#Rob Warne

[recentlyheardcom]

90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After - Thais Ramone Boils over in the Hot Tub - Recap [S08E22]

The 90 Day Fiance: Fortunately Ever After Inform All heats up when Thais Ramone erupts within the scorching tub accusing Large Ed Brown of being impolite to ladies. Angela Deem is shocked when her non-public investigator comes up with nothing on Michael Ilesanmi. And Rob Warne and Sophie Sierra battle when secrets and techniques are revealed. Let’s break all of it down on this recap of Season 8,…

[clownsuu]

Hello, Can I steal Robbie and run off into the sunset?

Is it stealing if you asked me for permission jdhdJDDUJ-

[hofstadt3r]

start your life open up your eyes and receive the lights of 1985!

[thereweredragonshere]

I have an unhealthy obsession with drawing stick figure Hiccup like c’mon he’s already a stick figure why not make him just a bit skinnier

[sarahjaneadventures]

happy belated pride month i got into iasip recently and this is my very important contribution to the community

[messangerforthestars]

“We need more morally gray characters” you guys can barely handle topaz and jade.

[fanofspooky]

Scream King - Richard Brake

[manderley]

𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐆𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓)

[skyshroom]

Would Lucy reviving the rats have taken away the XP the Rat Grinders got for killing them is that anything I’m not sure of the rules/mechanics? Like was she trying to weaken them or was it strictly an act of mercy on her behalf? or a mixture of both?

[cutiefangz]

molly posting (some old some new)

[cold-black-and-infinite]

Nine Inch Nails | Live at Ford Ampitheater

Tampa, FL

May 9th, 2009

[recentlyheardcom]

90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After - Sophie Sierra Sobs after Shocking Break Up - Recap [S08E19]

On 90 Day Fiance: Fortunately Ever After, Sophie Sierra sobs into her squishmallow after Rob Warne dumps her to her shock. Jasmine Pineda has a crown, however considers husband Gino Palazzolo an evil clown. Ashley Michelle loses it after Manuel Velez admits the cash is gone. And Angela Deem hires a PI to research Michael Ilesanmi with the assistance of her daughter. Let’s dive in to the chaos of…

[myers-meadow]

Michael Myers x reader: Sunday roast

Title: Sunday roast

Summary: Michael had expectations of the world, what it would be like when he was free again - but the reality was a little less bright. One evening his hunger drives him closer to a warm house, drives him to you.

Warnings: can be read for any version of Michael. Deals with his thoughts and situation after his escape. Sfw. Not that shippy but perhaps that will come later :)) Happy early Halloween!!

Wordcount: 934

Link to my masterlist

Divider by @/firefly-graphics

A month. That’s how long had passed since he escaped the sanatorium. He thought being out would change him, but it hadn’t. His mind was as busy and annoying as ever – and his dreams were worse. His old childhood home was still home, but it had little of the comforts it used to have. Food didn’t magically appear in the cabinets, no one concerned themselves with him in there, the only thing it held was a filthy mattress and mice in the walls. He liked the mice, though, they weren’t the problem.

.

And so the days filled themselves. Stealing food, seeking shelter, trying anything to get to a stable mental space. It lasted him a week, during which it rained those bone chilling October rains. He went out, hood over his head, mask on, knife in the pocket of his stained coveralls. Few houses still had the lights on at this hour. The rain was a light drizzle, but the biting wind made it cold. There was a smell in the air, beside that of wet pavement, something warm and familiar. Food. It came from a house with the lights on in the kitchen. Michael came closer to the house, closer than he normally dared at this stage of his hunt, close enough to hear the clatter of the spatula as you dropped it on the counter. The oven beeped, a waft of heat made you recoil, before hands in oven mitts carried the tray to the table. Roast potatoes… How long had it been since he had those? His mouth watered. A twitch in his hand made him realise his hunger out won his bloodlust, at least tonight. And those potatoes are best when they’re still hot.

.

You didn’t notice him when he slipped in the house, nor the kitchen. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, and you turned around startled. You jumped as you saw him, his white rubber mask, spatula still in hand, onions sizzling away in the pan. Before you could act or speak, he pointed to the tray of roast potatoes on the table in between the two of you.

Eyebrows knitting together in either confusion or fear. “Food? You are hungry?”

Instead of an answer, Michael shoved a chair back and sat down. He watched as the thoughts crossed your face, from alarm to confusion to a final resolute decision.

“That’s quite a familiar mask,” you said, as you reached for a plate from the cabinet and put it in front of the stranger. The spatula too, Michael took it from your hand impatiently and helped himself to a generous serving.

“It must’ve been tough, finally getting out and then this cursed rain never stops,” you say, mindless, as you turn your back to him to grab a second spatula from the drawer and stir the onions. Then halted your movements, and got a fork and let it clatter down on the table, for Michael to grab and use.

Even the smell of burnt onions were a delight. He rolled up the bottom of his mask to allow himself to eat, peeking to ensure you weren’t looking. When you turned around at the second scrape of the fork on the plate, you quickly averted your eyes. Breathed deep, hands gripping the counter, before you resolutely gripped the pan handle and carried it to the table. Without asking, you scooped a good amount of mushrooms, onions and carrots in gravy on Michael’s plate.

Not knowing what else to do, you sat down, dejected, across from him and ate small bites. As he watched you like a hawk, it truly seemed you weren’t reaching for to phone on the wall by the kitchen window, or to do anything shady with the knife that’s still on the cutting board. He devoured the first serving, determined to get as much food in, before things would inevitably go south. A second serving; smaller but still sizable. He was a large, famished man. His hunger was satiated by then, but the homely taste of potatoes in butter and onion gravy made it difficult to stop himself from enjoying a little more.

When he shoved the plate away from him and stood up, it was as if the world returned into razor sharp focus. You hadn’t eaten nearly as much as him, too nervous, but were wide eyed with innocence beyond those nerves. Following his movements, you too stood, but immediately pulled open the fridge.

“Dessert?”

He breathed out, this was truly like a feast. His birthdays, he’d remember his momma with the same tone, asking if he wanted pudding, or candy when they’d watch a movie on tv that went on until later than his bedtime. He nodded, flexing his hand, trying to ground himself. What was this feeling? Good food. That was all. Good food nourished him, satisfied him. And now there’s dessert.

There was just one case of pudding, and you stuck two spoons into the large cup. It was a family portion, no doubt. You ate with him then, although he was quicker, and was the one to finish it all.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, eyebrow raised, after the spoon clattered against his plate. He leant back, smoothing over his coveralls. You stood and gathered all the dishes to wash, a process during which he slipped out as unnoticed as he came. A mercy unlike any before. Sighing and taking survey of the amount of dishes to be done, you called out from over your shoulder, jokingly: “The cook is relieved of dish duty?” only to be met with silence.

[hofstadt3r]

orber cantor?!! woah 🤯what the hall (I love this sm)

[spookydestinycat]

[imembarressedsohere]

The Gang Edit.