#i could be doing so much more for the community with my time like making everyone bread

[imstillalexcomic]

This isn’t really meant to be a comic trashing my dad.

I do truly appreciate his commitment to education.  I do truly have a soft spot for his style of humor, which certainly influenced the development of my own.  I appreciate how he had this VHS-C camera that he was always bringing out and would let me use, sparking my love for movies and starting me on a path that led to me going to film school.

All those good things about him were real.

But so was the colossal amount of damage he caused.

If you happen to be a parent and are reading this right now, I’m going to ask that you consider this suggestion from a childless thirty-six year old:

You need to consider how you communicate with your child, and how communication doesn’t just mean the words that you use.

You’re telling your kids something with the foods you eat, the activities you engage in, etc…

…you communicate to your children with the media you consume.

The rhetoric against the trans community wasn’t as much in the spotlight when I was growing up, but every time my dad turned on the radio, he’d have my sister and I listen to the likes of Rush Limbaugh, or Sean Hannity, Mark Levin, etc…  One of the topics that’d come up frequently was queer people. 

Issues about Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, gay marriage, gay boy scouts…

The “gays” were an issue.  More than an issue really, they were a problem.  If someone was queer, these radio hosts were quick to villainize; “this teacher is going to turn their students gay,” “this troop leader is going to abuse his scouts,” you don’t want your kid to end up like that, do you?��

My dad would listen to these folks non-stop and nod along in agreement, all the while his extremely queer and aware of it child was sitting right behind him, listening to how she was some kind of monster.

So I hid. 

There could be no sharing about aspects of myself.  My parents would be listening to 770am or Fox News all the time.  If I share that I was queer, I’d be finished.  How couldn’t that be the case?  Every day they chose to listen to people that hate me, so they hate people like me. 

So I can’t let them know me.  I won’t let them know me.

Even though they never said that they hated queer people with their own words, they told me that they hated queer people every day with the media they chose, and in turn forced me to consume.

So again, if there are any parents reading this right now, consider my words.  Hate is a choice you make, and hate can be communicated with more than just words.

If for no other reason, you never know if that kid in the back seat is listening, listening to how you hate them.

[kathaynesart]

And here we go. For the full experience I would recommend reading while listening to THIS SONG. It inspired a vast majority of the scene as well as the timing, though I fear you'd have to read pretty fast to get to the ending at the same time as the song ends, so uh... good luck! Trigger warnings below:

The Day the Sky Bled Red

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Whew. I'm so glad to finally be done with these big updates. After over a year I will finally be able to return to my smaller update format.

Some keen viewers might notice the reuse of certain shots from the series. There is very much intentional, though the reason for this will not be made clear until the ending of the arc.

As of the final shot we are FINALLY back to present-day in the Replica timeline (if it wasn't obvious). I'd drop in a timeline for reference but uh... I maxed out on the Tumblr images. Oh well. Hopefully the context clues were enough to help though!

I do want to take a moment to TED Talk about Raph's ninpo, if that's alright. Unlike his brothers, Raph didn't really spend much time trying to come up with unique ways of using his abilities. Why improve what already worked for him? However, I do think one interesting ability could have come naturally to him over time. I always found his way of mentally connecting with his brothers as "Mind Raph" to be a fascinating joke in the series. They way he could help and communicate with his brothers is something that was always really important to him and I see that ability bleeding into his ninpo. Because of this I feel that his Raph clones were always able to find and reach his brothers no matter the distance. His ability to interact with them at the same time was something he was still learning in the series, like when Mind Raph apologized to Leo for taking a moment too long to respond because he was busy helping someone else. Because of this I see his clones being able to react and communicate independently (kind of like Naruto clones), but are in constant connection to the original source, Raph himself. This made it really easy for Raph to relay information to the brothers, though it was seldom needed since Donnie's ninpo tech normally had that covered. On another note, I also wanted to make a point that whenever one of the brothers died in the bad future timeline, it was when they were separated from their brothers. I always liked in the movie how it wasn't until the brothers worked together that they were able to regain their abilities, confront the Krang, and even open portals to different dimensions. I wanted that lesson to resonate in Replica as well, even if subtly. Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

The rest of the arc will be a lot less action, but still plenty more emotions. I can't promise that we won't be doing more flashbacks in the future but nothing to the extent of the "Holiday Special." We got a story to get through after all!

Thank you so much everyone for your patience with me as I slowly inch my way through this big story. It means a lot to me! I promise the next update will not be so emotionally draining.

[littelovelunette]

sevika x reader with a pussy-stretching kink, sevika uses inflatable dildos and keeps buying larger toys just see how much reader can take, meanwhile reader is tied up, drooling, crying and whimpering, from all the non-stop orgasms and the big toys being inside her, begging her to stop, but she just loves seeing how much they can take

Stretch For Me

Contains smut, mentions of tearing, bondage, pussy stretching, dildos, vibrator, cnc

Rain was pouring against the windows, the fat droplets pelting down on the hard glass of the window. it would've been relaxing had you not been in the predicament that yiu were in as of now.

Sweat was beading admist your furrowed brows, hands tied at your back with thicks ropes as you gasped for air through the ball gag in your mouth.

Sevika loved you like this, all spread out for her to use and abuse, bondage was one of the many things that got her going. well lets be real everything had her wet.

Red marks had formed all over your arms from the tight ropes holding you down. Your pussy was sore and aching from the several toys Sevika had used on you earlier.

"Mmmph..." You let out a tired, muffled groan through the gag, drool running down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"You've been doing so well, so far," Sevika traced her fingers over your bound thighs, smiling at the sight of your muffled moaning.

The vibrator taped down on your clit wasnt helping if anything it only worked to make you wetter.

It had been hours Sevika had been making you take big dildos in your pussy, the plug in your ass serving as a constant reminder that she hadn't forgotten about your other hole.

Sevika's fingers grabbed the behind of the gag, letting it fall undone so you could communicate with her properly. Smirking, Sevika pulled back, "Let daddy know how I'm making you feel yeah?"

Sevika came closer, bare muscular chest pressing against your face making you desperately lean in for even the slightest ounce of comfort.

sevika's tits, you took in a soft sniff, you loved having her so close to you especially her tits

"S-Sevika," you could only whimper and whine out her name as the silicone toy made it's way inside, a small tube attached to it along with a pump used to inflate it inside your pussy.

"I'm gonna break, it's gonna rip me," you whined out, legs straining against the ropes as Sevika put one hand on your lower stomach to feel the imprint of the dildo.

Sevika's hand was big on your stomach, big and warm providing a little bit of unspoken comfort.

Sevika's other hand, the mechanical one, continued pumping the dildo with air making it inflate further, "It's b-big," you cried out again.

She grabbed the end of the dildo and started thrusting it deep in your pussy making you whine and moan loudly, the vibrator adding more pleasure on your clit.

"C-can't cum again!" You complained but Sevika didn't let that stop her movements, if anything she got faster.

"You'll cum as many times as I say you will."

As Sevika made the dildo hit that one certain spot in you, your body jerked up in pleasure squirting all over the silicone surface of the dildo, Sevika continued fucking you through your release making your body tremble and shudder from the overstimulation, "D-daddy," you stuttered and moaned until eventually you passed out from the exhaustion.

when you woke up, the ties were gone and sevika was gently rubbing your stomach and butt, "you okay, my love?" she asked in a husky voice

"mhm," you responded and sevika let you lean against her for a while before tying you up again for round two

[bunny-jpeg]

raw

lando norris

tags: smut/pwp, unprotected/unsafe sex, half-assed pull out method, doggy style, back shots, friends-to-lovers, best friend!lando

lando had to be dreaming. the type of dream he didn't want to wake-up from. he would much rather be here than anywhere else right now. especially as you crossed your arms, letting the mclaren logo stretch across your pretty tits.

the tits that lando had been eyeing for years now. you were his best friend since childhood and now you were in your hotel room for the evening after silverstone with a single request for the grand prix's winner.

fuck me. and fuck me raw. lando had to be dreaming.

you uncrossed your arms and leaned back on the bed with your arms stretched behind you. you gazed up at him. the face of your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone else. and after years of skirting around the issue, you finally found your words and asked him. and he looked you dumbfounded.

"you? me?" he said as he tried to process your words. you felt a tightness in your chest at the anxiety that was eating you up inside. you didn't know what to say or do.

"am i speaking french, lando? i want to have sex with you, it's about time we resolve this tension. it's been going on for over ten years." you said as you maintained eye contact with him. you felt a little bad for not being the most romantic.

it was hard for you to admit. your entire life you stood firm on the fact that men and women could be friends without any complications! and while you still felt that, you also found yourself with complicated feelings for lando. so, with all the bravery you could muster, you asked for sex.

he shifted from one foot to another, "i don't know how to respond... i mean i do. i just don't wanna sound like a pervert." he chuckled nervously and you only grew warmer in your face.

"do you want me, norris?"

he took his hands out of the pockets of his joggers and cupped his barely hidden erection. he gave you a gentle smile as he said, "i do. i do want you, you've been the subject of my fantasies for a long, long time." and started to take his shirt off.

you did the same, slowly revealing more skin to one another. you felt excitement race up you and you couldn't help yourself. you rubbed your thighs together and felt your pulse pick up.

"lando."

"i know, babe. i know." he chuckled as he got into bed with you. he got his boxers off before he was completely nude, his hands trailed across your body in a manner that left you excited all over.

if your friends knew what you two were doing tonight, hell even your own families, you knew that there would be exchanging high-fives and possibly money over bets made ages ago.

"may i?" he asked as he leaned in closer.

you leaned in to meet the distance and kissed him on the lips. soft as you imagined and his hands only held onto you in a way that made you shudder under him. you moaned into the kiss as he rubbed up against you.

"you tell me if anything goes wrong, okay? don't hide from me." he said, "one thing i hate when it comes to sex, no communication. i want to make my best friend feel good."

you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your chest against his, "i have a feel after tonight we're not going to be best friends."

lando replied, "well, you'll always be my best friend. you'll just also be my girlfriend." then winked before he went in for another kiss. it grew heated and his touches grew more bold.

you looked at him and he smiled down at you. he cupped your cheek while you held him close. it felt right to be this way, to be so close. you kissed him once more and he exhaled deeply against your lips. you two fit perfectly together, just as you always did.

"you want it raw?"

"yes."

"i'll pull out, alright? gotta play it a little safe." he kissed the apple of your cheek before you ended up on your stomach. he hiked you hips up letting your back curve as he pressed himself against you. now on his knees and his cock at full attention.

you looked amazing, beyond amazing. a certain type of beautiful that when lando sank into you wet cunt, he felt the race of excitement through his body. he held onto your hips and carefully inched himself into you. he moaned a little louder, the feeling was intense, there was nothing else he could compare it to you. you were unlike anyone else he had ever slept with. it was different because you two were so close, you shared everything. now you were sharing a night of heated passion.

he admired your backside as he rocked against you. his hand trailed down your back and he loomed over you. you felt amazing, you left a certain want in the back of his throat as he moved against you. lifelong friends, partners through and through. now lovers in bed together, moving together in a heated ecstasy. you both wanted each other, it was painfully obvious.

"you feel amazing." he said softly, "really amazing."

"glad i have a glowing review from lando norris." you chuckled lightly as you held onto the covers under you, your back arched a little more as he hit all the right spots, "can i put that on my tinder profile?"

he pushed you further down onto the bed by the shoulders and moved against you faster, "no way. because you're not going on tinder." he kissed the center of your back as he held you, "because you're my girl now. how does that sound? no more lackluster tinder dates and finally being with the guy you had a crush on for years." then laid another sweet kiss on your heated skin.

you felt the stimulation, your brain felt a little hazy. you moaned a little bit and tensed up for a moment. you panted, "fucking hell, lando. always a way with words." you looked over your shoulder at him as he thrusted against you, "got us into trouble and out of trouble over the words."

he gave you a wicked grin and replied, "oh yeah, and you love it," then pressed into you further. hands on your hips once more as he worked himself against you. the pleasure was zaps in his blood and the feeling was immense.

this was his best friend, and maybe years of pining left him feeling desperate for you. he spent years trying to find you in other people. turned out the whole time he just could have had you. and that made him feel a flutter of love in his chest.

"you feel amazing." he said softly, "better than i could ever imagine. you spoil me, honey." he chuckled lowly as he kissed the shell of your ear as he continued to move against you a little faster.

"fuck, lando." you exhaled deeply, paired with a soft whine as his cock hit against all the right areas. it felt good, better than you could imagine yourself. you knew a younger you would be blushing at the idea that you finally got with lando. having sex in a spacious hotel room and letting him just have his way with you. you fit together quite well, it didn't hurt that you were soaked in the process.

achy for sex. achy for him. you were needy for the sexual pleasure between the two of you. like two magnets drawn together no matter the distance. you were his best friend, and now his lover. his girl.

you moaned a little louder as the pleasure started to reach its peak inside of you. you held onto the covers under you and arched your back a little further. you cursed into the covers and the sight of you was beautiful. to come completely apart under his touch.

"beautiful." he said softly.

"fuck, lando." you shuddered and was met with a hard pat on your behind. the feeling of his hands on you, "you better fucking pull out or i'm gonna kill you."

"of course, of course.' he cooed, "save the kids for after marriage." his tone was cheeky and your pussy clenched around him. he chuckled and leaned up against your ear, "cute." and you whined.

his quickened his pace and he felt the hunger for you in his core. he couldn't believe it. part of him believed that he got hit in the head on the track and this was a fantasy of his. but, hey, if he was currently in the hospital with a goose egg on his head from being hit and this was what his rattled brain could come up with. then who was he to deny it. especially when you felt so good under him.

you tensed up around him once more and gasped against the covers. your eyes squeezed shut as you let out such a sweet moan. you shuddered as you felt yourself reach your orgasm, "fuck." even swears sounded heavenly on your lips.

he remembered trading pokemon cards with you, the time you watched him kart and cheered the loudest out of everyone. the times together, the totally platonic sleepovers. everything, fuck. to have you now, not as a friend but as a lover. that was everything to him.

you climaxed and it only pushed lando further. he pushed right up into you and made you near scream from the sensation. you two moved against each other roughly. but lando had to keep a sense of control or else he was going to finish inside of you.

"that's it. baby, that's it. fucking perfect for me.' his voice heavy with lust and it made your head throb. your cursed into the covers and lando fucked you harder, "next time i'm gonna make you finish twice. burn out your brain." he kissed your cheek, "perfect girl deserves all the orgasms she wants."

"flirt." you whined, face shoved into the covers, which only made lando laugh.

"glad you finally picked up on it, after fifteen years as friends." he thrusted into you a few more times before he pulled himself out and rapidly jerked off his cock against your back. it wasn't the same as the what of your cunt, but it would have to do. his pants were heavy as he said, "that's it, baby. fuck, look at you. you have driven me crazy my entire life. no one else can compare to you."

you laid there panting, your core swamped with wetness and your back curved to let him paint your back with his cum. you whined when you felt the splash of his cum against your backside.

"fuck." his voice was guttural, his breathing heavy and his eyes near rolled back into his head as he came across your hot skin. he felt sparks in his brain and could barely form a coherent thought as he came.

when it was all said and done, he rested fully on his heels, his cock limp between his legs. he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and exhaled deeply.

you laid there, not wanting to get cum all over the sheets. as the temperature in the room cooled, you lifted your head a little and said, "lando... can you help me clean up?"

and your best friend turned lover woke back up from his sexual trance and said, "oh, of course! yeah!" then quickly went to find a towel in the bathroom.

you knew you'd had to have a conversation about what you were now. but with butterflies in your stomach you knew you wouldn't be walking out of your hotel room without a lando as your boyfriend <3

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 731.

Well, after two long years of posting, I’m finally taking a break.

Thank you guys for everything for the past two years. It’s genuinely been so fun making daily doodles. But all good things must come to an end eventually. I’m tired.

What are the plans moving forward?

read below the cut if you’d like to know!!

Taking a break:

Life in general has been really rough lately. Tons of family drama, personal medical issues making it impossible to function some days, and my childhood dog recently passed away a few days after Christmas last year. So it was a real challenge to “keep up appearances” if you know what I mean.

I’ve said this plenty of times in the past already, however I’ll repeat it since there’s surprisingly a lot more new people that have followed since then. I’m taking a whole month off from posting entirely. So I won’t be active on Silksongeveryday until about March 14th. Why? Hopefully it’s obvious but posting daily content for two years straight really does something to you. I’ve grown tired of this blog just a little bit, and I feel stepping away from it for a month will help me reconnect. I still love the game and its community, and I’d hate for my disinterest in a single blog to ruin that. If a month long break could fix that then so be it.

I’m also taking a somewhat indefinite break from daily doodles. I WILL still be posting doodles occasionally every once in a while after I come back from my month long break. However I won’t be doing daily doodles.

So no daily doodles ever again?

There is only one condition that has to be met for me to return to daily doodles.

A Silksong release date is announced.

Which is…let’s face it, a release date might not happen any time soon. 6 years of near radio silence from TC? I’m not expecting much, especially not in a month.

But WHEN a release date is announced I’ll definitely return to daily doodles and do a sort of daily “countdown” until Silksong is officially out.

Will doodle requests still be open?

Yes! Even if I will no longer be doing daily posts I will still occasionally post every once in a while with doodles! So if there’s a specific doodle you’d like to request and you have an extra $1 hanging around, hornet doodle requests are open on my ko-fi!!

What about the current projects that were happening on Silksongeveryday?

I’m still working on them! Just as mentioned before, a lot of stuff happened irl so it’s kind of on the back burner.

For the Hornet Journal Series: I plan to post the remaining entries after I come back from my month long break. Whether I work on them during that month long break totally depends on how I’m feeling. But there may be a likely chance I work on a few here and there on my own time! But regardless, I do plan to finish this project. So no worries!

For Hornet’s Strange adventures: I know it’s been ages since this particular project finished on the blog. Development for the free game is slow going since I’m working on this project entirely by myself with a game engine I’ve never used before. Progress is being made but it’s unfortunately slow thanks for irl conflicts. But, just like the journal series, I do plan to finish this project so I promise it won’t be abandoned!! I just need a break first lol.

___________

I think that’s all I have to say?? But if anyone has any questions, asks are always open and I’m more than happy to answer just about anything!

Thanks again for the wonderful experience, it’s been an amazing journey with you guys <3

See you all in a month!!

[muhlsworld]

HARD LAUNCH

pairing: caitlin clark x fem!reader

synopsis: caitlin finally reveals her relationship with you

WARNINGS: none i think

you can find the request here and here!

caitlin and you had been together since your freshman year at iowa. however you guys kept a secret from pretty much everyone except your teammates and family. you were ready to tell the world you were in love with caitlin clark. but she wasn’t ready yet and you were okay with it.

as caitlin’s skill and popularity grew dating speculations started to come to the surface. but they weren’t about you. they were about her and one of the men’s basketball players. connor.

you knew caitlin would never ever try anything with him. but he was always so persistent. he was always seen with caitlin. like he planted the pictures of them. caitlin always reassured you that there was nothing going on with him despiste the pictures being put out by the media.

as time went on connor had graduated from iowa and the speculation came to a halt. however there were still some diehard fans of caitlin and connor. but you never let it get to you.

cut to present time, which was valentine’s day during the offseason after caitlin’s rookie year. you guys had planned to hangout at home that day. but caitlin’s had gone out quickly for some groceries since she was making dinner for you two.

while you were at your shared apartment a new photo came out of caitlin. but it wasn’t just caitlin. it was a picture of connor giving caitlin a rose. and boy did the fans eat that up. the speculation immediately started up again.

you thought the worst of it. was caitlin ashamed of you? no that couldn’t be right? you were just going to wait for her to get home. and once she got home you started asking questions.

“caitlin what is this?” you say showing her the photo that was captured. she sighed as she took your phone from your hands. “he just came up to me and bombarded me with rose and i didn’t know what to do.” she said in a rush. you just stared at the floor.

“look i’ll fix this.” she said as she pulled out her phone.

you stared at her in confusion. not knowing what she was doing, you were about to peak and look at her phone when you got a notification on yours drawing the attention away from caitlin’s. the notification read ‘caitlinclark22 tagged you in a story’.

“cait what did you do?” you asked as you opened up the notification and saw her story.

it was picture that you had taken the day before. you were kissing caitlin’s cheek while she had a cheesy grin on her face. she had captioned the photo with ‘thankful to spend another valentine’s day with my love’.

your eyes welled up with tears and you finally loin up from your phone to see caitlin smiling at you. “are you sure you’re okay with that?” you asked immediately. “it’s about time the world knows how lucky i am.” she said as she pulled you into a kiss.

you and caitlin had put your phones on dnd for the rest of the night not wanting to be interrupted.

but little did you two know the uproar that caitlin just caused. the whole internet was going insane at the hard launch that caitlin’s just did. there were so many people making edits and tagging you in all of them.

people started reposting old pictures and saying how obvious it was but no one noticed because of connor. the whole basketball community was going crazy.

but you two paid no mind to it.

just being happy in each other’s presence.

that was the best valentines gift you could ever ask for.

A/N: i hope i did this request justice!! send in more cc requests pls

[khorneschosen]

Have you ever heard the famous quote that which can be expressed without evidence can be dismissed without evidence.

I don't have a reply because my reply would be that this was off topic one two that it does not directly deal with my argument and three within the context of this could be just swept a side as irrelevant to our current conversation.

So in short your card form of argumentation is invalid but hey there was a point found in that. So I'll answer it just to let you.

And then I had to ask myself the question is it really possible to argue to you that perhaps what you're seeing through your very very I'm sure very objective media buys is not very rational because the one question is when you consider his past run and how he picked people and his current run it seems like he's picking people willing to bear the slings and arrows alongside him which was a major flaw and the people he picked last time.

Most people had to deal with your peoples insanity and decided fuck it I don't want to have to deal with this. But thankfully you guys have canceled so many people that there is a bond to be had by the fact that so many are already automatically hated.

As such for our purposes it's a great pic he's picking people he knows he can trust considering that we're dealing with a low trust situation.

For example when the FBI went after the mob they picked people who were not good people make no mistake they had problems of their own many problems many illegal problems. But this made them all the more loyal because one thing that the mob liked to do and was very good at doing was buying disloyalty.

Do you recognize this perspective to be valid do you recognize this perspective to be true can an unseen eye see the truth I don't think so hence why I didn't say it then.

So then I ask again how do you think this plays out what is your game plan here or you just flailing and hoping to God something hits because you don't actually understand any of us. Me least of all because I'm the grass that bends the other way even within this community and others. I'm a good old-fashioned freak in politics who kind of loves how the great game is played.

Or do you never plan that far ahead with anyone I want you to understand I'm going to be the toughest opponent that my kind can bring out for you because I listen to clearly and understand too much and what I get from you is a severe ignorance about the opposition because you have been taught badly how to understand your opposition your methodology is flawed

How fucking insane is U.S. politics when there are people out there defending the politicians who are stealing their tax dollars

[ginggain]

What sport did you used to play? Also, what made you finally give in and eat yourself into a lardass

So I played baseball, football, and hockey! I also tried just about everything growing up from running to soccer to basketball. I would always run and I was a very fast runner, and decent at most sports too but I was always the tall skinny kid, so after high school into college I decided to put on more weight (first pic is start of college second is end) so I put on about 15-20 pounds after high school, mostly muscle and I loved it, I loved feeling bigger and more dominant, I loved being hungrier and being able to eat more, and at this point I had already been exposed to feederism but I never considered it for myself. One night in college I decided to just go get a bunch of food and eat until I couldn’t anymore… then my greatest orgasm ever happened lmaoooo… it felt so different and so good, I pictured myself growing larger and larger and feeling so much better the heavier I got. I didn’t really try to stuff too much after then, just making sure to eat consistent, I didn’t know if it was what I wanted yet in life but it was definitely there.

So then on and off for about two years after that I bounced from living in my college town to living back home to eventually finding my own place. I stuck around 160 for a lot of that time in there, would work on the road and lose 10 pounds here sometimes more, so I could never consistently hit the gym or consistently stuff and eat. Then about a year ago I slowly slipped back in, I started stuffing again, I started spending days at a time just eating and growing. I loved the feeling and I loved how greedy I was and felt. Over time I became a lot bigger in the community and a lot bigger person lmao. From august of ‘24 till now I have put on around 30 pounds and I have loved how fast it has piled on and I have never felt better about my body. The itch to keep growing and to see just how fat you can be never goes away, you forget about it and it grows and grows in your mind until you turn right back to it :) I fully have plans on this being my life now. I’m ready to give it all up, I’ve had my fun in my past smaller body, done everything I could really do with it and I’ve just always wanted to experience a whole different lifestyle of being big and every move revolves around food. I so badly yearn to be that biggest person in the room at any time, just eyes drawing towards you wondering how a person could possibly become that big. Not knowing my whole past life of being fit and healthy. Plus I know a lot of you find it quite hot how a person decides to make drastic changes that effects every part of their life :)) hope you all enjoyed reading!!

P.s what I mean by being unrecognizable is like to compleeeeetly change forms, so that my arms don’t even look the same, so that so much fat grows on my neck and face it makes it not even look like who I used to be, just someone drowning in their own lard, knowing they did it to themselves and knowing they are too physically big to turn it around. That’s unrecognizable.

[fuctacles]

i was gonna cut it in half, but you get 2k for Valentine's Day <3

<< thirteen | 😺 | fifteen >>

Eddie asks Wayne where is a good place to make key copies, and drafts a plan. He'll go to Steph's salon, pick up her keys, make a copy for her, and drop them back before she leaves work. Just a tiny good deed from a friendly neighbour, so she doesn't have to juggle her one set between cat feeders and whatnot. 

Except Wayne sees through him immediately and throws a bucket of cold water on his enthusiasm.

"While I fully support whatever you two are doing..." He promptly raises his hand so Eddie would spare him any of the explanations brewing behind his lips. "I think this would be a little too much."

"How?" Eddie frowns, confused.

"Well, a bachelor she has just met is asking for her keys to make copies. It's a little too much too fast, don't you think?"

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it. Frowns.

"Maybe?"

"How would you feel if a new friend thought they know better how many keys you should own?" Wayne raises his eyebrows. "And took it upon themself to do it for you?"

"Okay, fine, I hear you!" Eddie groans, throwing his hands up. 

Wayne sips on his coffee, now calm enough that his nephew won't do something too stupid. 

"With that said, I too think it's silly to not have a spare."

"Thank you," Eddie murmurs, drumming his fingers against his cup. "So what do I do?"

"Buy her flowers, ever heard of it?" Wayne raises his eyebrow. 

Eddie twists his mouth, unconvinced with the idea. 

"I don't know, it sounds pretty forward..."

Wayne almost snorts his coffee out of his nose.

Eddie follows the blanket permission he got the last day and walks up to Steph's apartment around the same time. Since he felt that bringing her flowers would be too much, he settled on cookies from his favorite bakery. They could share them with coffee or tea, and it wouldn't be too weird. 

It's just...

He really hopes they could actually talk.

When he opens the doors labeled 54, he's hit with the smell of spices. Steph leans through the kitchen door to greet him.

"Hi! I'm making fried rice, do you want some?"

Eddie nods, curbing the desire to come over and kiss her.

"Yeah, it smells good." He steps into the kitchen, setting the cookies on the counter. "Can I help with something?"

Steph keeps stirring for a second, before she points to one of the cupboards.

"Take out two bowls, please?" she asks.

Eddie's been in the apartment all alone, and he's looked through Steph's stuff to some extent. Opening cupboards while she's cooking shouldn't feel as thrilling as it does. 

When she finishes the food, he grabs beers for the two of them, and they move to the the living room again, a movie already waiting to be played.

"Is Willow okay?" she asks, hovering over the play button, and Eddie's eyes couldn't go any wider. Only one lamp is left on in the room, and the TV is illuminating Steph like an angel offering him the finest pleasures in life. 

"Is the sky blue?" he shoots back. "It's one of my favorites." 

She smiles, all self satisfied and wide, like she already knew he'll love the movie. 

Eddie tilts his head, eyeing her suspiciously. 

"Did Wayne tell you?"

Steph shakes her head 'no'. 

"It was a lucky guess," she admits coyly. 

Oh, to be known like that by another human. Have someone with enough intimate knowledge of him to guess his thoughts, pick out things they know he'll like. She knows he'll like. 

Eddie does like the movie, but he wishes it was something boring so they could talk. Of course, he's also enjoying having Steph pressed against his shoulder, and the movie is a great excuse to just be in her presence, without the responsible adult communication thing. 

It's when she gets up asking if he wants another beer, when he realizes he's been too engrossed in the movie. 

"Uh, I'm not even halfway," he says, moving the bottle in his hand. 

"But are you gonna drink more?"

"Probably," he shrugs. 

She brings back another four beers, and as this time he's paying attention, he notices she's already drunk a fair amount of the one she's holding.

"Everything okay?" he asks gently. He doesn't remember Steph drinking this fast, or this much, during their previous hang-outs. And it's a weekday, too.

"Mhm, yep." She plops down next to him heavily, but even the weight of her body against him doesn't soothe his nerves. On the contrary. It's easy to tell she's already tipsy, and she's planning to have at least two more beers, including the one in her hand. 

"Not to be a buzzkill, you know..." Eddie licks his lips nervously. "But you're drinking more than usual."

She makes an amused sound, deep in her throat.

"Tell that to my high school self."

"Well, I'm telling it to my adult friend Stephanie, I don't know that other one."

Steph huffs, staring at the screen.

"Good."

At loss of what else to say, he leans back against the couch, hoping the press of their shoulders will bring her some comfort his words apparently can't. He's turning to the TV, when she speaks up.

"I have something to tell you."

Eddie's eyes immediately go back to her, but she's staring ahead. 

"Yeah?" he prompts.

"After the movie."

He's confused and worried, but since she wants him to stay, it can't be anything bad, right?

"Okay," he says, feeling anything but. All the possible confessions are going through his mind, movie forgotten. The only things he's aware of are Steph's movements when she brings up the bottle to her lips, and her muscles flex against his arm, and his own racing thoughts. 

She's going to tell him she's a lesbian just like Robin. Maybe they're secretly a long distance couple, or she has a thing with Joyce. Or she has a man in another state. A secret family, a husband? What if she has a kid? Eddie would make a good step-dad, but he wasn't planning for that any time soon. Or maybe it's way simpler than that, and she'll finally tell him to stop, that she's not interested, never was. That Eddie, a metal musician still in college, isn't worth it. 

"I wasn't born a woman."

The credits are rolling on the screen, letters forming Eddie's miserable scenarios, and he's so focused on them he barely hears Steph's words. But finally, he turns his head towards her. She's slumped next to him, picking on the label of her empty beer bottle. He's so relieved he doesn't understand what's going on.

"I know." Not his best reaction but he can't believe she's been worried about it all this time, drinking just to tell him something he's already figured out.

Steph frowns, before turning to him with glassy eyes. 

"You know?"

He points to the collage on her wall.

"You have your old photos right there?"

She stares at the display like she's seeing it for the first time in her life. Her eyes widen with the realization and she makes a sound between a snort and a groan, head falling back. 

"Of course I fucking do."

Eddie drums his fingers against his beer bottle. He still has a couple of swings left. 

"Is that what you were so worried about?"

"Of course!" She throws out her hands angrily, startling him. "It's always 'do you not want me, Steph?' and then 'ew, you have a what?' or 'i always wanted to fuck someone like that' and honestly? At this point I don't know which one is worse. So yes, I was fucking worried!" 

Steph stands up angrily, swaying a little, but she quickly catches her balance. She starts gathering the empty bottles and Eddie rushes to help before she drops any and makes a mess, but she gathers them petulantly in her arms. 

"You can go, I got this," she says dismissively. 

"I want to help," he protests, hands held out uselessly. Steph marches to the kitchen, all the bottles pressed close to her chest. Eddie quickly follows, but she safely deposits them all in the sink and stares at them, expression hidden by her hair. 

"Stop sucking up to me. I'm not something to be scratched off a bucket list."

"What?" Eddie frowns. 

Steph finally turns towards him, and now he wishes she didn't. Her eyes are sad and angry and he doesn't like them directed at him like that. 

"Is that why you kissed me? Because you knew?"

'I always wanted to fuck someone like that.'

"No. No," he protests firmly. "I liked you before that, it doesn't matter to me."

"Are you sure?" she scoffs. "You might change your mind when I get undressed."

"I highly doubt that." He crosses his arms over his chest. "I've told you I'm not deterred by d—" His eyes widen momentarily, the word lodging in his throat, but Steph only rolls her eyes with annoyance. 

"You can say 'dick'. I have a dick. I am a woman with a dick."

That's a lot of dicks for just a few words. And Eddie is trying to prove that he's into them but not in a weird way. Which is difficult when you're rarely normal about anything. 

"Yeah, that, and I've had close encounters with those, though never on a woman before," he admits. "I would operate whatever genitals you have because they're yours, not because I'm hoping they're a certain way. I don't care. Well, I care because they're yours, but if you told me I can never touch or look, that's okay." Though what a travesty that would be. What about all the orgasms he promised her in his head? But she still has a prostate, right? He probably could—

"Say it," Steph interrupts his futuristic plans.

"Huh?"

"Say I have a dick." She crosses her arms tightly over her chest. 

Eddie inhales deeply. 

"You have a dick. It doesn't matter to me either way. You could have a pussy, a dick, or a cacti, and I would accommodate. Though we probably would have to get rid of the thorns on the last one. Or get me some protective gear."

She lets out a startled snort.

"Yeah, sure. We'll see about that."

It sounds like a challenge, and while Eddie might hate sports, he loves games. If it's up his alley, he can get competitive easily, and this one promises great treasures, if he wins. 

If only he knew the rules. 

"Tomorrow, same time. Wear something comfortable."

Eddie's eyes widen.

"For what?" His voice comes out higher than he'd like, but his mind quickly resurfaces from the gutter it found itself in, and he frowns, suddenly suspicious. "Will you make me exercise?"

Her features soften, and a playful smirk pulls on her lips. 

"You'll see."

Her smile is a good sign, even if it's at his expense, so he decides not to push his luck anymore and end the night here. 

"Well, I'm gonna..." He awkwardly motions to the door, hesitating. 

Steph is leaning against the bar counter, watching him knowingly. 

"You can get a goodnight kiss tonight," she says, resting her cheek against her palm. "Or get more tomorrow."

Eddie wonders, if the game has already started. He puts his quick Dungeon Master wits to work, and figures with how far he's come, he gets advantage on the Charisma check. 

"I could live off of goodnight kisses for forever," he says. "There's no need for anything more."

He almost feels bad at how fast her resolve crumbles, giving place to fiery red flush. 

"Fucking charmer," she scoffs almost angrily, before rounding the counter towards him. The energy coming off of her makes him take a step back, and he hits the front door. Steph's nails scratch the wooden surface right next to his ear. She tilts her head. 

"You're gonna put your money where your mouth is?" 

Eddie's been trying to get better at that, sometimes to his own demise—staying true to his words, keeping promises. So he reaches for her neck and pulls her in.

It's more like their first kiss than the last one. It's hungrier, the knowledge that they both want more seeping into their muscles, grasping at clothes, pulling and pushing. Eddie groans into Steph's hot mouth, happy to be pressed between her soft, strong body, and the cold door. She pushes even closer, gathering the sound with her tongue and claiming it for herself. 

They pull apart with a wet smack, and Steph laughs breathily at the dopey smile she finds directed at her. She pats Eddie's cheek affectionately and untangles herself from his grasp. The door clicks when she twists the lock, and it seems to bring Eddie back from his daze. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," she says pointedly. 

He blinks at her, before his soft smile comes back, and he reaches up again to place one last kiss on her lips. 

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow," he smiles, before slipping outside the door. 

Steph is terrible person, and also more smitten with this boy than she'd want to admit, so she looks through the peephole at the dimly lit corridor. She hopes Eddie can't hear her chuckle at the silly dance he does while walking away from her door.

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16

help me with rent

[drdemonprince]

i have chronic hand pain and the thing thats truly done the most for my recovery is getting in touch with my limits and learning to stop autistically pushing thru them. taking breaks and icing and just chilling tf out sometimes has brought me more healing than anything else. claps for you! its tough!

It is crazy hard because my default is to just lock the fuck in so much so that I don't even notice I'm in pain. and I'm just such an intensity junkie in a way, I'm just blasting myself with information and ideas and communication and stress and the few physical sensations that do get through to my body all the time and then wondering why I'm so pissed the fuck off. and when I have nothing to do, when I do actually try to slow down, I immediately fear the despair that could set in and I just don't let it. Even though if I do let myself get past that I do love this slow contemplative mindset that I can get into. The imagination and one's wandering thoughts are a beautiful thing to witness and so peaceful too. it's like I forget that. and I have just had it so drilled in my head that you have to use it or lose it, every physical capability, every mental skill, you have to keep using it, so that you'll still have it, you can't rest. I'm in tension all the time pretty much. thank god for this alternatingly gentle / cruel (but always controlling) top who pushes me down into the mattress and makes me play dead and relax my holes so they can stretch that shit out as deep as they can possibly go, it's literally been such a therapeutic body relaxation exercise lmao. good for the atrophy too. but sometimes they have to remind me to breathe out and relax every muscle my body so many fucking times before I go limp. I really need to chill out sometimes. All the times

[taeaura]

Thomas {Hewitt}'s Voice

Because I swear he can talk 🙏

Hii - I’ve been thinking about this for a while now: What would Thomas’ voice sound like? I decided to waste my time {watching TCM interviews / bts} so that I could gauge what Thomas’ voice would sound like.

Evidently, Thomas would have an accent reminiscent of those around him. Luda Mae, Henrietta, and Kathryn / The Tea Lady have the most authentic ‘Texan’ accents out of the family, considering those actresses are the only ones from Texas. Hoyt / R Lee Ermey is from Kansas, and Old Monty / Terrence Evans was born in Pensylvania. Andrew Bryniarski {Thomas} was also born in Pensylvania - Which is very evident in his accent in later interviews.

Things to consider: Bryniarski has been suspected of the usage of sterroids and alcohol abuse - Which can alter your voice - This is extremely prevalent when comparing modern interviews to older interviews.

Bryniarski’s voice is slightly nasally, a bit raspy, and on the deeper-end of the spectrum. At times, his pitch is average - Others, it’s lower. His voice never gets ‘high’ when he’s speaking, but it can through non-serious or extreme measures. I.E; When Thomas' leg gets cut {1:19:15}, Erin chops off his arm {1:25:07}.

Speech Pattern:

Thomas' vocal cords don't appear to be damaged, just scarcely used. This could make speaking a difficult and uncomfortable {mentally, physically} task for Thomas. It's a chore rather than second-nature. This also applies to his oral and mastication muscles. The only time he uses his mastication muscles is when he eats - which is AT MAX three times a day. I'd say maybe just two. This would lead to muscle atrophy - weakening or loss of mass in the muscles. When we talk, the neck and tongue muscles {Strap muscles, Thyroid muscle group, Cricoarytenoid muscle group, Genioglossus, hyoglossus, palatoglossus, styloglossus, Superior lingualis, inferior lingualis, vertical lingualis, and transverse lingualis} do the majority of the work.

Considering Thomas' mastication muscles are weaker, he'd {most likely} have difficulty pronouncing "t", "k", "d", "g", and "r". Thomas would also be prone to slurring, mispronunciation, slow speech / common pauses, enunciate the wrong syllable - or enunciate equally, and inconsistent speech / errors.

Here's clips of Andrew speaking on the TCM set - I figured clips of him on / around set would be more accurate to how Tommy speaks JUST BECAUSE Andrew would be in the headspace of Thomas during this time.

{Warning: The audio quality is so ass I apologize 😞}

I think Thomas' voice would be more like Bryniarski's in the third video - where he's talking about Leatherface's relation to the chainsaw | 'Leatherface's best friend is his chainsaw.' {Which I will be making a post about that specific statement.}

Obviously - Thomas would have a southern {Texan, specifically} accent, though I don't know how 'rough' or 'thick' his accent would be. I have an inkling that Thomas would have a rasp because of his weakened vocal cords. Probably lots of depth to his voice, though it wouldn't be excruciatingly deep. Most likely reminiscent of Andrew's pitch - With minor changes depending on the situation, energy levels, hydration, headspace, and how much he's spoken that day {I'm projecting here ☝️🤓}. His preferred form of communication would be minimal, blunt statements, using as little words as possible. Simple 'yes'' and 'no's' would be portrayed through nodding / shaking of the head. Directions would be communicated via pointing.

For example;

"Have you eaten yet? / Are you hungry?" = "You eat?"

"I like green." = "Green, good."

This is NOT because Thomas is dumb - Contrary to popular belief of the town. It's because talking is a chore for Thomas. It's something he has to think and put effort into as opposed to yapping your ear off. He'd also only speak if it was really important. I doubt he'd be a chatterbox, but he'd make noise like grunts or groans - Some incomprehensible sounds that are only distinguishable by those who've been around him long enough. You'll get the hang of it - Recognizing certain sounds correlate with specific experiences or responses. Do NOT try to imitate them - He'll glare and shut off socially; Which is the opposite of what you want if you want to get close to Thomas. {And Luda Mae would beat you black n' blue for making fun of Tommy.}

--

tldr; Thomas would {most likely} have a voice reminiscent of Andrew Bryniarski's - Slightly raspy, heavily molded by a Texan accent and pronunciation issues.

____

[durgeapologist]

Omg your blog is such a relief. Every day I feel more and more like I want to distance myself from about 80% of the Solavellan community bc I am telling you it is ROUGH being into the egg and wanting to talk about him but being surrounded by people who think that everyone and their mother is out to get them. Meanwhile someone can come up with valid criticisms about how Lavellan's characterization was handled in VG and get swarmed with unsolicited opinions about solrook shippers and accusations of misogyny. I also see them running around in posts that are clearly marked as "Critical" And half the time when I CAN talk to them about Solas it's like they aren't even talking about the same character I am? They want him to be some helpless little abuse victim who isn't responsible for anything he does??? Why are we redeeming him if he did nothing wrong? What would be the point? We love him because he's fucked up and a manipulative bastard but also complex???? Did we play the same game girlies???

i have been staring at this ask since it came in trying to find a normal way to respond to you anon i will be so fr rn so i am so sorry it's taken a few hours

i’ll start with this:

“Why are we redeeming him if he did nothing wrong?”

full stop. this. so much. (i am in love with you anon) why is there a atonement/redemption ending if he did nothing wrong? (you’re literally so real) solas has done horrendous things. like genuinely abhorrent. (i crave to be your friend so bad anon) he is a genocidal, serial killing, manipulative lying cunt. to say the least. AND THAT IS WHY I LOVE HIM. he has such complex characteristics that make him so intriguing. he wants to be a good person. but he doesn’t really know how to be genuine. he is riddled with guilt and regret. he feels BAD about the things he has done. but he doesn’t want to face his mistakes. he knows he has done absolutely terrible things in the name of his people and their liberation, things most of them never asked him to do. some even asked him to NOT DO THOSE THINGS. did he listen? of course not! this is solas we are talking about. arrogant, prideful, calculating solas.

“They want him to be some helpless little abusive victim who isn’t responsible for anything he does.”

yes. yep. THIS SO BAD. (genuinely let me be your friend pls i am on my knees begging) the dynamic between solythal gets convoluted by most solasmancers because of three things: misogyny, jealousy, and ignorance. was there abuse? yeah. not denying that. was there only abuse? no. mythal was a victim of abuse herself. the way she learned to love, she passed down to solas. BOTH were victims of abuse who did terrible, no good, awful things. BOTH were also extremely powerful, omnipotent, and power-hungry individuals. mythal's hunger for power showcased differently than solas' and was amplified (IMO) by elgar'nan whispering in her ear. solas had felassan to keep him in check.

i am of the UPMOST certainty that had solas not taken down the evanuris the way he did and went to sleep after creating the veil, he would have become another tyrant ruling over the elven people. (THE MASKED EMPIRE ANYONE? HELLO? HELLOOOOO?) also anyone who says she was his MOTHER or SISTER?? god please drown me. put me in a tub and hold my head under water. that was his PARTNER AND HIS LOVER. i cannot with the takes that she raised his ass COME ON. i have sooooo much more to say about this dynamic and the themes of abuse AND how solasmancers twist it to make her this most evil, vile, horrible woman; but i would like to keep some of my followers tbh (anon i am frothing at the mouth if you want to discuss this further i beg you to dm me) so we shall move on.

"...valid criticisms about how Lavellan's characterization was handled in VG..."

yeah full stop i will never forgive them for making her one personality type. sorry, i just won't. my lavellan egg-mancer was a strong-willed and angry proud dalish woman who told solas off every chance she could! i am genuinely so happy people who wanted the dynamic we got in VG got that, because that is how their lavellan is/was, but what about the lavs who punched him? who told him to stop being an asshole about elves, and just farmed approval for the romance by asking questions? i chose to hunt his ass down BECAUSE I WANTED TO HUNT HIS ASS DOWN! my lavellan would not be so understanding or forgiving, she just wouldn't, so it feels like my girl's personality was ripped away from her fr. now, i DO NOT agree with some of the takes on how she was presented because those criticisms are in fact riddled with misogyny and most are just downright vile. but i do agree with the criticisms that not all lavellans would have been so kind to that bald man.

so anon, TRUST me when i say i feel you so bad. i was in lots of solavellan spaces before i started shipping dreadrook, and even then i was looked at SO funny for my takes on the romance and called plenty of terrible things simply because i didn't hold solas up on this pedestal and make my lav worship the ground he walked on. even as a dreadrooker, the same exact takes that i couldn't get behind in solav spaces are very prevalent in dreadrook spaces. solasmancers have a tendency to simply agree with solas on everything and refuse to acknowledge how bad of a person he really can be.

i am a proud solasmancer AND a proud solas hater. #1 solas hater, in fact. i rarely have positive things to say about his actions and behaviors outside of a joke setting, and even in a joke setting the things people will say to defend him RUB ME SO BADLY THE WRONG WAY. also heavy on the perusing the "critical" tags and getting offended when my takes are, in fact, critical LMFAO. anon i am literally a beggar sitting on the side of the street waving a metal cup at you asking for coins of your affection rn. i have maybe one other friend who feels like this and have hardly anyone to rant about these things with. holding my hands out towards you and begging you to dm me fr. PLEASE. we can be critical together <3

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️ 🗨️

FIRST WORDS OF THIS BAD BOY

84 for 🗨️:

---

It all starts because of a call to a senior’s home. 

Well, okay. Buck is sure it all started way before that. But in the immediate sense, it starts because of the senior’s home call. 

There’s a small kitchen fire in one of the units. Someone making stovetop popcorn, who forgot it was on the element. Honestly, it’s nothing the staff couldn’t handle with a fire extinguisher, but the LAFD is automatically flagged when the smoke alarm goes off. The problem is, the whole experience - the alarms, the smoke, the firefighters - triggers a panic attack in a completely different resident. A resident who, according to staff, already struggles with progressing dementia.

Her name is Alva, and when Hen and Chim approach her to try and help, she’s speaking rapid-fire in a language that is completely unfamiliar to Buck. Some flavor of European? 

“Sometimes when she’s stressed, her English regresses,” one of the workers explains. “She didn’t learn it until later in life, so…”

“Harder to retain,” Hen fills in. 

“So how do we communicate with her?” Chim asks. “What language is this?”

“It’s Swedish,” Eddie says. 

They all look at him. Buck did not know he could identify Swedish just by hearing it. 

But then he does something even crazier. Even more out of the realm of what Buck would expect from Eddie. Eddie, his best friend, who he’s supposed to know everything about. He approaches the woman and starts speaking to her. In Swedish. He doesn’t sound totally comfortable with it. It’s slow and awkward on his tongue, compared to hers. But he’s obviously doing a decent enough job, because the woman calms down enough to listen and respond to him. 

The four of them - Buck, Bobby, Hen, and Chim - just sort of gape at this exchange. Did anyone know? Why has this never come up before? 

Eventually, Eddie looks back at them. 

“Alva’s okay,” he says in English. “Doesn’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Thank you so much,” the worker says. “You’re a miracle worker!”

Eddie’s cheeks go a little red. “No trouble, really.”

They give Alva another few minutes to calm down and orient herself before a worker leads her back to her room. Then they all head back to the station. Of course, from the look on Eddie’s face as they leave the senior’s home, he understands he’s about to get grilled.

“So…” Bobby starts when they all sit down in the engine.

“Swedish?” Chim asks. 

“Wouldn’t have put money on that,” Hen adds.

“Why did you tell me?” Buck asks.

Eddie groans. “So I speak a little Swedish. No big deal.”

“Um, it is a big deal,” Buck says. “Because I didn’t know.”

“I’d say more than a little,” Bobby replies. “You really helped that woman, Eddie.”

“I’ve mentioned my mom is Swedish,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah,” Chim says. “But I thought it was, like, one of those things where it’s several generations past and culturally no longer relevant, but the white side of your family liked feeling special?”

Eddie snorts. “No. Like, she immigrated when she was seven.”

“And taught you Swedish?” Hen asks. “That’s cool.”

Buck frowns. Given what he knows about Eddie’s childhood, mother-son language lessons do not sound like they fit. 

“Not exactly,” Eddie says. “I picked some of it up. There’s not much else to say, okay? It came in handy today.”

They all know Eddie enough to know that that means the conversation is over. He’s great at putting up walls quickly. Shutting stuff down. But, although Buck may not know the full linguistic capabilities of his best friend, he does know one thing. Eddie only gets this dismissive because there is more to the story. So Buck will wait. Buck can wait to ask more. But he’s absolutely going to find out. 

🗨️

It’s sort of a sensitive time to be prying into Eddie’s life. Buck knows that. The guy has only been home from El Paso for two weeks. He’s got Chris back. That’s a good thing. But it’s not entirely smooth.

[lifsheep]

Ok so I made a theory a while ago with a friend, who posted it in a thread on Twitter, and since some new things have happened with this “new” mocha I wanna share my new takes on this theory :]

Link to the main theory (pls read this before continuing): https://vxtwitter.com/unluckybluelily/status/1890453801087180818

Now, there are a few new things shared on Pili’s stream yesterday which kinda confirm this theory and bring up interesting points

His job back “home” is more of a commitment to the community and making sure everyone is okay

They used to have a news paper service

Paper was a expensive thing to get

Someone delivered it on a reindeer

They had a rat problem

Doesn’t care about twilight

There was a time he used to kill a lot of people for fun but left that life away

He remembers killing but doesn’t remembers why he started to do so

Before the factory he lived in a place with a big purple screen with magic

Isn’t a cat but doesn’t know what he is

Got used to being a cat

The mentions of pap frost and the factory pretty much confirm that this mocha is from Halls smp, as well as hints about him being the mayor of a town he built, Snowden.

The first thing that stands out to me is the killing part. We know that after being betrayed by his towns people h!Mocha went through a villain arc which has lasted till trsmp, but he says it was a life he left behind….

Perhaps this could be referencing other smps (also called realms in canon) before Halls winter smp where h!Mocha could’ve been killing people for fun. Another hint to that could be that he doesn’t remember how he started to do this, and if that period of time was from when the people of Snowden betrays him, he would definitely remember the “why”.

Still, if it is referencing that part of Halls winter smp, then perhaps this Mocha is a h!Mocha from an alternate universe where he forgave the betrayal done to him, unlike our tr!Mocha.

Other than that, another interesting thing is that Mocha isn’t really a cat, but do got used to it and doesn’t know what he actually is. This could also hint at this Mocha being more of a memory erased Mocha than an alternate version of Mocha. The reasoning behind this being that tr!Mocha acted a lot more cat like due to “getting used to being a cat” for far longer than h!Mocha. If this was an alternate version of h!Mocha then it would probably should be used to being a cat as well, but isn’t.

Another mini theory that this fact brings is that Mocha could be some sort of changeling. Before dying, I do remember mocha referencing doomed relationships, which reminds me a lot of this server called “dedsafio”. Pili is well known in the Hispanic community thanks to his roleplay as an otter in it. If Mocha is a changeling, it could potentially mean that dedsafio is also a realm Mocha was in before trsmp, and it could also explain why h!Mocha suddenly became a human in Halls winter smp for a while.

Lastly I wanna analyze a bit the fact that h!Mocha doesn’t care for twilight unlike tr!Mocha. I remember tr!Mocha saying that he related a lot to Edward, which could actually explain his fascination and fanaticism of twilight, and why h!Mocha doesn’t care for it.

Edward is basically a monster that falls in love with a human and constantly battles his urges to kill and consume her blood from what I am aware. To the dismay of many critics, Edward and Bella do end up together and have a happily ever after. This does parallel a bit how tr!Mocha views relationships, a great example being his friendships with Pangi.

tr!Mocha hates himself and views himself as a monster, or something harmful to others, which is one of the key reasons he pushed tr!pangi away, he felt he would be better off without him. Still, unlike what tr!Mocha envisions as the likely scenario of tragedy and hurt, in twilight the main character get to be happy despite all of the problems they face. This would make twilight not just any movie for tr!Mocha, but one that directly fulfills his fantasy of a happy ending.

h!Mocha on the other hand by not having experienced any of the tragic relationships tr!Mocha has, wouldn’t feel this connection at all, therefore not really caring for it.

That is all folks! Maybe one day I will write more tinfoil hat theories that somehow become true hours later lmao

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

the day you left michael kaiser was the day you died.

you didn’t lose your life, but you surely lost your heart. too many pieces of it had been left fragmented and taken by kaiser for you to be able to fix it ever again. you were only seventeen, and yet it felt like you’ve gone through a lifetime of heartbreak. leaving kaiser was both the most divine gift you have ever given yourself, but also the greatest mistake you have ever committed.

you had met him when you were five. round, rosy cheeks from the frosty winter air were covered in fat tears. you had gotten lost, and you couldn’t find you parents. eventually, you reached the neighborhood park. crouching in the wood chips, with grime and bruises littering his body, was a young michael kaiser of the same age.

he had never spoken to anyone his age, let alone a girl. when you shoved yourself down onto the near frozen swing, still sobbing and sniffling like a baby, kaiser didn’t know what to do. in the end, with his broken grammar and rude words, kaiser wanted to comfort you. he want to try to stop you from crying; after all, it reminded him of himself whenever his father beat and choked him. “what the fuck are you crying about? you look disgusting.”

if kaiser knew gentle words, he would have spoken them. if he knew a lullaby, he would have hummed it. if he knew how to comfort someone, he would have done so. but at age five, he didn’t know anything but swear words. after all, those were the only things that he father ever communicated to him in. at his words, you only sobbed harder. “s-shut up!” kaiser exclaimed. however, you quickly stopped crying once the realization hit you: he wasn’t angry at you.

“i-i’m sorry. i just can’t find my mama and dad.” you whimpered. kaiser nodded. you wiped your tears away, teardrops nearly frozen from the cold. kaiser pointed to a large building next to a collection of houses.

“there’s a shitty station there. a useless piece of shit like you should go there.” kaiser muttered, his voice peculiarly calm for someone who is uttering the nastiest of words. you only blinked a few times in confusion at his vulgarity before grinning brightly, your tears having all been wiped away, and thanked him.

at that moment, you both fell in love with the other. it was only supposed to be a stupid childhood crush that would last a month or two; it wasn’t supposed to be serious. it was just supposed to be cute and temporary.

if only that was the case.

after that day, you continued to visit kaiser every day at the park with a bag of bread from the neighborhood bakery. bread made from garlic salt and sugar and buttery, still warm and soft. for years, you never dared to ask why kaiser was always having fresh new wounds painted on his every day. only years later, at thirteen, did he finally tell you about his family life. you wanted to tell the police, but kaiser swore that he would rather die than end up as an orphan.

when he was fifteen, he got arrested. you knew that it wasn’t him; it wasn’t his fault. he would never steal from a jewelry store. you knew he stole, but he didn’t care about superficial riches like jewels and gold. you waited outside of the police department for two whole days without food and sleep, waiting for kaiser to have his name cleared. finally, some soccer scouter managed to bail him out.

that was the day you started dating kaiser.

he began playing for bastard münchen only a week after his release. you stood by his side, always supporting him, and being next to him, always loving him, always making sure that he knew you love him. at first, kaiser was almost the same, although much more rude to his new teammates. but he still remained as soft as he could with you, never raising his voice or a hand with you.

he began to change at sixteen.

he was cold; distant, even. he still loved you, you knew that for a fact. but soccer was always the only thing on his mind. you knew that he was justified; after all, soccer brought him self-satisfaction and love. he felt human if he played soccer, and you could understand why he was so obsessed with soccer. but not to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

kaiser choked himself.

you always knew that he hurt himself, but you always stopped him the moment you caught him, always begging for him to stop, and that he mustn’t do something like that. you begged for him to take therapy sessions, go to a psychiatrist, something, anything. kaiser only shrugged off your concerns and told you that you worried too much. but the moment you caught kaiser’s fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, unable to breathe and saliva escaping from his lips, you knew that he’s gone too far.

you had come up to him, begged him to stop. pulled his fingers away from his throat by force. after an hour of coaxing and coddling, he finally stopped for a week before continuing again. you knew that it wasn’t your problem to deal with, but you still felt so guilty about it.

kaiser told you that he loved you that night.

you dealt with him for another year. he was still so superficially obsessed with soccer; obsessed with crushing and destroying his opponents like the opposing teams on a chessboard. but you couldn’t bear it, he was nothing short of cruel to ness, and he was just like a monster when he was playing against another team. he smiled when someone on the opposing team started crying. he never treated you like that, but you didn’t want to take any chances. you knew that he would treat you just like that soon enough.

that day, you broke it off with him.

you knew that it would hurt you both, you knew that this decision would haunt your days forever. but you couldn’t deal with this anymore. you couldn’t continue to see the boy you loved spiral into insanity, with all of your efforts and begs going to waste. you were too horrified to tell him in person, so you only left a note.

over half of your once shared apartment’s furniture was destroyed that night after kaiser read the note.

he truly went insane. the one person who he ever truly loved, the one person who ever loved him, the only person who comforted him through his shitty childhood, gone and only leaving him a note. he went insane trying to find you; he texted you millions of times, called you and facetimed you thousands of times, but you never responded.

and now, at age twenty, kaiser still never moved on from you.

during matches, his eyes always scan the stands, thinking that maybe you’d come. maybe you got bored, or maybe you wanted to mock him, maybe you wanted him back, or maybe you just wanted to beat the crap out of him after drinking a bit too much. whatever the reason, kaiser just wants to see you happy. he wants to see you laughing. he doesn’t care if you don’t take him back; as long as you’re safe and happy and healthy, then he’ll be fine.

you weren’t fine. college was killing you, and you were still a virgin who never went out to parties. you still silently watched over kaiser; searching up his name often, reading news articles about him, and watching clips and videos of him on youtube. seeing him healthy made you happy, even if he wasn’t constantly in the best emotional state, especially in that strange blue lock facility that he went to when he was nineteen.

january twenty-sixth.

not only was bastard münchen playing against fc barcha today, but it also marked the fifteenth anniversary of when you and kaiser first met when you were both only five. today was the day where you decided that for the first time in three years, you would go see kaiser play. just as a physical to see if he was okay, and for no other reason. no, this because you missed him. no, this wasn’t because you were still in love with him and just wanted to see him again and wanted to know if he still loved you. surely, he wouldn’t even see you. nope, nope, not at all.

at least, that was what you hoped.

you sat in your plastic blue seat of the stadium, waiting to see kaiser again. you weren’t used to this; you were always in vip seats at his game, and this was the first time you weren’t. oh well, it was still watching the same game at the end of the day. plus, vip seating would only make it easier for kaiser to see you.

as kaiser stepped out and onto the plastic green grass, his eyes scanned the crowd once again. this would be the last time he will ever do this; if you’re not even going to be here today, then he’s sure that you’ll truly never attend any of his games. he knows you best and you know him best, after all.

left to middle. no sign of a goddess like beauty anywhere, so you weren’t there. middle section. no sign of an angel anywhere either, so you weren’t there. finally, there was only the right left. please, kaiser begged that you would be there. even if you were on your phone the entire match, kaiser couldn’t care less.

one by one, his eyes drifted through the crowd as he nearly reached the end. his eyes slowly dimmed; were you really not there? was he really never going to see the love of his life again? but then he reached the end, and his eyes widened, glimmering underneath the sunlight. and despite the fact that it was a harsh winter, the warmth and love in his eyes could melt all of the ice and snow outside.

it was you.

your eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment, there was no one else. for a moment, soccer didn’t even matter. it was just you and him. he mouthed your name, your eyes widening a fraction, before you turned red and looked away. kaiser almost laughed out loud before walking away to the center of the stadium, feeling as if he could score fifty goals. you really came; he really got to see you again.

during the match, every damn time kaiser scored a goal, he always made some sort of gesture to you, whether it’d be blowing a kiss to you or waving to you or just staring intently at you, the media went crazy over it—because it was just so obvious that those gestures were meant for you.

after the match, you walked through the stadium as quickly as you could, wanting to leave and not wanting to get bombarded by the media. you completed your task; you came to see if kaiser was okay. and he clearly was perfectly fine, so you had nothing to worry about.

that was until you felt the calloused grasp of a hand on yours.

it’s been three years, but you could recognize that feeling anywhere. the exact same way of lacing your fingers together, the exact same warmth and same feeling. the exact same hand.

mihya’s hand.

you turned around in a flash, tears brimming at your eyes unknowingly. why were you crying? you weren’t supposed to get emotional over seeing him again. not until you saw the tears stinging mihya’s eyes, tears glossing over his eyes like the most expensive and yet beautiful porcelain china.

your mihya.

“mihya…?” you mumbled, your voice the hum of a lullaby. you expected yells if this were to happen, you expected interrogations and questions and threats, you expected blackmail, you even expected to get hit by him.

but none of that came.

only the feeling of another hand tilting your chin up before cerulean eyes glimpsed into yours, looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world.

“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

a/n: YES A HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON REFERENCE EEEEEE

[pandabibble]

what's great is if you do waste... 30 minutes oof of time recreating garbage AI shit you do end up realising a bunch of weird nonsense about AI, like there's a bunch of sort of weird oranges and I think it's tried to make a sliced orange that is heart shaped and some mountains and a weird expressionistic face in the background and the only thing that can be said about the AI doing that is just, it's clearly pulling from soviet stamps for what it's categorised as communist and some of the stamps have like a wheel or a sliced regional fruit on them so that the stamps could sort of promote and boast about how well their fruit or wheel production, plus pictures of mountains because russia has cool mountains plus communist statues would often adopt abstractions of faces and the human form to de-individualise memorial statues - and now notice how to describe the AI's art I've had to spend more time talking about the intent and meaning behind the human art it's pulling from than the AI itself, because if a person had done it we could talk about what spattering those things around might mean, or we could look into what the artist said or talked about and come away with "the author hated oranges and they wanted to convey their dislike for communism, and the mountains represent the siberian steppes where the gulags were, and that's actually the ghostly image of che guvara who died fighting guerilla wars in south american mountain regions", but it's just "guess the machine was fed some stamps" instead.

meanwhile what can I say about my parody of it? the orange slices without transparent backgrounds mock the incoherency of the weird things the AI scattered around. the literally haphazard blurring of the words to emulate that way AI render language blurry and indistinct, a corporate management level of hestitancy even as its being told to be declarative. the melting nazi speaks for itself. the way I had to slice angular chunks out of churchill's shoulders to emulate the AI, but which also sped up the cropping process and aren't as noticeable as they should be because the human eye really doesn't care that much. Or how when looking for pictures of churchill the pictures that made his jowls sag like the AI's version has were from after his severe stroke caused him to lose control of a lot of his facial muscles, but the sort of toxic wellness and masculinity cult of most AI users fear aging and the human physical process so much that it still makes churchill's hair a lot darker than it was long before that stroke, because its users are most anxious about their hair's natural progression as they age

Even within the machine slop the only thing interesting is the human aspects it's pulling from, which mold it, the anxieties of its users that it mirrors and regurgitates in a way that its users don't realise and if they did would terrify them.

obviously not an exercise I would recommend people waste their time on in general, but fun to do once.

Only the lowest IQs support communism. That's why the insist idiots are just as good as geniuses. They are idiots who believe no one is better than them.