#here’s how losing the cop can still win

[vetuhoh]

can someone tell kenney the likely renoms being discussed are His Boys™️ so he doesn’t use the veto and goes home

[jakethesequel]

Welcome back to Tumblr's Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow Competition! Before we announce the final verdict, let's see how our "lovely" contestants are doing backstage!

VRISKA SERKET, hailing from welcoming Homestuck, is in the blue corner! She's a TROLL, a TELEPATH, and a THIEF. She has also attained GODHOOD, and I'm informed she did nothing wrong! Just off the heels of a dramatic loss in the recent Tumblrwoman Election, she deeply resents being trapped in this narrative device!

Her attire today is plain by Earth standards, but well put-together by ALTERNIAN ones. Nevertheless, she has been known to dress up on occasion, particularly in the colors of her ANCESTOR, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!

She is extraordinarily determined, and extremely manipulative. She will do anything she can to make herself into the hero her story needs, consequences be damned. Her actions have made her the source of eternal, vitriolic discourse. Some believe her entirely justified, some believe her a heartless villain, and others believe everything in between; every one steadfast and passionate about their specific stance! Love her or hate her: VRISKA!!!!!!!!

HARRIER DU BOIS, also known as HARRY, sometimes referring to himself as RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU or THE REINCARNATION OF KRAS MAZOV, is here representing scenic Disco Elysium! He is a DETECTIVE, an ALCOHOLIC, a recent AMNESIAC, and a WASTE of ENERGY. Having just recently recovered from an attempt at drinking himself to death, we thought inviting him to compete might raise his spirits some! Unfortunately he does not seem to be totally aware of his surroundings, as he has already tried to touch himself twice on air!

His garish and mismatched clothes are STAINED with seemingly every substance a human body can produce. His face is locked in an EXPRESSION that can only induce disgust and discomfort in those who view it.

The few memories he can draw from his fractured mind paint him as violent, selfish, cruel, and pitiful. He has been trying to get over a breakup for six years, and has only partially succeeded through near-total retrograde amnesia. Worst of all, he's still somehow a decently successful cop. He has no friends and few allies on Revachol, with perhaps the sole exception of the impossibly patient and composed Lt. Kim Katsuragi. Even among his fans, you'd be hard pressed to find one who'd defend him, and ever harder pressed to find one willing to stand in the same room as him. Nevertheless, from the safe distance of fiction, let's hear it for HARRY!

In but a few moments, the doors in front of them will open, and they will be able to approach the trophy onto which we have engraved the name of the winner. 5… 4… 3… 2…

AND THE WINNER IS: VRISKAAAAAAAA SERKET!

—

Vriska: WH8T THE FUCK.

Vriska: WHAT THE F8CK!!!!!!!!

Vriska: I WON THIS????????

Vriska: You pieces of shit can't supp8rt me to win ag8inst some lanky rain8bow-drinking 8itch, 8ut 8eat one-in-fuck8ng 16777216 odds to win poorest, wettest, saddest, littlest g8ddamn meow8east?

Logic [Easy:Success]: She won. That means we lost.

Conceptualization [Challenging:Failure]: Another loss in a long, long line of losses.

Pain Threshold: You've gotten used to the feeling by now. Losing something barely even hurts anymore.

Endurance: You still carry each one with you. Well, except…

Volition: Not now. Not yet.

Authority [Medium:Success]: This doesn't have to stay a loss. Stare the girl down. Challenge her. Don't let this be taken from you.

Wait, what *is* she doing, anyway?

Perception: The grey girl seems to be shouting at someone, but there's no one else here.

Vriska: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Inland Empire [Godly:Success]: The unseen audience, the string-pullers of fate. The sadistic writer terrorizing their creation. The storybook itself, the confines it sets. She has seen the death of the author, and needs more.

Empathy [Medium:Failure]: What's got her so upset?

Harry: Is there something wrong with you?

Vriska: I'm not taking that from a walking dumpster, asshole!

Suggestion: There's still time to fix this. Say something nice, quickly.

Harry: I just mean, you seem upset. I thought you'd be celebrating your win. It’s a big accomplishment, right?

Vriska: Are you kidding?

Drama: Are we, sire? Should we be, perhaps?

Vriska: You thought I’d 8e cele8r8ing this? A vote for the most pitia8le, pathetic person in paradox space? I’m not so desper8 to fill my pity quadrant that I need to resort to CROWDFUNDING! That’s like the lowest form of 8egging!

Electrochemistry: You are that desperate. Don’t think we're above begging for it, piggy.

Conceptualization [Easy:Success]: Oh. This was not a contest one wants to win. Maybe our loss was for the best.

Vriska: And I WON!!!!!!!! With this kind of competition, HOW did I get all the votes? All of them!

Reaction Speed [Trivial:Success]: "This kind of competition?" She’s talking about you! Say something!

Harry: It was a tight race. You fought with honor.

Vriska: IT SH8ULDN’T HAVE FUCKIN8 8EEN!

Vriska: Look at you! What the fuck kind of su8juggl8or suit are you wearing? Did someone 8leed on it?

Savoir Faire: No, no, this outfit is *cool*. You just have to give it a little *disco*, man.

Strike a pose.

Vriska: …

Vriska: You can’t seriously think any of that is appealing.

Vriska: Your clothes look like they were dragged out of 8 different gar8age 8ins.

Vriska: You couldn’t 8e more greasy and stained if you drowned in a pail of 8rooding slurry. From the st8 of your body, you actually might have!

Physical Instrument: I told you. You need to cultivate more mass.

Composure [Challenging:Failure]: Please, don’t start crying in front of a teenager.

You realize that you already have.

Vriska: Are you seriously crying right now? I might not 8e an expert on the human metamorphological process 8ut you definitely aren’t a pupa anymore. Shit, you look like you’re halfway dead already. Grow up, Pupa Pan!

Endurance: You need to stop this, now, before you break down further.

Harry: Fuck off, fucking spidery bitch! Leave me alone!

Vriska: Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen a grown man act this pathetic 8efore. How the hell did you not win this!?!?!?!? Do you even have a single thing going for you?

Esprit De Corps: You have a badge and a gun. You are a Detective Lieutenant-Yefreitor of the RCM. At least for now, you have that.

Harry: I’m a pretty good fucking cop.

Vriska: There are no good cops you dum8 8itch!

Authority: Make her stop.

Vriska: I’ve known you less than a minute and you already disgust me. I feel 8ad for the people that actually have to 8e near you.

Half Light: Do what you have to do and do it now.

Vriska: You deserved to win this. I don’t know how you can live like that. 8ack home you would have 8een culled sweeps ago.

Hand Eye Coordination [Legendary:Success]: You have never fired a shot so quickly or instinctually. You didn’t even know your gun was loaded. You pulled it out the way a cat scratches a hand, or a drunk pisses himself. You don’t remember when violence became second nature to you, but you didn’t forget how to do it either.

Harry: Oh, God.

Perception (Sight): Is that blood… blue?

Visual Calculus [Legendary:Success]: Light swirls and shimmers around the girl’s body, flashing a technicolor code you cannot decipher. Her body floats into the air, and her eyes flash open. All eight of them.

Inland Empire: No justice. No heroism. Just mindless violence.

Half Light: RUN.

Vriska: OW!

Vriska: Oh no you fucking don’t!!!!!!!!

(♏) Volition [Impossible:Failure]: You try to run, but your will is seemingly powerless to drive your body. I’m sorry.

Physical Instrument: Don’t look at me. I’m in great shape.

Interfacing: Connections seem fine. Don’t tell me we have to unplug him again…

♏Vriska♏: What the fuck.

Harry: Wh-wh-what are you doing to me?

Vriska: Shut up I’m trying to f8cus!

Inland Empire: Welcome, Thief of Light.

♏Vriska♏: What the hell is wrong with you?

Encyclopedia: Severe alcoholism. Retrograde amnesia. Partial facial paralysis. Dehydration. Heart palpi- (♏)

♏Vriska♏: 8e quiet, 8ook8rain! I’m trying to rifle through memories here and it’s a MESS!

Interfacing: We haven’t quite organized since our recent… restructuring. Try the thought cabinet.

Rhetoric: Don’t tell her that!

♏Vriska♏: Too late, sucker! Found it!

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: Jegus christ.

♏Vriska♏: In pu8lic? Why would you—

♏Vriska♏: Ugh!

♏Vriska♏: You said THAT?

♏Vriska♏: There was a8solutely no reason to do ANY of that, what the hell!

♏Vriska♏: You should honestly just kill yourself if you’re going to keep 8eing such a fuckup!

Reaction Speed: Yes!

Logic: Sound. You should kill yourself.

Empathy: It would make everyone feel better.

Endurance: Hasn’t this all gone on long enough?

Savoir Faire: It’s a hell of a statement.

Drama: The noble sacrifice, like Romeo, like Juliet!

Rhetoric: You should kill yourself NOW!

Authority: She has bested you. Listen to your better.

Half Light: Anything to get away from her.

Volition: …

♏Vriska♏: Can you creeps 8e normal for two damn seconds?

MORALE CRITICAL

The light fades from your eyes, and you fall to the floor.

Shivers: You are being called back where you belong....

—

Kim: Yes, Lieutenant. A fascinating dream. I’m sorry you did not win the competition.

Harry: What do you think it means, Kim? Do you think it could be some kind of message? Should I try to find that girl?

Kim: “That girl?”

Harry: Yeah! Vriska!

Kim: No, Lieutenant. I do not think you should go looking for Vriska Serket from Homestuck. Perhaps try looking for the killer in our murder case?

[fluentmoviequoter]

Call a Truce

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You and Tim have a rivalry that began when you were rookies. Years later, you continue competing in everything you do, even when you're helping Tim get out of a dangerous situation.

Warnings: Tim gets hurt (tased, cut, broken ribs, goes to the hospital), angst, mentions of robberies, fluff! pretty standard Rookie warnings I think

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You’re going to pass your rookie exam,” your TO said on your second day of training. “But there’s one thing I need you to do. Score higher than Bradford.”

And, like that, a rivalry was born.

Years after you started competing against Tim Bradford to be the best rookie, your rivalry has only strengthened. Everyone in your station knows about your competitive natures, but to outsiders and visitors, it seems like you and Tim hate one another. There has never been any real animosity, only competition and everything that comes with it.

“We’re riding together today,” Tim says.

You turn quickly, surprised to see him standing beside you. “What?” you ask.

“I just talked to Grey. We’re riding together, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Something to do with the string of robberies, I presume.”

“And he thought you would need help from a competent cop,” you reply with a nod. “I guess I can make time for that.”

“If that’s what you need to hear to actually try for once. I could find the guy on my own faster than you can get out of the shop.”

“We’ll see about that,” you scoff.

“We certainly will. The first one to spot anything gets a point, making contact gets five, and the arresting officer gets fifty. Deal?”

You look at Tim’s hand and wrinkle your nose in faux disgust before you shake. “You’re going down, Bradford.”

“And you’ll break the fall, boot.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Bradford!” Grey yells. “Let’s go! Roll call doesn’t wait for you.”

You smirk as you step backward toward the door. “Such a bad cop, Bradford. Keep your social schedule on your own time.”

“You wish you were part of my social schedule,” he counters.

“At least you’d have one then. When I have fifty-six winning points, maybe I’ll invite you to the celebration.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows you inside. He can’t remember the last time he did anything with you that wasn’t a competition. You’re both good cops, though, so as long as you get the job done, your work rivalry isn’t hurting anyone.

“What’s it like?” you ask from the passenger seat.

“What’s what like?” Tim replies.

“Being a control freak that still loses.”

“Cute,” Tim mumbles. “At least I didn’t have to wear long sleeves for an extra month like someone I know.”

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t deserve that,” you agree. “You’re just a terrible TO, so you knew she wasn’t ready.”

“Or maybe she picked the wrong cop to idolize,” Tim snaps.

“Tim? Did you just admit that Lucy thinks I’m a better cop than you?” you ask happily. “Because I knew she had good taste, but I wasn’t sure if you knew that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for a suspect instead of obsessing over how people see you?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving instead of getting angry because I’m right?”

Tim takes a deep breath and returns his attention to the road. You push his buttons, but he pushes you just as hard. Everything between you is competitive, there’s a deep-seated need to prove that you’re better because of how your TOs treated you in your boot days.

Your phone rings, and you wave Tim off before he can tell you not to answer it.

“Detective Lopez,” you greet, though you say it toward Tim. “How can I help you?”

“Can you come back to the station or are you too busy flirting- I mean competing with Tim?” she asks.

“I can come back. Tim?” you begin.

“Got it,” he interjects softly. He hits his blinker and enters a turn lane to take you back.

“I’ll be there in ten,” you tell Angela.

“Thank you. We got a lead on where the stolen goods may be stashed but we’re shorthanded.”

“No problem.”

Angela ends the call, and you look at the road as you think about the details of the case. Something isn’t adding up. They know plenty about the suspect, but not where he lives or where all of the stolen property ended up. The guy seems homeless.

“Guess she figured out that you’re not going to find anything out here that I can’t find alone,” Tim muses.

“Or she knows that I’ve got a better chance of blowing this case open if you’re not aimlessly dragging me around the city.”

“What’d she say?” Tim asks.

“They found a lead and don’t have enough people to trace it. You can ride alone, as far as they know, so I get to track down tips.”

“I’ll find our guy before you find anything helpful,” Tim declares.

“Yeah, right!” you argue, turning in your seat to face him. “First one to find something that the detectives deem useful wins.”

“Wins what?”

You purse your lips as you think. There are not many rewards left that you and Tim haven’t already competed for. Maybe it shouldn’t be a material item, you think.

“The loser admits, in roll call tomorrow, that the winner is a better cop,” you suggest.

“It would be fun to hear you say that,” Tim says quietly. “Deal.”

He extends his right hand over the console, and you shake it firmly before sitting back in your seat. When he arrives back at the station, you exit the shop and salute him sarcastically before you walk inside. You begin to worry very quickly that the lead Angela called you back for may not be anything. No matter what, you have to beat Tim because you can’t lose.

“Control, this is Bradford, can you get me information on who owns 1219 Larga Avenue?” Tim radios.

“1219 Larga Avenue is leased by Corporeal Corporations,” control answers.

“A shell corporation,” Tim says to himself.

He’s been following a vehicle matching one listed on the case report. It isn’t the suspect’s vehicle, but one of his acquaintances’. Tim parks down the street and watches the house from his side mirror for several minutes. Whoever was driving the car seems to be staying for a while.

“Control, this is Bradford. I’m approaching the house, code 6-Charles.”

“Assistance on standby.”

Tim opens his door and then hesitates. In his uniform, he has no chance of getting close to anyone in that house. He could approach the house next door to gather intel about how many people are inside, but that could spook them and get innocent people hurt. The third option, one he will never admit to learning from you, is to play the part of a stupid cop at the wrong house.

“Officer!” a woman yells across the street.

Tim gestures for her to quiet before he closes his door and walks across the street. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks.

“There was this car that kept driving up and down the road yesterday! It was a young boy and an older man, and they would just drive down, turn around, and come back. I live here, my children play here, and if this is going to become a cesspool of gang people, someone needs to do something!” she explains.

“Ma’am, it sounds to me like a man may have just been teaching his son how to drive on a residential street, which is neither illegal nor gang-related. If you see them again, call the non-emergency line and someone will come make sure everything is alright.”

Tim has dealt with his fair share of stupid complaints, but he can’t even be bothered by this one. Not when something malicious may be taking place four houses away. The woman huffs as she turns to go back to her home. Just as she turns off the sidewalk, someone shoots.

Tim dives behind a nearby car and braces himself against the back bumper. Based on the spray of bullets destroying the car, Tim guesses it’s numerous semi-automatic rifles that he’s up against.

“Dispatch, I need that backup! I’m taking heavy fire,” he radios.

A moment later, dispatch calls, “Code 99” with his location. Tim curses; he doesn’t need every cop in the county coming to his rescue, just one or two. The bullets slow, and Tim moves carefully to the edge of the vehicle. Three men stand in the yard, and he aims his gun at the one closest to him. While he’s replacing the magazine into the gun, Tim shoots his leg, and he falls to the ground. The others open fire again, and Tim spins to be out of sight again.

A heavy hand lands on Tim’s shoulder, and before he can react, a knife is pressed to his throat. Everything goes silent as he’s lifted to his feet and shoved toward the sidewalk. The men have taken their injured partner inside, and Tim knows that once he’s in that house, he is as good as dead.

“Look, man, I just came to answer another call. Let me go and nothing happens,” he tells the man pushing him.

“You already called for backup.”

“And they’ll go to the other house, see a shot-up car. The most you have to do is answer the door and say ‘No, officer, I didn’t see a thing.’”

“You won’t see a thing if you don’t shut up,” the man growls as they near the door.

Tim stands up straighter, and when the knife falls toward his chest rather than his neck, he kicks backward and into the man’s knee. The knife scrapes across Tim’s uniform, but he doesn’t feel it as he turns to face the door and grabs his gun. His hand reaches the holster, but it’s empty. Tim looks around and realizes that his gun must be behind the car. He retrieves the knife from the ground and prepares to run for the car, but two prongs from a taser enter his chest before he can, and he collapses beside his fourth assailant. Sirens echo in the distance as Tim fights to stay conscious. The man on the porch squeezes the trigger again, and Tim only feels the first twitch of his legs before everything stops.

“LAPD, open up!” you yell.

You are moments away from punching the door when it swings open. Immediately, you recognize the long-haired man as your robbery suspect. The chances of him being alone are slim, though, so you can’t think about Tim right now, only about getting this man in custody without getting hurt or killed.

“How can I help, officer?” he asks, leaning against the door to block your view inside.

“I just have a question about the car parked down the street,” you explain with a friendly smile.

“All of my cars are here in my driveway. Maybe ask someone else.”

“So, you don’t know who owns the grey sedan with all the bullet holes and a dead body in the back?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Dead body,” he repeats. He looks past you like he’s trying to figure out how that got there.

“The owner?” you press.

“Oh, sure, uh Miguel, I think is his name. Big guy down the street.”

“Thank you so much for your help. Could I just get your name for my report?” you ask.

“Cody Lambert,” he answers, still looking past you.

You’re surprised that he gives you his real name. Your lie about the body in his car jarred him more than you expected.

“And are you here alone today?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He shifts slightly, and you can see an empty living room behind him. You have an opportunity, but if you take it and you’re wrong, you may be putting Tim’s life on the line.

“Could you point out which house Miguel lives in? I’m terrible with numbers and directions.” You laugh at yourself to sell your dumb act and pray that it works.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stepping out onto the porch.

He closes the door behind him, and you waste no time pushing him down onto the ground. You keep his face turned toward the dirt so he can’t yell as you secure the handcuffs.

“You’re under arrest,” you say in his ear. “And if you yell when I pick you up, I can’t promise anything. If you stay quiet, though, I’ll get you the best pro bono attorney in the state. Understood?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your offer, so you drive your knee between his kidneys and repeat, “Understood?”

He groans against the ground before a muffled, “Yes,” reaches your ears. You pull him up and walk him to your shop where it’s parked in front of the next house. As you reach for the radio to alert dispatch, a gun is fired inside the house.

“Too late,” your suspect says as you turn to look.

You abandon the radio on the floorboard of the passenger seat and slam the door. As you return to the front door and kick it in, you keep your gun ready. There isn’t time to waste in a situation like this, and Tim is counting on you. If he’s still here and still alive, that is.

When you reach a closed door at the end of the hallway after clearing the other rooms, you raise your gun before you and kick the door open. It hits the wall with a thud as you step over the threshold. One of Cody’s known acquaintances blocks your path, with a puddle of blood beneath him. You look past him to clear the room, but see what you’re looking for before you finish.

“Tim,” you say when you see him stretched out on a broken twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles. “And I won.”

You lean over him as you holster your weapon. He is injured and needs assistance, but his radio is smashed and yours is in the shop.

“Are there more of them?” you ask.

“There’s four.”

Tim hasn’t opened his eyes yet, which concerns you. More concerning, however, is the knowledge that there are two more people around this house. You cleared it, but they could be waiting in the attic or just outside.

“I’ll go call for help,” you tell Tim. “Stay alert.”

As you turn, heavy footsteps rattle the walls of the hallway. You look back to Tim and know you can’t leave him here. Even if you do argue, compete, and tease each other, you’re both cops and you have to protect one another. Plus, you care about him, and it hurts you to see him like this. Carefully, you push the door closed and lock it. There’s nothing in the room to block it with… except for the suspect on the floor.

“Did you shoot him?” you whisper. “How?”

“His gun,” Tim mumbles.

You tilt your head quickly, surprised and impressed, though you know Tim has more training in this kind of thing than the average cop. The guy is heavy, literally dead weight, but you roll him against the door as an extra cover before you sidestep the blood puddle and return to Tim’s side.

“Where are you hurt?” you whisper as you kneel beside him.

Tim hums, and you know he’s fading fast. You murmur an apology before you begin unbuttoning his uniform. When you begin to pull it open, you notice two taser prongs buried in his pec muscles. You pull them out quickly and squeeze your eyes closed when Tim grunts.

With his shirt open, you can see a several bloody spots, a scrape against his chest, and swelling on his right side. Gently laying a hand over his t-shirt, you know that his ribs are broken.

“I need to look, Tim,” you say as you grab the bottom of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

You pull his shirt up carefully and inhale sharply when you see the bruises littering his torso and chest. The swelling looks worse without fabric over it.

“Can you breathe well?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head, a small movement that you feel more than see. There’s a chance that his broken rib has punctured a lung, and he needs medical attention now.

“Thank you,” Tim says. His eyes are still closed, but you watch his face as he says it.

A few moments later, Tim moves his left hand to catch yours as you look at the scrape spanning his chest. He squeezes your wrist softly and your eyes raise to his.

Tim blinks his eyes open and waits until he finds your face to ask, “Why are you helping me?”

“Tim,” you begin. “Why wouldn’t I? You can’t tell me that you think I hate you because of our rivalry. That’s all it has ever been, competition.”

Tim nods as his eyes close again. “I thought you’d be a better cop than me,” he mumbles. “But I got a promotion first.”

You chuckle, trying to ignore the pressure behind your eyes as you watch him lose the battle to stay conscious. In this moment, you feel something that you’ve never experienced before. All the teasing, and the competition to stay close to Tim, were different than this. The care you show him now helps you to see him differently.

Similarly, though his thoughts are jumbled in a mix of pain and adrenaline, Tim sees you as he never has before. Your soft touches, apologies, and clear care and concern for him awaken something in him. Maybe it’s been sleeping or maybe it wasn’t there before today, but Tim likes having you close like this.

“Promise me something,” you whisper. “When we get out of this, we’ll know that we both won.”

Tim nods, and you carefully remove your hand from his. With your gun, plus the one Tim used to kill Cody’s goon, you climb out of the window to get Tim help and the first aid kit from your shop. He knows you’re a good cop, but without you by his side, he can’t take the pain and the worry together, and he finally succumbs to the darkness again.

“I feel fine!” Tim argues with the nurse. “I can go home. There’s no reason to keep me here.”

“The doctors want to observe you overnight to ensure there’s no long-term damage, Officer Bradford,” she replies. “If you stop complaining, it will go faster.”

You knock on the open door with a bag in your hand, and the nurse waves you inside before she leaves. Tim looks at you from his hospital bed, and you offer a small smile. In the minutes after you left Tim in the house, you called for backup, searched the house again, put another suspect in custody, and got into a one-on-one fight with the last one. Tim doesn’t know just how much you went through in those five minutes that you waited for more backup, and he doesn’t need to. All that matters is that he’s safe and is getting better.

“How are you?” you ask.

“Fine,” he answers, watching the bag in your hand.

“Yeah, it’s for you.”

You pass him the bag with his favorite food, a play-by-play of last night’s game, and a picture of Kojo from the dogsitter. As he looks through it, you decide to tell him what you stayed awake thinking about. You finished filing your report as the sun rose over LA, and then you spent the few hours before you could visit Tim thinking of only one thing.

“I think we should call a truce,” you suggest. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours.”

“I don’t want a truce,” Tim answers quickly. “We push each other to be better. We need that.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Then what do we do? Because I can’t go back to just competing all the time, not after what happened.”

“What happened?”

“If you didn’t feel it, I can’t explain it to you, Tim,” you answer softly, wringing your fingers together.

“You want to be more than competitive friends?” Tim guesses.

You shrug, and he shakes his head.

“I won’t stop competing with you or-“

“Taking figurative shots at me?” you finish playfully. “Better than real shots. I’m fine with not changing that part of our relationship, Tim. Besides, you and I both know that our friends are nosy, and it would be awful if we just started being nice to each other.”

Tim nods, and after a moment, looks at you. He extends his hand toward you, and you happily take it.

“Would you like to go to dinner after I get out of here?” he asks.

“I’d love that. I’m also planning to pass you during the next promotion. Then you can call me Sergeant when you try to tell me you’re better than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tim responds. “But I get to pick where we go since I did win the last competition.”

“I saved your life!”

“But I found our guy.”

“Maybe we both won,” you remind him.

A few weeks later, you kept your promise and now outrank Tim. Not for long, you assume, because he’s a great cop with a bright future, but for now it’s fun to remind him that you’re a Sergeant while he’s still an Officer. “Whoever makes the first arrest today gets to pick where we go on our date Saturday,” you say.

“Whatever you want, Sergeant,” Tim answers.

He tilts your chin gently before he kisses you. You sigh in contentment, happier than ever with Tim. When he releases you, you both climb out of his truck and walk toward the station.

“When I get a position on Metro, I get to say it first,” Tim says as he opens the door for you.

“That’s not fair!” you argue, blocking the doorway.

“If you’re scared that it’ll happen too soon, just say so,” Tim taunts.

“Fine,” you agree, offering your hand to shake.

He shakes your hand, then pulls you into a quick kiss.

“Have a nice day, Sergeant,” he calls as he walks away.

“You too, boot.”

[thrashkink-coven]

Okay here’s the hard part.

I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)

But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?

Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.

It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?

God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.

My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”

Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*

The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.

“Even if he hurts a child?”

God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.

I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.

WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.

Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.

But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?

Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.

This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.

To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.

So I will stop you.

- James Baldwin

[llamagoddessofficial]

Llamaaaaa, I’ve got major brain rot over the Maifia babes! Would the situation/ romancing of reader change much if she were the daughter of a rival, Don or a straight and narrow police captain?

oooh... the daughter of a police captain? It might change a few things

Sans: He lies to everyone. Her dad is no exception. He's dedicated every aspect of himself to ensuring she belongs to him- what's one more person to lie to? Though staging her father's death was certainly an option, Sans draws an oddly specific line at killing family (wonder why?).

Sans is charming, in the way many stereotypical sociopaths are. He plays the safe, stable, polite boyfriend that wins her family over with bad jokes and good manners. His facade of having a boring and safe (yet very successful) banking job means Mc's dad might even actively prefer Sans over her past partners, because he believes she'll be safe.

And... well. He's not wrong. The only times Sans has ever been honest with Mc's father was when asked if he loved her, and if he'd keep her safe.

Red: Fuck cops. Red's gonna be the irresistible bad boy with a heart of gold, the attractive and dangerous side of life that she's been denied until now. Power and glamour and parties and all the wild luxuries and freedoms his protection brings- what's her dad gonna do, arrest him for taking a consenting pretty lady on expensive dates? Red likes subtly gloating about how the cops have absolutely no evidence against him for anything.

... He's also going to show her the reality of the police. He'll show her just why he's so antagonistic toward a captain. Things are a lot more complex than her 'straight and narrow' dad has lead her to believe, it's never been as simple as the good cops vs. the evil monsters... why do you think he got so powerful in the first place, doll? Here's a clue; it wasn't because the cops were well liked.

... Cop or not, though, Red gets antsy at the thought of her losing someone she loves. So for the time being, Mc's dad is unaware that Red's 'family' have designated him completely off-limits. Red may despise everything her father stands for, but he's not going to let the man die.

Skull: It doesn't change much about his wooing method. He's still a mess, he still tries to win her over with classical romance methods and pretty things. Who her family is has absolutely no meaning to him. Though... he might start deliberately targeting people who pose a threat to her, considering her dad is most likely well known.

Honestly, if it gets to the point where she's bringing Skull home to meet her family, I can see Mc's dad taking something of a weird shine to Skull. Not knowing about the giant's crimes, obviously. Skull might be physically imposing, but her dad has met a lot of imposing people, and when Skull is around Mc he just seems so... harmless. Like a puppy following her around, waiting for a pat. Skull's total adoration is so clear and untainted that it shines through his terrible appearance.

Her dad gets the strong feeling that no matter what Skull does, he will always put Mc first. He approves of that.

[toxictigertonic]

Glad to see that my mad ramblings are entertaining this corner of the outlast community, I will continue to talk until I've juiced the smooth ball of gum I call a brain of all its flavor. Pspsps Franco fans hiiii tell me what I should draw him doing/wearing pleaaaase.

Today's headcanons are: How are the prime assets when it comes to board/card games?

COYLE

- Do not play games with this man unless you want to have the least fun of your life.

- He has the rule book out on the table as you're playing so he can read them off at any point.

- In fact I know that fucker memorizes game rules and starts fighting people if they don't play by them.

- "WE GOT LAWS AROUND HERE! WE GOT FUCKING LAWS!" "Leland calm down we're playing uno..."

- If he catches someone cheating he's hopping the table, there's a crime in progress and he's about to be SUCH a good cop.

- Play monopoly with him to experience The Thrill of being tased over fake money.

- If you use a +4 on this man in Uno he will scream until you show him your hand to make SURE you're not lying about not having any other cards to use. He'll also pout about you using it in general.

- The sorest loser ever, genuinely. Somehow worse than Franco. And Franco is a baby man with a gun.

- It should be a rule that he's not allowed to play cards with Franco but Phyllis is stubborn and wants them to get along. It never ends well.

- Gets far too giddy playing Mousetrap.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- Forces Leland and Franco into game nights. They can't say no or they'll upset her, thereby upsetting Futterman, thereby risking their lives to The Goose.

- Has a massive collection of card games and board games, take your pick.

- And she knows how to play all of them, mind you. She has the rules memorized as well but doesn't have an electric stick up her ass like somebody we know.

- LOVES Candyland and Parcheesi. The brighter and more colorful the board the more she finds it adorable.

- Futterman eats pieces when Phyllis is losing. Don't turn around he's a hungry little guy.

- He got caught eating pieces once and had to wear the Bag of Shame for multiple game nights afterwards.

- Futterman also is allowed to play the games, somehow always wins in the end. Leland is suspicious of him cheating (but isn't willing to face drill wrath to investigate)

- Have I mentioned that Futterman will call both Franco and Leland awful names when he's losing? Because he does. Has made both of them cry before. Game night had to end early and Phyllis felt very bad.

- Not a sore loser per se, but will ask to play again until she wins. Futterman will stare whoever down until they agree to another round.

- If you don't help her put away the board or cards she's holding a grudge. And if pieces are missing you BETTER help find them, even if it means shaking them out of Futterman's mouth.

FRANCO

- Play silly games, win silly prizes. I'm saying if you try to beat him at cards (and you're not a fellow prime asset or someone whose lap he wants access to) you're getting shot in the foot.

- He's required to turn in Lupara at the beginning of game nights now after he tried to take Coyle's shin off. He only gives Lupara up bc Phyllis asks so nicely (and because he's a simp lol).

- Really good at cards, but still cheats. Mainly to fuck with Coyle. He'll take any opportunity to piss that man off.

- Sometimes wants to play solitaire like an adult, other times he's playing candyland with Phyllis having the time of his life.

- If it's a game with unique pieces you BETTER let him pick his piece first or he's throwing a tantrum.

- If Leland's winning he'll kick him under the table then say he was imagining things. Leland is THIS 👌 close to starting a fight.

- He lets Phyllis win to get on her good side. Doesn't matter the game, he'll let her win. Gets pissy when she wins naturally though.

- He always tries to gamble when they play anything. Coyle does not approve of gambling. Have I mentioned these two want each other dead?

- Phyllis complimented him on being really good at shuffling a deck of cards and he rode that high for weeks.

- Very good at convincing the others that it's his turn if they've lost track of who goes next. Doesn't matter if he just went, he will get to go again.

- Likes to play card matching games by himself when he doesn't wanna think about the game too hard. Phyllis sometimes sits with him and plays too. Futterman calls them both stupid if they fuck up.

I love how much Franco and Leland hate each other I want them to fist fight ❤️. Lock them in a room together and whoever crawls out at the end wins. No weapons just two bald bastards.

[shallowseeker]

DEAN: *is all watery-eyed and weird when cas dies the first time*

CAS: *returns and is very, very Cranky (TM) and yelling at everyone*

Instead of being happy, relieved, or appreciative of one another's fighting spirit outright, they fall into a pattern of fighting and banter. They're full of fear, fatalism, and their own discordant Hail-Mary-style ideas.

And they disagree with each other. Their fear, in general, manifests in being short with one another and hilariously calling each other's plans stupid.

They're very immature and ill-equipped to handle caring about each other, basically. It's kinda cute.

They could say "thank you," or "I'm glad you're okay." Instead? Cas flies out of the gate, bossily laying into them about needing to be more careful. Later, he arrives at the hospital and calls the plan of fighting Lucifer stupid.

When Dean responds that Cas's plan is even stupider, Cas tells Dean that he wasn't worth rebelling for at all because he's a failure and should shut the Hell up.

Glorious.

There's so much Weird tension getting in the way of what should be a renewed brother-in-arms-friendship. It should be simple, a hearty hug between friends, some thuds on the back—you know, a simple "we made it, brother!" style of camaraderie.

Instead, they're weird about it.

///

And while Dean is usuallyweird (he's a weird, word-vomitey guy at heart), he's being epically weird in 5x03.

I'd say he's being even weirder than Cas is at times, and not just about his nervousness surrounding personal space.

It's everything.

It's even played for laughs a little bit. Cas says a lot of weird shit to the cop, and then somehow gains the cop's trust anyway.

Right after this, the cop calls Dean out, but not Cas.

"Uh, no, Kolchak."

In the end, Cas winds up having the advantage in this bizarre exchange. In a surprise twist, the officer has responded better to Cas's frank honesty than to Dean's sarcasm and indirectness.

///

But anyway, it's no wonder Dean's being odd. Man's Hella stressed.

Per the conversation with Sam at the end of 5x01, Dean is barely hanging in there. "He's trying." But he's also feeling the weight of his own fatalism. "I'll fight, but we haven't got a snowball's chance in Hell of winning."

And I personally think he's still anxious post-Cas's first death.

That's a frightening thing to contend with, that one of your strongest, "seemingly invincible" Superman allies can die. It rocks the tenuous stability beneath your feet, so to speak.

Here's the strangest thing: Cas asks Dean to go on a mission with him. But even after Cas straight-up tells Dean no angel would dare harm him, Dean assumes that they're both going to die anyway.

...

I think this speaks to Dean's issues focusing. His anxiety must be through the roof, because he's usually so good at hanging on to details like that.

There's also his guilt surrounding Cas facing Raphael alone the first time. And it's coming out this way.

This time, he's automatically cast himself in the role of being there alongside Cas, dying alongside him.

It's not until later that his denial falls away and the truth catches up to him, that Cas means to die alone:

Cas repeats himself, that the archangel wouldn't dare harm Dean:

This is not a revelation.

Cas told him as such right off the bat. But like in the scene with Chuck, Dean's brain prefers to dive straight into denial.

It's interesting for a character like Dean. He's VERY used to losing people, but with Cas, there's a creeping denial and disappointment clouding the whole thing.

There's probably already a crush there... it's coming out in watery eyes and hilarious ADHD-word vomit (Thelma-Louise, fussing about personal space and then getting into his personal space, Bert-n-Ernie-are-gay, last night on earth) because Dean doesn't know what to do with it.

He doesn't know how to handle the confusing mix of feelings. He had a lot of them when Cas died the first time. Now, where can that energy even go?

The face journey he goes on as he realizes Cas is expecting to die... again.

It's a little sad, tbh.

///

And then later, when they face off against Raphael, facing him together as Raphael enters "their" kitchen, Dean's fears all come out as jokes and banter again.

It's his preferred defense mechanism against strong emotions. He's worried, but he can't show it.

///

Another thing.

I think it's neat that they're squatting in this cute, dilapidated house.

Raphael appears in a kitchen, recreating the circumstances of Cas's first death in Chuck's kitchen.

Some other cute details about the house they're chosen. Dean has his usual cooler, but here he's put it near the hearth of the home, one of his motifs. He acts as bait, drawing Raphael nearer while Cas moves to attack him.

But the specter of the hearth is still meaningful.

And while Dean distracts Raphael, they lure him deeper into the home, a space they're controlling together.

And still, they banter. Cause they're immature and adorable.

DEAN: "Don't look at me it was his idea."

Aside// The lantern and the beer bottles.

Here, we get another glimpse of their symbols. For Cas, it's this dark lantern on the table; it's been on the table "with him"on his side" since the very beginning of squatting in this house.

It symbolizes both Cas himself and this concept of Dean waiting for him. "Where have you been?"

The fact that this lantern is OUT is a callback to Cas's death, and a nod to his current fatalism.

///

Actually, the house they're squatting in IS pretty cute. The table they sit at together is cute. Here we have the two of them, mutually aching over their absent fathers... and reeling over the painful, complicated brokenness and betrayals with their respective brothers (Raphael, Sam).

The inside of this house is "dead and dusty," but there's new growth just peeking into the window. Greenness. Renewal.

This living room, where they're spending time together, also contains important Dean-Cas symbols: empty chairs, lanterns, and an unlit hearth.

While the two of them are trying desperately to fix their respective families, they're automatically carving out their own living space together, instinctually, almost without knowing or trying.

It's also funny that we see some of the strife that will color their relationship. It looks like Dean wound up doing a lot of waiting around, and he's irritated about it.

Note the prominently lit empty Cas-chair. While Cas runs off to do his suicidal Heaven errands, Dean waits up for him in a room with a hearth and a conspicuously placed lantern.

Cas appears in front of the stairs. Later, these stairs will be prominently lit by the only lit lantern in the entire house.

///

Here we go. Dean and Cas return to face off against Raphael in the house they've come to bond in—in a home they control. Now, the stairs are highlighted by a homey, welcoming light.

It's the only lantern on.

It leads upstairs to the bedroom, or it's a nod to "Heaven" if you prefer that reading.

But it seems to me that this light is conspicuous like, despite the storm and the power outage, these two are carrying a secret torch for each other, a nascent longing to cobble a life together.

Raphael's pyrotechnics are exploding all the lights except this one, after all. Perhaps the lighted stairs represent them as a Heaven-Earth unit, Heaven + home, the one who guards the door + and the one who lights the hearth:

///

And goodness, some of these images are lovely.

Raphael breaks the window, letting the storm into the little nook they'd carved for themselves.

The lantern and the beer bottle.

That's their table!

It's funny. It's almost like they instinctively gravitate to trying to fix/rebuild a home when they're together. They naturally want to fall into this weird... rhythm of life.

It's maybe a bit spooky for them, it maybe unnerves them, and they don't know what to do with that. They've both got so much baggage with their respective families that they mostly try to ignore it, and they get pissy and short with each other as a result of ignoring it and circling this...

...confusing thing.

[moths-are-better]

one time I stockpiled a whole bunch of incorrect quotes and I think I should finally post them

Eva: Why are you on fire?  Dally: This is just how my day is going.

Eva: We have to plan, we have to figure something out.  Yugo: Eva, when have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose.

Eva: How the hell are you still alive?  Ruel: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Adamai : Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

Adamai : What goes up but never comes down?  Eva: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

Yugo, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Yugo: Is that a gun?!  Amalia : It's not what it looks like!  Yugo: It looks like a gun!  Amalia : Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore.  Yugo: ...ANYMORE?!

Adamai , singing: He's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's on thin fucking ice  Amalia , also singing: Santa Claus is calling you out!

Adamai : Can I borrow five dollars?  Yugo: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back?  Adamai : Of course.  Adamai : Not directly, but with my love and affection.  Yugo: So that’s a no.

Adamai : STOP!  *Everyone stops*  Adamai : wAiT a MiNuTe-

Cop: What are your names?  Yugo: Don't tell them, Amalia .  Cop, writing: Amalia ...  Yugo: Crap.  Amalia : Nice going, Yugo.  Cop: Amalia : Uh oh.

Adamai : That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!  Yugo: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!  Adamai : Adamai : What?  Yugo: I need to feed my Neopets!

Ruel: You know, I used to play back in my gory days.  Dally: You mean glory days?  Ruel: Ah, that too.

Yugo: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY] Amaila: What's that? Yugo: Remorse code. Amaila: I'm even angrier now.

Yugo: Amaila and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-  Amaila: Sentences.  Yugo: Don't interrupt me.

Yugo: What’s up guys? I’m back. Amaila: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Yugo: Death is a social construct.

Amalia : You're violent.  Yugo: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Yugo: Amalia and I are no longer dating.  Amalia : Yugo, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Yugo: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Amaila: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

Yugo: How petty can you get? Amaila: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Chibi: You need a hobby.  Yugo: I have a hobby!  Chibi: Hitting Quilby isn't a hobby.

Eva: Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Dally and I are dating.  Dally, Adamai, Amalia , and Yugo: *gasp*  Eva: Dally, why are you surprised?!

Amalia : Dally! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.  Dally: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

Amalia : Dally, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-  Dally: Aww, thanks-  Amalia : But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.

*Dally is fighting a monster*  Adamai: Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!  Dally: The power to believe in myself!?  Adamai: No, a knife! Stab it!

I have more so I’ll post them eventually

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi Clan! I haven't been around in a while the autism took me for a few months sorry. Would you do some headcanons for Miles and/or Gwen meeting a Mutant!Spider-Person reader? Like an X-Men type mutant. They never got bit but were instead born with the spider powers (including the webs) and 4 arms. Because they're a mutant they aren't really trusted as a hero by the people of their city (or the cops) but they still try their best because "If I gave up because a few people didn't like me, I wouldn't be very good at my job"

-Forgetful Anon

Gwen Stacy

While visiting Spider Society HQ for the first time, she noticed you sitting at a nearby table, having an arm-wrestling match against Ben Riley.

He insisted you used all four of your arms to "challenge" him....and yet he sulks when he ultimately loses, and you just laugh in victory before patting him on the back.

Once he leaves, you spot this new Spiderwoman and wave her over to your table, insisting on having a match.

It's just your way of breaking the ice for new Spiderpeople. You loved getting to know them and testing their strength. Winning or losing doesn't matter to you.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on ya." You tease, only to be surprised as Gwen wins with little effort, her smug grin present.

"You went a little "too" easy on me, I think."

"Haha...jeez, I guess so."

And so you both talk for a little while about different things: what she thought of Spider Society, how long she's been Spiderwoman, etc.

When she turns the questions on you, however, you're....a bit hesitant to share.

Unlike most of the Spiderpeople here, you didn't get your powers in the "traditional" sense. No spider has ever bitten you.

Seeing Gwen's curiosity, though, you eventually tell her you're actually a mutant, a human born with the X-gene that made you into a spider hybrid.

You mentioned a league of mutant superheroes in your dimension.....but you ride solo, as most Spiderpeople do, not wanting to be tied down to any specific group (ironic as you're part of Spider Society, but that's besides the point).

She imagines the people there feel pretty safe, though you shake your head. "Nah, some see us as the bigger threat just because we look like this and have all these crazy powers. I've fought aliens and wizards, but...there's some battles that you just can't punch or shoot webs at, y'know?"

Her expression changes to a slightly solemn one, nodding her head in sympathy. "You're fighting for basic respect."

"We just want fair treatment...and it's like we're asking them for the world. All I wanna do is protect my city, but it's hard when half the population hates us and thinks we brought the trouble to them."

"I can't imagine.." She frowns. "If I might ask..what keeps you going? Why bother if nobody even thanks you or sees you as a hero? What's the point?"

"......."

"...sorry, was that too deep-?"

"No, no..you're good, kid." You chuckle, feeling more relaxed. "All my life I've dealt with that stuff, and it still sometimes hurts, but if I gave up just because some people didn't like me, well...I'd be terrible at my job as a Spiderperson."

Gwen's impressed by your words, not expecting to have such a deep conversation about your "origin story" at the first meeting.

But she's glad she could talk to you, needing this distraction from the incident with her dad while she was questioning her own self-worth as Spiderwoman.

You reassure her she can come to you for advice anytime.

Miles Morales (E-1610)

You first met Miles after getting thrown into his dimension thanks to the collider explosion, taking comfort in knowing you're not the most "unusual" spiderperson around.

There's a pig and an anime girl with a psychic link to her spider, for crying out loud.

Anyways, you had faith that he could help you get back to your dimension, never doubting him unlike the other spiderpeople who firmly believed he wasn't ready for this task.

You followed him after he left May's basement to talk one-on-one, sympathizing with his struggles.

"Trust me, kid..I've been in your shoes once. I never felt like a Spiderman in my life..even now."

He stares at you in disbelief. "Really? You? But...you got all your powers at birth! I mean yeah, you weren't bitten, but....but you're already better at this than I am! I bet people really admire you-"

"I've had my fair share of doubters, Miles. All of us have, but I got it...particularly bad in my world. And not just because I'm a "masked vigilante putting myself about the law"."

He's still a bit lost, so you tell him about the unfair treatment of mutantkind in your dimension, speaking of how some people hated you so much...they sought to "cure" your X-genes.

It stings to know that they will shun you instead of seeing you as a hero, though you didn't wanna ramble on for too long and depress Miles further, seeing his frown growing.

"You say all of this, and yet...you think I can help you get back there. Why would you ever wanna go back to a world that hates you just for being yourself? For just trying to do the right thing even if everyone's telling you no?"

"Well..besides dying if I stay in this dimension--" You begin, painfully glitching for a moment as if to prove that point. "--ouch...look, I just can't abandon the people who need me. The ones who do see me as a hero. It's my duty, and...if I gave up trying to be Spiderman just because I get a few stares or snide comments...well then I'm not really Spiderman, am I?"

Miles doesn't know what to say...but he does feel incredibly inspired by your words.

He only wishes the others trusted him like you did.

Patting his shoulder, you remove your mask and smile at him. "Don't their words bring you down, kid. You got potential...they'll realize it soon enough."

[average-mako-enjoyer]

Some thoughts about my last reblog because I don't want to ramble in OP's tags.

In me1, NO ONE takes Garrus seriously, and he is desperate to find his purpose. He thinks he will find it by killing Saleon and helping Shepard kill Saren, and by some miracle he succeeds and becomes the savior of the Citadel. But then Shepard dies, and Garrus kind of loses everything he suddenly had.

He has tasted the freedom and status he thinks he wants, so he tries to emulate it by forming his own Spectre squad in the most unlawful place in the galaxy. And he fails. And almost dies. But Shepard is there again to help him kill a guy he now hates.

And then in ME3, Garrus finally gets what he really wanted and needed: respect from others, respect from his father. But it's completely empty, because the world is falling apart, and the only way he knows how to deal with it is personalized violence, but it's completely useless.

There's no one guy you can kill to make the world right again, and he suffers a lot from that because he's cut out for this black and white, absolutist way of thinking and everything around him demands nuance.

I see a lot of people saying things like, "Oh, Garrus is not a cop because he quit," but calling him a cop is more about his mentality than his occupation (something also needs to be said about his open admission of torturing suspects, but maybe that's for another day).

He's still living by it in ME2 because that's what he's been taught since he was born. His father is a high-ranking C-Sec officer who tried to make his own copy of Garrus, and he sort of succeeded. Only the crumbling of everything he knew before, the complete destruction of all the laws he made for himself and so desperately followed, finally makes Garrus rethink his ways.

He becomes ruthless to an entirely different degree. He becomes more cynical. But he becomes wiser and much more like Shepard. He can finally see gray. He can finally exist in gray and be content with it. He can finally understand the calculus of war and support Shepard from that standpoint. And that, indeed, is wonderful.

My main point here is that Shepard can't really change Garrus. They can pull rank and tell him to back off a bit (see how it goes in ME2 when they try to talk him out of killing Sidonis), but the reality of war can. And Shepard can only either pander to Garrus' worst traits or coexist with them. They don't try to mentor Garrus in ME3, and that completes his character ark beautifully.

(Also something about Garrus being sure he can cleanse Omega of all criminals, and how that translates into him trying to reassure Shepard that they can win the war against the Reapers because they're finally not alone)

[mostmagical]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

sunny........ I swear I did not mean to leave this in here for a whole month.... I thought it'd be a week or 2 or max...... forgive me.....

honestly most of these will be based on nostalgia and how the fic felt to me rather than what I think is my best writing but I THINK that's how fic and fandom should be

Consequences of Dating Blindly (Miraculous) - I LOVE THIS FIC. It's goofy and silly and came about from a series of me posting into the void and mutuals bouncing off of me and it was so fun... Made me feel like I was going back to my roots because fanfiction was always sort of in the crack treated seriously realm for me when I was younger

Fate, Destiny… A Hamster (Miraculous) - I feel like it's almost a cop out to put my most popular fic here but the memories I have associated with this fic made finding that hamster worth it. I feel like I made so many friends and mutuals through writing this fic and that just made me so happy…. It's also my longest completed fic which is always a win

Heartbeating (Mass Effect) - LET'S DO RECENCY BIAS NEXT. I'm still feeling shy.... but I'm really excited to be dipping my toes in another fandom. I feel like this is really try-hard but what's wrong with that. SOMETIMES WE TRY HARD!! Full disclosure this ask was answered late because I knew you wanted a Garrus fic on my list so here you go. It's your fault.

Losing Sleep (Miraculous) - I love dumb conversations about nothing, I love fluff, I love quiet moments, and I just WAH... This will always be one of my favorites. Short, sweet, and it made me feel better when I had a bad day. This was flash fiction that I wrote in a few hours so I was happy when it seemed like other people liked it too <3

unnamed unfinished fic from 2011 (unnamed fandom) - sorry Sunny.. do not come for me for no link...... This wasn't the first fic I ever wrote, but it was my first multi-chaptered fic in a small subsection of a subsection of a popular fandom. I never imagined many people would read it, but every time I posted, I'd get new readers and my favorite writer at the time eventually picked it up and I was STARSTRUCK. It was honestly a bit embarrassing. Writing this fic though was kind of this moment for me where I realized, "I can write. I can create stories that people want to read," and I feel like I've been riding that high ever since. I think about it a lot and I don't know if I'd be writing now if I didn't have this fic. I gotta finish it one day.

[oneknightstand-if]

Say deep into the romance(the notorious L word has been said and everything), how protective of the MC's are the RO's? And how would they handle losing the MC(i,e the MC died in the final battle/sacrificed themselves to win the day or something angsty like that)?

Well, a bunch of the ROs will already be trying to protect the MC as much as they can even before any romance, so there's not too much room to improve there. Also high affinity platonic bond can trigger this as much as any romance.

Merlin: Already the resident bodyguard/babysitter/cat-herder of the group. May give the MC a bit more attention when the group is in danger... but they're already watching over you. They'd perhaps feel more regret if they had to cut the MC loose.

For them, MC's death is... expected. Human lives are so ephemeral, after all. They'll always remember you... even thousands of years later and will bring the MC up in random conversations to random people. Probably MC's most embarrassing moments. For anyone paying attention & talking extensively to them in the game, Merlin already has repeatedly brought up their last longterm lover.

Biggest change here would be Merlin nearly killing themself to make certain that the MC's soul doesn't get dragged to Heaven or Hell. That's the fate that they'd find horrific for a loved one, not the natural death expected of all mortals.

Adrian: He's already potentially carrying the MC away from danger through half the city whether they like it or not so there's no room for Adrian to get more protective without going full yandere on you.

If the high affinity MC is dead, then Adrian is also most likely dead as well. He's the most ride or DIE of all the ROs and this already has implications if you go through the route where the MC refuses to leave their apartment and gets kidnapped by Merlin and Adrian.

Arthur: Due to his nature, he's already MAXIMUM THE PROTECTOR. He may be paying a bit more attention to you during times of danger, but he's already protecting you to his full capability and won't be acting any differently... after all, he's the High King and can't prioritize your safety over all others.

The same goes for the MC's death. The Post Apocalypse is still going to be a complete clusterfuck so he won't have time to stop and grieve. (The same as he won't have time to stop and grieve the fall of Camelot and the deaths of most of the people he knew because unlike the other Harbingers who reincarnated or who actually lived through the 1500 years span of time, to him Camelot fell last week.)

He'll create a suitable memorial customized exactly to the MC's tastes once things have calmed down. And Merlin will sneak over to comfort him, because Merlin's one of the few who can see past Arthur's strong front.

Percy: He's going to be hanging around a high affinity MC a lot, romanced or not. You're probably not going to notice much difference protection-wise as he's the sort who'd jump in to help you without a moment's notice even if he didn't like you.

At the MC's death, he'd probably disappear into a forest for several weeks without anyone being able to find him. He'll eventually return to the group though because he knows that he's needed. The MC would've been his first romantic love... and most probably will be his last as well.

4̷0̸4̸ ̷E̷r̷r̵o̴r̵ ̶N̶o̴t̷ ̴F̵o̸u̵n̶d̵: [SPOILERS]

Cassandra: She's a cop, so she's already keeping a protective eye out on the entire group as a whole. She'll be making extra special precautions for a high affinity MC. (This is probably one of the safest positions to have during the Apocalypse... as long as the MC behaves themselves).

Cassandra has some pretty traumatic stuff in her background, so this won't be the first lover she's lost. Her reaction will also depend on how you went... in an awesome blaze of glory (she'll build a statue for you) or something painfully drawn out & full of regret (heads will roll).

Vivian: Uh... you are probably going to need to have a 'discussion' with Vivian regarding her protectiveness. It can get a bit overwhelming at times. Like Merlin, she is well aware of the inherent ephemeral nature of a mortal.

So wouldn't it be better if she just 'took care' of all those people who approach you, just in case they turned out to be dangerous? And actually, why don't you stay with her at the bottom of the lake from now on? All the time. That would be very safe.

Otherwise, whatever killed the MC better hope it's already dead before Vivian gets at them.

Gwen: She's more the type that people protect than the type who protects people. The support from the background type. But you get close enough, that will not stop her at all and she will absolutely try to protect you to the best of her ability. Like right up there in the frontlines. You both may need to end up saving each other in that case.

About the MC's death... it's fine. It's fine. You've already died and reincarnated once. It can happen again. She'll be waiting for you. Eternally if necessary.

Lorelei: She'll already be highly protective of certain types of MCs (romanced or otherwise). Unlike some of the others, there'll actually be a noticeable change in her demeanor.

She's not the type to ever abandon someone in danger, but she will absolutely prioritize a romanced or high affinity MC over others. To the point where highly skilled fighter MCs may need to tell her to take a step back because she's jumping in even when it would be better that she did her own thing.

Will be quietly having a BSOD upon the MC's death (which she' ll blame entirely on her failing to protect and be there for the MC at the last moment). She'll eventually come back to the group as the icy version of Wrath, barely interacting with others while still carrying out her duties. (The other Harbingers are going to really have their work cut out for them there.)

Broderick: Another one who's demeanor will change after getting close to him... especially after what happens in his subplot. He'll be constantly protectively hovering over high affinity MC. But just during the dangerous times. (Which is actually all the time.) The MC will probably need to work through a few issues with him.

He'll be completely gutted by the MC's death and not really functional for quite awhile after that point. Definitely a changed man (and not for the better). It might take years for him to recover.

[fairuzfan]

Genuinely curious, because I've seen some people say that one should vote biden because if you vote for trump or desantis their stance on the ongoing genocide and other matters would actually be worse than what we're contending with, and I have no true frame of reference: do you think that's actually true or a likely possibility?

I'm of the opinion that it really doesn't matter who we vote for anyways, the outcomes will still be the same. Biden is enabling 4 different genocides/ethnic cleansing (Palestine, Congo, Armenia, Sudan) and honestly, I don't see how it can get any worse.

They often make the argument that things will happen *here* that is dangerous but speaking as someone who has lived in a very Red state my entire life, it has never been safe or welcoming for me to begin with, along with others who have similar identities to me. Not to mention that bad things have already happened here under Biden, with the Abortion ban, book bans, and ban on critical race theory being taught in schools.

Trump is not great, like I don't want him to win either. He was the person who moved the Israeli embassy to Jerusalem and it was seen as a political slap to the face to Palestinians (click). Don't get me wrong they're both piles of shit. But I refuse to elect people into office that let such flagrantly terrible things happen in the world. These people have no oversight in their actions, are free to do what they want, and no manner of "democratic" intervention will stop them from doing the things they want, especially when they're afraid of losing funding for going against major lobbying organizations like CUFI and AIPAC.

This isn't the first time Biden ignored Palestinians in this term. Remember in 2021 with the settlements in Shiekh Jarrah? He didn't say a word condemning Israel for their forced displacement and their bombardment of Gaza (click). Sure the Abraham Accords sucked and that was brokered by Trump, but Biden could have undone that. He didn't. He just re-approved aid to Palestinians (which, who cares when they're under occupation? No amount of aid will help them attain liberation). Palestinians don't want aid — they want America to stop funding the Zionist Entity.

Everyone in Palestine already knows that the Israel's biggest supporter, America, is also their biggest funder. If they just stopped funding, everything would be cut in half. There is no way the Zionist entity would be able to sustain itself. Even now, their economy is failing because they relied on Palestinians for much of their cheap labor. They cannot support themselves without USAmerica's direct intervention.

I am of the opinion that we should organize to change the way our government operates or else things like these will keep happening. It does not help anyone but the ultrarich and the people in power. Things like Cop City and the genocide in Congo and Sudan and Armenia only happen because the US has a vested monetary interest in oppressing them. This will not change between presidents. Biden will just be quieter about it.

I don't know how to organize stuff like this, or where to go to organize, but if we keep playing in the system they laid out where they always win, then there's no way anything can change.

[kennyomegasweave]

my live thoughts during the finale of The Sign

Obviously, spoilers will be under here.

I had complaints about this show, but I still enjoyed myself overall and I LOVED this finale. It was a really good and entertaining finale.

My boy is def getting shot cause he just basically proposed to his man and said he's gonna do it for real once this mission is done. 😭😭😭

Old woman yaoi! I am very sad for these women but you know old woman yaoi! Phaya’s grandma be making moves. Get it mama!

Man. I don't wanna see Chart get tortured. Kaownah is my fave and it's his birthday today and everything.

Yai would hear Tharn stuck in some ravine in the jungle. I love siblings, chosen or otherwise, so much.

Was Tharn reinstated? Cause he's like “I'm gonna arrest Montree” but he’s suspended? Can he even do that? He might have been reinstated in the last episode, but I can't remember. Oops. lol

YES AT THEM ROLLING UP ON A JEEP RUNNING BITCHES OVER. THE SQUAD’S HERE FUCKERS. STRIKE TEAM: GAY (AND YAI)

Khem is about to get shot. It's dark and he and Thongthai are outside and I saw the preview and I literally have a pit in my stomach. Because I know what's gonna happen and no. NO.

NO CHART NO.

KHEM BABY NO. HE GOT SHOT SAVING HIS MAN AND FELL WITH THE NECKLACE WITH THEIR RING CAUSE THEY WERE GONNA GET MARRIED IT’S BEEN YEARS And this is also why like they probably shouldn't have had Khem and Thongthai on the same team because Khem whole ass threw himself in front of his man and then Thongthai was basically useless cause it's not like he was gonna be able to do a motherfucking thing once his man was fucking shot.

CHART NO AGAIN HOW MANY TIMES IS THIS MAN GONNA GET SHOT

I don't even care about the supernatural shit and the rest of this after Khem got shot right in Thongthai’s arms. We can shut this whole damn episode down.

Oh okay. No Chart and Khem aren't dead. We have a throwaway line that Khem (and Chart) are “safe” and thus not dead. Okay. We can continue this episode. I'm good. Khem’s at the hospital and, even if I never see him for the rest of this episode, I can rest knowing he will be getting dicked down by Thongthai in “we’re alive and getting married” marathon sex once he recovers. My boys WILL be married in the special episode y'all keep mentioning is happening. I know this.

Okay, like, Montree is evil, don't get me wrong. But he kept being like “why won't you just leave me alone” in the warehouse like he's not a drug dealing murderer and then he refuses to confess and is unfazed by a whole damn Naga showing up and capturing him. And it’s a mood how much he doesn't give a fuck. Man said he don't care about anything. lol

Aww Yai and Sand. Yai and his hot ass wife. He couldn't resist telling her she was beautiful. Man loves his brother and his hot ass wife. I love him.

I'm fairly confident we won't see anyone else from the cop side the rest of the episode, maybe Yai cause he's Tharn's brother, but that's it. But you know what. My fucking boy is alive and so is his man and they will be getting married. So I won. I win, you lose, ah ha.

I'm guessing this is the scene Babe mentioned was hard cause it's a love scene but he's sad cause he knows he's gonna leave Phaya but Phaya doesn't know that. I do wish we had seen him negotiate this with Chalothon. Like “fine I'll go with you, but you gotta let me have one more night to get that dick.” 

Paid $16 and the damn ass blur is still there? Pardon me? 

Phaya loves Tharn so fucking much. He is out here freaking out. Running around aimlessly. Baby. Baby boy.

Okay, also, Tharn. Love. You had to know Phaya wasn't just gonna let you leave? Asking why he followed you. Babe. Baby. Babes. He's always gonna follow you. 

Again. Chalothon’s Naga look is really hot and if I was Tharn I would have never looked at Phaya in our first life cause I would have been sat with that man and his hot ass fire look. RIP to Tharn but I'm different. I'm a whore.

Yes at Phaya using his Garuda powers. They were so severely lacking in this show and I’m still butthurt.

THARN BABY OMG. I mean. You would think that maybe Chalothon would have learned by now to not throw spear objects at Phaya. Stupid bitch. Killed the person he's wanted for several lifetimes TWICE in the same way.

I'm here for this montage combining both their lives. Sad it's happening because Tharn got fucking stabbed. Again.

“He's always sacrificing himself for you to be where he doesn't belong. You're selfish.” Now I know your bitch ass isn't saying that when you have now KILLED him twice. Hater ass bitch. Someone is selfish here and it's not the dude who hasn't killed his man TWICE in the same way. Flop ass bitch.

Oh Phaya. Baby. He just loves Tharn so fucking much. 

Damn. They sent Dao’s ass back to France. I didn't like her, but they didn't need to send her ass back to France. lol

Oh. I'm not ready for Yai and Phaya to see each other. Not at all. Phaya is just crying silently and Yai is ugly crying. Neither of them have spoken a word to the other. Oh my heart. 

A YEAR LATER??? Oh they're really doing this huh. Okay. lol I figured something was gonna happen when the still of Phaya with that hair and facial hair came out. Man was obviously going through something and time had passed. 

Phaya. I get maybe there's not other bedrooms in Tharn’s grandma’s house but staying in the room AND bed where y'all last saw each other can't be good for your mental health. Though the hair and facial hair already told me that mental health is hanging on by a thread and that thread is fraying baby.

THE SQUAD IS HERE TO FIND THARN. My boy is fucking alive and with his babe! And Sand is here too! Mine and Yai’s girl! I didn't even see the fine ass Captain, but he’s there too. Is he joining the search or is he trying to get Phaya to start living again? Regardless, even he came down. I love that. In another life he was Tharn's brother. Though Phaya has clearly given up on life. Which again, that hair and facial hair already showed that.

Is this a real thing or is Phaya dreaming??? I know they said it's the 15th day on the 11th moon or something so the Naga can come out so I'm guessing it's real? THE SNAKE DOCTOR FINALLY GAVE THARN UP??? Okay, I love this. I need the second thing they do after getting off this hill is cut Phaya’s hair and shave him. The first thing is fuck, obviously. 

[lurkingintheback]

So I was trying something for the Tabletop Game Jam going on, but this is way over 200 words. Still liked the concept, so here's this one while I work on another!

Lemonade Mogul: The Corporate Warfare Card Game

A competitive game for three to five players. Might be able to play it with two, but you're probably going to have more fun flipping the table if there are more people on the other side of it. When a group of kids get the exact same get-rich-quick scheme idea to get them through the summer, tensions get high. There isn't enough room in this town for three, let alone six competing lemonade businesses, and you little Timmy/Suzy/Brook, are not going to be the one getting your hopes and dreams bought out or destroyed.

Materials Needed

Three to Five Players!

One deck of Lemonade Mogul themed cards! (Roughly about thirty cards divided into ten Location, Benefit, and Hazard cards)

Play Money! (Real Money not recommended for games with strangers, exes, or any small lemonade stand owning urchins with a mischievous glint in their eyes and nothing to lose.)

A notepad to keep track of winning bids.

Lemonade! (Optional, but who wouldn't want a refreshing glass?)

Playing the Game!

Lemonade Mogul starts with each player being given an equal small amount of play money, hazard cards, and benefit cards, along with one location card at random while the remaining stacks of location cards, benefit cards, and hazard cards each lie face down on the table. Each player is given some time to look over their cards before the first location card is turned over; revealing one of the places you can sell lemonade at!

Or rather, could sell lemonade at. The first thing you have to deal with is the Bidding Phase.

Bidding Phase: Each location card has their own perks and drawbacks; and each one gets you just a little more money each turn, depending on how much the card states. However, locations can be bought by other players if they have the same amount of money as the winning bid. Though players don't get additional money from new location cards on their first turn, each location provides passive benefits; or passive drawbacks. Maybe that country club provides you with a lot of money, but you're having to spend more time there and can't draw other locations. Maybe that graveyard doesn't provide you with much money, but the local necromancer's a big fan of your lemonade, and he'll sic zombies on one of your competitors every three turns to keep them busy. Maybe the church protects you from THE BOGEYMAN.

Development Phase: Now for the fun part. This is where you slam down your benefit cards or toss a hazard card at someone else. Maybe you trash a player's location, preventing them from getting money from it for another turn. Maybe you get a big sale from a wealthy eccentric old lady covered in cats who thinks your small business is the bee's knees. Maybe you commit insurance fraud; discarding a location for a big sum.

Some benefit cards exist only as counters to specific hazards or benefits (siccing the cops on a fraudster and forcing them to drop the location without a cash boost, exorcising the ghost in your refrigerator sent to stall you from getting your money, ensuring your lemonade stand has a clean bill of health), while other benefit cards specifically just benefit you or another player.

Despite the fact that there can be only one Lemonade Mogul, you're free to use your benefit cards on another player's behalf; or work with them! The competition is as friendly or as unfriendly as you make it.

Hazard cards meanwhile, are legitimately just hazards you're throwing at one player for a turn. Though you can only toss one (usually, unless the card has different rules) at another player, you're free to gang up with other players on someone. Maybe you're summoning a spooky ghost to haunt a competitor's fridge to halve their income via taking up their time, or you've tricked a gang of angry punk rock fans into thinking that your opponent hates the indie band they like, and they're trashing the location. Some hazards only last for one turn, while others are perpetual until they've been handled.

Finally, there's the Buying Phase; the point where players can look over previously bid locations and buy them out; putting their play money back in the pile and swiping the location card. It doesn't matter how much money the player has; as long as it's at least a dollar more than the winning bid, it's their own! The objective is to buy out every location the other players have; if a player runs out of locations and can't bid for any more, they're out of luck and on the buying player's team; though they can still play hazards or use benefits, any money they've made is funneled directly towards the player who bought them out.

All you've got to do is buy out everyone else; then you'll take the coveted title of Lemonade Mogul!

[adhdo5]

Alright 10 billion NM guy picrews upon ye btw

1 - The patch is even on the wrong side nightmare world. This is I think also one of the ones with a color in face option that doesn't look like an active blush which doesn't really stand out on its own but in contrast to a normal Arron makes them look a lot more organic, which is great /neg

2 - Very funny hair options here. It had really good clothes for mainline Arron but not really for this guy though

3 - This is kind of a classic picrew to me. The outfit is a little optimistic but I think it works fine ultimately. This is the one that really got me thinking abt the bloody bandages drip

4 - This one is like just barely not nothing enough to make it in. Still kind of nothing. The asymmetrical squint would be a lot more anything if I had more robust blood options and could this correspond it with something I could pass off as the injured cheek but we win some we lose many

5 - Unsurprisingly the best one I think, though mostly in this specific case because of how it has less of a case of anime chin, which is the fundamental failure at the core of Arron picrewing. The scar was improvised; by default it was over the eye and I think you can still see it hanging off the face if you zoom in, so don't and just pretend that it's the cheek scarring, let me have this and such

6 - The one I posted earlier. Big fan of this hand lotion + the "the cops have finally found me. goodbye" shirt. It's not really themcore but it is a nod to their situation being more dire than normal

7 - There is an endearingness to this one. They look so much less angry than all the other ones...

8 - The background is really carrying this one tbh

9 - Big fan of the hair option even tho the clothes are mid. The most interesting feature to me is that the lack of long skirts forced me to put the corresponding Arron in the maid dress option which kind of doesn't even look bad but he really is not a maid dress kind of guy at all

10 - This one has SUCH a bad case of anime chin they truly don't look like that at all and the outfit is nothing but I like how sparkly this one is so I tried to do them for completion's sake and the Express at least is anything. Ah well. Again win some lose many

11 - I could've matched them better but frankly I was so caught up in the euphoria of having an option with the cheek actually torn open at all that I didn't care. Also the flip-off being anachronistic really bothers me more than it should but they deserve it after all they've been through. The Arron on this one is actually kind of peak though