#id take any chance to show them off again

[iispancakes]

I saw this tweet and though hmm lemme see what I was up to and we'll...

Now I think I've posted this before but I can't remember if I added context. My partner and I had watched a film adaptation of the book "a mouse and a motorcycle" so I drew him, ranboo, and tommyinnit. The prompt (from my partner) was, and I quote, "drawing of twitch ranboo tv with Ralph the rat with YouTube's tommyinnit pogging like woah. But ranboos small and tommy is normal size." This then became a series. We saw a trailer for a game called "sack of flour, heart of gold" and thought that's funny it sounds kinda similar so theyre dating. So of course I had to draw it.

"OH NO WHYS HE IN THE HOSPITAL HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?! Also why are all the hospital staff fruit?" I hear you we're getting there. Also idk about the fruit I kinda realized I couldn't make them people cause they're small so. Also at this point Mouse's names changed to Ralph.

[I had to learn how to draw a dirt bike for this and I never posted it to insta even though the original got 60 likes (which is pretty high for me) idk why I didn't share the rest. Anyway I drew the said motorcycle 5 COUNT EM 5 times. I've never drawn mechanical stuff before this was a first for me.]

They're at a stunt show and sack of flour decides to do an impossible jump only a few have attempted. Ricky begs him not to. He's already won the competition! But sack of flour has to, for honor. BUT sack of flour falls from his bike mid triple flip and crash lands. he's terribly injured. Ricky's runs to his one true love to dig him from the rubble. Ralph doesn't know what he'll do with our him if he doesn't make it. Sack of flour speaks his first words to comfort him. (I didn't even think about it at the time but the fact he muffles earlier in the comic and can only speak after his sack is ripped insinuates that sack of flour is actually just flour and the sack is restraining him???)

And that's how he got hospitalized! But how did these two lovers meet?

Well "(He) met him at the candy stoooree" leaning up against the counter in his ripped leather jacket. he really was the leader of the pack.

Okay, well, did sack of flour live? Did he recover?!?!

I'll let you decide dear viewer.

Prompt for the last one, is again from my partner, "at bar Ricky the rat drinking a lot. Mug dog is bartender, imposter is at bar, so is Walter White. All* enjoy mug root beer."

*only imposter from among us and mug dog are enjoying the mug root beer. Walter White doesn't enjoy anything and Ricky has become a depressed alcoholic.

Thank you to anyone who's read this! I hope it brings you as much joy as it does me.

[scoops-aboy86]

Music teacher Eddie and student Steve.

Like, someone told Steve that marching band is easy credits, and he’s athletic. His parents made him take piano and clarinet lessons as a kid. Clarinet is a pretty easy instrument to march with; not too heavy, doesn’t have to hold it at a crazy straight angle like flutes or most of the brass instruments. He’s not a great musician or anything, but it doesn’t hurt his feelings if he ends up with 3rd or 4th part. The halftime shows are fun and he was never really into playing football so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything; this way, he still gets to watch the games. Sure, the trade off is having to sit in stupid concert band for the second half of the year, but only half; any other elective would be for the full haul. And it definitely doesn’t hurt that the new band director his senior year, Mr. Munson, is the youngest teacher on staff and brimming with infectious energy. The kind of guy you can tell used to be stick thin before his teenage metabolism kicked the bucket, and now he’s got kind of a belly and a sweet tooth that everyone knows about. A lot of the band girls have a huge crush on him, so he gets a lot of apples and also a lot of baked goods left on his desk, and he lets students call him by his first name, and he’s always down to soak up flattery—with a grain of salt. Steve has never once seen him flirt back; his best friend, Robin in the trumpet section, can confirm.

It’s not until accompanying Robin on her first venture into the gay bar in the next or two town over (with fake IDs, obviously) that Steve figures out why. Robin is absorbed in talking to a pretty redhead, and Steve has just bought himself a beer when someone bumps into him hard enough that he drops it.

“Shit, sorry about that!” says Mr. Munson. And usually, at school, he sticks to black slacks and plain shirts, but here? Form-fitting jeans that are more rip than black denim and well-worn band shirts that were probably bigger on him years ago, but now are on the tighter side. Hair loose instead of tied back, and he’s wearing eyeliner.

Steve, who can’t stop staring, has never really seen what all the girls do in the guy before, but now he gets it. And so can Mr. Munson. Eddie.

The double take when he recognizes Steve as a student is pretty priceless, and Steve can’t help messing with him, smirking a little while saying, “So this is what you’re doing instead of grading our music theory tests.”

And, well. Steve is eighteen. Eddie is in his early twenties. What’s the big deal if he asks a hot older man to dance instead of taking him up on that replacement beer? It’s not like it’ll be for more than once dance. Not like the crowded dance floor jostles them closer together, Eddie flailing a little as he stumbles forward and Steve catches him, faces close and accidentally brushing. Not like they’ll kiss for real a few electric-charged seconds later, or end up in a more out of the way corner making out. And no way would that turn into Eddie turning into a flustered mess any time he makes eye contact with Steve at school, or a series of serupticiously passed notes, or Steve making sure they “accidentally” run into each other more often off campus.

Under no circumstances will they kiss again, or get carried away making out against a dark wall somewhere and both need a change of pants, or go on a tentative date where Eddie doesn’t let Steve do any underage drinking but does let him drive Eddie home and come inside for a coffee. Absolutely zero chance of falling into bed together and each of them confessing to real feelings that only Robin (who constantly makes cradle robbing jokes but is so supportive of Steve that he’d kiss her if it wouldn’t gross both of them out, it’d be like kissing a sibling) knows about until after graduation.

… Right?

Permanent tag list:

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls

[djpachipikachu]

doodle dump of unreleased aus that r still actively in my Brain Often but i dont post shit about them

⚠️warning for old art and blood and injury drawn and death mentions⚠️

———

magic lily au:

main theme -

summary is that leo is transported to the samurai rabbit universe instead of his family’s arms through a trifecta of his ninpo, mikey’s mystics that begged for him to be safe, and the ki stone sensing a hero in need

when leo lands in the world, he doesnt know any japanese aside from simple phrases he grew up with; “thank you”, “please”, “excuse me”, “help me”, “i love you”, etc

him and yuichi fall in love and he remains there for a few years ! however . theyve all known since the beginning that the ki stone would take leo back once he was healed. she was clear on the fact he was only there to be helped , not to live there . so yuichi and leo hold off the inevitable, despite leo missing his family horribly and knowinf they think hes dead , despite knowing how selfish it was to have one more day with each other , they avoided the ki stone until they go to the temple together and leo is ripped from the world without even a chance to reallt say goodbye to everyone

uhhh etc etc they were their first and last loves as they were both on the aro spec and didnt have a need to find that kinda love again they just . wanted each other and blehhh

i have a playlist for it as well ! my oldest au , started since i got into the fandom

UUAU:

[temp name]

my original usagi/tmnt iteration with miyamoto usagi as the main protag ! i still want to create a comic and really officially send this out so i wont spoil a lot, but !

the basis is that usagi lives in a post apocolyptic solarpunk society and is forcibly sent back in time to a cyberpunk city where the seeds of a war have begun to sprout, dropped in the middle of the highest tensions between three turtles and their eldest brother who is on the enemy side

doomed siblings, doomed toxic yaoi, doomed Everything, its inspired by idw and 2003 so what else is there to expect

only showing the beta design for usagi ! i have a lot of other drawings for this but again, spoilers

historical graves au:

this one is the most recent of the bunch, just putting my version of yuichi for rise into a more usagi yojimbo styled setting ! the story is entirely different from the fanfic and im still working on it But

yuichi is the great grandchild of miyamoto usagi instead of a distant ancestor , so the debt of the shogun’s assassination is that much heavier and Far more dangerous to hold. yuichi and his adoptive little sister, hana, have recently escaped the mass murder and pillaging of their rabbit village (the same one that mariko and kenichi and usagi grew up in) and are on a journey to find their aunt for sanctuary

along the way, they run into a lot of familiar faces, such as the hamato clan , who has karai as their jōnin ! also yuichi gets possessed by jei at some point

hes trans too so he “disguises” himself as a boy to be more hidden as they travel

ive got one more original iteration but theres like . nothing i want to share from it rn lmao

SOOO THATS IT basicallt !!umm if anyone wants to know more about any of these aus id be happy to answer ! u can request doodles of them too !

if u read this far ily and im kissing you

[oik-tooru]

KEY CHANGE — s. koushi

CHAPTER 3 - CHANCE MEETING

a/n this chapter has a written section so please be sure to read that part !!

m.list

“i’ll meet you guys inside. my professor’s calling me.”

“you sure y/n?” keiji paused at the door. “i can stay with you.”

i shook my head and waved him off. “no keiji it’s okay, i’ll be fine! i’m right out here anyways.”

keiji gave me one last look before following kenma and kei inside the cafe, leaving me out in the warm june heat. i glanced at the caller ID and sighed, mentally preparing myself for the conversation i’ve tried to avoid for the past two weeks.

“hi prof—”

“y/n! finally you answered!” i winced slightly at the passive tone in my professor’s voice, but quickly shook it off and plastered my very best fake smile.

“yes, i’m so sorry i’ve been really busy—”

“with your exhibit piece, i hope?” i winced again.

“um…yeah it’s coming together. slowly but surely.” i ran a hand across my face, already drained. i heard the soft sound of my professor going tsk on the other line and the dread in my stomach intensified further.

“well you know the exhibition is in 3 weeks right? if i don’t receive any progress from you by then, unfortunately i’m going to have to cut you out.”

“i understand professor. i’ll have something for you by then, i promise.”

my professor sighed, his tone softening. i knew he did it to try and make me feel better but it did the exact opposite.

“you’re insanely talented, y/n. don’t waste it.” the soft click signalled that he had hung up, and i felt every muscle in my body finally relax.

leaning against the glass window, i held my head in my hands and sighed. the evening sun started beating down my back but i could hardly feel the sting due to the sickening feeling in my stomach.

i wanted to throw up. i wanted to pass out and throw up so bad—

“hey, are you alright?”

my head whipped up, startled by the unfamiliar voice. a figure stood in front of with one hand held out in the air, hanging awkwardly. my vision was still kind of blurry so it took a second for me to make out them out. slowly, their features began to clear.

tall. gray hair. pale skin. brown eyes. guitar in his hand. really pretty brown eyes—

you paused. you recognized this person.

and that’s when it hit you.

sugawara koushi. the sugawara koushi was standing in front of you, hand still awkwardly hanging the air but now with a deep blush on his face.

“hello? a-are you okay?” he asked again, taking a step forward. the small movement shook you out of your stupor and you straightened out.

“uh, yes! sorry, i didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

sugawara smiled gently and you felt that warmth again, but it wasn’t from the sun this time.

“no worries. i just wanted to make sure you were okay. you looked kinda stressed.”

“no yeah, i’m fine. thank you though.”

a beat of silence passed between the two of us, and i awkwardly shifted my feet around, lost on what to say. thankfully sugawara was a much better conversationalist than i was, but his next question still caught me off guard.

“you were here last week too, right? you had asked for our autographs?”

i raised my eyebrow, shocked that he managed to remember who i was. “you..remember me?”

“yeah!” he beamed. “i mean, it’s kind of hard to forget your face.”

my face warmed up even more (if that was even possible) and i sent him a small smile, trying desperately not to show how much his comment affected me.

“i’m sugawara by the way,” he held his hand out. “but i’m pretty sure you already knew that.”

i laughed, taking his hand in my own and giving it a firm shake. “i’m y/n, and yes i very much know who you are.”

i ignored the weird feeling in my stomach the moment he pulled his hand away. if he noticed the way my fingers slightly caught on his own for a second, he didn’t mention it.

“but i do have to be honest with you,” i said. “i didn’t really know much about you or your band until a few days ago.”

sugawara looked at me, confusion written all over his face. “but i thought—”

“the autograph was actually for my best friend,” i explained sheepishly. “he was too nervous to ask on his own, so i asked for him.”

“oh really? is he here with you?”

i nodded, jutting my thumb over my shoulder. “yeah, he’s inside with my other two friends. we actually came to watch your band play. i’ve been listening to a lot of your music and i really enjoy it. i’m excited to hear your new songs too!”

at this sugawara’s smile grew even wider and he walked over to the cafe door, holding it open.

“well in that case, you and your friends should sit in the front. i wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”

taglist

@wyrcan @twiishaa @elixrr @le000xxgrd @yuminako @sy1v30n @phoenix-eclipses @guitarstringed-scars @crownj1min @yukii-1 @walllflowerrrsss @iknowleeknowlikescats @cryptictheseus @mimi3lover @yomi2k @meeeepsworld @chemiru @mfcherry @yeehawgiddyup13 @kitnootkat @cloberrii @iluvaquaphor @kunimix @juie13 @msameikanevaeh @sunflowertroupe @icantcryicantstopcrying @shinsukeee @chizunata @citrustsuki @chloiyoomi @hanachiiii @gra-eae

[gisellaaa]

we rush back to each other; in our hearts it was real.

af11 | after adam comes to michigan for a small visit, he makes talking to you hard to avoid.

(a/n this is a part two. part one can be found here)

Adam was so grateful to get the chance to do an honorary puck drop at a Michigan game. He was excited to see his old teammates play again and be around the campus. Yet, only one priority clouded his mind.

You.

You knew Adam would be back in Ann Arbor. Fuck, you even felt his presence, even if he was staying with his brother. The thought made you sick to your stomach in embarrassment.

Adam didn't even attempt to reach out after your pathetic attempt to show him you missed him. It was so embarrassing to you. You spent three nights crying in your room, sobbing to the point you were dry heaving.

This really proved you two were done, for good.

You were wasting away your day, rotting in your dorm room. It was freezing cold too, you wanted to feel the coldness as a way of suffering.

A constant vibrating came from your phone. Which, in your mind, was strange. Considering the fact your phone had sat on DND for the past week.

The call was sent through again and you finally reached over to grasp the device. The caller ID belonged to no other than Luca Fantilli. You let a slew of curse words fall from your lips, answering the phone.

"Hi, Y/N! Whatcha doin'?" Luca's excited voice rang into the speaker, practically causing you lose your hearing. "Rotting in bed, why?" You grumbled, flipping over to switch on your lamp.

You heard the sound of whispering in the background. You knew it was Adam.

"I have those Bio notes! I'll drop them outside your door." Luca informed, causing you to roll your eyes. "I don't want them, I told you that," You complained, a cough coming from your throat.

"Too bad! I'll knock and leave. You won't even have to see me!" Luca spoke, yet, you knew he wasn't being truthful. Luca loved to bother people, well, not necessarily bother. He just loved to talk and talk.

"Right, okay. Got it," You replied, not convinced by his story, hanging up the phone. You slumped back into your bed, running your hands down you face. “Fuck.”

After about thirty minutes, you heard the incessant knocking on the door. You didn’t bother to get up, considering Luca said he’d drop off the “bio notes.” After a few minutes, the knocking started again.

With a groan, you climbed out of your bed. Your feet touched the cold ground, causing a shiver to shake your body. Not bothering to look in the peep hole, you pulled the door open.

Except, it wasn’t Luca standing outside of the door. Not this time. This time it was Adam, not holding any stack of papers. Out of instinct, you shut the door back in his face.

Your heart twisted, pounding rapidly against your chest. It took him a week to reach out after you sent what could possibly be the most embarrassing video in your life.

“Open the door, please.” Adam’s voice spoke from across the door. Your hand was placed on the door handle, hesitant to pull it open. Without much thinking, you opened the door once more.

“Hi, Adam.” You spoke, eyes looked on him.

Adam ran a hand through his hair, his eyes examining your body. You looked much more frail since the last time he’d seen you. Your eyebags were deep and purple, your face sunken in.

“Can we talk?”

You looked back down at your feet, lips pursed together. You lifted your shoulders, shrugging at the boy. “What is there to talk about?” You asked.

“Let me come in,” Adam pressed. He wanted to just grab you and keep you with him all the time. Before he watched your video, Adam swore he was better off without you. But now? Adam didn’t want to do anything if you weren’t by his side.

You sighed, taking a step back from the door, beckoning Adam inside. Adam slipped off his shoes, shrugging off his coat. Your eyes attentively watched him, swallowing harshly.

Adam still looked like the same old boy who let you walk out of his life. He looked healthy, had great vibe radiating off of him. It made you sick to think that while you’ve been crying in your room, he’s probably perfectly fine.

“What do you want to talk about?” You spoke, your voice cracking as the words got stuck in your throat.

“Do you still love me?” Adam asked, keeping at least an arm’s length distance between the two of you. “Well, of course-“ Your words cut off by him.

“Why haven’t you ever said anything?” His voice seems to have been laced with anger, which caused you to feel much too small in his presence. He spoke to you like you were being scolded.

“Because you seem fine without me. There was no reason-“

“Except there is. Because I miss you, so fucking much. And then here you go, making a small little video that has been stuck on my mind since I’ve seen it. Why did you have to do that? Why did it have to be that way?” Adam pressed, his face screwed up in confusion.

“Because I was never going to tell you. Then Luca asked me to be in the video, then your mom even asked me to do it as well. I couldn’t just say no.” You explained, your fingers rubbing at your eyes to try to prevent the tears from starting to spill. You had to be strong.

“Why did it have to be a secret?” Adam’s voice cracked ever so slightly, causing your body to fill up with rage. How dare he get to be upset when he was the one who planned to leave you? He was the one who left you cold and alone in Michigan.

“Adam! You don’t get to be upset about this! You don’t! You are the one who planned to leave! You had this figment in your fucking imagination that somehow we wouldn’t work. But fucking look at me! Do I look healthy? Do I look better now that you are gone? I don’t!” You shook your head, a scoff pausing your words. “And for me to stand here, still fighting for some relationship that didn’t mean anything to you? Gosh, it’s pathetic.” You groaned.

“Adam I think you need to go,” You were able to muster out, gently pushing him towards the door. Your hands were pressed against his chest has you attempted to push him out. “No, no, I’m staying,” Adam wrapped his hands over your wrists, holding his ground.

“Adam, go,” You stated once more, give another attempt to push him out. “No.” Adam deadpanned, his heart aching as he looked down at you. “Why can’t you let me move on!” You cried, falling against his chest, the tears finally stinging your eyes as they fell down your chest.

Adam caught you as you fell forward, his arms wrapping around your shaking body. His hand was pressed to the back of your head, holding you as you sobbed into his chest. “Because maybe we weren’t meant to move on from each other,” Adam quietly spoke, a sad frown appearing on his face.

“Don’t say that,” You managed to choke out.

“I mean it. We aren’t meant to move on, we were meant to be together. I made the horrible mistake to let you go, to push you away from me. But, I’ve missed you every single day. I’ve regretted it since,” Adam explained himself, listening as your crying slowed. He could tell your breathing calmed down, your heart beating at a steady rate. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m just asking to give me another chance,” Adam added to her previous statement.

You took a step back, looking at him through your foggy eyes. At any moment, it looked like he would get down on his knees and beg. You racked your brain for any sort of direction on how to move forward. You love Adam, that has never changed. You missed him every day, hoping that he’d do exactly what he was doing now.

How could you let yourself miss the opportunity?

“Adam, how could we even work it out? Maybe you were right along, that the distance would be too much.” You sighed, wiping some of the tears from under your eyes. “Would it be any worse than how it is now? We can figure it out, Y/N.” Adam pleaded, taking a step towards you.

You looked down, chewing on your bottom lip. He had a point. Dealing with the short distance would be nothing compared to the literal lack of Adam you’ve been dealing with. Nothing can compare to the hurt and pain you’ve pushed yourself into.

“Okay,” You mumbled, trying to find words to speak. “We can try again. But I swear Adam, if at any point it becomes too much, we have to - we have to talk.” You sternly spoke, looking back up at him.

“Yes, yes. We will talk, we will work it out. I promise, I will make sure of it,” Adam nodded, his eyes turning a small bit brighter than usual. You give him a small smile, connecting the small bit of distance between the both of you with a tight hug. Adam quickly pulled you into his grasp, holding you like you’d fall into the ground if he let go.

“I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed you more than anything,” Adam spoke into your hair, placing a quick peck to the top of your head. “I’ve missed you too, you big sap,” You had a joking tone to your voice.

“Can we prank Luca before we tell him we worked things out?” You spoke, looking up at Adam with a mischievous expression. Adam raised his eyebrows, nodding quickly. “Hell yeah, but first-“ Adam paused, looking around the room, almost like he was suddenly nervous again.

“What?” You curiously asked, furrowing your brows as you looked at him. Adam shrugged, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. He leaned in, his lips pressing compassionately to your lips. You gripped onto his biceps, quickly melting into his embrace.

Adam pulled away, his cheeks a light tint of red. “Alright, now time to mess with Luca.”

[silver-tongued-bby]

The Fall - Chapter I

Pairing: Manipulative!Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader

This work is set in an AU.

Words: ~2,400

Summary: A chance encounter at the grocery store has you second guessing yourself and well, everything else.

This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of rough sex, manipulation, sadism, Loki who likes to see you cry, a dom/sub dynamic, a broken reader with family issues, cigarette smoking. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.

~~~

It really was a bad fucking day. 

The exaggeratedly bad type of day that was reserved for shitty romcoms or late-night comedies, the ones that made your stomach curl. Everything that could go wrong did. 

And so here you were, feeling sorry for yourself as you vacantly stared at the neatly stacked ice cream containers behind the glass. You rubbed your eyes and caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection, flinching with a start. 

It took you a moment to recognise her - that girl. The one that showed up when you were at your lowest. That girl that looked so much like you, but without the mask. The mask that made you a functioning member of society, that got you jobs, friends, and dates. You looked at this girl, the one with tears in her eyes wrapped in a men’s coat four sizes too big for her and wondered when exactly she’d come into existence. It seemed she’d always been there, growing as her parents did their very best to do their absolute worst. 

You blinked again, sighing at your reflection before turning around, vacant stare now aimed at the boxes of crackers behind you. You weren’t hungry - not really. Your feet had just carried you to your car, so you drove yourself here, as if a 1AM visit to the grocery store would fix things. 

Blinking away the fresh tears, you grabbed a box of Cheez-Its off the shelf and turned, your bleary eyes meeting those of the stranger at the end of the aisle. 

Something in his stare stopped you, pinned you in place. His expression was neutral, but something in that blue-green told you to turn around and run, though your clever feet had seemingly retired for the evening. 

You could tell he was handsome, though you didn’t lift your gaze from his. You felt as if he’d somehow stripped you bare, easily seeing all you desperately tried to hide. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though you hadn’t the slightest idea of what to say. His eyes flickered down to the box in your hand before snapping back to your own and a second later he carried on, walking past the aisle to the next.

You stood there on uneasy legs, a frown tugging at your features. What the fuck was that? 

You shivered, your heart racing, the frown deepening when you felt heat pooling between your legs. You looked to the box of Cheez-Its, then back to where he stood. No, really. What the fuck was that?

You weren’t one to make eye contact in public, especially not when you were alone, learning young of the attention it brought. But something in the way he’d looked at you made you want it - want him to look at you again. 

You stopped yourself from following him, shaking your head as you walked to the front of the store. It was 1AM and you were alone in a deserted grocery store. What the hell are you doing? 

Your eyes cleared a little as you made your way to the checkout counter, the stranger filling your thoughts. The only clerk working was a teenage boy, who rung up your box and gave you your total in a monotone drawl. You asked for a pack of cigarettes as well, thumbing the lighter in your pocket. 

“ID?” He asked, blinking slowly at you. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled, feeling around in your pockets for your wallet. You’d left the house with a $20 bill crumpled in the top pocket of the giant fishing coat you donned. “I don’t have it on me.” 

He shrugged, looking back at you. “Manager’s really up my ass lately. Can’t give them to you without ID. Sorry,” he shrugged again, taking the crumpled bill from you as the register opened.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did your very best not to cry in front of this poor kid. Taking the box and pocketing the change, you walked out through the sliding doors and into the night. 

Making it to your car, you pulled the keys from your pocket, the box in your other hand. You swore as the keychain slipped from your fingers, skidding against the pavement and under the only other car in the lot- parked just a spot away. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, debating on whether or not to just leave them and walk home. Sighing, you got on your hands and knees, spotting the mass of keys right between the tires. You tried to reach but felt nothing, the gravel stinging against your kneecaps. You found the tears started to fall again, the day catching back up with you. 

You sniffed, reaching under the car again, the keys still just out of your grasp. You sat up on your knees, shivering as you thought of what to do. You must’ve sat there for a solid minute or two, your knees aching as you wiped tear after tear from your heated skin. 

“Here.” You jumped at the sound of a man’s voice, looking up to see him standing above you, your keyring hooked on his finger. He wore the same expression as before, though his eyes looked darker in the low light. 

“Oh,” you sniffed again and stood, taking the keyring from him. You brushed some of the gravel off your knees, wiping another tear away with the back of your hand. “Sorry.” 

You turned to leave, embarrassed, when you felt his hand against your shoulder. You looked to him, your breath catching once more as he looked down at you, his stare more intense than before. 

“Your biscuits,” he said, the little smirk curling at the corner of his lip making you feel better and worse at the same time. You looked down, seeing the box at your feet. He withdrew his hand as you bent to pick it up. 

“Right,” you mumbled. 

“You want one?” He asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. 

You looked at his outstretched hand, the long fingers steady. Looking back to his face, the little smirk was gone. You reached out with a shaky hand, sliding a cigarette from the pack. He put one between his lips and swiftly lit it, holding out his lighter to you. 

“Thank you,” you lit the cigarette then handed him back his lighter. He took it, fingers brushing yours, though his eyes were trained on the highway across the street. You stood beside him in silence, the sound of a passing car filling the air every few seconds. 

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He’d turned to look at you as he’d said it, though you kept your eyes trained on the highway. 

“T-thanks,” you sniffed, glancing up at him, heart racing as he looked down at you with that intensity again. You swallowed. 

He held your gaze as he reached up, the tips of his fingers lightly touching your jaw as his thumb brushed away a tear. His eyes fell to your lips as you wet them, you could feel they were puffy as a result of your crying. Before your brain could catch up with his movements he’d withdrawn, pulling the cigarette from his lips to extinguish it beneath a boot. 

“I’m not always like this,” you said, his gaze lifting to meet yours. 

He quirked an eyebrow as he studied your face. 

You shifted on your feet. “I’m usually better- normal.”

He smirked, turning to open his car door. “Of course you are.” He slid inside, turning on the engine before pulling out of the empty lot, the vehicle’s acceleration loud once it hit the highway. 

You stared off in the direction he’d gone, wondering if that had really just happened. A shiver tore through you as you remembered the feel of his touch against your skin. 

You should have been outraged, or at the very least disturbed at the intimacy of the action, but all you could think of was how desperately you wanted it to happen again. 

You took one last drag off your cigarette and ducked into your front seat, peeling off the other way. 

~~~

Looking in the mirror, you adjusted your skirt before leaning forward to swipe a thumb at your eyeliner. Leaning backwards you but your lip, sticky with gloss as your heart hammered in your chest. 

You looked at your phone to check the time, letting out a shaky breath as you made for the door. 

The drive was quick, one you’d become familiar with over the past week as you visited in the dead of night. Your sick little ritual performed in the hopes of seeing him again. Pulling up to the lot, your heart leapt to your throat when you saw his car, the black expensive one, parked neatly near the front of the darkened deserted pavement. 

You parked a row back, locking your door as you walked quickly to the entrance. You shivered as the blast of air conditioning met your skin, eliciting goosebumps over your exposed arms. You bit your lip, deciding to take the long walk to the back aisle of the store. 

You stepped slowly, shoes clicking off the scuffed linoleum as you kept your gaze forward, using your peripherals to see within the aisles. You couldn’t help the little gasp that slipped from your lips when you caught sight of his lithe, dark figure. You could feel his gaze on you as you passed by, continuing on without a glance in his direction until you made it to the laundry detergent in the next aisle. Picking up a small jug, you made your way to the cash, paying for your purchase along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

You leant against your car, lighting up a cigarette. Taking one nervous drag after another, you finished it and pulled the carton back out, slipping a fresh one from the pack. Your eyes drifted to the sliding doors as they opened. 

You lit it up, watching him walk to his car. He glanced at you casually, opening his trunk for the bag in his hand. 

You bit your lip, pushing yourself off the cool metal before making your way to him. “Hey,” you called out, walking closer. 

He looked at you, that same gaze stripping you bare once more, making your fingers tremble around the cigarette. 

“I-I was here the other night,” you came closer, your heart pounding as you took in his handsome features. He was at least twice your age. “I wanted to say thanks,” you offered him a cigarette. “I was having a rough night.” 

He glanced at your hand before taking it from you. “I remember.” 

You nodded as he lit it up, taking a drag. 

“Is there something you want?” 

You opened your mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say. What did you want from him?

There was that stare again. “How many times did you come to the grocery store at 1 in the morning this week?” 

Your eyes widened. 

He took a step closer. “The clerk inside told me you’d been by every night. Is that right?”

You found yourself nodding, the rest of you frozen in place. 

“And what were you looking for?” 

You swallowed. 

He waited. 

“You,” you called out, the small sound of your own voice surprising you. 

“And what is it that you want from me?”

“I don’t know,” it was a whimper - barely audible over the sound of a passing car. 

He didn’t say a word, simply pulling a phone from his back pocket. He handed it to you, opened to the new contact creator. 

You took it in your shaky hands, typing out your name and number before passing it back to him, his fingertips grazing yours. 

He put the phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t be hanging around here this late,” he put out his cigarette. “It isn’t safe.” 

You nodded. 

He slid into the drivers seat and pulled off, leaving you speechless and alone once again. 

~~~

It was a week before he texted you.

The first two days any notification you got made you scramble for your phone, heart pounding, only to be disappointed yet again. 

On the third day you started to lose hope, and wondered if you should go back to the grocery store. He’d told you not to - but what if that only meant he’d actually wanted you to? What if it was all a test? 

After sitting in your car in the driveway for an hour you decided to go to bed with a huff, only to do the exact same thing the night after. 

On the fifth day you did your best to push him from your mind - to stop the image of his face from popping up each time you closed your eyes. It didn’t work, so you spent the night awake, watching horror movies as you attempted to force him from your thoughts with blood and gore. 

The sixth day you drove past the grocery store at 1:03 AM, not seeing his car there as your heart sank in your chest. 

Then the seventh day came. And at eight o’clock on a Sunday you got a text, prompting you to lazily reach for your phone. You sat up straight when you saw the unknown number. 

Have you figured it out yet?

Figured out what? You responded in seconds, cursing yourself for not playing it cool. 

What you want from me.

Your heart raced as you reread the words, trying to think up a witty response. Only one thing echoed in your thoughts, and you found yourself typing it out, and staring at the words. 

I want you to pay attention to me. 

Before you could overthink it you hit send and closed your phone, throwing it to the other end of the couch. The soft ping made you reach for it, your heart in your throat. 

What are you willing to do for my attention? 

You swallowed, staring at the words. A normal person wouldn’t respond, recognising that statement for what it was. A red flag. A huge one at that. You knew what he was asking for, and yet you typed out a response, quickly hitting send. 

Anything. 

You watched the three dots at the bottom of the screen. 

Let’s get dinner.

~~~

To be continued...

~~~

Author's Note: Ok ok ok so this is very loosely based off of this one-off interaction I had at a grocery store (years ago), as well as a somewhat popular account on here that I am both fascinated and disgusted with at the same time. Reader is in for a sketchy time...

Thank you so much for checking out my latest work. A new chapter of Tear You Apart is coming soon.

And thank you to all of my followers for your continued support during my hiatus 🖤

As usual, likes, reblogs, and comments are always immensely appreciated. 🖤 🖤

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Sorry if this is a weird question - a friend of mine just found out she has a spider ball python (he was sold to her as another morph, but when she showed me a picture, I pointed out he looked like a spider and she ended up going 'oh crap you're right'), but he doesn't appear to have any wobble or other common spider traits. I know it can show up less in some snakes than others, but is this something he might deal with more as he ages? Is there a way she can prep for that to give him the best possible care if issues do arise?

Was he sold to her as a pinstripe, by any chance? Pinstripes look a lot like spiders but they're a completely ethical, unrelated morph. To ID a snake as a pinstripe, look for an even, non-splotchy headstamp, long lines down the body, and a gentle taper into lighter belly coloration.

Compare that to a similar morph, spinner, that actually does have spider in it. The spider has a splotchy headstamp, short lines of patterning, and splotchy light belly coloration up the sides:

If he actually is a spider, there is indeed every chance that a wobble can wax and wane throughout his life. It may not be a big issue for him, but it could pop up at any time, and it could progressively worsen or periodically get better and come back again. Here's hoping that he's one of the lucky ones who almost never suffer because of it!

A lot of the spiders I've owned (all rescues, of course) had severe wobbles, so her snake hopefully will not need this level of accomodation, but here's what I recommend to prepare for, just in case:

Teach him to eat his food by taking it off the ground instead of tongs. Feeding time is often the most frustrating time for spiders, as the wobble worsens when they're excited, causing them to miss their food. Gradually keep lowering his food closer to the ground until he expects it to be on the ground - it's easier for them to aim and find food that's sitting still on the ground in front of them.

Think about how to modify the enclosure to help him stay comfortable and navigate with confidence. Shorter, thicker climbing branches are easier for spiders to hold onto.

Have a plan to make the substrate softer to avoid any bumps and scrapes if he becomes clumsy. Mixing sphagnum moss into the substrate is my go-to.

Think about shallow water dishes that he can easily get out of.

With some spidrers, I've had issues with them scraping their faces along parts of enclosures, especially screen lids and vent slats. Gluing cardboard over the trouble spots seemed to help - just don't use tape inside a snake enclosure because it can get stuck to and damage scales.

Hopefully, he will have a long, healthy, happy life with as minimal a wobble as possible! With any snake in the spider complex, though, it's important to keep track of symptoms if and when they pop up. If he does start presenting with a wobble later in life, I recommend keeping a journal of his quality of life so you can identify specific areas of frustration for him.

[htchnr]

01 ★ heartless love crime ❥ ch: his and his alone.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

CW ➥ rough sex ⋆ Aaron uses you for your body ⋆ Hotch is not nice!! ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ heavy use of whore at one point ⋆ possessive sex ⋆ ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 2,8k. SONG ➥ look back , diplo.

CHAPTER SUMMARY ➥ It'd been a long week on its own. He hadn't called you. Every day, your leg bounced anxiously, your eyes flicking over to the phone you kept near you. You couldn't handle the wait. He always made you wait. It was never when you wanted it, only if he felt like it. You were just a toy for him. And yet, you still had a strong attachment to him.

AUTHORS NOTE ➥ hi 😁 this is not a nice series! i want to make that clear!! Hotch is toxic, rude and awful in this. (yet so hot at the same time uhg)

on another note, i have no clue how frequently i'll update this story 😅 i'll try my absolute best though! the next chapter is already almost finished 🤭

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

➻❥ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. ➻❥ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

A cold winter had set in. Days were shorter, the sun barely shone through dismal clouds. Your mood shifted to the worst in the past month. Work became less bearable and you loathed roaming the streets in the dark when it was just six pm.

It'd been a long week on its own. He hadn't called you. Every day, your leg bounced anxiously, your eyes flicking over to the phone you kept near you. You couldn't handle the wait. He always made you wait. It was never when you wanted it, only if he felt like it.

You were just a toy for him.

And yet, you still had a strong attachment to him.

No one made you feel the way he made you feel. Since the first time you met him at the bar, since he charmed his way into your apartment, into your pants, you couldn't get him out of your mind. You gave him your number after the sex that day, hastily scrawling the numbers onto a scrap of paper from your nightstand as he jumped into his slacks, buttoning them with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

While you stood naked before him, holding the paper out, under his nonchalant gaze as he contemplated taking it, you wanted so desperately for him to take it. You'd gnawed at your lip, which he watched with mild interest before he took the paper impassively, telling you he'll probably call you and he was out the door.

Only for him to call you the next day. For him to call you each day, show up at your apartment leaned against the doorframe with sunglasses on and a cigarette hanging between slightly parted lips, unlit. For him to leave you a sobbing mess in bed and sore all over, just to see you again the next day.

For him to take you to a high you'd never experienced before, taking away all other senses and just overflowing your mind and body with him. His teeth. His lips. His dick. His filthy words in your ears that broke your heart while simultaneously leaving you spasming on him.

He made you his, and you let him.

So, the one day you decided to let yourself have fun, to join your friends after having not seen them in weeks, you tried to get him off your mind. You forced yourself to leave your phone in your pocket as you had a glass of wine in hand and a canvas in front of you. Painting relaxed you. The mix of blues and whites and greys on your blank slate, creating art, you let your mind melt into the process. For the first time in two months, you had gone longer than ten minutes without thinking of him. After twitching your hands all week to call him, to beg him to see you, you felt at peace.

And then your phone buzzed.

You froze in your chair, listening to the buzzing. When your friends looked at you, when you feared this was your only chance to have him, you excused yourself to the bathroom and pulled your phone out of your pocket. The familiar caller ID almost had your knees buckle, heart fluttering, so you put the toilet seat down and sat on it, putting your phone to your ear.

"Took you long enough to answer."

You let out an unsteady breath, relieved and tense to hear his voice again. Your thighs pressed together and you cleared your throat. "Sorry, I'm out with friends."

"Not available?" His dismissive tone made you lurch forward as if you could physically grab him and pull him to you. You shook your head, not that he could see.

"No, I can be available. When do you want to meet?"

"I'm on my way to your apartment. Be there in ten."

The line clicked after that. You laid the phone on your lap, hand pressed to your mouth. God, you were such a terrible friend for what you were about to do. Slowly, you came out of the bathroom, walked to your friends as they laughed over some joke, and shyly told them you had to leave. You received concerned and confused looks, but you just told them it was a work thing. You grabbed your coat and apologized. Their goodbyes sat in the back of your mind the second the door closed behind you and you hastily walked away.

You were so easy. Your schedule cleared up whenever he called. You really abandoned your friends for a fuck.

Nine minutes later, your building's elevator opened onto your floor. There he was, leaned against the wall with his shoulder, eyes on you. His face was blank, even as you came up to the door with your keys in hand. No sunglasses, for it was already evening and the sun was long gone. His judging half-lidded gaze was in full view, your hand shaking and you bit your cheek as you opened the door.

Your heart raced in your chest, walking into the apartment first with him following you in. He closed the door behind him. You turned to him to ask if he wanted anything to drink out of obligation, but he walked straight to your bedroom, shedding his jacket and throwing it onto your sofa as he did. Like an obedient dog, you trailed after him.

He kicked off his shoes and you followed suit as you made your way to his side.

Your heart raced when he stopped at the foot of your bed, turning to you. His hands already reached out before you could completely stop in front of him, pulling your coat off of you. You raised your hands and your shirt followed next. He grabbed your ass and you leaped into his hold, letting him bring you down onto the bed before he crawled over you. His hands expertly unbuttoned your pants, pulling down both your pants and underwear. Left in just your bra, your chest heaved from the sudden squeeze to your thighs.

He placed a kiss on your collarbone, sliding his hands up the back of your thighs before pulling them apart. His kisses trailed down the valley of your breasts, biting gently at the mound as his fingers spread your cunt to the cool air. You whined, thighs threatening to close, but unable to with his body keeping them from completely shutting. He still gave you a look from your attempt.

You shuddered, maintaining eye contact as he rubbed circles on your clit. One finger teased at your opening, the sound of your juices coating his finger and rubbing back against you filled the silence. His eyes narrowed just the slightest, judging you.

"Do you want me to stop?" You shook your head. "Then, keep your legs open."

You muttered a "yes, sir," prompting him to rub your clit faster, coating your opening with your juices. A finger would teasingly slip into your entrance, rub against your wall, only to pull back out and wipe your slick on you. His lips pulled down slightly.

"You're already so wet. I'm barely touching you." He pressed the flat of his palm against you, digging the heel of his palm on your clit. You bucked uselessly against it, his other hand quick to hold your hips down, to keep you under his control. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," voice breathy, you nodded.

He brought his face close to yours, face a blank slate once more. "Then, beg."

So, you did. You begged for his cock, begged for him to fuck you completely and with no restraint. You were his. Please, please. With each pitiful plea that fell from your lips, he rubbed your clit faster. He pushed two fingers into you and fucked you hard just like that. You writhed, unable to buck into his touch, head falling into the pillow and back arching.

He didn't stop, not until you came around his fingers. And you did. He knew just how to vary the pace and intensity with just his fingers, thumb rubbing hard circles into you, to get you to your climax in record time. Aaron Hotchner knew your body. He kept it up while you spasmed around his fingers, while you cried out with quivering lips.

You stilled limply, catching your breath as he pulled his fingers out of you. He stood on his knees, pulling his shirt over his shoulders, toned stomach flexing with the movement. You propped yourself on your elbows, covered in slick sweat, watching him shimmy his pants down and toss them off the bed with his boxers following suit. Like usual, your mouth watered at the full sight of his naked body.

"On your knees."

It was a struggle, but you did as told. You knew the routine. Your hands reached for the headboard, arching your back into the bed as your ass rose higher. He smacked your ass, making you wince from the rough play, but your breath hitched as he splayed his hands over your back. You felt him lean over you, unclasping your bra. The straps slid down to your elbows, your boobs bouncing freely without its binding.

He roughly squeezed your boobs, chest pressed to your back as he lazily rubbed himself against you. His long shaft rubbed electricity against your cunt, the friction on your clit mesmerizing. Face next to your ear, his hot breaths hit your ear, all these sensations made your head loll back, his breathing much more clear to you.

"Aaron," you breathily said.

He squeezed your boobs one more time before one hand dropped between you to line his dick up to your cunt. No warning was given when he bottomed out, your back arching as your shoulders pressed into his collarbone, a sharp cry leaving your lips. He didn't wait on you, a sharp exhale from his mouth as he started to thrust.

You gripped the headboard tightly, biting your lips to muffle the filthy moans that tried to escape you. The headboard slammed against the wall, the mattress squeaking as unholy obscenities spilled out of you. Only Aaron could do this to you.

He didn't like you biting down your moans. Aaron pinched your nipple, twisting it hard and your mouth fell open in a pained moan. His lips right next to your ear, he hissed, "Don't you dare fucking hold back. Fucking scream."

He wrapped one hand around your throat, pulling you up into his chest. Your bra completely slipped off your arms, falling listlessly at your knees. He fucked up into you, one hand between your folds to roughly rub at your clit. His hand was hot against your neck. You bounced in his hold, moans climbing higher and higher.

You came around him, the second orgasm of the night. Reaching behind you, you buried your fingers into his hair, his moans right in your ear and mixing with the sick sounds of sex the two of you made. Your walls spasmed around him, tears coming down your cheeks from the intensity of it all.

He pushed his mouth against your ear. "Is this what you want?"

You nodded.

"Say it. Tell me you want me to fuck you senseless."

"I want you-" you shuddered from the overstimulation, earning a squeeze of your throat and a pinch to your clit. You squirmed, forcing yourself to say it all in one, short breath. "I want you to fuck me senseless. I want you Hotchner."

"Atta girl," he smacked your cunt. "That's right."

You continued to stroke his ego. "I'm yours. I'm all yours."

"Yes. Yes." He groaned, perfectly pleased to hear that. "You belong to me."

"Aaron-" You felt another coil building. He was so rough with you, you couldn't help but become putty in his hands. At the sound of his name, he rose one finger from your throat, tilting your head back, feeling you swallow nothing. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum," he ordered. He licked a stripe up your neck. "Cum on my dick, again, you stupid slut."

You shivered, back arching as you came. The third time and he still had yet to come. You really were as easy as he said you were. Aaron knew your body. He knew what made you belong to him.

He moaned out a breathy laugh in your ear. "You little whore. You're so fucking horny." He nosed your cheek, nibbling at your ear. "You're my whore. Got it?"

You nodded, well-spent but he didn't stop inside you. Tears poured down your face, your body sweaty and you were so unbearably hot. Your slick back rubbed his slick chest. Every thrust was wet and sloppy, your juices making a mess on your thighs.

Lip quivering, you repeated what he said with confidence. "I'm your whore."

"Yeah, you are." His thrusts grew wilder, more erratic. "Yeah, you fucking are. Mine."

"Aaron-"

"My fucking dirty whore." His hand squeezed at your throat, leaving you gasping in his hold. "You fucking belong to me."

Your hands fell from his, wrapping around the wrist that squeezed your life out of you. You didn't try to pull him off of you, feeling another orgasm coming. Dots spotted along your vision, it was getting harder to breathe. He fucked into you hard.

"Your body is mine to fuck." He rubbed your clit hard with two fingers, not even in circles anymore. Just rough rubbing in a straight line. Your clit tinged in pain from overstimulation, you choked for air. "Nobody else can fuck you like I do."

You nodded as best as you could in agreement. He was right. Aaron knew your body, knew what to make you tick and squirm and cry and moan. He knew how to make you keel, how to beg for him. He knew what exactly made you the whore that you were. And it was all by his hand, for him, and only for him.

His hand squeezed impossibly tighter around you. Together, you came for the fourth time as Aaron fucking Hotchner fucked his seed into you. Warm, white liquid spilled into your walls, your cunt milking him with each spasm. He fucked you through your high, through his, with wild thrusts.

As he came, his grasp on your throat loosened to a mere hold, and your orgasm heightened from the sudden influx of oxygen into your lungs. You slumped against him, his dick no longer spilling his cum into you. He softened in you, still fucking for another moment before he completely let you go.

You flopped forward onto the bed, letting the sheets cool your body off. He pulled out of you, his cum spilling out of you. You shivered as the air kissed against your wet body, blanketing you in a chill. Weakly, you turned over onto your back.

You wanted Aaron Hotchner to kiss you.

You wanted him to hold you close and massage your thighs and praise you. For him to whisper sweet nothings about you--to you.

He sat at the edge of your bed, pants in hand as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket. You didn't have it in you to ask him not to smoke in here, not as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. His back muscles flexed as he reached down and grabbed his clothes, as he stuffed his dick into his boxers and shimmied into his pants. Covered in sweat, but not as much as you were, he zipped the front of his pants.

Your eyes lit with hope, as they always did when he turned to you and held his cigarette out of his mouth between pinched fingers. His face was blank, with no emotion whatsoever. Like always, you gulped, chest heaving and trying to catch your breath as he looked you over. Kept his eyes on your spread legs where his seed spilled out of you.

He took another long drag, turning away from you. "You should get yourself cleaned up."

And like all the other times, he left you a mess on the bed. The apartment door clicked shut in the distance and your gaze drifted to the ceiling. He made you wait a week, just to fuck you and leave, again.

And, like all the other times, you'd wait for his call the next day. And the next.

Aaron knew you. He knew you were addicted. Nobody else would ever get the chance to fill your heart, not like he did.

You were his.

[eshithepetty]

LISTEN. I KNOWWW that the polls haven't even started, but I'm impatient, ok, I'm just putting this out there now cause I can't take it..... anyways - I've seen people do powerpoints as a way to campaign for their blorbos in the various polls that have been going on, so!! I thought I'd do one of my own for the @autismswagsummit ^^ as I simply can't pass on any chance to be brainrotted over this series, it seems...

ID under cut, as it's very long!

[ID: a powerpoint presentation campaigning for Mob from Mob Psycho 100. It's formatted in dark purples and pinks.

The first slide is the titlecard, differing from the main slides by having a pink holographic aura, like the ones from the show, as the background. The text says:

"#MOBSWEEP 2023

Aka why you should vote for Mob in the upcoming autistic swag summit. Please

(JK follow your own heart ^^ but for your consideration:)"

The second slide is titled: "Who is Mob, aka Kageyama Shigeo?" and below the text lists:

"Source: Mob Psycho 100, which is also where Reigen comes from;

The protagonist! Only with background character syndrome (which is why he’s named ���Mob’ – it’s kinda like naming your protag ‘John Doe’ lol);

A 14 year old with the psychic strength to destroy the world. Which he’s not very happy about actually;

Cause really, he’s just a nice, gentle boy who simply wants to improve and impress his crush by getting swole :) Oh, and he also experiences the horrors. Btw."

On the right of this text, there are two images: One is a zoomed in screenshot of Mob, his face blank and confused, and the other is an official art of the show, depicting Mob in the center, aura glowing, with many of the show's other characters around him, with the show's title at the bottom of the image.

The third slide's title is "Ok but tell me more about the autism", and below, the text says:

"Gladly ^^

Ok, first off – symptoms:

Bad at reading social cues, detecting sarcasm, lies, etc.;

Struggles with recognizing/expressing emotions. Has what could be called psychic meltdowns;

Very honest and blunt, sometimes appearing ‘ruthless’ as a result;

Explicitly low empathy, in that he can’t feel what others are feeling;

Actually very compassionate, and follows a really strict moral code;"

There are no images in this or the next slide.

The fourth slide is a continuation of the previous, with the text being:

"Abnormal reaction to sensations, but instead of overreacting, he underreacts, rarely responding to physical touch and disturbing imagery. Has shown to be at times sensitive to loud sounds, however;

Prefers following a routine. One of his biggest conflicts with Reigen literally arise from the man often calling him out of the blue and making him suddenly adapt, which Mob finds really annoying/upsetting;

Struggles in school. Explicitly bad at math, japanese and PE (really passionate about the latter tho), which could be for a variety of reasons, autism related conditions (like dyscalculia/dyslexia/dyspraxia) being one of them;

Has felt like an outcast for most of his life. Even if he grew up in a pretty loving environment, he recognizes that he is different to others, and people sometimes treat him as such (in a /neg way);

His main arc is about overcoming trauma and… just masking (and how to stop doing it), pretty much, lol."

The fifth slide, in contrast, is mostly just images, placed upon a white background. The title for this one is "Alternatively, just look at him:"

The images, from top to down, and then left to right, are:

Three cropped subtitles out of screenshots of the show, which say:

"I'm sure I just got the wrong idea again. How embarrassing."

"He's detached from urban legends, fads, and other hot topics among people."

"You just can't lie, can you?"

The fourth is a cropped screenshot of Mob's explosion meter. Both in Japanese and English. Specifically, it says: "Progress towards Mob's explosion: 92%". Additionally, there is an annotation above this image, saying: "Literally has a meltdown meter ksfdks"

In-between these and the next column of images, there is also a transparent image of Mob, him standing stiffly, faced towards the camera, his standard, blank expression with a small smile on his face.

The next column of images goes like this:

A screenshot from the show, done in paint on glass, of various kids towering over Mob, who's standing in the middle of the image, small. Their expressions wary, from sneering, to frowning, to looking disgusted. The subtitles at the bottom say, with one part blocked out due to spoilers: "[spoilers] didn't treat me any differently even though I could use psychic powers."

Next two are cropped dialogues as well. They say:

"This version of him was created from being suppressed and locked away."

"Social skills like that are beyond you."

And on the right of the slide is one vertical image, showing one of Mob's books, with the subtitles translating the Japanese title of the book as "The Proper Way of Reading the Room". Next to this one, there is also an annotation, saying: "He has a book on learning social cues :’)" That's all for this slide.

The sixth slide is titled "Is he good rep though?" Text below is:

"Well, to answer the first thing relevant to this question… no, he’s not actually confirmed canon autistic. But c’mon.. it’s so obvious. This kid is not fucking allistic like c’monnnn

Of course, what people consider good and bad rep is gonna vary from person to person. But to explain why a lot of people see him as very positive rep:

"1) He’s the main character, so he gets the most spotlight, and the narrative is formed around his pov, in that we only see things that are relevant to Mob, and visually things are often represented in the way Mob sees them as well (take the body improvement club or Tsubomi, for example), which puts all viewers soundly in his shoes and makes him easy to relate to and sympathize with, and makes it clear how important his emotions and view of things really are;"

On the right of this are 3 images against a white background. The first one is a screenshot of the Body Improvement Club - 5 very buff and large dudes - standing against an explosively red and yellow background, with all of them enthusiastically flexing. The caption below that is "The body improvement club! ...they're supposed to be middle schoolers lol".

The next two, below the first one, are two screenshots of Tsubomi. The one on the left has her smiling, her eyes wide and bright, the background being pastel pinks and yellows. The one on the right, however, has her frowning, the background turned black, her eyes dark and disinterested. The caption below says: "Tsubomi :) And how her design subtly changes alongside Mob’s view of her".

The seventh slide is a continuation of the previous, with the text being:

"2) He’s a very well rounded character, with well thought out strengths, flaws, motives, and his overall story is very cohesive and satisfying; 3) His autistic traits are portrayed neutrally – in both where they help, and where they can cause conflict. It balances between him learning what things he would benefit to address and deal with, and what things he shouldn’t be trying to change at all, and as the whole message of the show emphasizes – he is no more or less special than anyone, no more or less of a person – he is simply human, and his autistic traits are just part of what makes him himself."

This one has images next to it as well. The first one is a screenshot of Reigen looking towards the camera (at an off-screen Mob), hand to his chin, eyebrow raised and smiling, some food crumbs still stuck to his face, as he says: "Today you happened to save some people that only you could have saved." Next to it is the annotation: "Reigen reassuring Mob about how his inability to read the room and feel empathy actually can be a huge benefit sometimes :)"

The next image below is a zoom in of Mob's face, his eyes shadowed by his hair, the scene's lighting dark, as he says: "I'm not being mocked, nor am I easily taken advantage of." The annotation next to this one says "Mob learning to recognize his emotions and assert himself better as the story goes on!"

And the last two images is a screenshotted dialogue, saying "You don't think changing yourself for someone you love is natural?" "I don't. At least, not when we're talking about [spoilers]" (The last bit is blocked out again).

The eight slide is also a continuation. The text says:

"4) He is loved. Loved by his friends, his family, his allies… even most villains come to take a liking to him. In fact, he’s something I haven’t seen many autistic characters be – he’s admired! So many characters, and even viewers of the show I’ve found, really admire him and want to be more like him. And not because he’s a perfect person, or super smart or anything, but because he sincerely tries his best. And I just really appreciate that, personally,, 5) And more than just loved, he is accepted – the whole main arc and the resolution of his story centers around that, around how important it is to feel accepted by the people around you, in all your entirety, no matter how strange or destructive you may feel yourself to be. And how you need to come to accept yourself in the same way as well. I just think that’s a really sweet in a story centering around a neurodivergent person :’)"

And the images next to it are as follows:

A screenshot of dialogue from the show, saying: "At first glance, Mob may seem unreliable, but his strength is undeniable." The annotation clarifies with: "The ‘strength’ in question, in this case, being Mob’s ability to reach out to people ^^";

A screenshot of Teru placed against a blindingly white background, him grinning widely, looking down, eyes shining, as he says: "I knew it, you really are amazing!". Next to him, there is a small caption of "Lol gayass /pos";

And a screenshot of Mob, in the bottom center of the image, small, as he is surrounded by various characters. Most of them are smiling encouragingly, with the ones closest to him, like Reigen, Ritsu, Dimple, Teru and Tsubomi, being bigger and placed in the front. A small caption at the top says: "He has so many friends and allies ueueeueueue.."

The ninth slide is titled "Additionally:" and the text lists:

"Psychic powers as a metaphor for being nd/othered, if that suits your fancy;

His design is iconic and versatile;

The boy has. Issues;;

There are many other characters in mp100 who can be read as autistic. Not a single neurotypical in this show /hj

Mob has more than just autism swag. I’ve seen people with bipolar disorder, ADHD, anxiety and those who are plural (etc.) also relate to him :)

He is simply the Boy ever"

Next to the last line is a small, low quality image of Mob smiling from the manga. The rest of the images, on the right, are:

The meme "I can be your angle....or yuour devil", with images of Mob instead - on the left, him smiling brightly and blushing, placed upon a colorful magenta background, and on the right, a panel from the manga: Mob in one of his explosion states, surrounded by fire, face shadowed, hair pushed back by his powers and waving in the air, and his eyes, wide and eerie, being the only features on his face that are visible.

On the right of these images, there is a smaller one, of Mob in another one of his explosion states (the one from episode 3, season 1 of the anime). He is facing to the side, aura surrounding him, hair pushed back by his powers and his eyes a glower. His pupils are red.

Below these, there are three images of, in order, Serizawa, Tome and Ritsu. Serizawa is sweating, nervous, Tome is sweating even more and yelling into a phone, and Ritsu is simply glaring towards the camera. The annotation pointing to them says: "A few of the other autistic blorbos in question :] (as I personally see them at least)".

And the last is a panel from the manga, of Mob sobbing, tears and drool dripping messily down his face, his hair waving in the air. His expression is somewhat blank despite the clear distress, and the text boxes next to him read: "His tears won't stop. It's an emotion he has never experienced before."

And the tenth, final slide, is formatted the same as the titlecard with the pink aura background, and says:

"Thank you if you got this far <3

Have good days everyones, and remember, the true win for autism is the fun we had along the way :]

Buh bye!! ^_^"

Around this text, there are various images of Mob. Counter clockwise, starting at the left corner:

A low quality screenshot of Mob flying in the air;

Mob, in his puppy hoodie, sweating in distress as he points at a vase;

Mob caught mid smear frame, his leg kicked high in the air as he jumps, his school bag swinging to the side, his expression comically flustered.

A panel from the manga. Mob's eyes are shadowed, chopsticks held to his face, as he stares to the side and says "Tch... Shut up and eat.";

A Mob in an alleyway from the anime, smiling, pointing and looking up and to the left (the center of the slide);

A photo of a Mob plushie tucked into bed;

A low quality screenshot of Mob, standing against a wire fence, facing forwards, his eyes appearing a bit angry due to his hair cowering them.

End ID.]

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Baba!"

Danny smiled as he toweled his hair dry. He loved hearing his little one yell from the living room of his-now thier- lair.

The circumstances of his conception were irrelevant. He loved his kiddo very much, hence the abundance of photo albums and home videos chalked full of his kid doing random stuff. The one with him in his high chair stuffing cheerios into his mouth is his favorite solely for the fact it caught him trying to stuff them up his nose a few times. Definitely something to show future dates when he's older.

His smile fell when he heard anothers voice. No one should have access to his lair. They were in the Infinite Realms for stars sake.

Rushing out of the bathroom in only his sweatpants he charged into the living room to find it filled with capes. More specifically different (largely in costume) versions of Tim Drake. Uh oh.

How did this happen?

"Baba!" He looked down at thier child who was smiling up at him from the arms of one of the younger Tims, showing off his brand new baby fang and bloody hand. Danny rushed into the kitchen to get some alcohol pads and some bravery badges, walking past the summoning circle he had on his wall and taking note of the tiny bloody handprints near the bottom of it.

Crap. That was meant to summon friends and family into the lair. His little star must have tried summoning his father.

After bandaging his kid up and kissing the area he smiled and said, "all better!" Which earned him a giggle from the one year old and an odd look from the child still holding him.

"Tim?" The vigilante looked startled, but Danny didn't give him a chance to recover, "How about you take the little one into the living room and wait with the others? I need to make myself decent before I come explain things."

The kid looked skeptical but agreed and left in that direction.

Danny made his way to his room, and after chasing out two teenage birds who somehow snuck past him into there, he finally got dressed and chased more out of his toddlers room before making it to the living room.

Feeling a room full of eyes on him he sighed and conjured more couches from the ectoplasm in his lair, ignoring some startled shouts as he sat down.

There were a lot of different Tims here. Three adults all in gear, one good two evil, about seven teens, three in gear while four in civvies. Two of the civilian ones were the boys he had caught snooping in his room for clues.

Lastly there were three boys, two in gear with one in a civilian outfit.

Thats a total of thirteen (13) Tims.

"Okay, to start off id like to apologize on behalf of my son. We didn't mean to summon any of you."

The Robin holding Danny son chimed in, "How did he summon us?"

"Kiddo is too small to properly pronounce things yet. Hence why his calling you "baba" instead of "papa"."

He ignored the surprised sounds and questions and just let that sink in before adding, "To clarify, no. None of you are actually the father."

Danny waited patiently for them to calm down and ignored more questions, "I was with an alternate version of you who turned out to be evil-ish and wanted to eliminate all superpowers from existence or something, a fact I didn't know at the time."

"Anyway, he purposely sabotaged my birth control to get me pregnant knowing I wouldn't abort. He did this knowing that when his plan started to come to fruition I'd be too far along to stop him. He had a counter to everything, even things we never told him about. I ended up having to sever the connection between this place- the Infinite Realms- and my home dimension, trapping him there with no way for him to get out and leaving me with no way to ever see my friends or family again. Questions?"

There were many.

[thekatebridgerton]

Today on stories I'm too sleep deprived to write #XYZ

Sometimes I really think about writing a Polin fanfiction where Penelope marries Lucy's uncle and ends up neglected and abused, but doesn't leave him because of teenage Richard and little Lucy. Until she finds out about the deal to betroth little Lucy to Haselby Junior and how her husband is commiting treason and basically wants to sell his young niece to cover it up. So Penelope finds some will to live after years of just taking the abuse to protect the kids and sells her husband out to the crown, on the condition that the Abernathy title isn't affected.

Cue Lucy's uncle officially dying in a mysterious accident and Penelope moving back to London with little Lucy and young Richard. The Bridgertons and the Featheringtons are happy to have her back but Penelope's marriage has changed her and the first one that notices is Colin.

Penelope doesn't smile anymore, she's busy running the Abernathy estates and putting the fear of God into her teenage nephew because Richard is the darn heir to the Abernathy title and he needs to act like it, David did Richard no good and he really needs a good male influence in his life.

'No Colin not you, the last thing I need is Richard deciding he wants to drop everything and go gallivanting across Europe while his aunt and little sister despair in worry... I meant a male influence like Anthony, or Simon'

Colin starts putting the pieces together about her marriage when he sees that Penelope keeps reassuring Lucy that yes everything in the mansion is all theirs and that nobody can hurt them now. And when she keeps pushing Richard to make friends among the ton so his sister can have a better chance when she's presented.

Basically, id love to see a deconstruction of a situation where Penelope doesn't realize she's turning into her mother. And actually begins to see things from Portia's point of view now that she's officially An unhappy widow who's only joy in life will be to see her wards safely married and enjoying the life she never could.

She's Determined to make up for lost time when it comes to building connections and ensuring Richard and Lucy's future, going as far as policing Lucy's friend circle because ' Lucy is too kind and too naive, any false friend could play her for a fool'

Everyone else thinks Penelope is just being Penelope but Colin can see that she's spiraling under the weight of her worries and the ghost of her former husband, and he wants to help, he keeps showing up to everywhere she goes, trying to bring a smile out of her, encouraging her to think about herself, to dream about love, maybe remarriage, like Francesca, live again with a purpose.

Penelope thinks Colin is cute but annoying and needs to buzz off, she may still think he's handsome and charming but gone are the days she would feel over the moon for sharing a dance with him. The harder he tries to cheer her up, the more upset she gets, who gave Colin the right to see through her? Why is he so fixated on helping her, she's fine, she got rid of David, she's got Lucy and Richard and boatloads of money to do as she pleases! Penelope doesn't need Colin Bridgerton's pity!

Bonus if this is an au in which Colin still remains a bachelor, because he never found the love his parents used to have. And always felt guilty for not saving Penelope from the marriage that ruined her life.

But Colin keeps trying. Almost as if he's in love with her or something, but Penelope no longer believes in love. She's only hopeful for Lucy, because that child deserves true love, Lucy will have everything Penelope never did, Lucy is the future...

Even if Lucy IS developing the same predilection for Eton attending Bridgertons that Penelope did in her youth, Penelope will ignore Gregory's friendly attention to Lucy the same way Portia continues to ignore Colin's attention to her.

This won't backfire, not at all

[girlsweat]

Staying on my Couch

When you ask if I know anybody who needs a roommate, I offer to let you crash at my place for a few days. You tell me you don't need help moving, showing up at my door with two bags and whatever's in your pockets. I offer to take the couch, but you already feel bad about the situation. The first week consists of you trying to stay out of my way. It breaks my heart. I assume you're just getting comfortable and try to leave you be.

Your mood doesn't improve. The job hunt isn't going well, and you're hoping I don't ask for help with the bills. Finally I catch you, making you sit up so I can join you on the couch. You swear up and down that it's not me; I've been nothing but kind to you. But I feel like I could do better. I tell you to take a short break from applying to recharge.

The next few days I try more to make you feel at home. Insisting you eat with me rather than reheating my cooking, learning more about your life before you got here, and watching shows together on the couch. You aren't happy, but you're starting to be happier. Seeing those rare half-hearted smiles, noticing you tense up less when I'm around. It makes me happier than I thought possible. When you ask to see my bedroom I have to contain my excitement. I had been keeping it clean for days now, much longer than I did in the past. I sheepishly watch as your eyes dart around the room. You leave after a minute or two, content to not comment on any of my clothes or the posters on the wall.

Your phone not working catches you off-guard. You guess mom finally decided to stop paying for you. I don't want to pry, instead offering to add you onto my phone plan. You tell me you're very grateful, even if your contacts didn't get saved somehow. I never tell you I swapped the SIM card while you were asleep. Betraying the trust you have in me hurts. But I was so happy to see how soundly you slept now.

The nicer I am to you, the more comfortable you get around me. And the bolder I get. Your wallet's been empty for days now. The money went back to you, of course. Until one of those jobs calls you back, it's not like you need your ID for anything. I find some nice looking clothes I came across on clearance. They fit surprisingly well, even if some of them aren't your style. Once, we both fell asleep on the couch. I tried to apologize, but you laughed it off. It was the first time I heard that laugh.

On the day you ask again to see my bedroom, you hear me talking to somebody at the door. There's something familiar about the other woman's voice. I'm very sorry ma'am, but I don't know who you're talking about. She's gone by the time you show up behind me to ask. It was a missing persons case. Things like that scare me. I gently grab your hand. This is it. This is your chance to help me worry less. Your opportunity to make me happy, just like I made you happy.

[forthegothicheroine]

Congratulations on your turn as Iris! I'm so happy to hear you're treading the boards again!

I might get the chance to visit San Francisco early in next year, and I was wondering if you might have any suggestions of fun things to do, off the beaten path a bit, in the colder months in that fair city?

I greatly apologize for taking so long to answer this! While many of my favorite things are gone (I still weep for steampunk stores and revival movie houses,) there are still cool, unique things to do on a trip. Here are some of them which were open as of a year ago.

Japantown Mall: The best place to be, hands down. The mall itself has amazing authentic Japanese food, a giant half-Japanese and half-English bookstore with a whole level devoted to manga and light novels, and lots of small stalls of crepes and boba tea. Across the street you'll find the Crown and Crumpet, a cute tea room with an upper floor that sells EGL brands. Even if you don't buy anything, just walking around is a great day!

Golden Gate Park: Take a walk and see the beauty of nature! Have a snack at the Japanese Tea Garden while admiring the koi pond! If the tickets aren't too expensive, go to the Academy of Sciences aquarium and say hi to the albino alligator for me! Admire the Shakespeare garden if it's in season! Another fun place to be for a whole afternoon.

Lupa Trattoria: The best Italian food I've ever had in the United States.

Haight-Ashbury: While not the goth and hippie paradise it used to be, this is still a cool couple streets. There's a science fiction bookstore called Borderlands, another cool indie bookstore called Booksmith, a huge vintage clothing store called Relic Vintage, and some pretty good thrift stores as well.

City Lights: Not done book shopping? Go to the place that published beat generation writings back in the day, which now sells an eclectic collection of intellectual, classic and offbeat titles. When I would get a book and go read it at the nearbye Cafe Zoetrope, I felt like the coolest person in the world.

Pier 39 Sea Lions: Sea lions!!! An earthquake sent them here, and they've stayed here ever since. They sit on a bunch of large rafts wrestling, showing off, or sleeping in the sun. They always cheered me up.

Exploratorium: A totally unique science museum that encourages you to touch and interact with the exhibits. They have special presentations as well, so check the website to see what's going on

Musée Mécanique: Do you want to take a headlong plunge into the uncanny valley? Of course you do! This free mini-museum has animations and carnival games from yesteryear, and the huge and terrifying Laughing Sally. It's in walking distance of Pier 39, too.

Lovejoy's Tea Room: They catered my wedding!!! Great tea and pastries, and a super cozy atmosphere, plus you sometimes get to see egl friends have meetups in gorgeous attire.

The Castro: As gentrified as it's gotten, there's still something wonderful about a neighborhood with rainbow crosswalks and pride flags waving everywhere. Sob outside of the late lamented Castro Theater (now a concert venue,) go to a souvenir store, walk down to Bi-Rite Creamery for ice cream if the line isn't too long.

Bourbon and Branch, Smuggler's Cove: If you like vintage cocktails, have a night out at Bourbon and Branch, a retro speakeasy, or Smuggler's Cove, an amazing tiki bar. Call ahead for B&B, since you need reservations and the password.

Folsom Street Fair: If you ever go again in summer and are not squicked by kink, check out this fetish festival! (And no, scaremongers, children can not actually get in and be traumatized by this, as they check your ID.) Buy a corset, have experts tie you up, get sex ed from guys who've been teaching it for fifty years, see everybody in their awesome outfits. (It is somehow always on the hottest day of the year, though, so stay hydrated, especially if you're in head to toe leather.)

The Alamo Drafthouse: While not unique to San Francisco, I'm always happy to be in a city that has one of these. This movie theater shows new films, classics and cult favorites, and you can order food while you watch (try the milkshakes!) One of my best moviegoing experiences was when they showed The Lost Boys, and all the goths in the lobby looked at each other and nodded, like yeah, we all know why we're here.

[molluskmirage]

The clashing contrast of Etoiles and Bad’s fighting styles are very fun as they’re on polarizing ends of the spectrum.

Etoiles is very much of the ‘bushido’ way. You train to be skilled but your skills have rules and codes and honor. Fights in pure brute to brute skill is considered both the right and the ‘fun’ option for Etoiles and lack of chance to flex these skills causes depression.

Bad is very much a hunter, in specific a ‘human’ type hunter. He uses his wit and tenacity (‘being a nuisance’) to overcome ‘prey’ much greater then himself. He thinks tactically and uses every resource to cause damage mentally, physically, and emotionally, no tool is left untouched. Points and fun for bad come from creativity.

In the ‘quiet’ moments not in combat Etoiles always eager to spar at any opportunity, playfully beating up on anyone in his vicinity. Bad always eager to discover a new elaborate way to trick or tease those he cares for.

how this plays out narratively is very fun as well for Etoiles’s fighting style and mentality it goes along with him achieving the greatest shield and greatest sword. To him only he can protect others for he has achieved the best, through his merit and skill.

for Bad upon hearing of the code sword’s effects immediately came up with a device (basically a weaponized battle backpack) of simple tools available to everyone that could counter the sword’s effects, because for bad when he hears of a challenge he lights up and schemes to overcome, never saying to himself that his weaknesses can keep him from competing.

Both Etoiles and Bad are persistent, for Etoiles it means becoming stronger for Bad it means defeating by any means by any source. For Etoiles Bad’s fighting style is considered ‘dirty’ ‘not honorable’ and ‘not fun’. Where Etoiles has high respect for Bad is that Bad is highly trained and puts a lot of effort into what he does, while an opposing end to Etoiles it still takes just as much effort to pull off in a substantial way and Bad does that, the love and passion and work put in are the same for both. Both reserve themselves against others that aren’t willing to partake in going against them in non combat settings. While Etoiles picks up on what is the same for him within Bad, Purgatory was a show of how there styles are in direct conflict with one another.

Order vs chaos.

Its very entertaining to have these two pairings as again in their respective fields they’re both very great at what they do but they both of course do so differently to one another the clash is fun.

They haven’t really had the chance to actually clash too much, purgatory being the biggest opportunity and kind of realization moment thus far but the chord that is similar is still too strong for them to have a chance at opposition just yet (I feel theres plenty of opportunity for it to happen at some point down the line which Id be happy for because I love juxtapositions particularly in ones where neither is right or wrong just different. Very cool stuff!)

[theosconfessions]

if youd like to read the stephens from the beginning you can over here :)

if youd like to read the stephens continued you can over here:)

@ohsosims

theo- yeah we moved pretty fast

scarlett- for someone who didnt want to settle down you did. but he was worthy of that right?

theo- [smirks] you know im not fan of you being passive aggressive as fuck right now. why dont you skip all this shit and ask me what you want to ask me.

scarlett- okay if dustin was the type youd settle down for. whyd you cheat on him twice? i mean the second time you full on left us. him everything you built. the first time well you just couldnt control your dick.

theo- turn the cameras off.

scarlett- sure

theo- im being serious turn the cameras off. im not putting this out there for everyone but if you have questions. fair enough. turn them off.

scarlett- cut the live, blake. say what you need to. but my phones still recording .for dad.

theo- dad knows everything im about to say to you.

scarlett- so say it again.

theo- thank you. so the first time was just stupid and im paying for that with my health. you want answers to why i left you guys and although dustin and i have been good for awhile. i never apologized to you, robin or river. that was my oversight. i could it here and give excuses but there are none. the problemw ith these types of shows, scarlett. especially with guys like me who are completely full of themselves..these shows feed into that. a house full of people who want to fuck me? as a young guy? are you kidding me? i mean, scar do you really think that it was just marlee and lillie i was involved with before dustin? i thought everyone wanted me and i acted as such. so all that aside, i turn 50. im married, i have a five year old you at home to take care of since marlees head is so far up jamis ass by then. BUT the problem is im still thinking like that. like everyone wants me. how could i say no i thought. it had nothing to do with your dad.dustin wanting kids. it had everything to dowith me. im a shitty person. no excuses. i left. and then i woke up. and then sex with strangers wasnt hitting like it did before. woke up alone strung out. still had to go to work . still had to see your father everyday knowing what i did to him. the worst thing ive ever done was hurt that man. it wasnt a quick forgive for him. i was on my knees literally some days. and he rightfully told me to fuck off. he had you guys to look out for.

scarlett- how did you get dad to forgive you? i barely remember you moving back in. you were just there.

theo- wasnt easy . like at all. and i didnt deserve his forgiveness. it took time a lot of it. i had to prove that he could trust me again. we started right back at the beginning. less sex this time though.

scarlett-youre gross

theo- some things dont change

scarlett- do you think dad trusts you now?

theo- if he doesnt? he has every right not to. but id hope in the ten years that weve patched things up that he does. id like to think he does.

scarlett- i still dont

theo- understandable. i dont think river or robin really trust me either. but im grateful youre giving me a chance scarlett. that youre even speaking to me. even if this thing started off as a witchhunt. and your dads probably going to kill me when i get home.

scarlett-[sighs] blake, start the live.

theo- whats this?

scarlett- just wrapping up. do you have any regrets in doing the bachelor?

theo- i regret how i treated the people on it.

scarlett- advice for people going into it?

theo- mm dont think with your dick.

scarlett- charming.

theo- im a charming guy.

scarlett- and where does the future take you,theo?

[hubristicassholefight]

Swordswoman Showdown Round 2 Part 2

Brienne of Tarth (A Song Of Ice and Fire) vs Urbosa (The Legend of Zelda)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Brienne

gets gifted a sword made with the rarest metal ever because she’s THAT good; she’s simply the best

Brienne is one of the top sword users alive in her day. She's descended from a man who's catchphrase was "I'm better with a sword." Better than what? You. Jaime Lannister. Loras Tyrell. Any five given guys at once. She has a fantastic sword that might be magic or cursed and is named Oathkeeper because that's what she does; I love her

Beat like 20 guys in a tournament when she was 19. Was given a magic sword. Won a sword fight against the premier swordsman in the realm. Very swordly; Very tall and strong. Holds her sword in high esteem. Accomplished with other weapons as well!

She's defeated multiple of the top knights in the series in duels. One such knight gifts her the fabergé egg of swords and she uses it to defend orphans and stuff. Got out of a bad betrothal by dueling him and beating his ass so bad she broke multiple bones. Honestly there's so much more she is the swordswoman of all time. to me; She's buff and ugly and 6' 5" and so honorable and kind that she inspires the guy who fucks his sister to yknow. stop doing that. literally gets mauled for the sake of protecting a bunch of orphans (with her sword). also she's 20 she should be at the club ‼️

One of the best sword wielders in Westeros, the author says he would pick her to defend him. Has a cool sword called Oathkeeper. Manages to go up against 7 fighters and take out most of them,. The only true knight; First off, talking about book brienne, they massacred show brienne, the show runners simply didn’t understand what she’s about.“ She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice” brienne had plenty of choice but she couldn’t leave people to die. The chivalric paradigm is rotten and corrupted, but here is Brienne, the one true knight, who isn’t even a actual knight! “knights are for killing”, but here is a knight who risks her life again and again to protect innocents! Bri IS hope, she is the light in the dark that shows that things can be better, things must be better. Fundamentally an idealist: “Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining”

Urbosa

She has a scimitar known as Scimitar of the Seven

Her signature weapon is the Scimitar of the Seven, a sword wielded by Gerudo heroes.She uses both it and lighting powers which fucks pretty hard

She’s pretty cool

#oooooh this one's hard#just tp zelda? we never get to see her fight with her sword (unpossessed)#however. in skyward sword. she's a student at the knight academy (almost certainly uses a sword)#and the reincarnation of a goddess who DEFINITELY used one (literally shown with it in the opening)#and her main weapon in hyrule warriors (non canon game like aoc) is a sword#impa is more of.... idk. knifeswoman? she never uses an actual sword i dont think#id say that urbosa is the best.#we actually see her use her sword and she's significantly older than any zelda and this specific version of impa#so yeah going STRICTLY off of 'who is the best' then that would be urbosa#im still voting for zelda though

#my psionic warriors!#vote urobosa#zelda might use a sword sometimes but face it when u imagine her she's either using light arrows...#...or magic in general#these are cool as hell but zelda isn't known for her sword#not like urobosa#and like others say impa is more of a knife lady