#and my mental reaction to it

[thesexydancingcrepe]

Has anyone ever asked you a question that made you remember how cringe you used to be?

The only reason I could think of as to why Wukong hasn't tried to steal my piercings is for him to think they're cursed to.

Isekai'd to the west @skittlescripts

[vaxxman]

Could I request Medic having The Mom Grip on Scout’s shoulder after the speedy moron almost let a mercenary secret slip while they weee getting groceries?

Three Europeans and two Americans walk into a grocery store in New Mexico.

I hope this is the right meme.

More silliness below.

This comic is the antithesis of the "wtf is a kilometre" joke.

The faces they make when they can't quite identify the type of brown bread in the bread aisle.

You don't know how [insert nationality here] you are until you go overseas and things are different.

Spy obviously has no problems with pretending to know how much a gallon of milk is, he just peeks into his conversion chart notes, pretending it's his shopping list.

I want to think Heavy is completely fine with having to readjust to a new unit system, he just eyeballs most practical things anyways by holding them up and mumbling about how they approximately weigh like a chicken or his kettle bell etc. He's always been living in practical ignorant bliss.

Medic has a peer reviewed meltdown the first time he realises there's no uniformity in "a cup of ____" because every object has different densities. He's diligent about memorising the conversion rates for ounces, pounds, the most common things etc., and recovers ok. He goes through the same stages of grief rage when he finds out about distances and lengths.

Just remember four inches are 10.16 cm and pray no one asks you to specify anything bigger than inches.

Everyone does a mental victory lap when they manage to guess how much Celsius the weather is because they keep forgetting it's Celsius*5/9+32=Fahrenheit, Engineer reminds them patiently.

The true victories are the correct temperature guesses we've made along the way.

One time, a friend asked me if I actually knew how much a tablespoon of flour was in gramms to convince me that metric users also make use of volume based units without thinking about them. But little did she know a heaped spoonful of 405 flour is about 15g and a level tablespoon is 10g.

They claim Oolong just tastes better when it's boiled to 80°C exactly with a Bunsen burner.

You only asked for one scene but somehow I came up with a bunch of other things. This post was drawn across 2 months so the artstyle is all over the place. Thanks for your ask!

[navree]

i think more people need to realize that the circumstances of how jason todd died would make him deeply untrusting of not only other people, not only himself and his own instincts, but specifically other people's proclamations of what they feel about/for him and how he reacts to that in turn

[factual-fantasy]

Been dealing with some kind of artblock/burnout for the past few days/weeks and have been filling my time with CookieRun: Kingdom.

This is a drawing based on a cutscene from the story mode. Although they didn't actually seem to hug when they were reunited they absolutely should have and I was very sad that they didn't 😭

[xxplastic-cubexx]

oh noooo or whatever

bonus aka The Real Motive Behind This:

SURPRISE double bonus. textless ver of the first pic under the cut

[smolthealmighty]

[unstablemotions]

when the mental disorder mental disorders

[novicedraws]

Sorry for the absence,,,and sorry for not many sketches

//suggestive below

[shalom-iamcominghome]

It's absolutely true that delusions can take on religious elements and be fueled in part or whole by religion, but dear l-rd, do I hate when people blanket all religion under this whole "it's all delusion, anyway!!!".

No it is not, and I know that because I know what it's like to have gone through delusions! I was reminded of that difference recently, and I'm religious. Not everything that you personally disagree with is a delusion, a narcissistic power play, or anything else. Sometimes you disagree with others. I am pretty religious, but I am more than willing to agree with non-theists about their opinions because they come up with good ideas and we are equal human beings. In fact, the atheist has strengthened my own religious beliefs because I am challenged by them to actually think things through. My whole issue with this is the - funnily enough - holier-than-thou, stigmatizing attitudes that are necessary to say things like that.

As someone who has a vested interest in mental health and accurate information about it, this stuff unironically angers me. The human in me wants to educate people, but the ape in me wants to take away the terms delusional, narcissistic, gaslighting, and every mental health term under the sun away until people learn how to properly use and apply them. The only people you are hurting are people who are already hurting.

[aurorangen]

Like my first love that September

Transcript & Context:

[The trial was an eye-opener for us and we shouldn't be afraid to reach out to help cope with trauma. We both went to therapy, my mum felt brave enough to open up about her mental health and I went to talk through my fears and distress and how to gain control of it. In the end, we decided to move to Henford-on-Bagley]

[The countryside promoted healing and we were less likely to be triggered by places or people. It was really an escape from the big city. Settling down was easy since my grandparents lived there. It was also my first time visiting the family farm and I loved every single moment in that house]

[Most importantly, I felt more relaxed in Henford-on-Bagley. No more pestering reporters or prying eyes of the neighbours. No more trouble sleeping or flashbacks to all the difficult times. Instead, it was a warm welcome from the villagers, who did not ask too many questions, well most of them anyway]

[Our wellbeing improved and we immediately fitted in with the community. It was a new beginning here which meant a different school, routine and people. And one person in particular stood out from everyone else]

[Henford-on-Bagley was where I met Nancy Montford. She was my first love]

The remaining story parts (the first love and the one after 👀) are the ones that I have most been looking forward to! And look who is his first love...Nancy (tjolc)!!! It is perfect with her cooking roots and how city detective also explores food. I've mentioned that Vincent likes cooking and you will find out how it came to that. Now the two legacies link 🤗 One more thing is Oscar has NO RELATION to Strangerville even though I initially created him to be the mysterious guy.

[poisonousquinzel]

they deserved better idc 😐

[saudrag]

some ineffable bureaucracy for healing hearts ❤️‍🩹

dialogue:

G: What are you doing…

B: Silly angel, you have no idea how beautiful you look, do you?

G: Well… I suppose not? Is it a good thing?

B: …I like your face structure

G: Oh!.. Then it’s good! :)

B: …

[kornknock]

I want it to be 2015 again.. I want to watch robert say I love you to Aaron for the first time. I want to feel what I felt after hearing ‘say it again’ ‘I love you’ .. the elation.. the giddiness … take me BACKKK

[existingingrey]

Noh Sang Cheol will always be Goh Jeong Woo's safe haven.

Go Jun: It was touching. After receiving a good verdict, there’s a scene where we’re talking and drinking in a park-like area, and Yo Han comes over and hugs me. At that moment, I thought, ‘Wait, are we going to kiss?’ That’s how heart-fluttering it was. I realized then what it means when women’s hearts flutter.

[qiu-yan]

jiang cheng at the club

i answered kind of speedily but hm blorbo should not be at the club

teenage era? the most debatable era tbh. on one hand - for one, if jiang cheng goes, he's going because he thinks that's what the cool kids his age should be doing, rather than because it's what he actually wants to do. for two, if he goes he's certainly going with wei wuxian. there's a good chance he'll have a good time with wei wuxian, but there's also a good chance that he'll spend the entire experience way too high-strung about wei wuxian doing something stupid (guaranteed) that will make both him and yunmeng jiang look stupid (not guaranteed but still likely) and/or put wei wuxian in danger (also very likely). there's also an even higher chance that wei wuxian will end up fucking off to chat/flirt/etc with other people (eg. lan wangji who wei wuxian also managed to drag to the club, who then gets drunk and thus wei wuxian now has to babysit), thereby leaving jiang cheng all by his lonesome. jiang cheng can probably talk to strangers, but he came here to have fun with wei wuxian and now wei wuxian has ding dong ditched. bonus points if wei wuxian promised to be designated driver and now jiang cheng has to uber home.

on the other hand - teenage wei wuxian and jiang cheng are definitely making the club more fun. mostly wei wuxian. and, despite all of the above, jiang cheng is probably having a good time...most of the time...too.

adult era: nah. jiang cheng is busy. it would be nice if he could let loose and forget about everything for a few hours, but he would not do that. realistically he'd just spend the entire time stressing about his growing to-do list, and the music would give him a headache.

also, everything at the club would remind him of wei wuxian. wei wuxian, certified party animal, was almost certainly the one dragging jiang cheng to the club in their youth; jiang cheng probably does in fact have some happy memories of clubbing with wei wuxian. but those happy memories are gonna curdle into depressing ones the moment he steps through the doors and is reminded of wei wuxian again. the photos of wei wuxian doing a keg stand behind the bar are making him miserable, and he in turn is going to make it everyone else's problem.

postcanon era: also nah. mostly because he'd almost certainly run into jin ling et al. sneaking into the club with fake IDs, and now everyone's yelling.

on the other hand....maybe he and wei wuxian can eventually reconcile over a night of partying they're both frankly way too old for. or maybe when they wake up the next day in the same ditch with matching hangovers.

[the-ace-with-spades]

So, kinda Mav's POV of this silly Slimav fwb ficlet thingy?? who knows, maybe one day there will be Ice's part... (tw: non-descriptive/implied sex)

Things with Slider keep...happening? Mav isn't exactly sure this is the right word but they're certainly going well.

Contrary to popular belief, Mav isn't dumb. He knows what Slider is doing, he's just not sure it's actually working at all.

They keep on having sex, usually at Slider and Ice's house, usually at least twice a week and honestly, the arrangement is better than Mav suspected.

Slider is good in bed, he's Mav's type, at least physically — cocky, tall, blonde, smart-mouthed in all the meanings of the word, athletic, and willing to try to keep up with him — and he's by far the safest and the most convenient lay Mav could have with a guy. He knows he's clean thanks to military health regulations, he knows he's discreet, also thanks to military regulations, and he won't ever sell Mav out to his CO because he'd be selling himself out too. He's got a safe place no one is going to question them using — to the neighbors, they're just some bros from the Navy that probably get drunk together twice a week and that's why Mav is staying overnight — and their only witness is also gay and would be selling himself out if he said anything.

Now, Mav says he knows what Slider is doing because said only witness is literally an eyewitness of what they're doing and it can't be a fucking coincidence.

At first, it kinda seems to be a coincidence. Mav shows up for their scheduled sex night — what? it's not a date night, it's a sex night — and Slider doesn't wait until Mav is in his room before they start kissing and tries to pin him down to the front door. It's admirable, and so hot, that he tries, but Mav gets his arms around the back of his neck and steps in, leg wrapping around his hip a bit. Slider's hands go down, taking a resting spot on the curve Mav's ass as he leans down, kissing the corners of Mav's lips with fervor and then his arms go lower, pulling Mav's waist into an arch, and he—

He lifts Mav up by the thighs, fingers digging into his jeans, and his knees instinctively lock around his hips and Slider bounces him up in his grip like he weighs nothing. Just as he moves them away from the door, he stops the ever-going kiss and Mav leans away, enough to see behind his shoulder, and—

That's definitely Ice, standing in the living room door frame, book in hand, staring at them, frozen in a perfectly still position, but blinking rapidly, and that alone says a lot.

Mav snorts into Slider's shoulder and feels Slider's chest rumble underneath as he chuckles into his hair.

The world swirls, Slider turns around, hands suspiciously high under his butt, and takes a step and Mav is so focused on how fucking hot it is that he can carry him around like he weighs nothing that he almost misses the "Sorry, man, outta the way. Don't want to drop this idiot, won't get laid if he ends up in ER."

He bites down on his neck for the comment and Slider, like the sick bastard he is, moans a bit.

It keeps on happening, always 'on accident'. Slider tells Ice the wrong time of their meet-up so he's literally still on the couch Slider throws Mav onto first thing after he comes to their house, or he forgets to close to his bedroom and has hands down Mav's pants as Ice walks by to the bathroom at night, or Ice comes back from church and they're buck naked on the wobbly living room table, or in the morning, Slider and Mav go to take a shower, together, and once again the doors aren't closed so—

It has to be on purpose. Especially that on the one day Ice is actually out of the house the whole night — Mav has no idea where, but it's their third sex night that week so he probably is desperate enough to go to a hotel — Slider starts their second round in the morning, perfectly timed with Ice's return.

They're eating the french toast and scrambled eggs Mav made, not really that chatty, they're barely friends after all, and Mav is wearing one of Slider's giant band t-shirts, this time with Bon Jovi on it — it's comfy and this way, he doesn't dirt up his clothes, sue him — and his own white briefs.

He can hear Ice's old man car on the driveway just as Slider pushes away their plates, grabs Mav by the hips, plops him on the kitchen island's countertop like a doll, pulls his pants off, and starts trying to maul his neck, nicely prepared for him by already sticking out of the huge collar of his huge t-shirt.

Ice walks into the kitchen to see Mav splayed like a starfish on the counter, his briefs stuck on his ankles, his dick covered only by the hem of that godawful Bon Jovi t-shirt and Slider's massive hand, and he just stands there for a minute as they all just stare at each other to finally hiss through clenched teeth, "We eat on that counter."

And like, Mav is not complaining, it's just, well, whatever plan Slider has, it has some holes in it.

He tries to put a little bit of a stop to it, alright, he really does, he's not about to torture himself by reading too much into Ice's expression whenever he walks on them, fool's hope, dream on and all that shit. It's just—hard. He hasn't had such regular, good sex in since before college, and never with a guy, and Slider is fucking hot, okay? It's literally his only good quality — hot and good in bed.

So when one day, during their lunch break, Ice, who is sitting pressed into Mav, thighs, arms, elbows, it all touching, says, "Can we just have one night without you two—as friends, just three guys who are friends and—" Mav agrees to just have a chill night at their place.

It's a nice evening, in general. Slider fucks off god knows where for most of the time, leaving just Mav and Ice in the kitchen — Slider can't cook, the bastard just sponges off whatever they cook. They put the radio on, do some silly dances — okay, Mav does, but it makes Ice chuckles so it's almost the same thing — and just talk and talk, preparing food close to each other enough that their elbows touch. And Ice looks at him, just looks at him, with so much fondness, with so much vulnerability in his wide-eyed expression, with that soft blush and downturned face and it is almost enough for him.

But then he leans closer and closer and Ice is no longer there, turning away from him as if burned and Mav—Mav is not dumb enough to torture himself with this forever, at least not on purpose.

So Slider comes back when dinner is ready and Mav sits next to him at the table, even though he usually would sit next to Ice, and lets Slider steal bacon from his plate as Ice stabs the food with a little too much force to be fully cool about the whole thing — Mav isn't reading into it though, he's tried and tried and tried, and he won't make a fool out of himself, Slider's plan be damned.

They move to the living room, some action movie selected, Ice already sitting at one end of the couch under a cozy blanket, book in hand, Slider on the other end.

It's the beginning of September only, but the whole day was unexpectedly cold, with a storm picking up at various hours, and now that Mav isn't moving around the kitchen or hovering close to the hot oven, he's feeling a bit chilly.

He makes a small detour to Slider's room, to snatch one of his sweatshirts, way too big on him, sleeves covering his fingers almost completely, the hem pulling under his hips.

They both turn to him and the ugly beige sweatshirt is more than plain noticeable but he just gives them an innocent smile. "What? I was cold, I know where all of Slider's shit is."

"We could've just shared the blanket," Ice says, sounding as if his mouth is drier than the Sahara.

Mav raises an eyebrow at him, pointedly, as if to say, Could we really?

Slider doesn't smirk, exactly, but it's clear on his face his shit-eating grin is held up by his will alone. He props one arm behind his head and pats the couch next to himself with the other.

Mav plops next to him and Slider's arm wraps around the small of his back. Mav grabs the remote and turns on the movie, aware that Ice's jaw is clenched as he stares down at his book.

Mav—Mav clings. Slider is warm, really warm, he's always like a space heater, and he might as well use it to his advantage.

Not even fifteen minutes into the movie, Mav feels Slider's hot hand slip underneath the sweater and his t-shirt, scorching fingers dipping into his sides and bringing Mav closer, close enough that the leg he had crossed over his knee slides down onto Slider's thigh. Mav doesn't stay passive, seeking out skin, too, reaching into Slider's collar, and next thing he knows Slider leans in and kisses him.

And then does it again, and again, and again, until Mav is fighting for small sips of air in between.

(There's a tearing sound somewhere, but Mav is pretty sure Ice the control freak would have enough control not to tear his book pages out just because Mav is getting frisky with his best friend in front of him.)

Then Slider grabs him under his thighs, lifting him up and standing up at the same time, Mav's legs wrapping around him on instinct.

"What the fuck—"

"Oh, shut up," Slider cuts off and then slaps his ass and okay, maybe he squeals a little, sue him. "I know you like it."

Like hell he's going to admit but, yeah, he kinda does. He's starting to think Slider likes carrying him around and throwing him on different surfaces just as much, he sure does it a lot.

Ice clears his throat and cooly, voice too still to not be suggest how he feels truly, says, "I asked for one night—"

Mav almost — almost — feels bad but then Slider says, "Sorry, man, he looks too fuckable in my sweatshirt." Then, cheekily, as they leave the living room, Mav now held up in just one of his arms — and isn't that fucking hot? — adds, "You wouldn't understand."

And this time, he can't just pretend he doesn't know what's happening here.

"I know what you're doing," he tells Slider, just as he's thrown on his bed and swarmed by his long limbs.

Right before he dives lower, Slider remarks, "Eh, do you really though?"

"It's not going to work," he protests, even as he lets Slider bite down his neck, his hand arching his head back for better access, strong hold keeping Mav still and making him hornier. "Even if he was getting jealous—"

"He is."

"—I think he'd be past the boiling point now," he finishes.

Slider tilts his head back, meeting his eyes. "You don't know how stubborn he can be."

"So what? You're just going to fuck the guy he supposedly wants until he breaks?"

"Yeah, basically," Slider says, fingers still gripping his hair. "Just enjoying your tight ass until my best friend decides to think with his dick and not his brain, for once."

"Nice," is all Mav adds before they go back to business.

He'd be lying to say he doesn't care. He wants Ice to do something. He wants him to admit he doesn't like whatever deal Slider and Mav have going on, that he doesn't like it specifically because he wants Mav to himself.

He wonders if he and Slider talk about Mav. If he asks Slider what is going on with them, if Slider gives him the dirty details, if he gets pissed off at Slider for continuing to hook up with him, again and again. If all those little expressions he sees on Ice's face whenever he walks in on them, if they're louder and more pronounced when he leaves the house and it's just Slider to take them on.

But fool's hope and all that — so Mav claws at Slider's sweater and pops it over his head.

As time goes on, it just feels more and more as if he's wrong about the whole, that he just imagined the way Ice looks at him.

"So, Maverick," Slider begins when Mav and Ice are chatting at their cubicles, sitting down on Mav's desk like he owns it. "You free this Saturday? Ice is stuck at work so the house will be empty."

Right behind himself, he hears a snap. When he turns around, Ice's broken his pencil in half.

Interesting.

"I'm actually going with Bradley to the beach, I'm going to teach him to swim," he says slowly. "Or at least try. The kid's been getting panicky any time we leave him without the floaties."

"Ooof, that's tough," Slider says and he actually seems sympathetic because Bradley is everyone's favorite and everyone's weak spot. "You want a second pair of hands? Might make him feel a bit more secure if he's surrounded from all sides."

And why not? It's not like Ice has any more pencils to break.

It's a nice enough day, for one spent with Slider. Bradley can't swim by the end of it, but he can float in the water without screaming his lungs out, so Mav takes it as a win. Bradley giggles at their banter and finds their insults — dialed down, there's a kid with them after all — funny, and there's just something less irritating about Slider, like this, with Bradley as the buffer.

Mav drives them in Goose's old car to leave Bradley back with Carole, they chat for a bit, and then Mav takes his motorcycle and drives them to Ice and Slider's place. They're both in jeans and there's a lot of rubbing and some more-or-less intentional grinding, so by the time Mav parks on the driveway, they're both half hard and set on one goal. They pass Ice on the way to Slider's room, and maybe he's a bit red in the face and maybe Mav arches his hips with a bit of an exaggeration but well, he's having fun and it's not his problem Ice isn't part of it.

It happens again, mostly because Ice is fighting to get the upcoming promotion and often works on the weekends, Carole gives private lessons on Saturdays, and that just leaves Mav and Slider alone, usually with Bradley for most of the day and then alone and pent up in the evening.

Slider is good with Bradley, too. Baby Goose is a soft, sensitive boy, and many men would try to toughen him up, but Slider doesn't. No, Slider stops and holds him when he gets scared, carries him around when he gets tired or sleepy, can't resist the cow eyes almost as badly as Mav and buys Bradley anything he wants, and doesn't protest last all when Bradley asks if they can swing him around — just gives him his hand, waits for Mav to grab his other hand, and then just throws Bradley in the air as high as he can.

There start to be times when they don't even retreat back to Slider and Ice's place after, just say goodbye at the door to Mav and Carole's house — Bradley always insists Mav needs a hug goodbye too, Uncle Slider — and then Slider leaves without Mav.

"It kinda seems like you're dating him, Pete," Carole says one calm evening that Mav does not spend with Slider and Ice, after Slider took them back home in his embarrassing wagon BMW.

Bradley is already asleep and they're drinking wine (from normal glasses because they still haven't managed to buy the full dishware set).

Mav obviously finds it ridiculous. "You can't date someone you don't have feelings for."

Carole raises her eyebrow and takes a slurpy sip and yeah, fair enough, there's plenty of people who are married and hate each other, not to mention ones that are dating.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks. There's a difference between having sex and dating, even if there aren't any feelings in either.

Carole has some—thing, for Slider, he knows. It's been over four years since Goose and he knows they won't ever fully move on but they have to at least try. He'd never hold it against her if she fell in love with someone, it's just—it's Slider of all people.

"Nah, have some fun," Carole sighs. "It's not like he'll ever see me anyway."

Slider's been equally dumb about all of Carole's flirting attempts as Ice was about his, which was an achievement in itself because Mav wasn't the subtlest, but Carole wasn't subtle at all.

"What a mess," he says and then pours more wine into Carole's glass.

@woodsywarbler, hon, I think you wanted me to tag you here? idk this is a bit disappointing b/c tumblr ate the longer draft and i had no energy to write it out in detail but 🤷🏻‍♂️