#bc i am not technically supposed to know this i am just supposed to know that he is with his high school friends

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

[pointing towards you emoji] favorite blaseball team. go

(if you want to practice drawing in another style, then draw yourself as a transformer OR as a human character)

WE ARE FROM CHICAGO

[ghostoffuturespast]

Honestly, getting real tired carrying and supporting other folks around here when most of them aren't returning the favor...

[piningpercussionist]

Template by @juni38

Im going to be completely frank with you all... and admit that I read these options and wasn't sure how to take this chart,,, so uh. Under the cut is Another Version. I'd apologize but I've given you the option to keep scrolling ¯\_(･･)_/¯

(If you notice characters missing on Kim's side, I probably figured she doesn't know who they are lol)

For the record,,, if they *wanted* me to pull their hair-- *is shot several times before I can continue*

Uhh Matthew is here because I have been converted fully on he/him or enby lesbian Matthew I think. He lives in my brain rent free now, very gender. I'd pull his hair but also I think he mostly just deserves to have it played with nicely.

And Scott's here because 1) I enjoy trans Scott, 2) Kim Pine Brain Rot possibly, 3) idk he's like,, the exception. God damnit, I've fallen for the inexplicable Scott Pilgrim Effect. What the fuck--

I did think about doing this chart like everyone was actually applicable to my tastes, but even if they were I think the ones I didn't put up would have to fall on the caress side bc I just don't feel that way abt them lol.

Again, not to say that's the case for the gals over on that side,,, I just think I would want to be gentle w them shxkdjsdhbd with the exception for Lynette who probably deserves to have her hair pulled, but again I fear she would Hurt Me,,, but maybe in a fun way,,,

Anyway No One Look At Me....

(,, also,,, Ramona is so far over bc I think she would enjoy it,, otherwise she'd be closer to Kim in that section. Same thing w Roxie)

If anyone actually looks at this version, I'm not opposed to doing a version like this for Kim btw! Just ask for it so I feel like I'm not just Dropping This and scurrying away

[grmpgm]

ok executive dysfunction is kind of ruining my life actually

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

i’m being so normal and chill and a good friend right now and my self restraint is un-fucking-matched. that is all

[aeide-thea]

wot show is so obsessed with architecture and tbh i'm not mad about it???

[prismaticutie]

If I think abt Ace Attorney too hard I will explode not only is this a threat but a promise

[gentlethorns]

sigh. i love being chronically ill and not really knowing the root cause. like yeah i have pcos, inflammatory arthritis, degenerative disc disease, but i personally have an opinion that these things are all linked by something that is not diagnosed yet. there are other symptoms and shit i experience that don't have diagnoses yet that i also feel are connected. but even if i had a diagnosis it wouldn't change that i always feel like shit anyway. literally it's always something whether it's that i feel nauseous or have a debilitating headache or my neck is so tense i can't turn my head or my back is stiff and painful or the nerves in my spine are compressed and causing pain or my hormones are fucked up and making me miserable or etc etc etc. i think back to three or four years ago when i was able to be active and social and engage in hobbies bc i was healthy and not in constant moderate to severe pain and that person from back then is someone i don't even recognize anymore. i don't know if she's who i am and current me is the stranger or if the person i am now is who i'll be for the rest of my life.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

i was never told selfsonas couldn't be nonhuman so here you go, my first mock up of my sona

[queenerdloser]

i already complained about this to a coworker but maybe if i complain about it here i can purge it from my brain

so there's this specific type of data entry our admin team at work has to do for providers where we track how they spend their administrative time in order to make sure they're meeting required coverage given by my job. we had this huge kerfluffle earlier this year where we were told we needed to collect this like two weeks before it was due and there was seriously not enough turn around time and absolutely nothing in place - no procedure for how to get the data, no spreadsheet to put it in, barely any info on what we were supposed to collect, literally nothing.

so. earlier this year i made all of that stuff. and when we were told "oh hey btw this is not a one-time thing, you will have to continually collect this info" i went "okay but can we set down a set of guidelines and a procedure so we know what the expectations are and what exactly we're supposed to be doing?" and my boss went okay and then proceeded to spend three months not bringing the subject up.

and when it WAS we went VERY briefly over expectations (we need to submit it twice a year to my boss!) and that was it. so i went "okay, i'll draft up a procedure based on these loose guidelines and update our VERY sad spreadsheet" and i did that in about a week. and got feedback from another coworker, made my edits, and finished it all in roughly three weeks. i made a meeting so we could all talk about the procedure and the spreadsheet back in fucking july okay. the end of july. and then a few days before the meeting i was like "oh actually it'd be super helpful to get your specific feedback on these two (2!!!!!) items because this process is something we're literally doing for your benefit. we're collecting the data for you to pass on. and also. you are my boss so it does kind of feel like the creation of this kind of department-wide affecting stuff should have your input." and a few days wasn't enough so my boss asked if we could shift the meeting to a few weeks later and i was like okay fine w/e.

i took a vacation and got back in august. the meeting was coming up and i had asked for feedback before that. so i sent her a message, an email, and brought it up in our 1:1 meetings. she never got back to me with feedback, so i rescheduled again because i specifically asked her for her feedback and even specifically said i didn't want to meet until i had it. so another two weeks roll by and guess what? still no fucking feedback. so i reschedule again. i bring it up to her in our meeting again and she tells me oh yeah she's looking at it but if she doesn't get back to me before the next meeting just keep it, we'll talk about it at the meeting.

so we had this meeting today. and within the first ten minutes (in the middle of me explaining why we're meeting!!!!) she has the nerve to ask me "hey what is this meeting even for? what are we trying to figure out here?" as if i didn't send an email explicitly detailing why we were going to meet last week to everyone, as if i haven't brought this up with her several times, as if i didn't explain it in my original email asking for feedback.

and then we spent like half the meeting having to hash out changes that she brought up!!!!! things like oh actually this doesn't need to be formally reported twice a year, it's actually only going to be formally reported once a year with annual faculty reviews. like what the FUCK i based the entire procedure on the twice a year outline you gave. that's why i asked you to look at the procedure so i could make those kinds of changes BEFORE the meeting. i didn't want to spend the meeting trying to fix the procedure, i wanted to present it to our group as a finished thing! because now i have to go in and make these fucking changes she never bothered to tell me about for a month and a fucking half despite me repeatedly asking her specifically for feedback and put this project even FURTHER behind.

and like. she kept interrupting me during the meeting which is super frustrating. and she also just like. didn't answer any of the questions i DID have for her. me: "hey can you clarify if you are actually reporting this twice a year as was previously discussed or is it really only once a year with annual reviews? if so, do we need to have hard deadlines every six months to send this info to you?" her: "well i'd like it to be ready just in case i get asked, because i want to be able to go in there and see the most updated data." okay but that's not the question i asked you!!!!!

me: "so what i have in the procedure i have screen-shared is we should do these updates on a quarterly basis." her, two minutes later: "so you guys will have to decide how often you're planning to update this info." me: "yeah that's why i have it in the procedure we should do it on a quarterly basis." her: "you'll just really need to choose how often it's done."

she does this all the time!!!! like you are supposed to be the leadership in our department so would it kill you just to give me a straight answer and lead??? can you PLEASE just say "well this is due twice a year, so you need to keep it updated every quarter" instead of this wishy-washy stuff? and also when i send you something and ask for your fucking input can you give it to me without me begging you on my hands and knees for it for a month and a half? and also ahead of the meeting so we don't have to waste half of it talking about stuff we could have already figured out if you were actually halfway decent at your job?????

[dice-boy]

hey what if there was 1 (one) single resource about how to deal with being abused as a teenager that isn't "talk to someone about it"

motherfucker how do I HEAL??

[nereidprinc3ss]

diva

in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL

As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 

Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”

“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 

“Whose side are you on?”

He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 

“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”

“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”

His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 

Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 

“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”

“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”

Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”

Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 

He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”

“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”

Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 

He bites his lip thoughtfully. 

“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”

“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”

He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”

“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”

“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”

You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 

“Don’t call me grouchy.”

“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 

The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 

“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”

Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”

“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 

“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”

Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”

Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”

While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanna move to the couch.”

He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 

“What are you doing?”

Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”

“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 

“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 

He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“This is… unprofessional.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”

That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 

“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 

“Tired.”

“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”

“Well… that’s all it was.”

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”

“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 

“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”

His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 

“Oh. I knew that.”

And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.

“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 

“Sleeping.”

You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 

“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”

“Like… in the mornings?”

“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”

“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”

You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 

It slowly fades, and you sigh. 

“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 

“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”

“I’d love to be a cyborg.”

“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”

“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”

“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”

He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 

“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”

“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”

“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”

“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”

You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 

“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”

You scoff. 

“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”

“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”

“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 

“What trouble?”

“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”

You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 

“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”

The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

A moment passes. 

It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”

He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”

How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?

When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”

[electroniccollectiondonut]

ugh the elementary I work at combined into one building with the district middle/high schools and now I have to make some Choices about my work schedule

[tchaikovskym]

I've had lazy autumn just to jump in ITS THE SECOND WEEK OF THE YEAR YOU HAVE TO DO 186469 THINGS FOR WORK AND 789 THINGS FOR SCHOOL AND 4 THINGS FOR ENSURING A NICE WEEKEND TRIP AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[fluffypotatey]

Shadowpeach's reaction to believing the other is dating again

ANON I AM SO SORRY T^T i meant to reply to this the moment I read it then got distracted and now it’s almost 1am (edit: it is now 1:30 lmao)

anyway,

you have come to ask me, a girlie who is a sucker for unhealthy shadowpeach and long time lover of the jealousy & possessive tropes, about shadowpeach’s hypothetical reactions of the two monkeys believing the other is back in the dating scene?

well, obviously, they would be completely fine. absolutely no negative reactions or breakdowns or obsessive thoughts hindering their ability to function and be mentally healthy. of course.

jk i lied: THEY WOULD BE SO HORRIBLE LMAO

however, i feel like swk would be more subtle about it. like maybe he hears something out of context said by MK or Mei or Tang or Red Son or Sandy (who might have also jumped to the same conclusion) and is like “oh……” and then is oddly quiet for maybe a month, freaking out MK

also, SWK would have his own internal battle of wanting to see Macky to confirm but also not wanting to see Macackle because the confirmation would break him. but he would make so many excuses to see Macaroon by visiting Pigsy’s noodle shop then chicken out when the time does come (the funny part of me says that Pigsy is the only one aware of SWK’s true intentions and is very annoyed about it)

the anger doesn’t really come until SWK feels fed up with Macaroni’s “mixed signals,” meaning Macky’s very bad attempts at being civil/flirting. because “if Macky thinks he can just use my feelings while being in a relationship he can think again!” (despite Macky never being in a relationship but Wukong never confirmed this so is mad for the sake of this hypothetical SO and himself while struggling with his own very messy feelings. because he likes it when Mac has his attention on him, he likes it when Mac tries to woo him the same way he had tried when they were younger and ignorant, he likes it when Mac cannot help but look at Wukong, he likes it when he makes Mac forget all about that stupid significant other because Wukong and Mac used to be something and could still be that something if Mac just gave Wukong a chance or if they had never ended their old relationship like the way they did. if only, if only, if only, if only, if only—

with Macky, ahahahaaaaaaa hoo boy.

not subtle. very unsubtle. like, yes, even Wukong can see and notice Macky’s very unsubtle and unstable self but unlike everybody else who is aware of the reason, Wukong would just be confused on why Macky is always weirdly snappy and grabby and always feel the need to mention Wukong’s love life????

anyway, Macky would not react well. 1) because it feeds into his angry theory that Wukong found their relationship to be superficial and temporary 2) he has been revived for, uh, *checks watch* not very long, so imagine going through a severe break up and dying them being resurrected and trying to enact revenge on your ex (of whom the feelings are still too raw) but you’ve been out of time for so long that you cannot process shit 3) it is my belief that Macky had nobody else as close to him as Wukong was

so, Macky hearing through the very botched grapevine that Wukong is back in the dating scene? man’s is not handling it well. house/apartment/whatever establishment he was staying in is trashed. he replans his revenge against Wukong. he stalks Wukong obsessively bc he has to see that bastard in the act because maybe then he’ll be free. he would sabotage any and all attempts of demons, humans, whoever that whispers about pursuing Wukong because….reasons

(obviously the reasons are not the fact that Wukong moving on terrifies him, the fact that he can be so easily replaced hurts, the fact that he cannot let go despite everything, the fact that Wukong still smiles the same, that Wukong still laughs the same but it’s so much lighter, that he understood what it was like to be loved and cared about by Wukong. to have all of his attention on Macky, to hold him so gently even though these same hands could break him (and have), to be treasured and desired by someone so powerful. how could Mackarell give up something so precious? he is still selfish and has been deprived for f that love for too long. why on earth would he ever wish for someone else to have a piece of what he once had?)

so yeah i’d say they would be coping sO well :)

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Everyone kept saying a bunch of things that made me feel bad about quitting but I slipped my resignation letter on the desk and RAN AWAY anyway