took one look at his surname and saw that it could clearly be pronounced as one syllable, but instead decided that he wanted it to be two. and all power to him

Note: a few people have said they like these posts, so i’m happy to take requests if there’s a particular player you’d like to see! see this page (or hopefully this link should work if you’re on mobile. should.) for details, and a list of ones i’ve done so far :)

(gif via @goaliefight) despite his old man status, he’s very agile - here he is executing a perfect leap over an obstacle in the shape of a minnesota wild player. very impressive on all fronts, he could probably qualify for several olypmic gymnastics teams if he keeps this up

oof. this one hits where it hurts. i have to admit that my actual thirst levels for dadkes are pretty much zero, so my eye is rather drawn to the left of this photo, but these are two excellently dressed, confident-looking men who will take no shit, and i love that

(gif via @cparayko) happy dadkes!! i love that for him. and if you noticed the bottom of this image as i did, there is unfortunately no way to get through this post without occasional mention of that team, as much as i tried :(

i love the backes family zoo!!!! every photo of him with his pups or a kitten adds 1.7 years onto my life, they’re so cute. and his tiny little daughter oh my goodness!!! almost too adorable

i know i said ‘backes family zoo’ but this might be taking it one step too far, don’t you think….?

(gif via @nosefacekillah) he checked him into next fucking week!!!!! simply incredible. 

“fuck bl*es rights” - david backes, 2019

(gif via @bradmarchrad) backes, brooding. i don’t know what about though, suggestions on a postcard?

the bit of him doing the announcement on the plane to china on the behind the b is iconic, massive dad vibes from that. but….backes why. there is no escaping this fucking photo however hard we try and maybe we all just need to embrace that fact :/

this is the very definition of visual dissonance. the colours are giving me a very intense headache, but shoutout to the fact that backes’ very loud purple suitcase matches his equally loud blazer i guess? someone give this man some fashion pointers, i am begging

(gif via @brandoncarlo) david backes decides who in hockey deserves rights, and drew d*ughty sure doesn’t qualify for that list, and here he is proving it by trying to knock what’s left of his teeth out. thanks dad!

stone cold savagery

more puppy content!!! i am insatiable when it comes to pictures of hockey players w dogs

this is so sweet i’m going to cry. the bruins really blessed us with the christmas shopping content and i cannot thank them enough

a goalie pup!!! also how fucking young is he here jesus christ. baby backes

going for the rugged look with some plummage. funny things i’ve seen this captioned include “when your dad makes you come downstairs and eat dinner with the family” 

:^)

the bruins really are just a team full of men with nice noses who suit glasses huh?

and who could forget this iconic text exchange with charlie mcavoy, along with the accompanying video?

thank you anon!!

[trashp1x1e]

Some shit went down at this Christian co op that I go to

Tw: homophobia and light swearing (I'm also on mobile and with a phone which tends to disagree with what I'm typing sometimes )

(for those who want to know I'm 14 and a pan cis guy)

SO (excuse my language) SOME BULLSHIT FUCKERY HAPPEND STRAP IN FOLKS THIS IS A LONG ONE!!! (that's what she said) goddddddddddd i'm mad i i rarely get mad and swear but boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy howdy now here is how i might have gotten kicked out of my co op for talking about lgbt

me and my homie / closeted ex boyfriend who we shall bestow the name Link were talking about lgbt stuff like we do every time we are on break in the empty hallways and someone overheard us (probs cuz´ we were being loud)and went and talked to the owner and later in the day he told us to come talk to him in an icy calm tone (never a good thing)

Now Link was already in some hot water because in cooking my friend who we shall name Zelda (real orignal I know) made a joke (i can't remember what it was about but it was harmless ) which caused the teacher to tell at Zelda to leave and caused Link to have an anxity attack because his partner was getting yelled at and the teacher told him to get out as well when we were walking with the owner who we shall call Gannondorf (sticking with the Zelda theme) we saw the cooking teacher which Gannon was talking to so i thought "oh hey he's gonna talk to Link about getting kicked out of cooking...but wait why am i here instead of Zelda..I'm not in cooking I don't even get there before it starts " right as my mind is racing Gannon told us That talking about gender and sexuality it and it violated the code of conduct under "egregious"acts.

(I'm scared for Link's safety so I tell him to out me instead of himself cause I think his mom has some sort of grudge against the whole ass lgbt)

Y'all smell that..? Oh no sorry i just stepped in some BULLSHIT!!!! The fucking code of conduct doesn't give that any examples of egregious act s!!!!Jesus fucking Christ c'mon at least SOME examples if you are gonna send someone home turn this bullshit!

And what we were talking about wasn't that bad unless you count "hey i thought my father was gay lol i don't know why i thought that when I was really young" and "oh I'm really grateful that you accept you for liking guys" nothing NSFW just joking around and talking about lgbt..which we do every fucking time we hang out!!

(Now i'm scared for Link's safety so I tell him to out me instead of himself cause I think his mom has some sort of grudge against the whole ass LGBTQ+ )

Anyways Gannon tells us to call our parents and tell them that we need to be picked up and he would be sending an email to our parents and seeing if we could come back(which in my opinion was dumb reason to send someone home)

Link is now panicing and is calling there mom and shaking because A his mom might be homophobic and suspect that he's in the lgbtq B his mom mentally barrages him enough C it's a 30 minute drive from to get to co op so yay for Link's mom...she I'm ok because I'm out to my parents and I tell my mom and dad what's going down and my dad said he will pick me up since my mom is at work

While waiting for our parents to get here Link got up to get something and he came back with my BI-Icon/dad who I'm gonna call Impa she tells me to not out myself and to out her instead (she is a fucking legend) but its too late now and I tell her that,then a spiteful Bitch who I was decently acquainted with asked Link "are you going to cry again?" NOW LET ME TELL YOU NOBODY FUCKS WITH MY FRIENDS AND SAYS THAT TYPE OF SHIT TO THEM is what I thought...I wanted to beat the shit out of this fool but I breathe in and let the anger disappear but I made sure my words rang with force I said "that was extremely rude and unnecessary get out." because it's not worth it to get in a fight and causing legal shit. Once that bitch finally left we told Impa to go get our group of friends which we call the HomieSexuals since the Gay best friends doesn't have a ring to it

Impa returns with everyone and they were just as pissed as I was but I didn't show it because that would stress everyone out even more so my body language and tone said "Pass me a la Croix " but I was pissed and then there was my number one Ally who looked like they were bout to cry but she said she " cries when she is pissed off " that's the first time I've heard her use anything close to swearing

(insert angry as fuk picture)

My ride gets here and I say my goodbyes and I hug everyone and say "ight I'm bout to head out" to ease the tension and lighten the mood

I head out and enter my dad's car and tell him what went down and he said with how many little kids he saw n coming out the bulding it wasn't my call weather they were exposed to the lgbt or not and that that's up to their parents" first off dad you make it sound like I was dressed up as a drag queen and was handing out pride flags to kids (something I would do tbh) he was more or less pissed that i was so chill about things (which I do when I should be nervous around my friends I want them to feel safe because fuck stress) after he got after me for being chill I got home and got to texting people to see what happened while I left A Gannons wife who looks like a Karen in training you know what I'm gonna call her KIT for short, KIT told the HomieSexuals to leave Link alone and as far as I was informed they weren't being too loud...after that I got a few texts from some others that i knew and hung around with told me that this was indeed bullshit and they had my back and that it's discrimination and that's kinda illegal cause this is technically counted as a private school . so Gannon if you do some how by some medical read this that's illegal buddy...make talking about lgbt against the rules and you might have a problem on your hands 😀👉👉

I haven't gotten a response from Link to see if they are ok yet but I'll keep y'all posted

Peace out my HomieSexuals

Tldr I might have gotten expelled from a co op talking about lgbtq

Edit#1 link is ok he just got the dumb ass pubishment of not being able to cut his hair

I got the option of being able to take class but not hang out on break or leave and and get a refund

So me and my mom said “ight ama head out”

Oh oh and you know what’s funny?

Link is ok! He’s in the clear that boi is Gucci oh no no Bitch I’m done! I’m so glad I left that place! Wanna know why that fucker is ok? Cause it told him to put my PanSexy ass! And he did! Hey fucker! That’s discrimination! But we can’t do jack fucking shit against Gannon cause he called my mom instead of emailing her there isn’t proof that he fuckin kicked me out!

Oh! Btw! My friend who I’ll call Joji found out who told Gannon :D

He is an adult who high key is a boomer ngl.

But heyyyy now I won’t have to deal with baby boomer bullshit from that place now!

If I ever see Gannon I hope i can record him saying some incriminating shit

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

STREET SAINTS #3: THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO RON

     This week’s episode of Street Saints™ is brought to you by...me, your Better Days Are A Toenail Away beat reporter. I’m kidding. This episode is about Ron, a man I met several sabbaths ago.      Now, in a recent post about payphones I briefly touched on how people these days are reluctant to let strangers use their mobile phones. I won’t argue with that. I mean, our phones contain our entire lives. But I let Ron use mine. Here’s what happened.      I was walking around aimlessly one Sunday almost two months ago when...well, that’s not exactly true. I had a definite aim in mind. I hadn’t had a cigarette in a few days and was getting desperate. I’d already asked a few people and had been rejected by all of them when I passed a barefoot man sitting on a bench outside the food bank I used to go to.      The man looked like he was having a rough day. Or a rough month. Or year. Or life. The soles of his naked feet were scabbed and black and he was wearing a collared shirt, unbuttoned and open, revealing a scarred and hairy chest. Wearily, he lifted his head as I passed and asked if he could use my phone. He asked with the same defeatist energy I’d been asking for smokes with...that is, expecting to hear a firm “no.” I freely admit that I didn’t want to loan a stranger my phone, what with COVID and germs and all that, but my heart went out to him because he looked like he really needed it, so I handed it over and sat down on the bench beside him.      “God bless you, brother,” he said. “My name’s Ron. I’ll be quick.”      “Hi Ron,” I said. “I don’t suppose you have cigarette by any chance?”               “Nope, but I can get one! Hell, I’ll buy you a whole pack, hell…two packs, for helping me out. I got a friend coming who’s gonna give me a hunnert bucks!”      I nodded, even though I didn’t exactly believe the guy. Not because he seemed like a liar but because broke people always have that one mythical payment they are waiting on, the one that will lift them above their circumstances. I’ve often borrowed money to buy heroin on the strength of some random payment I’m anticipating, money that forever waits just beyond my reach, like the baby on the cover of Nirvana’s Nevermind. (Aaaaand that simile allows me to continue my tradition of inserting Nirvana album covers into the Street Saints™ series. I am a professional writer. Do not try such similes at home.)

     ^ That baby’s name is Spencer Eldon, btw. Eldon makes his living these days by charging outlets $1000 for interviews. The interviews are pointless, given that Eldon doesn’t remember the Nevermind photo shoot because he was six months old, but unscrupulous or desperate editors continue pay his required fee. I distinctly remember a Rolling Stone feature from 2001 featuring a ten-year old Eldon in which he agreed to a reshoot of the underwater photo, and was quoted by the magazine saying “Nirvana’s okay, but Blink-182 are way better.” 

    Eldon reshot the photo again in 2008, now telling the New York Post that he preferred the Clash to Nirvana. Getting warmer, Eldon.

     Eldon did yet another anniversary reshoot in 2011 in which he said “Every five years or so, somebody’s gonna call me up and ask me about Nevermind…and I’m probably gonna get some money from it.”              I am not the first writer to make this trivial connection, but you might say Eldon’s famous photo is a metaphorical representation of his life. He is constantly swimming toward the next dollar bill on the next fishhook. You might even say that we’re all Spencer Eldon…each of us swimming toward the next paycheque, the next loan, the next stranger’s cigarette. I certainly feel that way sometimes. I definitely felt that way when all my money went to heroin. And even Ron, the barefoot preacher who spoke a few words into my phone then hung up and handed it back to me, probably felt that way too, waiting for his possibly-fictional-but-flush friend.       “He’s on his way,” Ron assured me, sensing my skepticism. “Two minutes or less. He’s driving a silver minivan. Keep an eye out.”      “Right on,” I said. “Thanks. I just need a single smoke, you don’t have to…”      “One!” scoffed Ron. “What’s one gonna do? I’ll get you a couple packs!”       Far be it for me to argue with a religious man, as both a baptized Catholic and penniless individual in need of a nicotine fix. “Cool,” I said, nodding again.       “I’ve been thinking about a woman,” Ron said, squinting at passing cars. “My first girlfriend, to be exact. Her name was Angel. As somebody who believes that the Lord Jesus Christ is my personal Savior, I’ve begun to understand the biblical importance of her name, and to understand that Angel really was an angel and that...that I shouldn’t have let her go.”      He looked at me and I saw with some alarm that he was crying. Then he began to rant about Moses and the burning bush and how he’d been “trying [his] best but sometimes your best isn’t good enough.” He told me he’d quit drugs and alcohol years ago but he still smoked because tobacco is in the bible. He said he was homeless but he’d just that day found a place for October 1st. It would be his first apartment in over a year. He said the Lord wanted him to do good deeds while he waited to move into his new place, his dollar bill on a fishhook.       As a frequent consoler of the downtrodden, I tried to think of something I could say, something that might cheer him up or summarize things, but then a minivan pulled to a stop across the street and a portly fellow disembarked and trudged over to us, smiling.       “Hey!” he hollered at me, still grinning. “Is this guy talking your ear off?”       Not wanting to make fun of my new barefoot friend, I shrugged noncommittally.       “He will if you let him,” the friend said, producing a roll of hundreds from his pocket and handing one to Ron.       Woah, I thought. Ron was telling the truth.       He hadn’t been bullshitting me. He wasn’t swimming toward some irretrievable dollar. He really did have a friend on the way to loan him money.       “Where the hell are your shoes?” the friend asked Ron. Ron shrugged and replied cryptically: “The Lord provides.”       I got up from the bench and moved away so the two friends could converse in private. I wasn’t going to hold Ron to his offer. He seemed to really need the money. But Ron and his friend didn’t talk long, just a few words and a handshake and then Ron disengaged himself and slowly sauntered over to me.      “Okay!” he announced. “Let’s go get those smokes!”       There was a bar nearby I knew about that sold reservation cigarettes for $5.50 a pack. It took us half an hour to walk one block because poor Ron was limping. He absentmindedly held the hundred pinched between two fingers as he walked, and it was flapping in the wind. Watching him, I got the sense that he didn’t really give a shit about money.       At the bar Ron bought four packs with the hundred dollar bill and gave me two of them. Two full packs of smokes. Then he asked for $5 bills in return, which struck me as odd until a few minutes later when I saw why.      On our way back to the food bank Ron told me he was training to become the oldest player to ever make an NHL debut. When you are homeless and marginalized, these kinds of dreams sustain you. They are the necessary fictions that get you through life. I won’t start talking about the dollar bill on the fishhook again, but you get my point. Then he talked about God again and expressed his faith that he was “on the right path for the first time in a long time.”      Back in front of the food bank, Ron, who was now preaching loudly about kindness for one’s fellow man, walked up to every single person in the foodbank line and handed them a $5 bill until he was down to his last $20.      I was gobsmacked. I was fucking amazed. He even tried to give me $5. And although I was totally broke, I didn’t accept the money. I had the cigarettes I’d set out to get. I might be an untrustworthy drug addict but I’m not a greedy prick. But this post isn’t about me. It’s about Ron and his selflessness.      Earlier Ron had said “the Lord will provide,” and although I’ve long been skeptical of religion and the literal truth of the bible, in that moment I could not argue with him. This was the gospel according to Ron. Sometimes you get to grab the fishhook and take your dollar.      It was a moving scene in that foodbank line. Some of the people Ron handed money to cried tears of relief. Others hugged him. All were exceptionally grateful and told him so. He just nodded solemnly and looked at me smugly as if to say see?      In the world of drug users and the downtrodden there are a lot of liars and bullshitters. You hear lots of dubious tales from people with delusions of persecution and/or grandeur. But here was a man who walked it like he talked it. He’d been preaching kindness and care toward one’s fellow humans since I’d spotted him on that bench and here he was handing his own money out to everybody like an unhoused Henry Sugar.      The man was barefoot and his feet hurt and he could have bought himself a pair of sandals at the nearby Dollarama for $3, but instead he gave everything but his last $20 away.       I walked him to the subway, telling him en route how impressed I was, how he “walked the talk.”      “Thank you Danny, I appreciate that,” he said quietly.      He was uncomfortable with my praise. I think he viewed himself an instrument of what he called “God’s light.” What he'd done, that generous display, wasn’t about him. It didn’t even seem uncharacteristic.       Now, I have a lot of atheist friends who would probably scoff at this story, friends who champion God-hating books by guys like Hitchens and Harris and Hedges, friends who delight in making fun of the devoutly religious, but I consider that attitude intellectually lazy. Bible stories are obviously rooted in the unscientific and the anecdotal. That combination is low hanging fruit for today’s well-read, well-learned skeptical individual. But I cannot disparage the actions of Ron that day, nor can I disparage the faith and belief that guides such selfless behavior.      Sensing his discomfort, I shut the fuck up and walked him the rest of the way in silence.      “I have to go now,” Ron said when we got to Spadina and Bloor. “Have a good night.”      “You too Ron.”      And as I watched him walk barefoot into the station, limping his way down the stairs to the subway, I realized I’d been in the company of a saint. 

[reddysetgo]

Personal big (like really big [I’m not kidding it got way bigger than I thought it would be{LIKE REALLY BIG}] jesus christ I had no idea) text thingy... thing

I think this doesn’t work on mobile but well anyway.

Last night I thought about some stuff and I was gonna write about that but eh that mood is gone. Also disclaimer: as I write this I’m not like sad or anything or uhh well I do have a headache after playing Xenoblade Chronicles 2 for HOURS but anyway.

So like uhh 2 days ago I was home alone for the night and I was gonna play Xenoblade (which I’m gonna call XC2 if I ever mention it again) in the living room. But here’s the thing:

2 years ago or so, during New Year’s eve, I was also alone in another house because me and my family were on a trip. That night some people threw a rock at one window and got inside and stole some bags, electronics and my laptop. My two dogs were right by the stairs and I was upstairs in the bathroom. When I first heard the sound I assumed it came from the street because well maybe someone dropped a bottle or something. But then my dog started barking endlessly and I knew what that meant. What my parents had been warning me about for years had finally happened. The bathroom door was unlocked and I had no way to lock it at the time. My phone just couldn’t call any number, I was completely torn between being quiet or risking making noise and attracting attention. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore so well they didn’t beat me up or anything but they did almost opened the door and probably gave up and left.

So yeah my parents, especially my mom, are always bringing up the possibility of someone invading our house like it’s something that can happen at any given time. And when they go out I get anxious and just hope my dog won’t bark. Two days ago there was something bothering him and he did bark for a bit and I just froze until I could really do anything again and enjoy the game.

But uhh this text isn’t actually about that night. It’s about what that night reminded me. Something that I always remind myself. Yes it looks like I’m building up to something but well I’m not really I just- well anyway.

I’m always constantly reminding myself that I have always felt completely alone throughout my entire life. (Ok this is was like the main thing of the thing that I was gonna write last night but anyway) Today I recently reblogged a post about uhh toxic people and such? You know the one with the ✌️ tags.

Ok so if you skipped everything because it was too much please start reading from here if ya- wait tbh this isn’t really for anyone it’s just me putting my thoughts out there lmao

So I’ve been going to therapy for a few months now and uhhh like I started being active (as in like uhh sending asks and stuff and stuff) on Tumblr like maybe 3 or 4 months ago? And I’ve been on this hellsite for like 5 years I think. I was like super anxious to make some friends because at the time I really had like one friend and someone else to talk to but didn’t really consider a friend because idk low self esteem I guess and they didn’t really talk to me a lot so well anyway. I saw this post that said something like “if you wanna be friends with me don’t say hi or whatever just say something and I’ll be interested” and that post made me think that tactic would work with anyone.

It didn’t. (Damn that was kinda dramatic and shit lmao) Okay so I have this really annoying thing with being ignored because it makes me anxious and makes me think I’m boring and such. But yeah I tried talking to some people and tbh? I’m gonna start sounding like a bitch now but I felt like I was cutting off my arm to get a nail in return. That’s a terrible analogy but that’s the one I came up with.

I was often left on read or just straight up ignored and I still tried and still got hurt. I even reblogged an ask meme and like I BEGGED for asks when I was like really feeling down and nobody sent me anything. (Like for real I was like “please someone send me an ask I’m not ok” or something) (if you read that and still ignored it honestly fuck you) (yeah that sounds bitch-y and entitled-y but honestly fuck you) (ok I just wanted to let off some steam because that shit wasn’t cool) (but yeah I don’t wish ill on whoever ignored it) (IF someone ignored it) (btw these are like post-text) (sorry) That led to lots of frustration and wastes of time but now I’m a lot more at peace with things and such and now I’m finally gonna get to the point of this big ass text.

Honestly? I got here by myself. I realized many things in just a few months. Mind you I’ve been dealing with anxiety and depression for years now and I can honestly say that I was the only person there for myself. I still feel very much alone but now I feel like it’s everyone else’s loss? I realized that I am funny, creative, nice, smart, I ran out of adjectives but you get the point. Sure, people along the way said those things to me but I never believed anyone. But then, out of spite, months ago I just decided to tell myself that and make myself believe that. Because I spent a long time telling myself the exact opposite. Honestly if you’re getting what I’m saying at this point I applaud you because I’m not gonna proof read any of this sorry it’s just too damn long holy jesus.

OK SO I THINK I NEED TO WRAP THIS UP. Thing is: I’m such a strong person in a way? I mean physically I’m weak af because my diet is not good at all. But ok so I like dropping analogies for no reason so here’s another one:

I was in a deep well, y’know like uhh imagine Samara in The Ring, but instead of being pulled out with a uhhhhhh rope I think? It’s been a long time since I’ve watched that movie but yeah I climbed miles and miles by myself. Sure, some bricks were there for me to honestly I lost myself in my own analog rip.

tl:dr: I’m an awesome person who deserves a lot more than I get and really should learn how to write shorter texts. I hope I achieve my really old dead broken dream in the future. Because this guy here deserves it. (I’m the guy if you didn’t- well it sounds condescending I’m sorry but I just wanna be clear here)

tbh y’all should try confidence, it helps

(ok I’m not really confident about myself but being fake confident helps me get more confident? pls shoot me for this last sentence)

[sharethisgemwithme]

“Dewey Wins” instant reaction

It's about damn time.

Steven's back and, well, who's to say where we go from here?

PREVIOUSLY ON STEVEN UNIVERSE: A bunch of humans were abducted by Aquamarine and Topaz, the last of them Connie. As they attempted to find Greg ("mydad"), Steven instead gave himself up as diamond-killer Rose Quartz, and was taken to Homeworld. Lars accidentally tagged along. The two escaped and were found by an assortment of off-color Homeworld gems, but an attack resulted in Lars's brief death. Steven brought him back to life as a Lion-like pink being with wormhole hair, which he was able to use to get home. And now...

Tonight: "Dewey Wins". Right. I have nothing against townie episodes, and I understand the need to go back-and-forth with the heavy stuff, but this is a bit awkward of a followup. Potentially. Somewhere in this batch of six episodes, we're definitely making more progress on the gems telling us stuff, but this episode seems to be packed enough, that I don't know if it will fit here.

My predictions: First of all, disclaimer. I've seen the commercials, and the NYCC preview (which is as far as I know, the first two minutes), so I know Connie's sullen and Steven is unjustifiably smug (seriously, having just watched Wanted again, he is in tears for large portions, but I guess he found time in the last five months to once again convince himself he's just too tough to cry). I also sorta saw the episode titles, but I didn't really pay attention to them, or note their order (and I did my best to avoid the synopses of future episodes). So my predictions are colored by all that, but... If this is not a "Dewey Defeats Truman" joke, I am seriously baffled by the choice of episode title. So, that means that Nanefua is gonna become the new mayor by the end of the episode. Insert joke about an old person with a history of harassment winning an election in a stunning upset. As to the Connie plot, I think there will be a further conversation either about or with Connie, but I do think that Connie being upset with Steven for his actions will continue for a little longer. What he did was reckless, and for him to not even reflect on how he hurt those around him is cold and, frankly, a bit out-of-character.

All this intro is long, and for the benefit of those on mobile who can’t blacklist, the rest is below a cut.

All that out of the way, time to watch the episode! I'm watching via on-demand, and will start the clock with "We!" As always, first time I'm watching straight through with no pauses or rewinds.

[pre-start] I do notice the new episodes are marked as TV-G rather than TV-PG. Don't know if that means anything (or is a mistake). Also, LOL at the pre-show ad being for Match.com.

0:00 - And it's not in HD. Boo, Optimum. 0:20 - Lamar and Jeff for this one. 0:31 - They all look so glum. And they're right too. 0:40 - But Connie is the most pissed of all of them. 0:53 - None of this is stuff that should be said so happily. 1:09 - "But..." 1:18 - Massive missing of the point there, Steven. 1:30 - Regardless of Stevonnie, everyone was willing to work together. 1:44 - "Except for Lars", little bit flippant there, buddy. 2:00 - Didn't seem like a tough decision. 2:10 - Lion disapproves of your shenanigans. 2:22 - Sadie's not happy. Shockingly enough. 2:33 - "Also, he's kinda dead." 2:48 - THAT'S KINDA IMPORTANT TO DO. 3:04 - Here comes a new candidate. 3:28 - What the hell, Steven. This is not more important. 3:45 - This is a weak chant. 3:57 - THIS IS NOT MORE IMPORTANT. 4:05 - WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU GOING TO TALK TO DANTE AND MARTHA? Come on, dude! 4:24 - No! That would not have made things better! 4:40 - Why are you supporting him anyway? 5:06 - Have... you... have you told the parents yet? They're right there. 5:28 - "Everyone is safe." NO. Thanks, Sadie. 5:45 - Way to go, Sadie! 6:02 - OH YOU FUCKING IDIOT. 6:25 - Well deserved tomato to the face. 6:44 - Seriously, why are you supporting him?! What's wrong with Nanefua? 6:58 - Let's remember how well that book worked for Steven. Oh wait, it didn't. 7:20 - Jesus christ, this dude. 7:44 - "Speech-a-palooza". I chuckled. 8:22 - Do you have somewhere you're going with this? 8:40 - OK. And now Nanefua with the killshot? 8:58 - Oh boy, she's gonna blame Steven. 9:13 - "I will point them at Steven" 9:29 - Oh. That was surprisingly... nice. 9:55 - But what will we call Mayor Dewey if he's not Mayor anymore? 10:24 - This is not the thing to invest your energy in, Steven. 10:37 - Oh! You're making progress, without meaning it. Much like "Political Power" 10:54 - Thanks, Dewey. 11:05 - This leaves something to build on.

IMMEDIATE THOUGHTS: So this ending reminds me of "Political Power", obviously. In "Power", Steven makes the connection between Dewey lying to the town to make them feel better, and the Gems lying to Steven to make him feel better. Here, it's the analogy of Steven letting Connie down and... ok I'm not gonna lie, it's been three minutes since I watched the episode, and I can't quite place what the analogue in the Dewey situation was. There's a reason Dewey was able to say "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about", I guess. The other episode this ending reminds me of, right around the same time, is "Full Disclosure". Here, instead of Connie repeatedly calling and being ignored by Steven (the most callous he'd ever been until now), it's Steven trying to call Connie to ask forgiveness, and getting the cold shoulder. And given that he blew off her concerns, and then was flippant as all hell about "Oh hey, the mayoral election I didn't know was happening until just now is more important, can't hang out today", I don't blame her!

Second watch notes:

In the most recent episode of the official podcast, Matt or Ben mentioned how Connie and Lion have had an unspoken connection between them from the beginning, as they specifically brought up them working together to save Steven at the end of "Ocean Gem". That comes back here, as they ride off together without Steven. Does Lion just hang out at her place now?

Steven's most important power has always been reading the emotional temperature of the room. Him being so bad at it in the opening scene is painful.

There have been complaints of late about weak animation, and I think there's merit to those arguments (like the crowd at Nanefua's speech remaining frozen in place for a bit), but I do like the "camera" "focusing" on Steven and then "refocusing" on Connie during the last lines of their conversation.

Kate Micucci putting in a solid performance in this episode. Just want to throw that out there.

I might not have immediately noticed this if GC-13 of The Lunar Sea Spire podcast hadn't mentioned it, but the avatar of Ian JQ being present to cheer on Nanefua (modeled after his grandmother) is amusing.

Given the apparent outrage at Dewey for not doing anything, how is Steven not instantly a pariah when he says "Oh yeah, totally my fault." Does everyone just already dislike Dewey?

By the way, what a rift this must be causing within the Cool Kids. Is Sour Cream being forced to choose sides? Or is even Buck all "yeah I hope he loses"?

The economy of Beach "City" has always been baffling. The notion that the mayor thinks he can hire a new employee at a chain donut shop is an impressive amount of silly.

Ronaldo at the debate on his phone. Clearly typing up another KBCW post.

Nanefua will make a great mayor. She's already got the "emotional-sounding, and absolutely content-free speech" thing down pat.

OK, reaching the end I have now refreshed my memory on the Dewey-Steven analogy. Steven was taking the role of Connie, thinking that he was in a partnership that could do great things together, but the other member just gave up. The reason I forgot the analogy the first time around was because it doesn't make any fuckin' sense for Steven to have this level of devotion to Dewey (compared to Connie's belief in Steven), but that's where we were going with this, I guess.

Credits: No one credited for the generic townspeople, including the red-haired Southern-sounding woman at Dewey's first speech.

[uniformbravo]

bloop heres a post abt my 3-day trip to san diego B)

this was just gonna be a list of highlights but i ended up talking about a lot so it’s more like a Kind Of The Highlights But I Got A Little Carried Away list

it was a 2 hr drive so i put on some tunes & forced everyone in the car to listen to my thousands of anime ops and piano covers it was *fire emoji* (im not on mobile)

at the end jaelin said she couldn’t hear it the whole time rip

made myself carsick looking at mob psycho memes while we looked for a parking spot at the museum for 20 minutes (it was worth it they were good memes)

the museum we went to had a whole gaming thing going on where they just had a shitload of games out for ppl to play & one of them was just dance projected onto like an entire wall basically & i mean i didnt play but it was fun watching my mom try her best 

she played against two of my sisters who both beat her by more than double her score hgdhgksd bye mom

got a nauseating headache in the science museum & took the opportunity to sit down & look at more mob psycho memes for 35 minutes while the advil kicked in

felt better by the time we went to see this fuckin movie about national parks in the us but idk it was like. the whole reason my mom wanted to go to san diego was to see this movie bc they were getting rid of it soon & after seeing it i can see why they’re taking it out kjgkdjgksd like!!! it would’ve been cool if it told u shit about the parks like fauna and flora shit but it had this dumb little narrative abt these three campers traveling to each park & fucking around & i looked over at jaelin at one point & she was asleep & i was like same

im being too hard on it, it was kind of interesting to watch and had some cool visuals but the acting was pretty embarrassing & unnecessary, i wish it would’ve tried to be a documentary instead of entertaining. that’s my Professional Review of this random movie they’re removing forever soon, hope u enjoyed

realized i had more free time at the hotel than i thought i would & v heavily regretted not bringing my tablet to draw aaaaaahhhhh it was ok tho bc i brought my big sketchbook so i just drew in there B)

i’ve been drawing a lot of terukis i think i accidentally discovered a hidden love for him on the midnight shores of the san diego bay

(what i actually discovered is that he’s v easy to project a rly specific part of myself onto hgkdgksdjkgjsdk)

rented bikes to ride by the bay & it was super fun bc i havent ridden a bike in a long time but like. the second half started getting really hard for me & i thought i was just weak shit bc i literally never exercise but then i realized my back tire had gone flat hfdjghsd my legs were..... so sore

also the seat was shaped weird so my ass was sore for the rest of the trip. it’s still sore tbh. i have a bruised ass

went to a model train museum which was pretty cool bc the little towns had little people & jaelin and i were making up stories for them (my favorite recurring joke was pointing out ppl that had fallen over & calling them dead)

after the trains we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to stay a third day to see more museum shit bc why not so we managed to grab a room at a new hotel and #Locked In our decision

on the way to the second hotel we got a flat tire so i was like convinced i was cursed bc wtf it was literally on the same day???

while we waited for the tire repair i got a pink lemonade from taco bell and it was amazing i can’t believe i ever thought piece of shit sprite was worth even looking at over this

ok so i need to talk about the second hotel we stayed at because it was... literally the fanciest hotel i have ever stayed at in my entire 22 year old life

it was a mariott?? but a fuckin Fancy Mariott ok first of all we were on the 19th floor which just..... what the fuck

floor level was the 6th floor, this bitch went underground (though that might have just been the parking garage idk)

the lobby bathroom was like. jesus christ. to flush the toilet u wave ur hand over a sensor??? what’s wrong with just automatic toilets???? why are these toilets so extra????? i couldn’t even get it to work for so long jgkjdkgsd i hate technology

also there were moist towelettes sitting in a neatly folded pile by the sinks like what even. i thought it was paper towels but then it was wet

the lobby also had this fancy-ass bar/lounge where they served starbucks but u had to have a room key to get in i think

in the elevators to get to the rooms you can’t even enter the floor level until you hold your key card against a sensor like what the fuck..... we had to get some strangers to tell us how to do it gjdks i bet if we hadn’t been able to figure it out the elevator wouldve just dropped us 12 floors to our death like Access Denied, Assholes

the room itself was super fucking cramped tho which makes sense like if im gonna be able to afford anything at a place like this u better believe it’s gonna be the size of a damn peanut. it was the fanciest peanut ive ever seen in my life tho

the view was uhh we were directly across from some tall office building so at night u could like see into all the rooms it was kinda cool but also weird

there was a jar of hershey’s kisses on the coffee table when we got there but it was dark chocolate so like get the fuck outta here with that shit how dare you assault Mine Eyes (i ate like 4)

it rly was a tiny room tho and it didnt help that there were 5 of us rip... like there was a main room and a bedroom and a bathroom and already that’s making it sound bigger than it was hgkdjgskd 

but even tho it was small it had a lot like.. there was a kitchenette that was big enough for like 1 person to stand there but it had a fridge/freezer, sink, dishwasher, toaster, microwave, cupboards & coffeemaker like there was so much shit crammed in there, this wasn’t no minimalist living space it was just. a lot crammed into one tiny floor plan

anyway yeah it was really bizarre for me to be in a place like that & i just constantly felt like i didn’t belong there but that was mostly my anxiety lol i really dont like being in fancy places in general idk. it was still kinda fun tho

the natural history museum was cool, they had a bunch of animal skulls & taxidermy which i thought was pretty neat. all their dinosaur stuff was in the basement tho which u had to pay extra to see which like. bye

they did have some cool movies tho, they were like nature documentaries, one on marine biology around baja california and the other on animals of the galapagos & those were pretty neat, way better than that national parks shit we saw at the science center jgkdjkskdkdjg 

ok so this one’s more of a buildup over the 3 days so im gonna give a lil 3-part summary

day 1: we went to panda express for dinner & i had leftovers so i was like “sweet im saving these for when we get home” (bc the hotel had a fridge right)

day 2: got a rly good burger from a vegan place, my brother got the same one but didnt want his second half so i was like “cool more leftovers im gonna have so much good food when we get home this is perfect”

day 3: fucKIGN LEFT BOTH CONTAINERS IN THE FRIDGE ACCIDENTALLY WHEN WE CHECKED OUT HKDJFLSKDG i was literally so good about it the first two days like when we switched hotels i made sure not to forget them and i held onto them & everything & then halfway through the third day i was like “SHIT”

it’s ok tho bc for dinner that 3rd day we did panda again & i got the same thing so i have the same leftovers again hehehehehe

ok i think that’s basically everything & im not just saying that bc it’s 1:45 am and ive been working on this for like an hour and a half at this point.,.,. overall it was pretty fun, i think i liked the bikes & those animal movies the best... also the drive out bc i got to play my music lmfao (i love sharing my music ok)

anyway the end thank u

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

@titanstogetherr

Oh, Peter’s not a dick for leaving the party, he’s a dick for not treating Mary Jane like an equal partner in their relationship. She’s his girlfriend. His decision to leave the party without her directly affects her and she, therefore, deserves a say in it. Or to at least know about it.

A mysterious blackout in a city overflowing with superheroes and cops is not something that was so urgent that he couldn’t have spared ten seconds to stick his head into the party, say, “Hey, Red, I think I’m gonna go take pics of the blackout now. You might want to ask Betty and Ned or Robbie to walk you home.” He has a built-in excuse! J. Jonah Jameson was RIGHT THERE and likely would have ordered him to leave and take pictures anyhow. They could have planned out what they were going to do.

Sure, there were plenty of people she could’ve asked to walk her home….but she had no idea whether or not that was even necessary because Peter didn’t think she was important enough to inform about what was happening. For all she knew, he ducked out to buy a soda and could return any second, in which case she should wait for him. Or he left to take pictures and could maybe take all night, which meant she needed to find her own way home. She didn’t know where he was or what she should do about it because he didn’t discuss it with her and let her have a say in their plans. WHICH IS A DICK MOVE. He was treating her as though she, her well-being, and her feelings did not matter enough to him to do her that basic courtesy, which is precisely the complaint she is making, and she’s right. Simply put, Peter failed to treat her like an equal partner in their relationship – she gets to have a say in decisions that affect her. He cannot unilaterally make them for her.

Being a superhero doesn’t justify treating the people in your life like dirt, absolve you from criticism, or mean you shouldn’t be held accountable for your actions.

Personally, if I went to a party on a date with a significant other—with the understanding that we would leave together too—and they left without talking to me about it, I would be just as livid as MJ. Even if I knew they were a superhero. Just. Let me know what’s going on? It is incredibly fucking rude to ditch your date without so much as a word in pretty much every context I can think of. Including this one. It makes it seem as though you do not give a damn about them or your relationship. It’s disrespectful, and props to Mary Jane for calling Peter out on it and not allowing herself to be treated so carelessly without standing up for herself.

Helping the city is fine. Not letting your girlfriend have a say in decisions that affect her? Less fine.

Separate though tangentially-related issue: I am also in no way a fan of the “I MUST LIE TO PROTECT MY FRAGILE GIRLFRIEND” trope. It’s sexist, patriarchal, and condescending. Mary Jane deserves the right to make an informed decision about dating Peter, a superhero, and all that entails. Including occasionally leaving parties early without her. (Yes, I know it was retconned so that she knew all along, but it doesn’t justify the fact that Peter chose never to tell her, no matter how serious their relationship got, which includes a proposal. Or Gwen, who died without knowing who he was, for that matter.)

Also…please explain to me how magically disappearing from a balcony with no discernible exit in any way helps him hide his secret identity from anyone at that party. Especially since, if MJ and/or anyone else had walked out two seconds earlier, they would have seen him dangling off of that helicopter. How is that preferable to saying goodbye and leaving through the front door like a regular, unsuperpowered person and thus NOT arousing suspicion?

Nope. It was a terrible way of handling the situation any way you look at it, and, again, MJ is right to be angry at his clear lack of respect for her.

P.S. – I was laughing at Harry, who I generally like very much, affectionately for his nosiness. The way those panels CLEARLY want you to do. They are setting it up to be funny, which is pretty damn obvious???? Harry tends to just generally be pretty nosy? It’s endearing most of the time???

Don’t you love it when someone is too cowardly to continue a conversation so they block you?

Yeah no.

 As I explained up top, there was an emergency and a small window of opportunity for him to act upon it.

 Emergency which could result in people getting hurt>Leaving a party without telling your boyfriend/girlfriend.

 Does MJ deserve a say in it? Yeah...except again...emergency.

 I mean honestly if like a police officer was at a party across the street from where a crime was in the middle of being comittied where someone was going to be hurt is would they be a dick for leaving their boyfriend/girlfriend without a word to resolve the situation?

 No. Like...not even a little bit.

 Sorry, there are bigger priorities at play here.

 And yeah actually it is super duper urgent for him to have dropped everything and leave right there. Putting aside how every minute people could be getting hurt (and he’d have to be finding MJ amidst the party crowd anyway in the dark) he needed to get onto the copter ASAP as it was flying over head. His window of opportunity was small.

 Let’s also put aside how in every super hero series basically the wider shared universe gets ignored unless the writer wants to acknowledge it meaning that no this and other books don’t operate on the basis of ‘this isn’t urgent because the Avengers exist so why should I worry’, the cops have a proven track record of being useless when it comes to super villains which the black out obviously was the work of. It wasn’t a random black out of one area, it was a systematic series, obviously deliberate. The cops on the ground (who were probably going to be simultaneously struggling in the darkness and have their hands full of whoever was taking advantage of the situation) could never have deduced the culprit and the police chopper which could’ve surveyed the situation couldn’t have mobilized action as quickly as Spider-Man could have. And even if they could have they would’ve been in immense danger because yeah, it was a full on super villain the average officer wouldn’t be able to handle.

 All this plus how was he supposed to make the excuse that he was going to get pictures when he literally didn’t have his camera? And everyone saw that he didn’t have it.

  As for what MJ thought, in context she could probably have deduced that he’d gone off to take pictures, but in hindsight she knew he’d gone off to be Spider-Man. Which doesn’t means he isn’t entitled to be mad, but she probably knew enough that she’d have to go home with someone sans Peter. It’s not even like this is the first time he’s done this, she knows he has to disappear at a drop of a hat. Even ignoring that she could just go home with somebody else, she didn’t need t wait for him, she knows he can get home by himself.

  But again...that’s really quite trivial next to the supervillain causing massive powercuts which endangers whole blocks worth of people.

 It’s not that her feelings objectively or from Peter’s POV don’t matter. It’s just that Jesus Christ they 100% do not matter in the face of this large scale pressing problem in which there is a massive danger to people’s lives.

  Like....perspective!

 She’s got a right to be angry, but he didn’t ACTUALLY do anything morally reprehensible. I can even understand why she was mad post Parallel Lives. But again...he was right.

 Trying to stop a supervillain who’s causing blackouts which are endangering shittons of people ASAP>Common Courtesy

 Emergencies>Common Courtesy

 He wasn’t making a decision for her (a ridiculous over extrapolation). He wasn’t treating her like dirt. He was addressing an urgent emergency which was by several magnitudes more important.

 If he really was just a photographer and just bounced without telling her then yeah, he would be an asshole. He wasn’t though, there was much more at stake than that.

 If you knew that your partner was a superhero and that they bounced to handle an obviously immediate emergency where people’s lives were at risk and you were livid over it then that’s more a dick move on your part than theirs. Innocent lives>your relationship.

 Letting you know what’s going on is one thing when there is time to spare and that’s easy, under these conditions it wasn’t. He was concerned about raising suspicions, he had a great avenue for getting to and assessing the crisis and thereby resolving it faster in order to help people. So again no, Peter was not being rude, or a dick. He was just trying to avoid people getting hurt. What an asshole I guess.

  In context yeah to MJ it might have seemed like he didn’t value her or the relationship, but again, we know int he issue, from past issues, and in hindsight that that’s blatantly not true. It was a great character moment for her and the story nevertheless, but at face value she isn’t actually morally justified because again we know what Peter was doing and why he was doing it.

 “Helping the city is fine. Not letting your girlfriend have a say in decisions that affect her? Less fine.”

  Again the safety of the city>MJ getting home. Also again, he wasn’t preventing her from having a decision. He was responding to an emergency whilst trying to protect his identity, that thing that’s endangered people when it’s gotten out.

  “Separate though tangentially-related issue: I am also in no way a fan of the “I MUST LIE TO PROTECT MY FRAGILE GIRLFRIEND” trope. It’s sexist, patriarchal, and condescending.”

  Then it’s a good thing that was absolutely not present in any way shape or form in this story then wasn’t it.

 Peter wasn’t lying to protect his fragile girlfriend. He was trying to protect his identity so that his life and the lives of ALL those cloe to him would not become endangered.

 Again...what a dick. What a dick move from the guy who was terrorized by three different lunatics who knew his secret and who killed someone he loved, nearly killed other people he loved, and who nearly mentally broke him.

 Also question. Was it sexist, patriarchal, condescending and other year one sociology glossary terms when Spider-Girl, Wonder Woman or female superheroes in general ever did the exact same thing?

  “Mary Jane deserves the right to make an informed decision about dating Peter, a superhero, and all that entails.”

  Not really.

  By this logic everyone of Peter’s friends should have the right to know who he is.

 But the more people who know his secret the less secret it is and thereby the more chance of it getting out and hurting people there are.

 Not to mention he has no idea if they are trustworthy or not, or how willing they are to bear the burden of knowledge.

 If he just comes out and tells Mary Jane and she can’t handle it, or if she for whatever reason reveals it Peter’s life and Aunt May’s life are going to be destroyed. Whilst maybe he doesn’t think this of Mary Jane specifically, anyone he confides in may well fall out with him (even more likely in romantic relationships compared to friendships) and thereby use that knowledge against him in some way. Which again has already happened with immensely bad results.

 Thus far in his life Peter has had three girlfriends.

 Betty, Gwen and MJ.

 Betty was bonkers and whilst he wasn’t wholesale innocent, really mistreated him and became incredibly upset at the mere mention of Spider-Man when he tried to reveal his identity to her.

 Gwen not only hated Spider-Man, but worse reacted hysterically and believed the worst fo him when he initially revealed the truth to her in ASM #87.

 MJ and Harry similarly took that news very, very badly and in MJ’s case, Peter has only just seen her change from the carefree party girl she once was into someone who’s still like that but more serious.

 Under these circumstances why would Peter or anybody, male or female, be simply upfront with the single most intimate part of themselves which amounts to literal life or death?

 They wouldn’t. And if they were with everyone they dated, suddenly there are a shitton of security risks out there.

 I’m not saying anybody he is with doesn’t deserve to know eventually at some point. But Peter and Mary Jane have been together for less than a year  at the point of this story. They are serious, they are in love, they are going steady, but neither of them are certain about where things are going, or will wind up and they have only recently gotten to that level after a HUGE emotional crisis that’s rocked them (Gwen’s return).

 Basically this is a straight choice between telling one person they might be in danger (even though MJ probably knows that, Peter’s aunt was kidnapped because he happened to snap Spidey photos) or risking everyone DEFINITLY being in danger.

 In relationships there are degrees of intimacy and degrees of trust (usually built up over time). For example it’s a bad idea to propose marriage unless you are relatively certain about your future with your partner and their own response. Peter’s identity is a much larger and much more dangerous thing than a mere proposal. He shouldn’t tell anyone his secret unless he’s as confidant as possible that they would be able to handle it and keep it safe, even if things don’t work out between them. He’s not there with MJ at this point.

 Hell the one time he DOES reveal his secret to his girlfriend it totally backfires. Felicia didn’t like learning the truth and she was cavalier with it too. He was just lucky she cared enough about him/hated Foreigner enough that she didn’t spill the beans when she had her mad on for him. Had she done that his life would have been over and so would Aunt May’s

 Furthermore divulging the secret is a huge deal for the person hearing it. It’s essentially burdening them with a massive and dangerous responsibility they didn’t ask for and maybe didn’t want. See Miles Morales for proof of this

SPOILERS he does tell his girlfriend...and she totally betrays him...to HYDRA...

But I guess that was better than him being ‘sexist and patriarchal’. 

“Including occasionally leaving parties early without her. (Yes, I know it was retconned so that she knew all along, but it doesn’t justify the fact that Peter chose never to tell her, no matter how serious their relationship got, which includes a proposal. Or Gwen, who died without knowing who he was, for that matter.)”

 See above. Peter was honestly proposing to her the first time around more out of other factors in his life. That proposal was him being a naive moron, though he did love her. He was likely going to tell her if she said yes.

 With Gwen his not telling her was again a forgivable mistake of youth. He was dumb kid at the point he wanted to marry her and seriously believed he could hide it from her.

 However he was in a catch 22 situation. He knew she’d reject him if she knew the truth because of ASM #87, and he knew she hated his alter ego. But at the same time he was in love with her and was a kid. Would he have committed to the lie had she lived or would he have broken it off or else tried to tell her the truth?

 We’ll never really know although it’s pretty fucking obvious they were never going to last.

 His initial solution though in ASM #100 was to just get rid of his powers altogether. Again, stupid and naive but he was a kid.

 Was it immoral of him to have married her without divulging the truth? Yes.

 Was it immoral of him to have not told her during their relationship as it was? Not really.

 Again he was a kid in a catch 22 situation where he was serious about Gwen (the first person he was ever serious about) but knew she’d reject him. Really from ASm #87 or her Dad’s death onwards he was just treading water trying to figure out what to do.

 Also because of the bullshtit Clone Conspiracy storyline Gwen actually did die knowing Peter was Spider-Man. But if we want to take all retcons into account Gwen was straight up pregnant with the kids of Peter’s best friend’s Dad...and expected him to raise them. She lied about that throughout their relationship sooooooooo....

     “Also…please explain to me how magically disappearing from a balcony with no discernible exit in any way helps him hide his secret identity from anyone at that party. Especially since, if MJ and/or anyone else had walked out two seconds earlier, they would have seen him dangling off of that helicopter. How is that preferable to saying goodbye and leaving through the front door like a regular, unsuperpowered person and thus NOT arousing suspicion?”

  a)     It was raining, at night time and in the midst of a blackout so how WOULD they have seen him hanging from the helicopter?

b)     The Spider Sense probably would’ve helped him avoid prying eyes

c)     The chopper probably was moving fast.

d)     In the blackout he probably figured people would presume he just slipped out without them seeing which is what MJ obviously did.

e)     Nobody actually saw him on the balcony. Robbie just suggested MJ try there as he saw Peter heading towards it

f)      Drawing attention to the fact that you are leaving to take pictures at a party full of investigative journalists, one of which you suspect already has an idea of your identity, the other being the guy who’s literally created supervillains to try and kill you, and all when you obviously don’t have a camera (and therefore cannot deliver any photos), is a comparatively larger security risk than just leaving and letting people presume what they will whilst they’re distracted by other stuff going on

g)     The chopper provided him a great way to get up high and assess the situation whilst also going direct to the action as they might have more information that he does. He knows the blackouts are systematic so being able to see the pattern from a birds eye view means he has a better chance of figuring out where they will strike next and how to stop it and end the desperate situation. If he chose to exit through the party and make explanations he’d lose his window of opportunity to catch up the chopper, especially given the pitch darkness.

  “Nope. It was a terrible way of handling the situation any way you look at it, and, again, MJ is right to be angry at his clear lack of respect for her.”

 Nope, it was the viable option for handling the situation that was itself not ideal.

 Nope he didn’t disrespect her. Just did what was necessary.

 Yes though she has a right to be angry, I never said otherwise, my contention as with YOUR assessment of HIM.

 Is it not charming how half the Spider-Man fanbase seems to shit on Mary Jane because they don’t bother trying to empathize with her and see things from her POV, whilst the other half shit on Peter for the same reasons.

 “P.S. – I was laughing at Harry, who I generally like very much, affectionately for his nosiness. The way those panels CLEARLY want you to do. They are setting it up to be funny, which is pretty damn obvious???? Harry tends to just generally be pretty nosy? It’s endearing most of the time???”

 Harry was drugged up because he’d just come out of the hospital.

I’m not saying Peter doing what he did doesn’t suck for Mary Jane. 

I’m saying Peter did what he did for the greater good which unfortunately screwed MJ over in an entirely non-lasting way which was ultimately more of an inconvenience for her and did more damage emotionally. Which he later tried to make amends for.

Peter obviously does respect Mary Jane as his girlfriend, but this was like so many things in his life an emergency.

[juhaku-inspired]

1, 2, 5, 7, 11, 12, 14, 20, 21, 23, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 32, 34, 35, 36, 39, 41, 44, 45, 47, 48, and 50 for the mm ask meme lololol~

jesus christ mika xD but thank you~

under a read-more for obvious reasons:

1- Favorite Character

Zen of course~

2. Favorite route

Seven’s route !!

5. Favorite “Cheritz” voice

probably Saeran’s cause it doesn’t sound like what you’d expect from him and I love it

7. Favorite chat emoji

and

11. Favorite party guest

ohh boy.... Maybe Longcat? or the Hackers Chasing Hackers guy cause it was fun completing the emails for them xD

12. Favorite chat

oh god there are so many how do you choose?? idk what one it was but the one where Zen’s saying how he doesn’t care what MC looks like cause “you’re already snug in my heart.” and he’s just being really sappy and I love him. Yoosung was there too. I have pics on my tablet but it’s dead rn so rip

14. Favorite CG

All of Zen’s Probably these:

*insert Seven’s heart emoji again*

20. Favorite ship (platonic/romantic)

...Zen x MC... YooRan is nice too. And SevenZen. I also kinda like Zen x MC x Seven but idk if that’s an actual ship haha  

21. Favorite character interaction with each other

Ahh in...Seven’s route? when Yoosung’s over Zen’s place and drunk af and Zen calls MC and is talking and calls them princess and Yoosung’s like “but Seven has the princess~~~~” it broke my heart but I also just love how Zen and Yoosung interact?? and Zen and Jaehee in Jaehee’s route. I love the mutual support gahhh~

23. Best character development

JUMIN HAN. Definitely. 

26. Best character design

Hmm probably Seven or Saeran... Saeran’s design is v interesting and edgy

27. Character who left the biggest impression on you

Zen~ tbh the first time I played it at the beginning I didn’t like him and thought he’d just be that narcissistic asshole character and I didn’t like how he picked on Yoosung about video games so much. but now I love him and yes he’s great.

28. Character you’d want to be BFFs with

Jaehee!! and Yoosung. I have a lot in common with Yoosung, I think we’d get along well.

29. Character you romantically ship yourself with

...Zen... just to point out....don’t think/play the game as my smol 16 y/o self I imagine me as like an adult, like 25, post top,...maybe not a best selling author but well off...ha....

30. Most relatable character

Yoosung~ for me at least. 

32. Funniest character

Seven ofc. And Jumin tbh, his sense of humor is hilarious.

34. First impression of the game

I had no idea how the mechanics worked and it’s not like I thought it was super realistic and adapted to every single choice you made but I didn’t understand routes and all that so I guess I thought it was more of an AI than it is....? I’m not sure what I mean but

35. First impression for each character

Yoosung- poor bby I too like playing video games 24/7 its ok I support you (hence why I got his route first xD)

Zen- asshole why are u so mean to Yoosung ur so narcissistic my g o d shut up

Jaehee- I’m not sure I remember?? She doesn’t trust you in the beginning ik so maybe I was a lil on edge cause of that. though I prob understood why she was cautious.

Jumin- I prob thought he was an uptight formal boss man. which he is. and yet he’s so much more than that that the same time...

Seven- the comic relief boi. haha, I don’t remember but probably something like that.

Rika- wow what a tragic story poor girl :c she deserved better. ...ha... It also made me feel weird about being in her apartment. like...living in a dead person’s house is kinda weird....

V- pOOR WIDOW WHAT A POOR SOUL PROTECT HIM THIS IS SO TRAGIC. I also thought it was really weird that people wanted a V route and romance w/ V cause??? he’s a mourning widow?? (do you even call males widows btw?) he’s not ready for another relationship his true love just fucking died?? What a wild time... 

Unknown- weirdo bad guy villain. I’m not sure what I thought lmao. 

36. First character you fell for

Hmmm good question?? Probably Seven, tbh?? I mean maybe more so Yoosung cause he was my first route but I remember in Yoo’s route at the party, seeing Seven so fucking sad and sorry broke my heart so much. fuck I love him

39. How did you find out about this game? What made you decide to download it? 

Tumblr was freaking out over it for a while. I didn’t get it right away but once it became all I saw on my dash I was like ‘alright I’ll try it ffs’ and the rest is history, kids. 

41. Have you completed all the routes and unlocked the secret endings?

I have~ I’ve gotten all the good endings and done the secret endings. I’ve also done a few of the normal endings (Seven’s, Zen’s, and Yoosung’s, I think) and I have very few of the bad end CGs cause it hurts me too much to try and get them, no matter what character it is haha.

44. How dedicated are you to this game? Do you set alarms and try to get 100% for each day etc? 

oh god there was a time where I set alarms for 2 or 4 AM in order to not miss chats. fuckin insane. I also used to write down all the chat times and checked the app every 2 hours once I learned the pattern of chat rooms. I’ve calmed down a lot now, and since I still have a bunch of HG from the VIP pack (and buying google play cards- yikes) I just pay for chats I miss. Which are usually only the ones from midnight-9~ish AM while I’m asleep xD. I’m still diligent in checking it every 2~ish hours during the day haha...

45. Do you play the game blindly or follow walkthroughs?

I played blindly until I got Seven’s day 10 bad ending which was my first bad end (I went through Yoo’s and Zen’s routes flawlessly??) and I panicked and used a walkthrough. I also used walkthroughs to get Jaehee and Jumin’s routes but played theirs blind unless I really needed help. Waitin’ on walkthroughs for DLCs so I can get the got damn CGs I need cause I cAN’T GET SAERAN’S ROUTE IN THE XMAS DLC FOR SOME STUPID REASON. 

47. Moments that made you laugh out loud?

So many. Mostly Jumin’s and Seven’s jokes :3

48. Ever cried or shed a tear while playing?

I already cry easy but the waterworks were constantly flowing because of this fuckin game. god damn. 

50. How has this game affected you overall? Do you regret playing it?

This game’s definitely changed my life for the better. I don’t regret playing it at all. It’s really helped me through a lot of things and probably affects me daily. If I’m sad I’ll look up at the sky cause I remember that one phone call where Seven says looking at the sky makes him feel better. That flower Zen sent that he says to look at when you feel anxious is something I’m seriously considering making my first tattoo. I fuckin named a floppy disk squishable (stuffed animal thing) Saeyoung and I have a build-a-bear Eevee I named Saeran. Nevermind how Zen’s route/ his character in general (and seven too tbh!!) have helped me with my body image and general self-love. Weird to rely on a mobile otome app for your mental health but, hey, whatever works right?

[risingphoenix761]

Hi there! Nice to see you! So, I wrote this story as a prequel to my much longer Boondock Saints story and I usually post on FanFiction, but I thought why not here as well? Here, a younger Connor and Murphy MacManus meet my OC Renata Malone, and if there are any takers, I’ll be posting the longer story soon. This, however, is in three parts, so let’s get cracking! Expect strong language, shenanigans, and intense flirting…to get the ball rolling, that is. ;) I also haven’t mastered italics on mobile yet, so bear with me.

SUMMARY: A locked door, a broken elevator, and a night they’ll barely remember…

***

 Murphy was dreaming of Suzanne Somers and watermelon when a wailing siren pierced his alcohol-induced coma like a power drill through his skull. He sat upright with a start, cursing bitterly at the headache aggravated by the motion, then opened his eyes with a loud groan.

The sunlight filling the loft was painfully bright… Well, that made no fucking sense. How could there be sirens inside the loft? It wailed again, and this time he understood. The phone was ringing.

It’s too fucking early for this shit…

He leaned off the edge of his bed to pick the handset up off the floor-no, wait, he wasn’t on his bed, he was on Connor’s. He looked across the room and saw his twin passed out on their much-abused couch, head propped at an uncomfortable angle against the arm rest and his jeans laying discarded on the floor just inside the door. His mouth hung open and Murphy smirked to notice how he drooled all over the couch.

The phone rang and he picked it up and answered it. “Hello?”

“Rise an’ shine, ye little bastards!”

Murphy jerked the phone away from his ear with a startled outburst, the shout coming over the line as deafening as it was painful. He should have seen it coming; it was Saturday morning, and time for Ma’s wakeup call. Annabelle MacManus knew good and fucking well her boys had gone out and gotten scuttered on Friday night, and a hung-over morning after was as good a time as any to harass them.

“Jesus, Ma,” Murphy said, whining as he cautiously spoke into the receiver. “Ye get louder every fuckin week.”

“Lord’s name, boyo,” she told him, cackling at his complaining. “Which of ye pissants am I talkin to?”

“It’s Murph…again.”

She laughed even harder. Under ordinary circumstances, Murphy slept like a log and Connor woke up at the drop of a hat, but after a night of drinking it was Murphy who could be easily roused, usually with a splitting headache, and Connor who could sleep through the Tribulation and be none the wiser. The past three weeks in a row, it was Murphy who answered the phone to their mother��s merry torment. Here you go, Murph. Here’s the shit end of the stick…and it’s got your name on it! “What’s that brother a yers doin?”

“Still out cold, lazy fuck.” Murphy picked up one of his boots and heaved it in the direction of the couch, where it connected with Connor’s head with a satisfying thud. He woke with a hiss of pain. “Ow, fuck…”

“He’s awake now, Ma.”

Connor sat up, rubbing his head and wiping the drool from his mouth. “Ye’re a right fuckin asshole, Murphy.”

Murphy shot him the bird.

“Ye boys didn’t get inta any trouble last night, did ye?” Annabelle demanded.

“No, Ma,” Murphy replied warily. Three thousand miles and an entire fucking ocean lay between them, but she would still chew their asses if they stepped out of line.

“Ye best not lie ta me, Murph,” she warned him. There was a pause, an inhale and an exhale, and he could picture her on the other end of the line with a half-smoked cigarette in hand. “I’ll find out if ye are, ye know.”

“Well, now ye mention it,” he said slowly, speaking as if reluctant to confess but casting a devious look at his twin, “I mighta seen Connor gettin a blow job from a hooker in the back room a the bar…”

“That’s a fuckin lie!” Connor burst out, suddenly alert. He leaped at Murphy, trying to wrestle the phone away from him. “For Christ’s fuckin sake, Ma, don’t listen ta that shit!” he yelled. “He’s lyin his fuckin ass off!”

“Murph, give him a good smack for blasphemy,” Annabelle instructed.

Murphy reached up and cuffed Connor over the head. “Lord’s name, eejit.”

“Now put him on for me.”

He handed Connor the phone; Connor held it to his ear, listening patiently, then boxed Murphy’s ears. “That’s for lyin, dumbshite.”

Murphy shoved him away, massaging his ear, and he got to his feet, still on the phone. “No, Ma, I promise, no hookers…aye, we were at Doc’s place…we didn’t get inta anythin ta go to confession for…”

“Really?” Murphy asked loudly. “Ye seen yer neck lately?” It was impossible to miss the giant hickey stark and bold on Connor’s golden skin, and in an extra dose of irony, it was situated perfectly beside his tattoo of the Virgin Mary.

Connor gave him an irritated look. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s talkin about, Ma,” he said, bending down to pick something off the floor beside Murphy’s bed. “Where’d ye get this, Murph?” he inquired. “Victoria’s Secret?” He flung a satin, flesh-colored bra at him, smacking him in the face. Murphy batted it aside and snatched up his t-shirt from where he had thrown in the night before. Connor tapped him on the head with the handset and held it out to him. “For you, little brother.”

Murphy took the phone with a scowl. “Yeah, Ma?”

“If I hear ye’ve been pickin up any low-down, no-account hussies in bars-”

“Ma, I haven’t-”

“I won’t have any grandbabbies from any one night stands, ye got me?’

“For fuck’s sake, Ma-”

“If ye catch anything an’ yer cock falls off, ye got no one but yerself ta blame!”

Murphy glared at Connor, who stood watching with a shit-eating grin on his face, and gave up trying to interrupt her. He could hear the smile in her voice and knew how much she was enjoying taking the piss out of him.

She finally ran out of steam and there was another exhale, followed by, “So what did ye boys do last night?”

Murphy opened his mouth to answer, then paused as his memory drew a blank. Garbled images of the night before flashed through his head, all of them vaguely disconnected and none of them making much sense. He glanced over at Connor, eyebrows raised in a look that said, What did we do last night?

Connor’s brow furrowed. That’s a damn good question.

**

“Would ye fuckin hurry it up?” Connor demanded as Murphy leaned down to tie his boots. It was Friday night, their slog at Noland’s Meatpacking was over for the weekend, and their favorite bar stools were waiting for them at McGinty’s-assuming Murphy ever got his ass in gear.

“Don’t get yer panties in a wad,” he shot back. “I’ll be ready when I’m fuckin ready.” He finished with his boots and straightened up, smoothing his hair flat. The cowlick at the back of his head had never particularly bothered him before, but it had recently become the bane of his existence. “There’s nothin stickin up, is there?” he asked.

“The only thing stickin up’s in yer jeans, Murph,” Connor teased. “Might as well give it up, ye’ve never gotten anywhere with Maggie before. Besides,” he added, running a hand through his light hair with a smirk, “ye know she prefers blondes.”

Murphy took a swing at him but he dodged it easily, still smiling. The dark-haired twin had been squirrelly ever since Doc’s niece came home from college for the summer and started helping out at the bar, and needling him about his crush hadn’t yet lost its novelty. “C'mon, loverboy, let’s get movin.”

They left the apartment, donning their rosaries on the way out and tucking them under their shirts as they went. They bypassed the elevator and made for the stairs; the fucking thing was still out of service and until enough of the tenants complained loudly enough, the chap that owned the building wasn’t likely to have it fixed. Considering the property was industrial, and had been converted and rented out illegally, it was going to take a lot of complaints before any improvements were made.

The MacManuses had been living in their fifth-floor loft for about a year, and while it was still a shit hole it was definitely a step up from their last digs, and their neighbors a lot easier to get along with. They passed old Mrs. Cavanaugh on the fourth floor and exchanged greetings with Bobby Fitzpatrick on his way out to walk his dog. As they neared the landing on the third floor, however, they ran across an unfamiliar face.

There was a young woman outside the Reids’ place, hammering insistently on the door. A quick assessment from the distance revealed shoulder-length brown hair and an ass that could stop traffic, and as they got closer the expression in her gray eyes became apparent, caught somewhere between exasperation and annoyance.

“Grace!” she called, pounding on the door again. “I’m locked out, open up!” “It’s no use, sweetheart,” Connor told her. “Grace works the night shift on Fridays. She won’t be back ‘til after dawn.”

“Shit,” she burst out, her fist dropping to her side. “Now what?”

“Jimmy oughta be in, shouldn’t he?” Murphy asked.

“No, his mother had a stroke, so he’s staying with her at the hospital the next few days,” she answered.

“Ah, I see…are ye family?”

“Kinda. Jimmy is my boyfriend’s cousin.” She heaved a sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow. Summer had hit Boston with a vengeance and while it was marginally cooler inside the apartments themselves, with window unit air conditioning and a cold drink or two, it was sweltering in the hallways. “Well, shit…”

“Don’t ye have a spare key?” Connor asked.

“Sure don’t,” she said. “I guess I’ll just have to head out and kill some time until Grace gets back.”

“Ye do know ye’re in Southie, don’t ye? Not exactly the best a neighborhoods ta be walkin alone after dark.” He looked her up and down, trying not to be too obvious about it. She had one hell of a body, not just a nice backside, and dressed as she was in a tight black tank top and short denim skirt, she was sure to attract trouble.

The news seemed to aggravate her further. She groaned and leaned against the door, sliding down the length of it to sit on the floor. She drew a brand new pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit up, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes on the exhale.

Connor paused thoughtfully, then asked, “Ye wanna join us for a drink, since ye got nothin else ta do?”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What?” she asked.

“What?” Murphy repeated.

“We’re headin out anyway,” Connor went on. “It sure as fuck beats sittin out in the hallway all night.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. If you already have plans…”

“Ye don’t mind, do ye, Murph?”

Murphy copied the girl’s shrug. “It’s fine with me.” If she held Connor’s attention all night the way she already seemed to be doing, he wouldn’t have to put up with so much shit about Maggie.

Connor stepped closer, hand extended to help her to her feet while taking in the view down the front of her tank top. “Don’t think we’ve seen ye around before,” he said.

“I have,” Murphy told him; he’d crossed paths with her in various stages of intoxication a few times in the building. Small wonder she would agree to a drink.

Connor shot him a look; And you never said a word? He helped her stand, surreptitiously pulling her closer in the process. “The name’s Connor,” he told her, speaking an octave deeper than usual and putting a subtle emphasis on his accent. Murphy let out a snort - well, maybe not that subtle. “When did ye move in?”

“I haven’t,” she said. “My boyfriend and I just got into town a few weeks ago, and we’re staying with his relatives until we get settled.” She cocked her head to one side. “And why do you want to know?”

“It’s a small building, an’ I’m tryin ta figure out how I’ve only just seen ye for the first time.”

Murphy barely kept from rolling his eyes. “Can we get fuckin goin, please? Ye were quick enough ta jump my shit five minutes ago for movin too slow ta suit ye.”

“Don’t mind me little brother,” Connor told the girl, leaning in conspiratorially. “He tends ta get cranky when the weather’s hot.”

A slow grin spread across her face. “But not you?”

“Nah,” he replied casually, fixing her with the blue-eyed stare women seemed to find irresistible. “I like it hot.”

Murphy swatted him on the back of the head. “Little, my ass, ye retard. First thing ye need ta know about me dear brother,” he said to the girl, “he’s full a hot air an’ horse shit, an’ he tends ta do shit arseways. Here he is, tryin ta go out an’ get ye tossed, an’ he hasn’t even asked ye for yer name.”

Connor had the grace to look sheepish.

She took another drag off her cigarette. “I’m Renata.”

“Nice ta meet ye, Renata. I’m Murphy, this is Connor, an’ if he tries ta convince ye he’s older'n me, ye should remember he’s full a hot air an’ horse shit.”

“Twins, ye see,” Connor explained. “Murph’s a little sensitive about the age thing.”

Renata smiled. “So you’re literally, Irish twins.”

“Aye. Funny how that worked out, innit?”

She giggled. “I love your accent.”

“Aw, stop it, I’m blushin. Shall we head out?”

She nodded, finishing her smoke and grinding it under the toe of her sneaker. “Where are we going?”

**

It was still early, so most of the crowd at McGinty’s were regular customers. Cigarette smoke hung heavy in the barroom and under the clatter of glass and the clamor of a dozen voices, the radio behind the bar was discernible, tuned into a classic rock station. It was loud and lively, a good place to unwind after a long week.

Connor and Murphy were met with boisterous cheering the instant they walked through the door. Coworkers and drinking mates hailed them as they passed, slapping them on the back and trading greetings and insults with equal good humor. Renata stuck close, turning her fair share of heads as they made their way to the bar, where a man with scruffy hair sat drinking alone.

He turned at a word from Murphy and got to his feet, grinning widely. “It’s about fuckin time you showed up!” he burst out, pulling each of the brothers into a bear hug. “Hey, Fuck-Ass!” he called to the old man behind the bar. “Guess who just walked in!”

The old man walked over, white hair combed neatly and eyes twitching behind thick glasses. “Look what the c-c-cat brought back from the dead,” he said, smiling. “What are ye b-b-boys startin with?”

“Three pints a black stuff, Doc,” Connor replied, pulling up a barstool. “C'mere, sweetheart,” he told Renata, gesturing to the vacant stool on his left. “I saved ye a seat.”

“She’s got a boyfriend, idiot,” Murphy reminded him in Gaelic, taking the seat two stools to his brother’s right and leaving a spot in the middle for their scruffy-haired friend.

“Do you see him anywhere around here?” Connor shot back, and Murphy rolled his eyes.

Doc set three glasses of Guinness on the bar and Connor slid one over to Renata before raising his own in salute. “Slainté,” he toasted, and they drank.

“What, don’t I even get an introduction?” the scruffy man demanded, giving Connor a shove in the shoulder and causing him to spill some of the beer.

“Ah, fuck, Roc, ye’re wastin good shit!”

“Who’s your new friend, numb nuts?”

“Christ…Roc, this is Renata. Renata, our friend Rocco, an’ yes, he’s as thick as he looks.”

“How’s it going?” Rocco asked, reaching in front of Connor to shake her hand and grinning cheerfully.

“Say, Doc, is Maggie around anywhere?” Murphy asked from down the bar.

“Aye,” the old man replied. “B-b-been runnin round all fuckin night, like hell f-f-f - fuck! Ass! - fuckin froze over.”

Murphy glanced around the bar, guessing Doc must have meant “a bat out of hell” when he caught sight of a familiar figure speeding around the patrons, a tray of drinks balanced on one hand and a look of cool concentration on her face.

“Looks like she’s too busy ta talk, Murph,” Connor teased.

“Shut yer fuckin mouth,” Murphy told him, flushing slightly.

“You gotta talk to her sometime, Murph,” Rocco encouraged, lighting a cigarette. “Quit stalking her, for fuck’s sake.”

“Lay off, Roc, I’ll talk ta her when I fuckin feel like it.”

“I could c-c-c-” Doc began, “c-c-c- oh fuck it. Maggie!” he shouted over the noise in the bar. “C'mere!”

“Doc, what the fuck’re ye-”

The young woman walked over, a rather pretty young woman with long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. “Yeah, Doc?” she asked.

“Doc’s niece,” Connor explained to Renata, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Murph’s had a soft spot for her for weeks.”

“Yeah,” Rocco agreed, “and-”

“A hard one?” Renata suggested.

He burst out laughing and gave Connor a slap on the back. “Where the fuck did you pick this one up?”

Murphy suddenly busied himself with downing half his beer in three long gulps, and judging by the intense blush spreading across his face and neck, he had heard the whole exchange.

Maggie, it seemed, hadn’t. She looked expectantly at Doc, saying again, “Yeah?”

Doc glanced at Murphy, who didn’t seem prepared to speak, then finally said, “M-M-Murphy here just wanted ta say s-s-somethin ta ye.”

Murphy shot him an incredulous look while Maggie turned her expectant eyes on him. “Yes, Murphy?”

“Ah, aye, um…” he said uncertainly, unable to look at her. “I just…”

To his left, Connor, Rocco, and Renata tried to hold in their laughter; Doc stood on the other side of the bar looking sympathetic and exasperated; Maggie stared at him and waited for him to speak. Too many fucking eyes, all the fuck at once.

“Come on, now, she hasn’t got all fuckin night,” Connor goaded. “Spit it out, already!”

Blushing all the way to his ears, Murphy stared at the floor and mumbled, “Yer shoes are untied.”

There was a stunned silence and Maggie raised her eyebrows in surprise, glancing at her feet. “Oh. Thanks.” She set her tray on the bar, adjusted her laces, then went back to work.

There was an uproar as soon as she was gone, and even Doc was laughing at Murphy’s expense. Murphy himself kept quiet and finished his beer, still blushing.

“That’s gotta be the worst fuckin line I’ve ever heard,” Rocco declared, tapping ash off the end of his cigarette and shaking with laughter. “I’ve used some pretty shitty ones, but Jesus!”

“Way ta go, Casanova!” Connor crowed. “She was ready ta hand over her knickers for ye!”

Murphy plucked the cigarette from Rocco’s fingers and flicked it into Connor’s beer. “Four onta one,” he groused. “Ye motherfuckers don’t fight fair, not a fuckin one a ye.”

“All’s fair in love an’ war, lad,” Doc replied, pouring Connor a new pint.

“I’ll be damned! Ye got one right, old man!” Connor took the glass and gave Renata a nudge. “Ye gotta keep up, sweetheart,” he told her, gesturing to her drink. “Ye’ll never get tossed, the rate ye’re goin.”

“I’ll catch up,” she promised.

“Ye wanna watch it, drinkin with him,” Murphy warned her. “He’s a fuckin predator tryin ta get up that skirt ye’re wearin.”

“Is that so?” she asked. She raised her glass and drank, and drank, and drank, emptying the glass and setting it back on the bar with a loud chink. “I think I can handle him.”

The brothers stared at her in amazement and Rocco demanded, “Seriously, where the fuck did you pick her up?”

***

Part two to come!

[katekanekatekane]

I feel raw. 

(I also feel kinda sick, so I either am Having Emotions because im getting sick, or I’m Having So Many Emotions that i feel sick so that’s uhhh... annoying)

But old ass stuff has been coming for me lately and it’s a pain in the ass??

Like I read a twitter thread about stalking the other day and jesus christ it shot me right back. I hadn’t really thought about that being stalked had felt like in a long time and it’s so fucking gross. I remember being powerless and terrified and I felt for the woman talking about her experiences, I really fucking did. 

But that’s some old ass shit!!! I haven’t been fully bothered by my old stalker in like 4 years, those experiences are things that I’ve processed and aren’t part of my life anymore. Like... I don’t... need to worry about this..??? WHy must I have emotions about it?? Now??? 

And like... christ

Last night i was tag ranting because I always post on mobile and this site is a joke and i cant do stuff beneath a cut like this on mobile. And I... I worked through it all a little by ranting that way but I NEED to express why last night was so upsetting, but even verbalizing it is super draining and the idea of talking to someone else feels like a burden and I don’t want to put that on the people that I want to talk to... And ugh. Okay, let’s do this.

Last night.

I signed up for a risograph printing class. 

I was excited. 

I waited and splurged on it and I really want to learn riso.

Classes like that are socially scary for me, because new place, new people, new things,  but I wanted to do it, so I went out on the limb. This is also something that a younger, less healthy, me would have AGONIZED about before hand, but the me of today didn’t waste time worrying about ahead of time, because that’s not productive or useful. 

So, I go to the class.

The teacher seems nice.

My classmates seem okay. 3 out of the 5 of us already knew each other, so that makes stuff a little awkward for the other two of us, but whatever.  

I’m making small talk. Again, this is something that a younger me never would have dreamed of. Being brave enough to make small talk with strangers and to start conversations myself is leaps and bounds past the stuff I would have been able to do even a few years ago.

So, the teacher goes over the basics. I’m excited. Nervous, because my work hasn’t been super inclined to sitting down and shooting from the hip lately, but fine.

I start working.

I get excited about my project. 

It’s different than what everyone else is doing, but I think I can make it work, and it seems like a fun thing to make. I’d rather try and fail to do something I find interesting and care about than just bullshit around and make art I don’t give a shit about because it’s easy.

Cool, okay.

So, I’m drawing and prepping longer than my classmates. My classmates were all getting up and starting to print while i was still drawing. That’s okay. I have two hours of class left, I can make this work. 

I prep my different colored masters.

I go up to the riso for the teacher to help guide me through my first print. I’m the last to start.

(also note all 5 of us are sharing one riso, so we’re all taking turns, and other people are inclined to wait around up close by the machine for their turns-- something that is socially kind of a nightmare for me because uhhh I don’t want to be rude and people waiting like that makes me inclined to rush and make hurried choices.)

I grab a stack of paper to print on. I notice, once the teacher has already loaded it in, that the paper is cut and stacked a little crooked, which seems like it could be bad. It’s kinda too late, printing is already happening. I figure, “okay, whatever. It’ll be okay. I don’t mind the colors being misaligned.”

Also, note, I thought I was playing it cool that I was a little nervous and anxious. I was apologetic and stuff, but not anything that out of the ordinary for a new student. But that teacher, bless her heart, was astute as FUCK and in the worst possible way. She kept comfortingly being like “it’s okay” but in a way that showed me that she clearly saw me as shaky and uneasy, even when I was keeping it together pretty well. Or I thought I was keeping it together. So that’s not a Great sign. I don’t love my weakness being visible when I wasn’t trying to be vulnerable. 

I finish printing color #1.

I go back to work on the next level color master. I’m hurrying a little now, the end of class is getting nearer.

Eventually I go up to print this level and the teacher rejects it. It’s the alignment is off. Shit. I wasted all that time and have to start over.

I go back and make another, the end of class is getting TOO close. We have like 30 min. The professor is both hovering a little and avoiding me, clearly worried that I won’t finish. I am RUSHING. I decide to ditch doing a third color. This next level is going to be mediocre and weird, but it’ll be okay. I’m stressing about the time wasted on the ditched layer.

I’m waiting to use the riso with the others. She gets me in between people because I’m so far behind. Which, while nice, puts me on the spot again and doesn’t feel great because I’m clearly the artistic runt of this liter. Which would be fine if it wasn’t being broadcast to everyone else and I wasn’t getting special pity treatment.

We do a test proof. It’s bad. The alignement is awful. But everyone is standing around me and clearly wants to get more of their own prints in and I”m behind and being a pain and clearly getting special pity treatment, I don’t want more special pity treatment or to take more time from my classmates, so even though it’s AWFUL I say to just go ahead and print.

The teacher asks if I’m sure. Her face is full of sympathy and pity and she’s watching me like I’m a wounded animal. She sees the  fragility that I’m trying to hide and I hate it. I know that part of anxiety is always over reading what other people are thinking and feeling but I could SEE it on her and that’s what really fucked me up about last night. It wasn’t just my brain, so I couldn’t just write it off as my brain. This woman was seeing things that I didn’t want her to see, and instead of politely ignoring them for my pride, she was treating me like a fragile thing. 

I say yes to printing because if this moment lasts any longer i”m going to have an anxiety attack.

I go ahead and print and the prints start coming out and look unsurprisingly awful. She knows this. I know this. The others looking on, sympathetically, know this.

She gives me a pity compliment. “Oh, it looks kind of cool like this. This is one of the cool things about printing--” 

All artists have done this. We’ve all tried to be gentle with someone who’s work is a mess and is falling apart and looks terrible but we don’t want to be mean or hurt them so we dig for pity compliments. Pity compliments, while well intentioned are the devil. That makes me feel a thousand times worse than if she’d said “Well, it’s off, but this is your first time. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

I’d rather admit defeat and learn from it than someone pretend something awful is good to protect my ego.

And to make all this worse, the printer starts messing up. It’s grabbing more pages than it should, and misprinting already misaligned pages. She gets me to feed them back through. It does it again. She has me do it again. This is awful. What was already embarrassing and terrible is being prolonged, and each time I get more panicked, which only makes this worse. 

One or two of my classmates join in on the pity compliments. I want to die. I thank them, grab my prints, and bolt.

The teacher stops me, “Are you sure you don’t want to do a third color?”

It’s 10 till the end of class and other people who are WAY ahead of me and clearly want to do their own prints. I say no. 

I don’t want to take more time from other people. The piece is already ruined. She gives me a pitying look. She’s sympathetic. 

Others start printing. Good. Good. 

I went and hid in the bathroom for a minute to take a breath and cut down on social stimulation. I’m trying not to cry. I promise myself I will make it to my car before I cry. I wash my hands and fix my hair and pretend I’m okay.

I made it to my car.

But, okay. I know that, in the scheme of things, that this night was nothing. It was a little mess up that shouldn’t matter. But it hit a nerve.

What is the nerve?

Treating me like a weak, fragile thing. 

I’ve been that weak, fragile person that she saw. But I thought that I wasn’t that anymore. I thought that I knew that I’m not. 

I have come so. far.

But that didn’t matter. How much better I am now didn’t matter at all. 

Me as I am now, to her, was the same as the weaker, more fragile person that I once was. She didn’t see the trembling, or the stuttering, or the sweating that I would have been doing 4, 6, or 10 years ago. She didn’t notice that I tried to make small talk with her to alleviate the awkwardness of last night, and didn’t see how much better that was than the lip biting silence and shuffling that I would have been doing a few years ago.

My strong was her weak.

And she fucking saw me.

That’s the worst part of all this.

If she hadn’t noticed, that would have been totally fine and perfect. Or if I had been reading too much onto her, I could have gone home and been like “nah, that was on me.”

No.

She saw my anxiety and fear and reacted the WORST possible way that someone could react to me and it made me want to disappear.

I would have taken her pretending not to notice. I would have taken her actually not noticing. Hell, I would have taken her being rude or openly hostile and cruel. But pity. JESUS CHRIST, pity. Pity means that she doesn’t think I’m strong enough to handle being treated normally, and that makes me want to vomit. She saw me, and she saw weakness, she saw fragility.

I can scream all I want about how strong and solid I am now, but that doesn’t matter a fucking inch because what she saw is so telling.

Regardless of what I think I am, what other people see when they looks at me shows what the world sees. What those not measuring by growth see. 

And I... I know I have weak moments. I know that I have moments of fragility or open anxiousness or being obviously sensitive.

But this moment was barely on that scale. I was doing pretty well for me. I thought that I was doing okay.

But she clearly didn’t think so.

So that’s uhhhh awful.

And seriously, she was super nice. I’m not upset with her. I’m just upset, and upset with myself.

Nothing has changed, I’ll keep trying new things and pushing and trying to be brave. But this hurt. This hurt a lot.  

I was really knocked down a peg. Didn’t realize that I needed to be knocked down but uuuh apparently I did. 

So

I’m okay. 

I’m just sore. 

But I’m okay.

(Or I will be.)