#I am weak for several things

[senditothemoonn]

This started as me wanting to draw them as old men and kind of spiralled from there…

[skunkes]

talon's issue is he never wants to be treated like a child ever again but is always looking for community/family and every kind gesture or attempt to to help him is for some reason interpreted by him as being patronizing, belittling, but in the familial, Parent to Child, Authority to Child way. dis is why its difficult to get anywhere with him. He himself still sees himself as Person With No Agency, Meant to Be Harmed and Talked Down To

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 3

Them having Stone Monkey (apparently purely on instinct) constantly scratching while being introduced to the troop was pretty cool, since that's a legitimate deescalation behavior in monkeys. Something about how revealing stress acts as a bonding behavior and makes it less likely they'll be attacked. Humans do it too, kind of, when they rub at their hands or shoulders or neck (etc. etc.) when nervous or overwhelmed. ("Empathize with me! I am very stressed!").

Also something-something instinctive behaviors aside Stone Monkey being excited/overwhelmed/maybe a little overstimulated and choosing "ESCALATION!!!" as his response to all of that. He thinks the troop being scared of him is hilarious. He's scratching the fur off his arms but he's also going to get right up in your face anyway. Cautiously join him in admiring his cool new rock? He is going to play-lunge and also scream. Absolutely amazing. The troop has no idea what to do with these mixed signals. This kid is a menace and I love him.

Six Ears even gets in on the scratching behavior occasionally in the background, which might be because Stone Monkey actively terrorizing literally everyone trying to be playful (because he has the social skills of a literal, actual rock) is stressing Six Ears right out or it could be an attempt to deescalate on Stone Monkey's behalf. Monkey version of following in his new friend's wake throwing apologetic grimace-smiles at everyone. Possibly it's both. Point is: They included these behaviors and it's very fun.

You can also tell it worked because in just the journey to the cave you watch the four generals' views on Stone Monkey go from "uncanny valley horror entity lurking in the forest probably to kill us all" to "what a rude little kid >:| Emphasis on RUDE."

And, okay, I admit, I have softened my stance on the four generals. Somewhat. They seem to actually be taking their jobs seriously now. Maybe Episode 1 was a wake-up call and they won't utterly fail to notice an incursion until it's in the heart of their territory again. I don't want to go too crazy, but maybe they'll even be able to even muster a coherent response! Good for them.

Should probably still not be managing children, though.

Speaking of, Six Ears's increasing despair watching the train wreck in motion that was the four generals fumbling hard in giving Stone Monkey his very first etiquette lesson after he finally settled down and seemed willing to hear them out is also very relatable and hilarious. He knows they failed the test. Stone Monkey is definitely never going to listen to them again. They blew it. RIP Flower Fruit Mountain.

Stone Monkey does check in with Six Ears when he decides the generals are useless about explaining though, and that's pretty cute. He trusts his friend :) He also definitely internalizes that thing about having to ask to leave the presence of the king, so at least they managed to teach him some manners. ONE manners. A single manner. (Spoiler: They immediately regret this.)

But hey! This time Six Ears is left entirely to his own devices and still manages to get caught smack in the middle of enemy action. Not the Generals' fault for once! Six Ears just attracts this kind of thing, I guess.

3/3 Six Ears is Damsel-ed, but only 2/3 it's the adults' fault. The tally develops.

[fruitbatvampiresociety]

Nothing quite like a health crisis to kickstart leaving a depressive slump and wanting to do All the Activities Ever

Theres only a minor problem with this of course (the health crisis)

[gothedrals]

Look I am a fashion girlie I love clothes I love hitting up the goodwill and getting my student discount but I am also overwhelmed by excess and marie kondo is my hero and it feels so good to get rid of things I just don’t wear

[fisheito]

Do you... do you... draw professionally. Because you're just so good and you are inspiring me to keep trying! Manifest those mental images!! Learn to draw yakumo getting railed, and other Normal reasons to revitalize one's previous interest in drawing

u think i could draw professionally??! 😲🥺🥺 i am so flatter..... i think ur draws are so scrorchy (very enjoyable] so if i can help u have inspire 😭😭😭😭😭

omfg if u learn to draw yakumo getting railed i'll probably explode/implode/evaporate/change states of matter in a sudden, violent way

bc. i cannot do it. fun fact: when i read y'all's collab fic of dante's sex ed i felt the urge to draw 3 specific panels for it. but as i put the stylus to the screen, i realised that SEVERAL ppl would have to be naked for the drawings to be storycally accurate. so even tho they were comedy panels, my hand... it betrayed me. it was like trying to draw porn but i blink and suddenly everyone's in 14 levels of victorian extra-garment. F...H?OISTED BY MY OWN UNHORNY

so yes. pls. i would love to see more of your contributions. the very special contributions that only u can make 😂

[rigberts]

Denizens of the Lowest Tier of Comedy

Puns

Alliteration

Pretending not to know how to pronounce Worcestershire sauce

Pretending certain words sound inherently disgusting or off-putting (ie, moist)

Explaining the entire plot of a Simpsons episode that is somehow relevant to the conversation

Attempting to adapt a text post for use in a real life conversation on the fly

A skit in a short form video social media format where it's just a guy talking to themselves but distinguished as a different "character" by the video being mirrored, or a cheap wig, hat or towel on their head, and if you think about what the process of filming the video looked like you get hit by a figurative tsunami of secondhand embarrassment

[plethorawrites]

TW: Mentions of dub con/non consensual intimacy or coercion. (From his past lovers, not reader) (A/N this is my favorite thing I've ever writtenreader

TW: NSFW content.

2.5k word count

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Okay, this could be a bit of a hot take, but I am a firm believer in soft Jason Todd during sex.

Especially at the beginning of a relationship. He died young and his only sexual experiences were with Talia, who groomed him, Essence, who he believed betrayed him for the longest time and maybe Artemis, (Idk if that's canon? Can someone confirm or deny?) who was probably pretty rough given her arrogant, abrasive, and violent personality.

So, when he dates you, he's more than just hesitant. He's pretty much terrified. But he's used to hiding his feelings because they make him feel vulnerable and weak, which he hates. When you start tearing down his walls, he starts to panic. He likes spending time with you, thinking about you, kissing you. Especially that last part.

But it never goes very far because he always pulls away when things get more heated. Like, you in his lap, him nearly fully hard before quickly picking you up by your hips and moving you to the other side of the couch before standing up, clearing his throat and leaving.

It takes over two months before he feels comfortable enough to even tell you the reason he doesn't want to be intimate and the only reason he did is because you started to feel like he wasn't attracted to you or you had something wrong.

He rushed to reassure you that wasn't the case and finally told you the —partial— truth. He had scars he didn't want you seeing, he had bad prior experiences, he felt like he was being used almost every time he slept with someone and couldn't stand that feeling because it made him physically ill.

It took several weeks after that to slowly adapt to that realization and discuss how to make that feeling go away. Taking things slow, making it last, keeping it gentle, seemed to be the best way. And it was somehow perfect and tortuous all at once. He let you ride his thigh, at first. That was the first time he'd ever allowed any form of intimacy between you too. Partially because you looked desperate and he felt bad and partially because he genuinely wanted to see what you looked like while doing that.

Not to mention, he was still too afraid to be the one doing anything. So, it was best if he just helped.

His grip was firm, his eyes glued to you. You whispered more praise in those few minutes than he had heard from anyone in months all together, maybe even the year. He felt good. He was helping you. You appreciated it. You appreciated him. He was attractive. You were thanking him for giving this to you. Practically begging for his help.

And it made his heart clench, not to mention his teeth. There were other forms of physical intimacy after that, still only to you, because he didn't want to risk showing his scars or get that nausea in his stomach again during sex. You'd allow him pretty much anything and everything, if it meant he was more comfortable with you and your body. Sliding his hand under your shirt while you slept over (quite literally just falling asleep after eating dinner together) brushing his knuckles against your breasts, hesitant to touch them, but finding comfort in it all at once.

You assured him three different times—before he did it, when his hand was just barely under your shirt, and when his fingers first tugged at your nipples. It's when he's finally a bit more comfortable, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade that you hum and roll over. Your hair finds his hair, stroking it and he presses his lips to your neck, almost on instinct. You let him kiss lower and lower, gently guiding his head towards your breasts, all while repeating more and more praise, reminding him he's under no obligation to do anything, ever, if he doesn't feel comfortable.

But he does. With you, he does.

It leads to him kissing and sucking at your chest until he loses track of time and you're painfully wet. That was plenty, you promised. He doesn't need to do anymore than that. But he does, because he doesn't want to take his hands off your soft skin. So you gently drag his hand down, keeping the other firmly on his shoulder while you stare into his eyes, as his fingers slide through your slick. A sharp inhale makes him hold his breath. The other women he'd been with only ever wanted the most physical part of sex, never to do something like this. You were so soft and warm, assuring him he was doing fine while guiding his hand until you eventually couldn't keep looking at him and had to close your eyes. He liked that. A lot.

The way your hand moved, letting him do what he wanted while you gripped the sheets. He listened so well, trying to make you happy or just keep making those sounds—his name falling from your lips. If you wanted his fingers to move faster, they would. If you said deeper, they were. If you said to curl them, they'd curl. You were so... captivating, he had found. Usually, he was too in his head, so focused on how long until it was over that he never even considered being able to enjoy it.

But he wasn't rushing with you. He didn't want you to stop saying his name. When you finally came down from the high he'd brought you, your first words were a question, asking if he was alright. When he nodded, you started telling him how perfect he was, how good that felt. He liked that almost as much as your moans.

Yet, you felt guilty, never taking care of him. He never asked. In fact he repeatedly denied the offer until you chose to stop asking rather than upset him.

Until one day, when you were on the couch, leaning against him as he read, your hand perched on his thigh. He didn't know if it was the fact that you were wearing such a low cut tank top or how you'd been absent mindedly rubbing circles around his sweatpants while reading over his shoulder, but he was worked up. It took twice as long to finish a page with your motion making his mind go to places it shouldn't.

He was worried, about you rejecting his desires, or something like that. Something mocking or doing something that was uncomfortable. People had done that before, eliciting physical reactions he didn't want to feel. But he wanted to try, to feel you on him the way he'd felt you.

His hands grabbed yours and when you looked up in confusion, he just gently and silently slid your hand a bit further on his leg, towards his erection. He'd absolutely taken care of himself, and often, because it was a quick stress relief that left him tired before bed. But lately, the more he did it, the more his mind wandered to you and that, for some reason, made him finish a lot harder than usual.

Your hand brushed against it and you asked if he was sure before pressing a kiss to the side of his shoulder and sinking down to the carpet below, on your knees in between his legs. Running your hands up and down his thighs in a soothing sort of gesture both calmed him and felt like torture all at once. But it only lasted a little bit, while you promised him he was in control, because that's what he needed to hear.

That he could say no at any time if he was even the slightest bit uncomfortable. When you slid his boxers down, his heart jumped in panic. Of course you noticed the scars on his thighs instantly. But ignored them, because he still hardly ever showed them aside for occasionally wearing short sleeves. You were silent and he was scared but all you'd said at last, was that he was pretty.

"Pretty."

That word had never been used to describe him. Not before his death and certainly not after. Even the feeling of your gentle kiss on his skin and your thumb swiping over the top had him gripping the pillows, still stressed. Your hand took his, squeezing it when your lips finally enveloped him, his length disappearing into your mouth. His breaths were shaky, his hold on your hand getting painfully tight.

He felt like he was in pure bliss, his mouth falling open to pant as his head fell back against the couch practically begging you to keep going. The feeling of your hums had done him in. And his moans, loud and tough, getting whiny towards the end as the euphoria wore off assured you he was fine. He slid his boxers and sweats up quickly, his cheeks red, from the act not embarrassment (he'd say and lie) but you just laid your head on his knee, staring at him, asking how he was.

Good was an understatement. Great, too. Incredible. Amazing. None of those compliments came out. He couldn't speak, just looked back up at the ceiling as his breathing came back under control.

All you'd done in response was tell him he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to, climbing back into the couch and wrapping your arms around his midsection, resting your head against him. You stayed like that—silent. The only question you dared to ask was if he'd want that again and his response was a kiss.

He realized after that, how truly deeply he loved you.

A feeling he was so unused to, he couldn't pinpoint it for the longest time. You felt safe. Maybe that's what made him want to finally seal the deal with you. Or maybe it was the way his body physically ached in a way that no amount of help from his own hand or your mouth could fix.

Something about it was missing.

He wanted the lights off. You had accepted that, but told him you'd really rather see him. He caved almost instantly, because as afraid he was of you seeing him, he wanted to see you too bad to care enough. You were undressed first, naturally. He'd seen that before, in bed while touching you, or just as you changed it got in the shower. He wasn't any less smitten, still obsessed with every inch of exposed skin. It took a few deep breaths and reassuring words before he was willing to unbutton his shirt.

In fact, he couldn't. He'd asked you to do it.

That felt oddly more intimate to him. Your fingers moved slowly, undoing them one by one, a bit more of his chest exposed with each button undone. You had seen a lot of his scars, after he got more comfortable wearing shorts or shirts that showed his arms. He still never revealed his chest and when you did, he looked away, his teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek to keep from tears brimming in his eyes as he heard the small gasp leave your lips.

He almost jumped when you touched one, your fingertips feeling light as a feather. Tears kept pricking but he refused to let them fall. He was being vulnerable but he couldn't allow himself to be that weak. Your other hand found his cheek, pulling his face to look at your face, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip as you pursed your own, tightly to keep from any strangled sounds escaping.

Your voice was equally as emotional when you eventually spoke, telling him in a shaky voice that he was still pretty. Those words or perhaps how your voice cracked when you said them, broke him. A tear slipped down his cheek and you were quick to brush it away with your thumb and kissed his cheek softly, confessing that you loved him.

He couldn't stand it anymore.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your neck letting himself breathe for what felt like the first time all over again. A real breath. One without any heaviness attached to it because you'd stolen all the stones from his walls one by one. You repeated it, so he knew it wasn't a mistake or accident and he started peppering short kisses to your neck, all the way to your lips, which he kissed deeply, his bare chest pressed entirely around your own.

Your arms were around his neck, in his hair, pulling him closer and his hands started to wander, desperately craving to have you without any barriers anymore. He stared at you, or at least tried to, when he felt your velvety walls surround him, clenching tightly when his hips were finally flushed with yours. His jaw was locked tightly until you started running your hand up and down his spine, telling him he could take a moment, if he needed it.

He did.

Not because he was nervous, since for once, he wasn't, but because he wanted to stare at you in this state and revel in your feeling for a moment more. He did, until it became painful for both of you and every thrust he made was slow and deep, staring into each other's eyes, taking full breaths in at the same time for several moments until his pace was quick, along with your breathing.

Your praise never stopped, even when it wasn't fully coherent and ended in a moan or whine. His own praise for you wasn't lacking either, telling you how perfect you felt, how badly he wanted you, how much he appreciated you waiting on him because he really was enjoying it, probably more than he'd enjoyed anything in his entire life.

When you're both a mess, panting and quiet from the feelings that washed over you both, his body goes limp, laying on top of you. Your hands rub his shoulders reassuringly, although slowly and his hands hold either side of your head, fingers threaded into your hair as he pressed his forehead against yours, feeling your breath on him. It was silent, until he eventually lifted his head to admire you, your stray hairs sticking to your face, your puffy lips, your blown pupils.

He said it back, at that moment.

He loved you too and couldn't stand letting you think anything else for a single moment more.

You didn't respond, but your lips curled into a grin and a heavy sigh left your chest, your hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face and lean up to kiss him.

He rolled you over, causing a slight squeal from you, letting you lay on him so he wasn't crushing you any longer. You rested your head against his chest, silently tracing his scars as he messed with your hair, the moonlight streaming in through the window.

His voice eventually broke the comfortable silence when he whispered to you, asking you to "Say it again."

You didn't hesitate to tell him you'd "Say it as many times as he wanted to hear it."

With his lips twitching, the slight wit he always possessed came back, questioning what you'd do if he "Wanted to hear it forever."

Like before, your response was immediate when you replied, telling him you'd "Say it forever, then."

[farahkamal]

🚨🚨‏Please Dont Skip-

-Don’t Ignore💔😡

-Help me😭💔

Hello, I am Farah Kamal from Gaza, I am 21 years old, a medical student at Al-Azhar University, we are a family of 5 people, I am talking to you from the midst of genocide, famine and displacement😭😭, before the war we had a beautiful house, a school where driving was taught and a big supermarket, our life was full of happiness, security and comfort. 💔Now after the war, unfortunately, 😭we have lost everything. We lost our house in the blink of an eye, the school burned down, 💔the supermarket was destroyed and my father lost his source of income. 😭Now we are homeless, without money, and when we were displaced from the north to the south, our belongings and clothes were taken and my father was taken at the checkpoint and we do not know anything about him😭😭. The most difficult thing is that we were left without my father. 💔💔There is no one who can work to provide for our needs. My older brother is now in high school and we cannot provide him with books or buy them, 😭💔and I cannot complete my studies in the Faculty of Medicine because of the high fees😭. My little brother needs clothes and healthy food, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and has become severely weak in her eyesight and we cannot provide her with treatment. 😭I cannot describe to you the extent of our suffering at this time, as there is no healthy food or clean water and fear and danger do not go away around us and we are exposed to death at any time. 😭💔We tried to travel, but unfortunately they were demanding that each person pay $7,000 and we did not have this amount to travel and escape death and bombing.😭💔 We are still suffering to this day. I hope that you will help me provide treatment for my mother and complete my studies in medicine and provide the necessities of life for my family, whether food, drink, clothes or shelter. 💔💔And to get out as soon as possible if the Rafah crossing is opened because then we will have to pay $ 28,000 We live a life of helplessness, oppression and despair, 🤦🏼‍♀️and we spent more than a year under bombing and fire in a canvas tent that did not protect us from the cold of winter or from the insects of strange seasons and serious diseases, please do not ignore our urgent appeal, 💔💔a small donation from each person will make a difference and save our lives, together we can rebuild our lives and restore and shape a future full of hope and 🙏🏻🙏🏻❤️❤️freedom. I trust in your humanity Thank you❤️🙏🏻

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #436 )✅️

@nabulsi27 @90-ghost

[shattersaurus]

Alright everyone, I am a weak person. After relentless suggestions and pressure from all my friends and some of my family members I got my butt out of my chair and figured out how to turn my pridesaurs into actual stickers!

It was a longer process then it should have been, since I am very picky with quality. I tried several print shops in my area, all of which did not achieve the proper results, so I got myself a printer and cutting machine and oh man, I just love the results! Took me a lot of time and effort to learn and figure things out (testing different printing settings and sticker paper material) but I am very happy with how these little guys turned out!

If you would like to support my silly little dinosaur art, then you can buy any of these stickers from my Etsy shop, which I just set up recently. I am pretty new to this entire business side of art things, but I am trying my best :D so a like or a reblog would go a long way. Thank you guys so much for all your kind words and support

Link to my shop:

If you have any requests or questions, please don't hestitate to reach out!

[buttercuparry]

Urgent: Extremely low funds!!

I am writing to you on behalf of Abdulsalam Al-Anqur ( @aboodanqar20 ), whose family has managed to raise a mere 3% of evacuation/survival funds. At this point, it would soon be one year of bombing and destruction of Gaza and I request you to take this in consideration while reading the post. For almost one year, the family has tried to get by, before finally reaching out to all of us for help. I am going to keep this short in hopes that this would be an easier read and would take only a few minutes of your day. 

Abdulsalam is only 26 years old and is father to one year old Iman. He hopes to save his daughter who is currently suffering from malnutrition and offer her a better life by evacuating to Egypt.

However as the borders are currently closed, the Al-Anqur family needs your help to collect funds for survival. There are 7 members in total, including an elderly couple.

Abdulsalam’s father (Ahmed Al-Anqur), is 54 years old and has recently been diagnosed with cancer. He has been advised to undergo surgery every three months, but with how things are in Gaza, the family isn't sure if it is possible. They are also worried that even if by some miracle it becomes so, they might not be able to bear the cost of it

What Ahmed, hence needs is access to medicines to get by. He also has a weak heart and already has 4 stents in place.  

The Al-Anqur family has been displaced several times and because they couldn't bear the cost of transportation, they once had to travel from the North to Deir Al-Balah in the South ON FOOT ! They have also been subjected to terror and humiliation when they crossed military checkpoints.  

Currently the family is living in a camp surrounded by waste and garbage and would like access to a decent tent before winter sets in.

For a long time, Abdulsalam refused to share his burden with anyone. But after almost a year of surviving through this genocide, he has grown tired and now fears for his daughter’s life. He is also close to tears about his father’s condition and requests  your help in  raising funds for survival. Please help him in whatever way you can. He has come onto  tumblr with a lot of hope. Please donate if you can. Boost and share if you can't. 

Currently at €1,703 / €50,000. Only €797 till €2,500.

Vetting #4 by @gazavetters ( this blog is run by Gazans themselves whom you have helped and still continue to help. Please, a lot of hope is riding on your participation).

[northgazaupdates]

Help little Osama survive surgery!!

Osama (center) is a 6-year-old boy from Gaza. Following the IOF attack on his home, Osama fled to southern Gaza with his father, mother, 2 siblings, and ailing grandparents.

Life has been extremely difficult for them. Without any income, providing food and water for the family and medical care for Osama’s grandparents has been incredibly challenging.

Then Osama fell ill with severe abdominal pain. Doctors diagnosed him with appendicitis, lymphadenitis and malnutrition, and said he needed urgent surgery to save his life.

Thankfully he was able to undergo surgery. However, he remains in a very vulnerable state as he recovers.

The human body requires adequate food, water, shelter, and medical care as it recovers from a traumatic event. Unfortunately for Osama, these are all difficult to attain. The IOF assault on Gaza has made all of these things scarce, and what little remains is extremely expensive.

Osama cannot recover from his illness and surgery without the basic necessities of life. Additionally, his malnutrition is further worsened by lack of adequate sustenance. He is weak and miserable, and needs your help to get the things he needs to survive.

Please share this post, follow and boost his parents @mohammedalhabil @aya2mohammed, and repost the link to Osama’s campaign.

Osama will remain in a weakened state until he recovers. This makes him even more vulnerable to infections like cholera and gangrene, which could take his life. It is critical to get him the help he needs right now!!

Help this little boy survive genocide!!

Verified by nabulsi

[magneticflower]

Also, why was like 95% of S2's dialogue just so— weak?

Half the conversations felt vapid or unfulfilling because they never even really got to finish the conversation. It was mostly just a back and forth of jabs or one-liners and then nothing, and that really dampened the storytelling. We needed substance in these conversations, especially knowing this was the end and we didn't really get that.

We didn't even get the actual conversation between Jinx and Ekko which led to her not killing herself after we had to watch him try to save her from doing just that several times. We got the start of it and then we got a cut off I assume to be like 'well did he or didn't he' even though that was unnecessary because we knew he had to have been able to get through to her at that point. We deserved that conversation. They deserved to have that real conversation.

I will also go on record saying that the 'I am the dirt under your nails' line was actually a horrible thing to make Vi say. Vi, the one in season 1 that we hear say 'I grew up knowing I'm less than them,' equates herself to dirt under her Piltover girlfriend's nails? That's just crazy to do. That line is not cute (honestly, it's just bad in general. No one should equate themselves to dirt in comparison to their partner) when literally nothing has actually changed. Like, oh yeah, you gave one seat at the table to Zaun? Big deal, the rest of the council was scowling at Sevika the moment she walked in to the moment she sat down. Anyone that could have served as an ally on that council is gone/leaving (Jayce, Mel, etc), and so Sevika's hardly going to have a fair chance at getting much for Zaun.

I could go on about more but those ones stuck out the most for me at the moment. I am just frustrated because I watched scenes from s1 last night and in comparison to s2, it is like day and night when it comes to consistency in character and substance.

[threewaywithdelusion]

Can we talk about the attack on the Foxes and exactly how many triggers that's going to set off?

How much do you want to bet that Lane swung for Neil's ribs first because he'd mouthed off in the interview and revealed that Jean had had broken ribs? How long until Jean puts it together and blames himself for the fact that he and Neil now share matching rib fractures from the Ravens? (Neil doesn't care. He'd do it all again).

Andrew has a broken collarbone so bad it needed surgery, and he's going to have to wear a sling for several weeks. He's immobilized and unarmed (literally if he can't wear a knife on his injured arm. A knife in the armband of his working arm would do nothing because he can't draw it with one hand). And Andrew has an immense fear of being too weak to defend himself, especially with a broken bone to make him a target.

Kevin. He's finally grown a spine and this is the first time we see him literally fight the Ravens. He throws hands in defense of his Foxes, and Neil in particular, when Kevin from a year before would never have. But he saw Andrew, his protector, his shield, the man he promised he would make Court, with a hand dangling limp and useless at his side thanks to a broken bone. How many hours did it take before they got Andrew into an x-ray and saw that it was fixable? How long did Kevin stare at Andrew's limp hand, memories of Riko and his own broken bones going through his mind?

Allison was off the court, but that's the part that's going to kill her. Only she, Renee, Nicky, and the freshmen were off the court, but the freshman don't count. Allison had to watch through plexiglass walls as her team was hurt, unable to do anything to help, and she probably thought how many times is this going to happen? How many times am I going to be sidelined while my friends are hurt? how many times will I be useless in protecting them from the Ravens? (It's been one year since Seth died. Since Allison let him go out and lost him and she's never stopped wondering if things would have gone differently if she had been there that night.)

Nicky is also stuck outside the plexiglass, watching as Andrew is the first to go down. He remembers Andrew fighting for him outside Eden's, remembers how Andrew never regretted defending Nicky even when it got him put on those hated meds. And he can't help but feel like a useless guardian because he wasn't there when Andrew was attacked at Thanksgiving (he was the reason Andrew was in that house) and he isn't there now. All he can do is watch.

The Foxes have a long road to recovery and they've definitely survived worse. But with so many old scars torn open, this year might be just as rough as the last

[ezra-but-hornier]

Things my wife (a knight) did for me (a princess) at the Renaissance fair that make me absolutely feral:

Held my umbrella and would not let me carry my own bag

Waited for me outside of shops, booths, and even the bathrooms

Bought and surprised me with a rose, making my knees weak and shaming my friends and their husbands in one fell swoop

Found the one booth that sells coffee and got me a latte WITH A MILK ALTERNATIVE

Won the knife throwing contest against two very cocky men, only preening when I called them handsome

Paid for me to have my face painted like a fairy and told me I was the most beautiful person in the world

Bought me a LITERAL CROWN and then refused to let me take it off

Watched me eat a giant turkey leg like it was the world's greatest nature documentary

Looked at me so sweetly that one of my straight married friends turned red and told us to get a room

Took pictures of all my friends without them even having to ask

Inspired several little girls who clearly had never seen a 'lady knight' and who excitedly pointed us out to their parents

Called me 'my lady' and kissed my hand any time I looked at them

Carried my friend's baby in their arms

Drove us home early because I was too tired to keep walking around

Went into Chickfila (in costume) to ask for the dipping sauce that they forgot to put in our bag while I sat in the car

Fell asleep that night holding my hand

In conclusion: I am gay

[proneterror204]

A Mothers Lesson

Lady Shiva thought it was time she taught her daughter a lesson.

Her daughter had grown relaxed in her time with Batman, and the recent news was that she had fallen in love with a boy.

Now she stood atop the boys roof thinking of how finding the boys body was going to teach her daughter that love was weakness, that emotions and family was weakness and remind her to never be weak.

She snuck in through the window, fully intent on catching the boy asleep in bed. This was going to be such an easy lesson- A glowing green fist smashed her in to the wall

Her arm broke-shattered. she looked at a boy, the boy. "I was wondering how long you where going to stand on my roof like a stalker. Even Batman had better manners."

She spoke only to be interrupted; "I am- I know who you are lady Shiva. Cass told me. She still cries your name in her nightmares."

She smiled proudly, only to receive an inhuman kick that broke several ribs. "Are you proud of that you sadist? Pleased with the pain and trauma you've caused?"

She tried to speak but noticed the temperature drop and the shadows grow and animate.

"No more. No more pain. No more trauma. No more nightmares. No More Lessons. I love her. I love Cass and there will be No More.

The shadows grew. they wrapped around her- pulling her into the darkness. The only thing she saw where Lazarus green eyes.