#I need to practice drawing all the mercs more

[vamps-hmu]

Five Nights at Heavy's

I love heavy tf2 he's so silly

[oranjeleeuw]

hows the pacific rim au going ???? its such a neat idea and i need ppl to draw concept art for it

DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU MY FRIEND

First of all, life happened and happened for good, I couldn't write much before but Now. NOW is the time.

I planned and plotted a lot during the whole year I first came up with the idea and I have a kind of strong base for the AU. I also have a brilliant beta by my side, my dear friend Frog (@faramircaptainofgender), so hopefully during this summer this idea will be shared with you all outside our little friend group.

I'll take this opportunity and shamelessly turn my answer into a main post for the AU.

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the title:

Human within the Machine

[brief synopsis]

The Nations of the world developed a simulation where future Jaeger pilots can practice for in-action cases. Max Verstappen outshines every other contestants in the history of drifting, there's only one problem - he's no team player.

Charles Leclerc is determined to stop the Kaijus and end their reign, once and for all. He lost his parents due to kaiju attacks, now he feels responsible not only to avenge their deaths, but to bring a brighter future to his brothers.

Jaeger engineering is living its golden age, there is money in it and many enthusiastic contestants who are not entirely aware of the horror that awaits them out at the ocean.

[disclaimer]

There’s no main plot (as in: I am not planning on detailed world-building neither to save the world from kaijus, I am smaller than that), the endgame is to get Max into an active combat where he drifts with Charles and they’re in the Il Predestinato (the legendary Jaeger that has been out of service for a decade, waiting for the right co-pilots). Everything before and in between are just themes I desire to explore within the possibilities of this AU.

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I have a playlist that helps me to stay inspired, songs are not in order yet though, but as I said earlier, chapters are meant to be kind-of standalone scenes, existing in their own moods and settings.

Each chapter will have its own chosen background music linked to them. I also added many symphonic songs just to get in the mood for some combat scenes.

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[good to know]

Roles: In the case of HwtM we have active and passive characters in this story. Due to the fact that many scenes are set in drift-memories, where not everything is factual and we are in the mix of memories and feelings, some characters will only appear and speak through these moments. Therefore they fall into the passive category - they are the legends. I will talk about them in their own post but the gist of it is what I wrote above, they cannot speak for themselves so we will only see them through tilted lenses: idolised, villanised, or the mix of both.

Which also means another thing - everyone is an unreliable narrator.

Teams and Jaegers: Since this is the golden age of Jaeger engineering, we will have many-many Jaegers. So far I named only a few, but to stay true to the source material, I'm trying to make them just as cheesy yet compelling as the ones were in the movies. The constructor teams from real life are not so different from what they represent in HwtM, but I altered some of their names to fit more into the world (older names or older sounding names of some teams since the future that Pacific Rim has is basically our present. I was aiming for some retro-vibe).

Here, they are different detachments under the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, in the Jaeger Academy division. I’m planning on working with Merc, Ferrari, McLaren, Williams and of course Redbull.

Mercedes is called Benz

Ferrari is called Alfa Romeo

Red Bull is Toro Rosso

The other two stay under the same name.

Ships to look out for: it is a Lestappen-centered story (if I am really honest with you, it’s Max-centered first of all) but on the side-lines we will look into some depths of Carlando, Galex and Maxiel in…some way. Please-please keep in mind, that these won’t be fully developed romantic relationships in the fic, I’m reporting from the minds and souls of these boys, objectively perceived scenes between them will be rare and much more comrade-like.

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That is all I planned to share for starters. Feel free to ask about the process or anything really, that is related to this project, it’s my beloved child and can’t wait to share it all with others!

[vellamare]

MAKING THE TF2 MERCS' ROOMS IN MINECRAFT!!

This is part 2 of my lil' series!! If you wish to see the previous part, which includes Spy and Heavy's rooms, you can see it

HERE!

And part 3 is HERE !!

Enough dilly dally ! Here are the next mercs!!

3) The Scout

I admit, I didn't know what I wanted for this guy at first. Like Heavy, I didn't have many headcanons about him. Unless it was about him getting bullied by everyone else. But then I remembered Lil' Pootis exists and it showed Scout's room fully, so I took a bit of inspiration as a start. And then I took into account that not only is Scout OBSESSED with Tom Jones (hence the sign, which is supposed to say "Bring Tom Jones Memorabilia"), but Scout also enjoys baseball. Taking the inspiration from Lil' Pootis and his established interests into account, this what I came up with.

I raised Scout's bed since I believe he likes to jump down as a bit of adrenaline in the morning. (I headcanon him as an adrenaline junkie and love going headfirst into battle because it's such a rush to run through bullets and dodging people fighting him.) The paintings along the wall are supposed to be posters of Tom Jones while the ones by his bed are pictures of his family and Ms. Pauling (she's not gonna kiss you bro...). Speaking of the wall, I put targets on it so he can practice throwing his baseball at it. So when he's bored he just throws the ball at the targets and continuously catches it once it bounces back. The armor stand with the head is a dummy that's supposed to be an extra target. The little "fridge" is Scout's fridge that he asked Engie to make for him and that's where Scout stores his BONK! The heads beside the bed is supposed to Tom Jones figurines :) Lastly, the three story dresser not only stores Scout's clothes, but they also store his weapons and his comic books (how Pootis inspired me LOL). OH!! Bonus, the lantern in the corner is there because the lamp (which is supposed to be for when Scout reads his books) didn't provide enough light to properly illuminate his room.

4) The Pyro

Okay I admit I did derive a lot of inspiration from Lil' Pootis when building Pyro's room, but I tried to put my own spin onto her room. I will say Pyro's room was a lot of fun to make though. And I hope Pootis won't kill me for the amount of inspiration I've taken..

So first of all, while I haven't shown the door, there is gasoline leaking out because Pyro can be a bit clumsy and spilled the gasoline onto the floor. The gasoline is supposed to be the vases by the door. I wish I could put a vase onto the side to represent the spillage but :/ The giant black spot on the wall is supposed to be a massive burn. Pyro blasted her flamethrower at the wall, but was stopped so she doesn't burn the building to the ground. That clearly didn't stop her considering she has an active fire in the corner with a bunch of torches on the walls gjsgskskh. Aside from the burns, there's also blood on the walls because like Solly, she likes storing body parts (even if she thinks they're stuffed toys). The paintings on her wall are drawings she made herself, one of them are actually a gift from Scout while another is a gift from Engie. Pyro has a little music place too, but her tastes are more... chaotic... compared to Heavy and Spy. The adjustable bookcase is her nightstand where Pyro leaves her lighter and flare gun!! In the center of the room is her little tea party!! Where Pyro has her cake (baked by Heavy at her request) while having the body parts she stole of her victims !! The spider webs in the corner isn't there because of any neglect, it's actually Pyro's pet. She found a spider that one of the mercs were about to kill and she immediately saved it and kept it in her room. Now it hangs out in her room!!

5) The Medic

Medic's room was honestly really easy to work on. I had a clear vision of what I wanted, which made this room a BREEZE. Also yes, Medic does NOT want anyone needing medical attention near the quarters, he wants PEACE go AWAY. So the bars and stone slabs are birdcages. When Engie moved to Medic's room, he requested the birds to be caged at least at night. Medic reluctantly agreed because whatever the husband wants... Since Medic and Engie share this room, they have their own night stands AND lamps, but it's mainly for late night reading or illuminating the room when one of the birdies need something. Beside the bed, there's a little desk with a picture that's supposed to show Engie's family. The tulip on the table is a flower Engie gave to Medic on their first date :) While they share a lot, they don't share a dresser, Medic's idea. Between the dressers is their wedding photo <3 The barrels are where bird food and other things for the birds are stored. The signs are both a label and a reminder of feeding the birds. They both share the responsibility of feeding these nerds. Lastly, the two armor stands by the door are supposed to be their coat racks, they're neglected since they tend to just throw their clothes onto the floor to change into pjs because they're SO tired. They pick up after themselves in the morning tho dw..

And this concludes part 2!! :)

[coolfireguy73]

I did a thing

It's not any particular ship or headcanon.

I just love drawing men in dresses. I don't know why. It's just so fun to me ! This in particular came from a post I saw on Instagram a while back.

This one.

Love the dress, love the moves. So I just took screenshots and drew them :)

And more than just fun it's great practice for poses and folds !

I'm quite proud of these two pages, I think I've finally figured out how to incorporate the feel I wanted into my sketchbook. This scrapbooking inspo I talked about a few blogs back.

I'm gonna need more stickers tho :/

Small life update :

Drawing in general has been a bit difficult for me lately. So I have been focusing all the drawing energy I had left toward work.

That's why I've been a bit absent. But I back, slowly but surely I'm beginning to draw for myself again.

Anyway hope you like this one. I may do one similar with the tf2 mercs. But I'll need to buy more stickers first

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

Alternate reason as to why Ponyboy joined the party! If you guys want me to make this canon in my fic, it’s not entirely too late, I could add it into a different chapter if you want

My whole life I’ve been devalued, and I was fully aware of that.

Now, of course, nobody downright told me, nobody says that to a twelve year old, but I could tell it was true.

Mom was always too busy keeping Dally out of jail. She always criticized me, comparing me to my brothers if I did anything wrong. When I skipped a grade she barely said anything, she was tryin to figure out what to make for dinner because they had so many. 

They had three, two now considering the fact I wasn’t even a Curtis at this point. 

If the gang went somewhere without inviting me, and I asked about it, she would always go on a tangent along the lines of:

“Oh come on, Ponyboy! You arn’t apart of the gang, your brothers just let you hang around because it would rude not to invite you. Let them spend time with their friends without their little brother nagging them.”

I was ten when she first told me that. That’s when the insecurity started. 

One time, she was trying to bail him out of jail. I hadn’t known he was even jail at the time so I had asked her to come to my track meet. She had never yelled at me so loud and so angrily before.

I never asked her, or anyone for that matter, to go to a track meet again. I just dealt with the fact that I never had a family in the stands and when I won I wouldn’t have a family to celebrate with. I’d be the kid who won but was alone afterwards.

Dad was loved talking to Sodapop about cars and went to every single one of Darry’s football games. Dad was the one that taught Sodapop to fix cars. He was so happy to teach him but when I asked, he was always too busy.

He was always there when Two had a hangover, when Dal needed out of jail, when Johnny was beat up by his dad, when Steve was kicked out by his, when Darry got into a fight or Sodapop had a bad breakup.

But he couldn’t spare five minutes to talk to his youngest son. 

I guess that’s probably my fault. Who would want to talk to me anyways?

Darry never had time, similar to dad. He always had football practice he was hanging with friends. If I needed help on homework, I could always “Do it myself” since I had skipped a grade. If I was ever crying, I was a crybaby.

If Johnny was down, he’d take him to play football or get ice cream. He replaced one little brother for the one he actually wanted. That had stung.

A lot.

But Johnny didn’t have family, so I never said anything. I convinced myself the reason I never got any attention was because Johnny needed it more. So I let him have it. Even if that meant I lost my brother because of it.

Two-bit was always nice to me. I always thought he was the only one who liked me. But that was quickly thrown out the window when I overheard him complaining to dad about beating a babysitter.

I turned down every offer to go anywhere with him after that. I joined tons of free activities at school to keep myself there so h wouldn’t have to babysit. 

I joined the arts club and got really good at drawing and actually enjoyed it a lot. I joined the book club where we all pick a book and read it. We can talk about it when we join again. I joined the fight team, the basketball team, the soccer team, and I kept doing track.

The teachers praised me on how many clubs and teams I joined and always commented on how my family must be proud…they didn’t even know.

I also joined Drama and got any role I wanted, I just had to ask for it. I got Hamilton I the play “Hamilton” and I got Bert in the Mary Poppins musical. My class,ages insisted it was because I was a “Pretty Boy” but I didn’t believe that.

Which is a perfect segway into the next person; Steve. He’s always made fun of me and always told me I was a tag-a-long. Until my mother confirmed what he was saying, I’d always roll my eyes, now I look down and whisper “I know” only loud enough for me to hear.

He would mercilessly make fun of my height and weight. 

“You’re too fat for how short you are”

 “You eat too much, you’re gonna be all chubby when you grow up!”

And everyone laughs. They don’t even try to stop him. Not Darry, not Sodapop. Soda only tried stopping the rude comments after mom and dad died, and I don’t know why.

Dally is self explanatory. He hates me, similar to Steve, and it’s clear. He hates everyone in the world but the gang and I wasn’t apart of the gang. Johnny was the only one he genuinely loved.

He always looked disappointed when I’d go to the drive-ins with them, so I’d make excuses as to why I couldn’t go after I agreed. He’d have a grin on his face when he’d find out it’d only be him and Johnny, or only him and the gang, or only him and Two-bit.

And Sodapop? Sodapop was nicest to me, even more than Two-Bit. He’d invite me places with him and Steve, he’d drive me places after he had gotten his license, he slept in my bed when I’d gotten nightmares.

All it took was for one singular “Shut up! God, you’re so annoying!” To have my one person, my one wall come tumbling down and left in a pile of ash and bricks.

I should have known he didn’t mean it, I should have known he was just having a bad day. But I was thirteen, and growing up how I did, you never think rationally. I asked to stop sharing a room after that too, and Soda happily agreed.

At least Steve couldn’t bug me about that anymore.

Annoying. Brat. Tag-a-long. Stupid. Loud.

Those words rang in my head all the time and they are what kept me in my room almost everyday.

So, I really have no idea why, but I did something insane. I joined a different group. A different gang. The Party.

Sure, I’ve known everyone in the gang since I was still in diapers, we grew up together, but that’s the problem. I’ve known them my entire life they have only known me for, what? Eight years? Ten years?

Sure, that’s a lot, but when they don’t like you it becomes a lot shorter.

They wouldn’t care if I made my own friends. They wouldn’t care who they were. They wouldn’t care that I took off the dog-tag necklace mom got us all when the gang was complete. They wouldn’t care if I got new brothers and new brother figures. 

They wouldn’t care.

But to my shock, they did.

[tricobicoart]

Tf2 Rothena!! Original & redesign!! She became my tf2 si after(under the cut):

I made a whole au where she was on a warp pad & some enemy activated it or destroyed it when she was trying to activate it to help, and she got transported to the tf2 universe (more game and non-story-comics-based one) and gradually gave less shits until she gave up(once she realized there was no way back home) on way more morals than dan vs or tf2 mae, and after busting out of jail one too many times, she accepts a job from the Administrator's corporation for protection of her & some one-sided(on her side)friends, and her fate is cemented there. Also she has the same default scars as tf2 & danvs Mae but i didn't draw them in bc i was focused on getting the new damn 'render' done. Less scars in general tho bc of her unique half-gem-full-human nature, it was easier to incorporate her into the respawn system.

Their team role is officially The Understudy, but she calls herself Cannon Fodder, Expendable, other self-deprecating terms that the team members she didn't gel with went along with(Soldier, Spy, Scout occasionally, Medic bc he thinks it's as funny as she does, same for Sniper) at the beginning. She usually picks or is assigned to(read: the rest of the team draw straws or fight w rock-paper-scissors to determine) one team member throughout the match, assisting them in their job as backup or cannon fodder/actual scouting (its okay bc she respawns & is gets good at not dying eventually). okay discord copy pasting abt her under th ecut

Rothena joins red team starting out being completely herself: adhd, gen z suicide jokes, talking abt how much she loves women, etc, unlike how she usually acts when meeting new people. She figures "it's the 1960s, if i'm gonna get like hate crimed i better do it before i get attached, put all my quirks out in the open" & being so open abt herself actually endears some of the mercs to her (& makes others think she's nuts/has to self-preservation which. true lol) However this makes soldier her worst enemy bc she keeps talking abt how much she hates america. Despite being american rothena: i want free healthcare soldier: you want handouts!? rothena: no, i just don't want to pay 10,000 dollars bc some rando got me sick & i needed to be hospitalized

eventually they settle the fighting with "america could be improved but it's our home & we should stand for it & support it to improvement" but before then, HOO boy they're like in the "can i PLEASE get a waffle" vine: rothena & soldier: *fighting abt america* engineer: can you stand on the point?? rothena & soldier: *get more violent* engineer: can you PLEASE stand on the point?!?

Rothena does godawful at her first day on the field--she's only worked with sitting-duck or inexperienced targets w miss pauling, & the team dismisses her as a liability, so she does her best to stay out of the way bc she thinks so too (and tbh she kind of is, it's like if a casual/beginner jumped into a competitive match in tf2). But heavy takes pity on her and takes her under his wing, having her practice when he has free time he's willing to sacrifice, and having her shadow him during battles!! And the team sees her become more useful and eventually more of them start asking her to shadow them, earning her first positive class-based nickname, (Little) Shadow! Maybe medic sees her potential to learn and observe when she picks up a stray medigun and uses it on him without ever being taught how to!! And from there the trust builds!!

how tf2 rothena started: "blue hair" by tv girl (sad/melancholy) how tf2 rothena is going(canon): "using you" by margo (bittersweet but mostly happy) how tf2 rothena will end up(post-canon): "lifetime achievement award" by lemon demon or smth w similar resurrection themes (driven mad from love and care, unwilling to let go of mortal friends, medic is in on this)

[zoezenii]

Trying to draw cyberpunk-themed kids clothes is harder than I thought I would be.

She goes by V, though her name is actually Nova, (Valerie just didn’t fit her so...) Explanation of name, and some of her street-kid backstory below the cut ;3

One of her moms was a local, neighborhood mercenary in Heywood and occasionally worked in Japantown. Vivi, got to a point where she was a well-loved and selfless merc who stayed close to home. She basically became a Robin Hood of sorts for the neighborhood. Pissing off cops so they’d chase her instead of harassing neighbors. Or slipping into Westbrook’s wealthier areas to steal and pocket meds, food, and other necessities that they needed down in Heywood.

The neighbors nicknamed her as ‘V’ and eventually when Nova was old enough to get into trouble just like her mom, they took to calling Nova ‘lil V’ as an endearment. When her mom, Vivi, “retired” from merc work and Nova began doing jobs in Heywood, the name of ‘V’ sort of was passed down onto her. People in Heywood that she knew growing up still might call her ‘lil V.’

As for the name Nova. Vivi, one of her moms, knew that “nova” was used as slang for cool or awesome. She’s a little chaotic, and was like, “hell ye. let’s name our daughter Nova.” Her other mother, Natia, is in the simplest of terms a witch who also works as a netrunner & ripperdoc of sorts. She didn’t know it was a slang term until much later. Her witchy side just liked naming her daughter after something so strong, beautiful and celestial. And that’s why her full name is Nova, and why she took on the name “V” as she was becoming a mercenary.

Outside of her name, I’m going to explain more about Nova’s background, parents and growing up in Heywood below~

So. First with her parents.

Vivi or Vivienne (though she probably doesn’t even answer to the formal version anymore) also grew up in Night City as a streetkid. Her parents, living in Japantown, died when she was very young. She was sent to foster homes and orphanages, though, when she was old enough, Vivi began running away and living on the streets. Eventually she was taken in by a merc who lived right in Heywood. Vivi grew up in her apartment, even though she wasn’t always around and was not really a mother figure to Vivi. More like an older sister, if anything. Nonetheless, the stuff Vivi hadn’t learned on the streets such as fighting, using melee weapons, firing a gun and understanding the different parts of Night City better. When Vivi got older, she started working as a merc herself, but found that she preferred to stay in the neighborhood rather than run around to different fixers and different parts of the city. Her whole career was based on helping and running jobs for people who didn’t have much and didn’t have money to pay fixers. Vivi, became a local Robin Hood, using her skills to try and help Heywood and other neighborhoods on the edges of Heywood. However, with all the daily dangers and risks she took, Vivi eventually had no choice but to pay for prosthetics that helped keep her alive. Nova has only ever known Vivi having plates for skin, synthetic organs, and other necessary upgrades.

Natia, Nova’s other mother, was actually a foreigner who came to the NUSA looking for a better life and an escape from past ghosts. Eventually, Natia began to travel the States with a nomad group that would wander from city to city. Natia had always been a witch of sorts and often did tarot readings, and small spells to better the life of those around her. When with the nomads, Natia worked to learn how to netrun and even basic medicine that a ripperdoc could provide. When reaching Night City, Natia found a small little shop for a cheap price in Heywood and decided to stay in the city and open her own little store. She became a skilled netrunner and, with the basic ripperdoc practices she had learned, began trying to help the locals. She found a lot of them had old prosthetics that were failing and they couldn’t afford newer models. Natia learned to help fix and prolong the use of prosthetics for people and save a lot of lives as she grew more and more comfortable with it. Nova has never seen her mother officially call herself a ripperdoc, because she felt as though the title didn’t fit her and didn’t want people who would hear “ripperdoc” and avoid her store thinking that they would need to pay her. Natia still kept up her witch practices in her shop and her business, was simple and not focused on making money off people in need. She asked for donations at times from the neighborhood just to keep her shop and necessities to help. Whenever she asked, her past patients and neighbors, who knew they might need her help one day, were happy to give her what they could. Natia managed to scrape by with this and has been working this odd combination of jobs for as long as Nova could remember.

Vivi and Natia met due to Vivi hearing rumors about her shop, and would occasionally slip in to peek around and ask for a tarot reading. Vivi would ask questions and upon learning about the things that Natia didn’t have and needed, Vivi would search for the various items she needed, whether they were tools, medicines or even just credits and sneak in at night to leave whatever she collected at the time. Of course, Natia was a netrunner and Vivi was not always as slick as she thought she was, therefore, it didn’t take long before Natia learned she was doing this and confronted her. Vivi assured her, that she stole the items from the richer areas of Night City or worked some job in exchange for whatever she had collected. It took time, but Natia began to trust her and Vivi found herself growing a little crush on the ‘cyber-witch.’

Though their business is still active at the time of Cyberpunk 2077’s plotline, they are still confined to the neighborhood and keep the little business that began with Natia from branching out too far. Afraid that some gang would try to extort them, (the Valentinos almost had before Padre had stepped in.) In addition, certain corps would hear of this ripperdoc and sometimes send people to hunt for the little shop. Natia’s witch shop was a good and sturdy front, and none of the residents in Heywood had any interest in snitching to corps about something that was actually doing good.

Nova or V’s personal history began in Heywood and since the age of 5, Nova knew those streets just as well as any Heywood kid. Natia, would teach her and get her little prosthetics as she got older and taught her how to defend herself as a netrunner. Vivi on the other hand gave Nova all the knowledge she had gained about the city, melee fighting and how to safely use various guns over all her time living in the city. Also climbing buildings, running away and other athletics were Vivi’s specialty that she insisted Nova learn, in case she ever needed a quick escape. Nova became a netrunner who could actually protect and fight without hacking or other netrunning abilities if need be. She quickly became known for those talents and began going by the name of “V.”

[yesterdayiwrote]

Some of the takes I see about George online are actually insane.

I saw someone saying basically the issue with the W14 is that mercedes followed how George felt about the car in development and not Lewis, therefore it suits George and that mercedes should not have taken georges opinion in development as seriously as Lewis's. That they should have focused on making the car suit Lewis and have George adapt.

Its like people aren't aware that these cars are a different era of cars to what lewis won his championship with. Plus it isn't like the engineers are gonna go sure we will go with George in this even though what Lewis says will be faster. They go with what they feel the fastest concept will be, they don't just decide to go with George because they like him more than Lewis.

Plus it ignores the fact that George was working in the Mercedes simulator all the way back from the brocedes era. It was his work in the simulator which gave him opportunities to test drive cars and do free practice sessions and tire tests. Surely he must have some abilty in the sim and the engineers have alot of trust in him. They are always praising his technical knowlege. Just look at last weekend. Lewis even admitted that George chose the better set up and strategy, even though on paper it shouldn't have been.

Honestly I feel for the lad. People insulted him last year because apparently he didn't do enough for development for the car and lewis was doing all the experiments and it cost him points and now because the cars a bit crap its all his fault because they put more weight into what George has said about development. Both cannot be true. You can't say George didn't do any development last year but also blame him for the car being bad this year because of what he said in development last year.

Okay, I’ve been trying to think of a way to answer this since I got it, and I’m really struggling to find a way that covers ALL the nuance of the situation whilst simultaneously airing my frustration and trying not to be a biased dick about it. I do genuinely like both of them.

This creeping narrative that everything that goes wrong is because of George and everything that goes right is because of Lewis really does fuck me off big time because it’s just such childish bullshit and I can’t be dealing with it. That said it’s so ridiculously childish that it’s barely worth giving much credence to. The people know what they’re doing and sometimes you just have to let people have their copium and just… laugh?

I think people need to allow Lewis to be vulnerable and this aching need by some people to paint this picture that he is a perfect, fully rounded driver with absolutely no flaws or weaknesses does no one any favours. Sure we haven’t seen them as much, because success has a tendency to conceal these things, but even the GOATs have areas that need improvement. Merc have no responsibility to treat him as a first priority in all eventualities, and doing so would do Lewis more harm than good? If they had insisted on switching the cars in Jeddah like some people wanted, it surely would have been ten times more humiliating for him when he got passed by his teammate five laps later going quicker on the harder tyre?

George has a really solid eye for strategy. He can call strategy in the car while he’s driving a race and that’s no mean feat. Personally, I feel Lewis is weaker in that area. He prefers the team to lead his strategy and he puts his full faith in them to get it right and that’s fine, plenty of drivers do that. It’s not a glaring void in his arsenal, but in times when things go wrong it gives George an advantage he can draw on. People get angry at him doing it, because he’s ‘putting himself first’ but equally sometimes you’ve got to control your own destiny.

The whole situation with the car design is getting a bit ‘He said, She said’. Lewis said no one listened to him and he had all the right answers. George said they all agreed the direction together. We’ll never know who is telling the truth. Chances are it’s somewhere in the middle. Some teams do design their cars to suit one specific driver over another. I don’t know that I buy into any theory that suggests in Merc it would be George, even if he did come out on top last year. I said before I was a bit disappointed with Lewis’ comments and I think they were ill advised and borne out of frustration, as did he in the press conference, and then effectively doubled down and said something just as contentious in the post race interviews 🤷🏼‍♀️

We know George has done car development. You can’t joke about him being locked in the Sim and then simultaneously accuse him of not assisting with development, and then simultaneously accuse him of driving the entire development direction to suit himself. Like any sane person knows all of those things can’t be true cos the maths ain’t mathing?

Lewis isn’t ultimately responsible for his fans and the things they say, that being said I do feel like he sees more than he lets on and he knows when to give a crafty stir of the pot. They all do? This is purely his fans doing it though, not him, even if Spinz hasn’t helped matters in the past 😒

I think it’s a shame it’s got to this state though. I feel sorry for George and I do feel sorry for Lewis as well. It is a tougher situation for him in light of 2021. None of this is George’s fault though and it’s sad to see the online discourse getting so… tribal at times.

[mercmenagerie]

Heat skitters under Archie's skin as he takes in all those lovely sounds Jenny made just for him. A particular flavour of pride surfaced from knowing he was the one to illicit those from her and with so little. It nearly pulled a smug smile from the sniper, yet he swallowed it with another low groan. A fleeting thought to obey those hands pulling at his collar and removing the shirt passes through the huntsman's mind but is put on a back burner for now. No need to be getting ahead of themselves so quickly; no, Archie wanted to draw this out.

Parting for just a moment as Jenny seems to struggle to understand the words he'd spoken, the huntsman grins just before lips descend on his once more. Then he's the one who makes far too much noise as fingers grip tightly against the scruffy locks of brown hair close to his skull. He almost wishes she'd pull a bit harder. Heart hammering against his ribs, the huntsman's arms wrap around Jenny's body, pulling her close in a need to feel every inch of her pressed against him. Hands smoothing up the scout's back before dragging blunt nails down the expanse of her back, Archie scoots back on the van roof just a few inches as he tugs Jenny up to straddle his lap.

Those clumsy movements of the scout aren't challenging to move with, and Archie meets the enthusiasm step for step. Teeth grazing Jenny's lip once again before he winds the length of her ponytail around the back of his scarred knuckles and yanks her head back. Kisses lacing down the length of the other's jaw and neck, he hums deeply in his chest. Sharp canines drag down along the sensitive flesh as he leaves a light hickey just over Jenny's thundering pulse. It would fade in a few minutes, even if he wanted to leave more lasting ones. To see those marks on her neck later on, even if it got looks from the other mercs, and to wear whatever marks she left on him. Archie's blood was like lava in his veins at the thought.

"Been wondering when you'd finally get the courage to make a move, shiela." Archie practically purrs against Jenny's neck, the fingers of his free hand gripping one of her thighs. "Was certainly worth the wait." Index finger teasing along the warm skin of Jenny's leg just beneath the hem of her shorts, the sniper lifts his head to nip at her earlobe. "Wonder what other pretty little sounds I could get you to make."

it's like her entire body was on fire. his experienced lips and tongue alone could drive any person mad, his groans against her the cherry on top. then he bites, and jenny's voice whimpers like a dog. but she's greedy, she needed more, always needing more and more of him. kissing harder, deeper, leaning further in -- anything to get more out of every movement. ( sure, she's kissed people before, who hasn't? but they were always drunk, always a joke. never like this. never with someone like the huntsman. never with someone that made her so weak. )

her head shifts as his hands did, hitched little moans escaping her with his rougher, wordless demands. he certainly knew how to treat a woman, didn't he? ... wait, when had he pulled his gloves off? his hands felt hot even to her burning cheeks, a strange comfort from a man like himself, and the scout worries for a moment if she might start melting. his touch, the kisses, his low voice -- how was anyone suppose to function like this? her own hand now freed had drifted upwards, up, up, this one clinging to the collar of his shirt instead. a wordless plea.

" ... h- ... huh? " she murmurs a little between lighter kisses. had he said something? the blood rushing through her ears made it difficult to tell. it felt like every little thing he did was built specifically to break her mind in half, swallowing down the little sounds as she feels his thumb against her throat. her heart was racing. she might explode, right here and now.

... and there's a chance he knew that. knew what he was doing to her. was that why he had lingered? how embarrassing for her. perhaps she needed to pick up the pace a little.

she still hadn't registered his words completely, only getting the vague idea before he shuts her up again. and this time, jenny was a little more ready. the hands once clinging to his shirt move upwards again, one pressing into his chest as it follows the other behind archie's head, fingers entangling with dark brown hair beneath his hat with a tug. lips would part only for a mere moment, tugging his head back to let her speak.

" let's make this count, then. "

she falls back into him, as clumsy as before, but with a fire lit in her heart. her body moves closer, closer, pressing into the huntsman until no space was left between as she kisses him again, again, giving his lips a bite of her own, before kissing again. anything to drag this moment out, anything to get everything she could from the huntsman. she wasn't ready to quit just yet.

[anonymous-astronaut]

How about a seasonal ask: The Mercs all put their names into a bucket (Spy checks carefully this time), and every one of them draws a name, only putting it back if it's their own name. The reason? The Administrator has ordered them to participate in a mandatory Secret Santa Exchange. Who winds up getting gifts for who, and what do they give each other?

Omg i love this idea! I’m gonna assign them to each other at random, let’s see how it goes!

Scout: He got Medic! This is a little frightening to him, Scout is low key scared of the doc and is a little worried the he might get his organs stolen if he doesn’t get the right gift. But on the bright side, at least he didn’t get Spy! Another plus is that Scout thinks Medic is super easy to think of gifts for, I mean the guy just likes doctor stuff a birds right?? Scout gives him a mug that says “#1 Boss” with the “Boss” scratched out in sharpie and replaced with “Doc”, and a caricature of Medic and his birds that Scout drew by hand. Medic finds these gifts hilarious, he pins the drawing up in his lab and uses the mug regularly.

Soldier: His Secret Santa is Scout! Soldier does not think for a single second about what Scout might actually want, he only thinks about what (in his own unique opinion) Scout needs. He thinks Scout is far too scrawny, so Soldier gets him a huge tub of protein powder or straight up leaves a whole ham shank in front Scout’s bedroom door. He also hade makes an America-themed baseball hat, which is the most thoughtful he can manage to be since Scout actually does wear that kind of hat. Scout tries his best to pretend he likes the gifts, but he’s a little unimpressed. You couldn’t catch him dead wearing the hat, except maybe on the 4th of July, but he will eat the ham shank (or hit something with it.)

Pyro: They got Engie! They are very excited about this, but also a little worried because they aren’t sure if their gift will be good enough. It’s not like they can get him engineering tools or something like that, because Engie either already has it or needs something so specific no one would know to get it for him. Instead, Pyro decides to hand-decorate some cookies for him. The cookies range from snowflakes to unicorns to flames, even a little mini sentry. Engie loves it, he thoroughly enjoys savoring the cookies when he winds down each afternoon, and he thinks the decorations are right cute.

Demo: Demo drew Spy’s name, and he thinks of it as a sort of fun holiday challenge for himself. He knows he could just get a bottle of wine for the guy and call it a day, but he wants Spy to be surprised and impressed with his gift and knows that cheap wine won’t cut it. Demo does his research, he figures out which brands Spy prefers and gets him a new pair of gloves, a fancy lighter, and imported French Cognac. It’s pricey, but it’s worth it to see Spy genuinely shocked that the gifts are up to his standards.

Heavy: Heavy got Pyro and honestly, he is stumped on what to do. The only thing he really knows about Pyro is that they love fire, but he can’t think of a reasonable or responsible way to turn that into a gift. He’s pretty sure they like unicorns and stuff like that, and he does know how to sew, so he decides to make them a stuffed animal out of fire resistant fabric. It’s hard to sew and is very stiff for a plushy, but Pyro absolutely loves it so Heavy considers it a success.

Engie: Engie drew Soldiers name. At first he thinks it’ll be a piece of cake, Soldier isn’t exactly quiet about his likes and dislikes. But the more Engie thinks about it, the more he realizes how hard it is to think of a good gift. Ends up getting him something super practical, like a new razor or supplies for cleaning out his rocket launcher. Despite the fact that it’s wrapped, Soldier doesn’t realize it’s a gift and thinks it’s just a weird supply drop.

Medic: The doc got Sniper. He honestly doesn’t put a lot of thought into it, in Medic’s mind he has better things to do than worry about what present to get. Plus, he knows Sniper is pretty reasonable and won’t have a fit about it if he doesn’t love the gift. Sniper gets a six pack of hard cider and some store-bought Stollen with a bow slapped on it left outside he’s camper door. Sniper thinks that’s a pretty sweet deal, you won’t catch him complaining.

Sniper: He got Heavy. He wishes he knew more about the guy, but figures he can come up with something good anyway. He gets him some quality chocolate and a warm hat cause he figures Heavy’s bald-ass head gets cold in the snow. If he finds the time, he whittles a little ornament of Sasha out of wood. Heavy appreciates it, he especially enjoys the chocolate and is very impressed with the ornament.

Spy: He got Demo (it was completely a coincidence that they got each other lol.) Spy has absolutely no idea what to get him. Giving him alcohol seems like the obvious answer, but he has no idea what Demo drinks and doubts he could stomach purchasing such low quality liquor anyway. After a little consideration he ends up getting him a fancy and stylish Sporran. Demo definitely wasn’t expecting that, but he thinks it’s great fun and immediately gets out his kilt to try it on.

[mercurygray]

Hi Merc! I’m a long time fan and I’m looking to get into more consistent creative endeavors. What keeps you going when you’re running low on creativity? Any tips for building something that lasts?

Gosh, nonnie, thank you for…being a fan! I answered a version of this question here, but I'll give an updated answer.

First things first. I have a regular sleep schedule, I try to eat pretty healthy, and I try to take a walk or a run every day and do some yoga. I have a fulltime job that allows me free time and means I am relatively free from worry about my rent or my food. (Do you take meds for something? Add that to your list.)

These are really basic things, but I think they're important - if you don't fill up the gas tank with the regular routine stuff, your engine is going to die on everything else.

Figure out when your primetime is. Mine is 5 am on Saturday mornings. @basilone is between 10 pm and 3 am at night. @shoshiwrites does best after 7 pm.

Allow yourself to be flexible. You might have a big project that you're working on, but keep a couple of little things around, too! I know I like bouncing around between a couple of different things, and I've found that really helpful over the last two years so I don't burn out on my one big project. On a related note - Start small. Manageable is commendable.

Deadlines or goals can be helpful in moderation. Mine are usually something like 'I will finish this chapter by date X' or 'I will finish one of these prompts today'. I personally don't like word counts as a goal, though I do use them as a signpost, only because sometimes I feel like the temptation is to just put down words, instead of making your words work for you. A little bit of structure is helpful to me - it may not be for you. Spend some time figuring out what works for you.

Give yourself grace and allow yourself to be silly. Not everything is going to be great. That's okay. It's all practice. You'll learn something all the time.

Sometimes writing…is not writing. Sometimes writing is reading. Reading is excellent practice for becoming a better writer, or just for keeping the mental oil changed. Sometimes writing is running. I took up running when the pandemic started because a) I needed more exercise and b) I wanted to get into Joan's head a little? but also c) That walking or running time was valuable to me because it gave my brain some blank space to brainstorm.

Get yourself a pit crew. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT. I have found that I am more likely to be creative when I am around other creative people who like me and appreciate me, and whom I can encourage, nourish, and appreciate in turn. They don't just care about when my next chapter is coming. They value me as a person, and my mental health, too. My pit crew are folks who give me prompts, or send me pictures of kittens, or who ask about how i'm doing after I post something sad, and I try to return the favor as often as I can. I am very blessed to count a LOT of people on this site as part of my pit crew and I could be part of yours!.

Allow yourself rest. Remember that there are times when you will not be writing - or drawing, or knitting, or whatever other creative thing you're doing.

[insomniamamma]

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

         "You did this on purpose."         "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--"         "You don't have a right hand,"         "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations."         "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm.         "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins.         "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception.         "You sure?" Asks Ezra.         "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade."         "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--"         "No."         "No?"         "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

        Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring.         "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

        Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do.         Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

        He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled.         "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

        Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab?  He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him.         "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you.         "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

        You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid.         Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest.         "Hi Ez,"         "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder.         "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer.         "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes.         "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?"         "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?"         "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-"         "The wrapping was mutual-"         "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head.         "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch.         "Tickles."         "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him.         “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

        "She's late," says Ezra.         "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board,"         "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair.         "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you.         "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair."         "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee.         "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her.         "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully.         "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though."         "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile.         “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big.         "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something."         "I look forward to it," says Ezra.         "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug.         "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit.         "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee.         "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs.         "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit.         "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee.         "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra.         "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?"         "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about."         "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

[lime-gutz]

Mmm so maybe could you do headcanons about the mercs helping out an autistic reader with sebsory overloads? If not that’s totally cool too

AS SOMEONE WHO CAN RELATE TO SENSORY OVERLOADS OFC I'M OKAY WITH WRITING THIS!!!

There wasn't a specification for romantic implications with the mercs so you get some general hcs!!

Engineer:

Engineer is a kind and all around easy to get along with friendly man. He's pretty sociable but often times desires to do some work and experiments of his own so sometimes he'll just speed walk straight on pass you, blueprints in hand, reading them quickly without so much as a glance or smile in your direction, not because he's wanting to be rude but because he's someone who has places to be and he'll talk later when he's done.

Engineer also has to deal with some pretty rambunctious teammates, Soldier, Scout, and Pyro come to mind and as shown before, he's also a super patient man, opting to not be super confrontational in a situation that seems to be tense or aggressive, example being how he had saved Scout from getting his face beaten in by Soldier by being calm and still carrying his friendliness to ease the situation at hand. Or Pyro!! As he's the only one at the base who even understands anything of what Pyro says because he was patient enough to learn.

So with all of that being said, I see him as someone who is very very well equipped to helping you out when you're getting intensely overwhelmed and your senses are overloading. If you're around people and are on the cusp of just crying or about to go into a panic of some sort, Engineer would be the one who would gently place a hand onto your shoulder, masking what's going on with his friendly demeanor and an excuse to have you removed from the situation to calm yourself. He does it in a way as to not draw attention to you or make you feel ashamed or embarrassed. He understands, it happens, he's had to help Pyro with the same situation you were in!

He's sure to be much more soft spoken than usual, asking if you want some water, to be left alone, or if you need some comfort and he will do whatever it is you ask of him to do if it means you can calm yourself.

Pyro:

Pyro is probably not going to catch on as quickly, their mind is constantly thinking about. Everything at once and often tuning in and out of conversations everyone has in general so it's very likely that they will be slow to notice if you're getting wildly overwhelmed.

However! If they were to eventually realize if no one else has before them, how utterly uncomfortable and teary eyed you are Pyro will "scold" his teammates, wagging a finger in there faces and tapping their foot..I put that in quotations because it's not like anyone (other than Engie) can understand them anyways). It's sort of childish, but it could maybe bring you some comfort in a small sense as they lead you away with a huff directed towards their rude teammates.

Scout:

Same deal as Pyro, he's also slow to realize something is amiss with you, his mind also wandering to the many other things he thinks or dreams about.

And like Engineer if he did snap out of his thoughts long enough to notice that you're beginning to look shaky and panicked he attempts to try and steer you away from everyone...although with a lot less grace than Engie, attempting to make whatever is going on isn't a big deal but he keeps running his mouth long enough that eyebrows are raised. But he succeeds anyways and is able to get you somewhere so you could calm yourself down away from it all.

His voice is a little softer when he tries to comfort you in some way. Maybe trying to crack jokes to make the air light instead of filled with dread. His angle is just to try and cheer you up more so!

Soldier:

Oh man. Okay Soldier uh. Let's be frank, he's most definitely not going to ever notice unless someone tells him directly. Soldier has a pretty strong character, a strong and very loud voice, very boisterous. He most likely will not notice that him being so loud combined with maybe some other factors might be too much for you to handle.

So, best course of action is to be very direct with him but explain it in a way he could understand you. If your point gets across, he can better recognize if you're getting uncomfortable!

His form of trying to comfort you is patting your shoulders or back (a little bit too hard but you appreciate his attempt none the less) while he tries to say some encouraging words to you.

Spy:

Spy is actually one of the first mercs to notice even just the slightest sign you're starting to grow uncomfortable. He's meant to be very observant man and he's someone who is very capable of reading body language and is very good at it.

So he's one to be quick to helping you out of a situation before you get to the point of getting extremely overwhelmed. He's quiet, quick, and smooth about it, most likely awaiting an opportunity where no one would notice that he gently grasped your shoulder, nodding his head in a direction that signifies you should follow him, and then the both of you slip away from a potentionally mentally draining situation.

He doesn't offer too much physical comfort, best he'll do is pat your shoulder a few times. But he does offer a listening ear or offers to leave you be, whichever makes you feel more comfortable.

Medic:

Right next to Spy, is also one to quickly notice that you're slowly growing distressed. He is-! Er. Was, a doctor and is still practicing medicine to this very day! He does surgeries on a weekly basis, he just knows a distressed or uncomfortable face when he sees one!

Takes the kind of mix between an Engineer and Spy route of things to help you. He's quickly able to steer the attention or conversation towards himself, in such a way that he gave you an out to hurry to flee and get away to save yourself from literally breaking down from how overwhelmed you are in front of your entire team. You see him give you a very quick wink if you're able to catch his gaze before you leave.

He does check on you later once everything is settled, glass of cold water in hand to hopefully improve your mood some more and offering it to you and if he's free, offers to be your listening ear.

Demoman:

This mostly depends on how drunk he is for him to be considered helpful I suppose you could say.

But! When he isn't just shitfaced drunk, he's quite unsurprisingly helpful as he's also someone who's generally very jovial and friendly. He's also noted to be generally as helpful as he possibly can. So when he sees you getting all shaky, uncomfortable, and panicky due to your sensory overload he's quick to act in a way where nothing is wrong, very nonchalant and keeps the mood light as he slowly pulls you away more and more from the situation until the both of you are good distance away where you could just slip by without a question.

He offers some encouraging words to you, patting your shoulder and ruffling your hair comfortingly and offers you a beer. He just feels like it's it's for you to calm yourself and cheer up.

Sniper:

Sniper can definitely relate to what you're experiencing. He's one of the mercs that's easily able to just immediately tell if you're experiencing sensory overload, your pained expression gives a pang to his heart as he feels immense empathy for you.

He's been in your place time and time again and..so it's time for him to do the thing no one besides his parents had ever done for him when he was on the brink of breaking down. He wordlessly grasps onto your arm, gently in his hold as to not seem harsh to startle you, and then when questions are asked they are plainly ignored as he takes you away from the situation.

He coaches you to take breaths, patting your back and being otherwise silent as he patienly waits for you to gather yourself before the both of you start talking quietly to one another if need be.

Heavy:

Heavy also understands what you're a feeling, although, he has worked passed this long ago that doesn't mean he can't help but feel some empathy undertones for you as you look so distressed.

Heavy is very very quiet when going to remove you from the situation you're in, his big heavy hand grasping your shoulders as gently as he can possibly muster as he knows how utterly easy it is just to hurt you accidentally, and he does not want that. He whispers for you to please come with him, not wanting any unwanted attention to be thrown towards you as he knows you definitely don't want that. Once you comply he's leads you away.

Heavy very gently pats your shoulder and back, talking to you quietly as to bring you some comfort as you cry and try to regain your composure. If you are crying, he doesn't try and make you stifle it in anyway, encouraging you to instead let it all out.

Once you're all cried out or feeling a little better, Heavy offers to get you some water or tea, and then offers if you would like to stay and either read with him, or have him read to you out loud to further bring more comfort if you're someone who appreciates just being read to as comfort.

[agent-cupcake]

just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁

IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry

Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.

Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.

The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.

As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses. 

Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.

For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.

Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader. 

Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.

Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.

[thetriggeredhappy]

yo whats good @engiespyweek this is a day late but like dont worry abt it

day 2: hurt / comfort

(warnings for injury, specifically from burns. takes place around Robots Time)

-

Back before the robots, they were expected to work regular hours. Normal days. Practically a nine-to-five, plus a couple of hours most days, but never too long after sundown—and unless they had a mission off-base, they’d get weekends off. It was the most organized war any of them had ever been a part of, to be honest. And it was taxing, sure, the pain and bloodshed, but at least according to Scout it still beat working in food service.

And it wasn’t even all that scary half the time—before the robots, the team was invincible in most senses of the word. It would take some extremely particular situations to kill them, situations they were rarely anywhere near. A doctor on staff, bars in town and a full liquor cabinet on base, a pay grade that few of them even dreamed of, it was a good place to be in their lives. They considered themselves lucky, most days.

But that was before the robots.

The sun was setting over wherever the hell they were. They were going on their second day here, which was usually about how long they spent in one place before they had to move again, following some fickle change of the wind to intercept the next few waves of automatons.

They were exhausted. They didn’t have breaks, truth be told, and only sometimes got to sleep—mostly on the drive to their next destination, sometimes woken up during the night by the distant metallic clanging that functioned as the trumpets of war. Modern era, and all.

Medic was truly running on his last legs. He half operated his infirmary out of the back of one of the trucks they used to transport their equipment, not seeing reason to bother unpacking most days. Soldier was in a tizzy himself, constantly checking and rechecking their supplies, inventory being the only job left out of the multitude he’d had on base before and therefore being one he did near-constantly, and his consensus seemed to be that they were running low on... well, everything. Raiding abandoned warehouses for ammunition and guns just wasn’t cutting it anymore. They’d started to send some of the mercs out hunting for scrap metal when they had the time, and the Engineer was left to work practically around the clock trying to feed it to dispensers and restock to have at least enough to be prepared for battle, and Heavy tended to take over when he absolutely needed to sleep.

But then there were the mercenaries who didn’t have much to do but sit and stew. Sniper mostly took to perching alone somewhere he could watch for the distant dust clouds kicked up by the tanks. Scout ran laps around the perimeter of wherever they were posted up, and on a couple of occasions the two of them were the only warning the team got before the robots showed up. Pyro fretted, for the most part, would sweep by the busy members of the team with something to eat and a supportive pat on the arm. But even then, it was obvious the rest were going stir-crazy. Wanted to help, to take some of the weight back, to help share the load if they could.

This was about the only way Spy could help.

Engineer was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but the fatigue fought against his need to eat the tin full of... something. Meat, some kind of sauce. Spy had cooked it, since they apparently had a stove squirreled away somewhere in this particular warehouse, rations, and the team needed something ‘real’ to eat by his measure. The Engineer managed to keep awake, keep shoveling food into his mouth. Distantly, he understood that it tasted very good, and it overcame the nausea he’d been increasingly plagued with ever since all of this started.

The food was one comfort. The warm weight of Spy leaned against his back was another, the man leaned against him as he ate. Outside there was a particularly vibrant sunset happening, that was a third one, the way the light poured through the window briefly driving away a sort of bone-deep paranoia about darkness. About fear. Apparently that was one reason his father always tried to work with the big garage door of the shop open—being in the sun from time to time was important for all types of health. Or, as Spy put it, he needed to get out of his terrible little machinery lair from time to time or else one day the team would find he’d begun transforming into some sort of mole man.

It made him laugh. He missed laughing, he realized.

Once he had some food in his system, some calm, some time to sit in a position other than bent over a drafting table—and, hell, maybe the sun helped too—he started feeling remarkably more like a human being, started relaxing in increments. Started noticing little things. Dust mites lingering in the last light up above their heads. Distant talking, the distinctive laugh of Demo, Soldier barking something in reply. The sound of Spy taking a pull from his cigarette, quiet enough that he’d only really hear it this close. Quiet motion, like fiddling almost, which struck him as odd. Spy wasn’t much for fiddling and fidgeting. Broad, sweeping, dramatic gestures, those he did every time he got a good excuse—but not fidgeting. It was enough to draw his head up from where it was hanging, casting eyes back over his shoulder.

Spy wasn’t looking at him, apparently focused. “What’re you up to, there?” he asked, suddenly made aware of how rough his throat was. Probably from the near-constant full-volume shouting followed by stretches of silence he got up to these days.

“Simple first aid,” Spy said entirely too casually. So casually, in fact, that it took the Engineer a few seconds to realize what he’d even said.

“What?” he asked, turning more fully to look at Spy, at which point he blanched.

Spy had shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up neatly a short way past his elbows and taken off his gloves and watch, and appeared to be almost done cleaning up and bandaging his left arm, having not started yet on the right one. All up and down his visible skin, and in particular across his palms and wrist, there were a series of mild to severe burns, speckles of dark red and black patching up his forearms, and the Engineer could immediately identify them as being electrical burns, not heat ones.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked, deeply startled.

A huff of a laugh from Spy. “Mon ami, I go onto the battlefield and am expected to attack mechanical men with a metal blade,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Electrocution is par for the course, I’m afraid.”

“You really oughta... find some way around that,” the Engineer said carefully. “Rubber hilt, or...”

“Most often I can only even tell I’ve caused enough damage to take down any given robot when the shock happens,” Spy shrugged. “It is not terribly painful, especially compared to gunfire. They simply begin to stack up after a while.”

A careful nod from the Engineer, even if it didn’t quite sit right with him. “Want me to help treat those?” he asked, nodding at where Spy was clearly having a bit of difficulty with bandaging his wrist one-handed.

“Our medical supplies are being too regularly depleted even besides superfluous healing of minor injuries, and as much as I would appreciate a moment sat beside one of your dispensers, I’m afraid it would not be very much in the spirit of teamwork to accept your offer, Laborer. If the remainder of our dreary little group is not allowed to accost the dispenser unnecessarily, neither am I, oui?” Spy asked, tone light.

That was one thing he’d started to learn about Spy, especially as of late. Lying and stealing were things he was well acquainted with, but never for something he considered important. To get on other people’s nerves, to get information maybe, but not something important on a whim. Getting on everyone’s nerves was a different beast than intentionally sabotaging them.

“Well,” the Engineer said, still not quite feeling right about it all. “If not that, I can at least lend a hand with wrapping those up. I know a thing or two about getting shocked. Ain’t a fun predicament to be in.”

Only a moment’s hesitation before Spy shrugged, turning to face him, and the Engineer picked up the salve and bandaging and set to work.

This was more his element. Practical problems. Practical solutions. None of the overarching dread, the waiting for the next disaster, the not quite knowing what to do with himself in the miliseconds before the next chore, the next job, the next drive. Just wrapping a wound. Just fixing a problem.

Distantly, there was the sound of something clattering, Demo cheering. The sun was now out of view, and he heard the sound of lights buzzing to life across the area. The light was getting low, and cold was starting to settle into place, more than welcome after yet another sweltering desert day. The smell of hot metal and sweat faded with each breeze that passed through, leaving only the smell of chilly night air, fresh and welcome. By the time it got dim enough to start making him squint to see properly, and he started to wonder whether he should just push through or get a light from somewhere, he realized he was done.

But instead of a twitchiness, an itch to find something else, the urge to keep moving and to find the next thing he needed to work on, he just felt satisfied. Clean bandages, neat wrappings. A vast improvement over before. And when he looked up to see how Spy felt about it all, the man was smiling, just a little, just enough to see even in how dim the room was.

“...What’s the smirk about?” he asked, feeling a bit embarrassed, as if he was missing something.

“Nothing,” Spy said easily, “I suppose I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

A pause, during which the Engineer realized Spy was right. The tension was gone, the ache in his head was fading into a simple weight, and the nausea had settled into nothingness, leaving him relaxed, steady. He blinked.

“Apologies if I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” Spy said after a few moments of that stunned silence, searching his face. “It’s just that for the last several weeks you’ve been stomping around with the third most sour expression I’ve ever seen on you, and it seemed as though nobody else was going to bother stepping in any time soon. I thought that perhaps food and fresh air and polite company may remedy things somewhat, and you seemed determined to only interact with us when you deem it productive.”

“You burned yourself just to get me to sit in one place for a while?” he asked, taken aback.

“Oh, no, non, these burns are truly fairly standard by now,” Spy waved off easily, carefully pulling back on his gloves and watch over the bandages, “I simply prefer to tend to them on my own, the majority of the time. Non, simply a convenient excuse to need your help.”

A pause. “Of all the ridiculous things,” he marveled, blinking at Spy.

In the darkness, he could only barely make out the way Spy’s mouth ticked up into a smirk, watching as he rolled his sleeves back down neatly and reached for his suit jacket. “Well, believe it or not, Laborer, I have been known to stoop to such lows as doing what you call ‘ridiculous things’,” he said, doing his jacket up in an easy motion in the same moment that he rose to his feet, “when I find them to be the only way I can possibly break through to ridiculous men.”

He only had time to sputter over the comment for a second before a gloved hand found his chin, tilting his head up just enough for Spy to lay a kiss soundly to either cheek, and only had time to sputter over that for a second before Spy was snickering and cloaking, a puff of smoke in his wake as he disappeared into the increasing night.

His face felt hot, and he felt that restless energy again, but for an entirely different reason than before, because he wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure cheek kissing was the sort of thing you greeted someone with when you only meant it in a friendly sort of way, and his brain was far too scrambled to remember it properly just then.

Well. Now he had something to think about besides the robots, at least. Damn shame it couldn’t be a nice, neat, practical problem, but despite his best efforts, he really couldn’t find it in him to mind.

Oh, damn it all.

[getfuckedstayfucked]

callout post for aineedhelp dumbposting majimaguro

@dumbposting @majimaguro since you've been harassing my friends I figured I'd lay this out for you in no uncertain terms. Kyle, if you read this, scroll down to the bottom where there's a screenshot of Charlie literally telling you to die.

Hi Charlie. I deadass had to make a tumblr for this bullshit because your lying has really gotten excessive. I mean really? Telling people you’re 23? Telling people that you were groomed by us? Telling people we forced you to ditch your friends when all you’d do is complain to us about how uncomfortable x person would make you with their requests for sexual roleplay, or their aggressive demeanor, or their shipping wants? Telling people you were abused by us when you clearly have done this more than twice to different friend groups and when one group falls apart you move on to the next and start your predatory cycle all over again???

I can see you do this for every friend group you make, no matter who it is, where they are. You know how I see this? Because you are saying that we did what you told us your old friends were doing - Jasper, Robin, and Merc. You’ve moved the narrative that THEY were sexually abusive groomers/manipulators over to us since your new group of friends doesn’t know about them outside of the parts those new friends (your dear friends who never hurt you ever even though you consistently complain about said new friends behind their backs!) play and now, suddenly, WE were sexually abusive groomers/manipulators because you milked the attention and pity you could get out of us over the awful things you said about Jasper, Robin, and Merc, and in the process you eventually abused the two people who had the patience to stick out that behaviour SO MUCH and for SO LONG that you alienated them. Once they were over how you treated them, then suddenly, they were the bad guys. And you wouldn’t stop rocking the boat because you needed to have your endless little baby tantrum. Now that you’ve pulled the trigger, you can’t unshoot that bullet.

Newsflash? When these people told you THEIR BOUNDARIES - something that amazingly seems to only be valid when you do it - you got pissed at them. When people told you THEY COULDN’T HANDLE SOMETHING - like, oh, you know, detailed descriptions of severe animal trauma/death, or being told repetitively and graphically that you were going to kill yourself/how you were going to do it, they were suddenly awful. Well, you know what? That is textbook manipulation, to use a phrase you seem so fond of. Guilting people for having boundaries and making them feel bad for drawing lines because they want to have a healthy relationship with their friends isn’t bad, you just don’t like it because it means you can no longer do what you want or treat people like crap without repercussions. 

You are a cruel person. You don’t care about anybody but yourself. You are a self-serving, self-driven, emotionless asshole that knows how to twist situations to be in your favor because your favorite tactic is to divide people up from one another so they have less and less outside views of what your treatment is actually like. It takes a lot of practice to be able to do something like you do for so long and so aggressively so I imagine you’ve been doing this for years. You hook someone - or multiple someones - in by being nice and personable and funny and relatable, then you destroy your friend groups by pitting people against one another and when you’ve isolated the people you’re obsessing over, you flip the switch and start to abuse them in private.

And you know what? You are not the victim in this narrative. You are just another abusive jerk who knows you can get that attention from someone somewhere as long as you twist the narrative to fit your ‘I’ve been abused my friends all treat me horribly’ angle. And you know what? I’m sick of you. I’m sick of how you treat my friends, I’m sick of how you treat people in general. You make me sick and if you’re proud of that, that’s not a badge of honor or pride. That means that you are exactly like your father. 

You don’t get to be out here and be like ‘oh no! it was me who was hurt by these people!’ when you're the one harassing them with your nasty, miserable anon hate even though they’ve blocked you time and time again. 

Steven showed me the conversation where you exploded at him for saying he needed a moment, because apparently it’s fucked up to not be able to handle graphic depictions of an animal’s death, and somehow saying that he couldn’t handle that in that moment was a personal attack and he was betraying you by being an unsupportive friend? People have triggers, hunty, you aren’t god’s gift to this earth and you aren’t the only person to have those! HE tried to set his boundaries and what did you do? You shit all over them. You only care about boundaries if they’re your own and if anybody else has one they try to set with you they’re suddenly awful and someone to be tossed aside. 

And you know what else? You forcing Sam to deal with your maladjusted stalking all the time because you’re out here harassing him via tumblr dot com isn't cute. You’re entirely, creepily obsessed with him and irrationally upset that he stood up for himself and got tired of you treating him like your own personal emotional punching-bag. You are a pathetic, vengeful little person who has no life and nothing to do but troll the internet for victims and people you can trick into giving you sympathy until you inevitably wring them dry too and then you abandon them because they won’t give you what you want anymore.

Go fuck yourself. Get fucked, stay fucked. You complained to us and cried to us about Merc and Jasper and Robin and how they either wouldn’t stop bothering you for sexual RP or wouldn’t stop guilting you or pushing you in that direction, or how Robin wouldn’t stop trying to force you to say what she wanted you to say, and now you’re LITERALLY saying that about Steve and Sam? You are not. The fucking. Victim. Here. You are the orchestrator to an amazingly convoluted drama that rotates around you and you alone and I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you and I’m sick of having to hear about the lies you’re posting about my friends.

By the way? You aren’t 23. You are 27 by now! De-aging yourself to seem younger and more vulnerable only works when people don’t know you’re actually older - which, by the way, is SUPER creepy of you to do because it gets you closer to a younger demographic and endears you to them because oh! wow! You’re young and abused just like them! Do you know how fucked up it is to position yourself closer to younger, less experienced, vulnerable people like that? Do you know how fucked up it is to try and net those poor kids with your sob stories and how these ‘bad oldew peopow abewsed yew uwu’ even though that wasn’t the case? It puts you in a position of power and it gives you the reigns in any interactions you have with anybody younger than you and that is creepy and disgusting and you are creepy and disgusting for doing it, especially since your tumblr is filled with a mixture of sfw and 18+ content with zero 18+ follower requirement.

And you know what-- in the same vein, you use your being autistic as a sob story point to make it sound like one more way that you’ve been taken advantage of, but in reality you’re actually the one out here taking advantage of those around you and you’re being ableist while you do it? Wow. Wowiee wow wow.

You infantilize autistic people and say in the process that, in a blanket statement, ALL autistic people can’t fend for themselves or see anything coming at them from a mile away. On top of that, you shit on other autistic people’s special interests? Do you have any idea how many autistic people are out there with special interests focused around kid’s shows, or cartoons in general, or anime, or fandoms? No? Well, here’s a clue: there’s a lot of us (and yes, I am autistic, and yes, I do have special interests involving anime and fandoms, and no, I’m not a predator and I am DEFINITELY not the one out here creepily de-aging themselves to endear themselves to younger people like you are) with special interests ranging from anything from MLP to mushrooms to My Hero Academia (which is, for the record, one of Steve’s special interests, which you shit on him for, you ableist fuck) to Stephen King’s IT and you don’t get to say it’s predatory to have special interests in these areas!!!!!

You are not only perpetuating stereotypes about autistic people but you’re encouraging them because these stereotypes suit you and your current narrative! You’re using the same exact arguments that neurotypicals use! And you know what ELSE? Way to suggest that autistic people who have special interests that aren’t ‘adult’ are predators, too, you nasty little weasel. That’s the kind of narrative that gets autistic people killed!!! How selfish ARE you?

But wait, we really, really aren’t done here. I would really like to address your obsession with accusing people of being groomers and/or predators. 

YOU LITERALLY ROLEPLAYED EDDIE KASPBRACK. YOU ROLEPLAYED HIM AS AGE SIXTEEN AND YOU HAVE DONE SO IN A SEXUAL AND SEXUAL-ADJACENT MANNER. YOU SMUT ROLEPLAYED SEXUAL CONTENT ON A CHARACTER THAT WAS SIXTEEN. YOU ALSO ROLEPLAY AS SHERRY BIRKIN FROM RESIDENT EVIL. SHE IS TEN. YOU CAN’T SAY SHIT. YOU. CAN’T. SAY. SHIT. YOU WROTE SMUT AS UNDERAGE CHARACTERS WHILE USING REAL LIFE UNDERAGE FACECLAIMS AND NOW YOU’RE OUT HERE SAYING THAT SIMPLY WATCHING THESE SHOWS AND BEING INTO THESE FANDOMS IS PEDOPHILIC? I don’t think so. I really, really do not think so.

Saying stuff like ‘reblogging anime posts or gifs or art is child porn’ also belittles and undermines actual CSA/pedophilia victims which is one more tally on the list of fucked up shit you’ve done. Way to be one of those people out there who do their best to divert valuable time and resources that could be spent on actual CSA victims instead of fictional fucking people.

This is a two-way street. You rant about how this is a 13+ site and how adults are responsible for kids in their spaces WHEN THEY HAVE ALREADY GONE TO REASONABLE LENGTHS TO PREVENT MINORS FROM GETTING AT THEIR CONTENT, but you’re always going on about getting high and doing drugs and talking about onlyfans which is AN ADULT SUBSCRIPTION WEBSITE GEARED TOWARDS PEOPLE WHO MAKE PORN OR FETISH CONTENT. You have absolutely ZERO 18+ content warning or follower requirement on your blog! Which is made creepier by the fact that you’ve de-aged yourself by a whole four years, you’re making yourself out to be some kind of abused child who was manipulated by older people, and you’re trying to speak for children. It’s wack. 

For the record, being mentally ill is not an excuse for any of this at all whatsoever. If you hurt someone and you are mentally ill that is still on you. It is on you to learn to live with mental illness and not hurt those around you. When your shitty actions give someone else trauma, that is your fault, and it does have an effect on them, and it does hurt them. Fuck off with that 'no accountability' bullshit you're peddling. That's not how life works. Your actions have affected those around you and it takes a massive amount of willful ignorance to go around acting like you don't fucking know that already, especially considering that other people’s mental illnesses hurt you-- unless you were lying to us about that, too. 

Get some fucking help and get out of our collective DMs........ Or don’t and get high like you always do instead of accepting responsibility for your actions, Mr. 'I'm lucid enough to be able to blame my mental illness for my own behaviour when that bs wouldn't even hold up in court'. Whatever.

I’m done with your shit.

Here's some receipts. Kyle, whoever you are, I suggest you run the fuck away before they start doing to you what they've done to Steve and Sam. Good luck having a friend who non-jokingly says they wish you would die because that is extraordinarily fucked up. 

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Some tea about how you were fed up with the people treating you like shit instead of you being forced to ditch these people 

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