#why does tumblr think live will work?

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Absolutely fucking not 🤢

[madrabit]

Okay so... I might have gotten a lil boost of motivation to finish this. So please be gentle, he's sensitive ✨️🩷

[mossy-paws]

Get in the fucking biograft, Shuriken. (EVANGELION/PHIGHTING!)

(og screenshot’s/cover under text!) Why hello there to my tumblr followers, it’s been a awhile /silly

ANYWAYS!!! Guess who recently finished the EVA franchise minus the rebuilds and has been in a horrible chokehold over it, this anime ruined my life but hey at least its intro theme is nice……

Well, I wanted to draw some stuff for it! All together these pieces took exactly 48 hours and 20 minutes… with the cover-piece taking ~35(?) of those hours. These were… very, VERY time costly safe to say LOL,,, I am super, SUPER proud of how the cover came out though, everything on it was drawn, colored, rendered, edited, whatever, BY HAND stroke by stroke (as you can see below)

The text, the lineart, the shadows, the colors, the snowflakes on the bio and Shuri, EVERYTHING was done by hand, it was horribly time costly but it did come out very, VERY well in the end I would say (fun fact! I also didn’t originally have the textless version of the cover, and I had to trace all of the lineart for bio’s tophalf by just guessing what line when where and what the hell was going on /silly)

this was a very, very hard project to do all together, but it was also a really nice learning experience too, I’m happy i did it that’s for sure :3!

(og screenies + cover)

[s0fter-sin]

this is a bit of a what if scenario if soap and ghost met before the practice studio and the rest can be found on ao3!

before they ever try and workshop a routine, before their first dance, before johnny ever meets simon, price tells - orders - ghost to sit in on one of gaz’s classes.

“learn his style; see if yours meshes anywhere,” he says, wrist deep in an exploded camera and ignoring ghost’s stink eye from over in the corner. he’s gotten used to it after all these years.

he’ll have to pull out something new after this if price’s decided to sink to this level of petty.

and it is pettiness, no mistake; clearly he’s poked him too much about his boy recently.

“i’ve already seen ‘is style,” he dismisses with a disgusted scoff that’s only half put on. flashy, meaningless; the personification of viral with half the sincerity. it’s a laugh that garrick accuses him of stealing routines as if half his moves aren’t prepackaged and recycled from every plastic clout chaser before him.

“videos don’t live up to an in-person demonstration; you know that,” price chides and ghost rolls his eyes. “i’ve got a client making noises about choreography and if i can’t talk ‘em out of it, you’ll have to learn how to be in the same room without bein’ at each other’s throats.”

“they want a joint routine?” ghost demands, already going tense at just the idea of it.

“they want the best of the best,” price counters. “and unfortunately, that’s you two.”

he pulls out a part, friction-shiny and jagged where it’s rubbed against another piece, and flicks it over his shoulder to be lost in the mess of the garage. “you know, that breakdancer i showed you ‘ill probably be there.”

he raises an eyebrow but ghost doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. wily old man…

he asks about one dancer once and suddenly he’s all price wants to bloody talk about. it was professional interest; just looking into a style out of his wheelhouse and obviously it made sense to look at recent competition winners.

nothing more.

“i’m not asking you to join in,” price finally allows, pulling out a file and tapping off old shavings on the edge of the toolbox. “just watch. live up to that name of yours.”

“i got better things to do than haunt your little protégé,” he scoffs, chafing at the thought of wasting any more time on kyle garrick than he already has.

“and yet here you are, sniffin’ up my ass,” he shoots back wryly and ghost shoves off the wall; ignoring his snickers.

“play nice,” price adds but he’s already out the door.

if he asks later, he can just say he didn’t hear him.

[boysnberriespie]

“Have a spine. Don’t vote.” Ah yes, the famously hard thing to grit your teeth and do: nothing.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...

[starfieldcanvas]

for every "how dare you plan to spend money out of your entertainment budget while i, a complete stranger to you, am still poor" post i see i am buying another $3 worth of crabs

[freakied]

guys im new to tumblr but i just had a thought about pornstar!gojo that i had to share. plsss can i sit at the gojofucker table for lunch plsss ^^

pornstar!satoru who just so happens to live in the apartment next to yours. sharing a wall means you don't get to be blissfully ignorant about his profession, because he just has to be a workaholic... or sex addict if you look at it in a different light. some nights you get no sleep because of the banging of a headboard against the wall and the long drawn out moans that sound a little too real for porn. if satoru wasn't such a good neighbor (or so attractive) you'd make a noise complaint by now.

but of course you get curious one night when one of the 'co-stars' he has over is crying joyous climax. surely he's not that good, right? you don't even register your actions as you open up your laptop and search up his name.

of course you click the first link that comes up. and of course you hold your breath as the first video loads up and you find out he's a whole lot bigger than you had imagined he was. then, of course, you scold yourself for thinking about his dick size in the first place as you dip your fingers beneath the waistband of your pyjama pants to touch yourself in time to the thrusts of his cock into someone else.

you have him on full view in the video in front of you, and the sounds of him fucking some girl into her third or fourth orgasm of the night just beyond the thin walls of your apartment. but the video in front of you ends and so you click on his profile and press play on the first thing that comes up because you're horny and in need of visual stimulation.

but you realize once the video starts up that it isn't a recorded porn video, it's a livestream: a cam show. you're watching your neighbor fuck some girl stupid while you're on the other side of the decorated wall in his background fucking yourself dumb on your fingers wishing it was him.

hundreds of people are watching, too, but none of them are hearing it in real time. feeling the walls vibrate each time the headboard hits it. none of them are going to wake up in the morning and bump into him in the hallway. he'll tell you good morning and get that sheepish look on his face because he knows he's loud when he cums and you look too tired to have slept through his orgasm.

you time your climax with his. release all over your sticky fingers when he cums deep in the girl he's got pinned into a mating press beneath him. you then realize, of course, that you'll never be able to look your neighbor in the eyes ever again now that you've watched him drain his balls into someone else, and you close your laptop lid to sleep.

you swear it will never happen again.

until it does.

the next night you're sitting on your couch with your laptop open. sitting in the waiting room of his cam show, a little 'thehonoredone will be live soon!' notification lighting up your screen as you make sure your toy is charged.

when there's a knock on your door, and you get up to answer it in your horny-brain-fog state just to swing the door open to satoru gojo, who is asking if he can borrow a laptop charger because his broke and he really can't have his laptop die in the middle of his... work meeting.

and you're so bashful seeing him, especially after what you did to yourself whilst thinking of him the night prior, that you don't even think about it, you just let him in! and the man you've now seen cum ropes is stepping into your apartment just to see your laptop (and vibrator) left laying on the couch. with his camshow waiting room open.

you'd be mortified if you had the time to be. because you don't know how or why it happens, but within minutes satoru's scheduled solo show turns into a marathon sex stream. 'SEEING HOW MANY TIMES I CAN MAKE MY NEIGHBOR CUM' is streamed live to hundreds of people who are all doing what you did last night, as they watch you get folded in half and fucked mean.

the screen doesn't even do it justice. he's big and rough but gentle in a way you can't think of the words to describe because the tip of his cock keeps kissing your cervix over and over again. the hands that you've only felt once when you shook his hand in greeting are now physically holding your thighs up so he can get deeper inside of you.

you learn a few things about your neighbor that night: like how he loves it when you say his name. and how he bites when he cums, sinks his teeth into your neck or shoulder or your chest when he spills into you just to fuck it deep and keep going. he also points out to you, when he whispers low in your ear so none of his viewers can hear, that every single person he's brought over to fuck, resembles you in some way or another.

you learn that they're all so loud because he really is just that good, but also because he wanted them to be loud. he wanted you to hear them get fucked mindless so that you'd get all hot and bothered at the thought of it happening to you too!

you also learn, as he fucks you through your last orgasm (sixth, by the way), that stumbling in on you gearingup to watch his pornm wasn't a mistake. he saw your name in his audience list... plus, he heard you time your orgasm with his lat night.

the walls are thin, after all.

i made a part 2!!!!

[barreltheace]

why do we have self-driving cars but not flushable tampons

[skyburger]

best day of my life was when vimms lair let other regional versions of games be on the site u have no idea how happy i was. like yes finally i dont have to send people digging through a huge archive.org dump of DS games so they can play professor layton & not suffer thru lukes american dub voice 😭

[itsrlymine]

There is No "In Spite Of". It’s Because Of. 

“I get what I want no matter what the 3d shows me.” “I have my man in spite of what I’m seeing. Omg, did he just lick her ti-” “I don’t care what my bank account says, I have 3 trillion in it anyways.” .......

Do you realize that instead of looking at the 3d and rationalizing what you are seeing, you can just decide it instead?? When I started this page, I didn’t say “oh well even though I have 5 followers, I actually have 1200.” NO! I said b*tch I have damn near 5k kiss my ass Tumblr notifications and look at that, I do. The 3d shows you what you say she does. Stop trying to be friends and put that b*tch her in the place tf!!!! If everything is what you say it is, then say what you need to say and know it’s true now. Stop being an attention seeking wh*re and continually asking the 3d to change bc she won’t listen to you! She’s gonna hear your miserable tears and give you more shit to cry about unless you decide you are crying about how you just got the most fire pipe/pus in the world! I’m so serious. Turn that inner frown upside down so you can turn your outer world around.  This is simple and if you want to argue it’s not, you can’t be shocked you experience that. Notice how you don’t need evidence of negative things to occur before you decide on whether or not they will happen. So why is it now the opposite for what you do want? You are the one providing evidence to yourself about whether or not something will occur, not the other way around. Who you say you are dictates what is around you. At this very moment,  you can say “I’m living my best life with my partner and I’m rich asf and I have a fatass house….” And the only thing that would make that not true is whether or not you choose to argue that. Yup. It’s that simple. Decide what you are seeing. Decide what the 3d is showing you because the 3d is you. Decide. Decide. Decide.  I’m not saying to ignore your feelings or emotions, though they don’t control the outcome. I’m saying that even if you are physically feeling something, change the meaning internally. It works every time.

You can literally sit and not drive a car for an entire month and a half and decide one day you are going to start driving again. Before you get in, are you questioning yourself on whether or not you can still do it??? If before the break you knew yourself to be an excellent driver, why would one month of not doing so shake your foundation? Some people never forget how to do things because they decide they can never forget. Everything is you. If everything is now, then you’ve already done it. You’re never “out of practice,” never “starting over,” because nothing was ever lost in the first place.  There is no time working against you. It’s just you vs. you. Your perception of everything and relation to it. If you’re thinking something outside of you is outside of you, how can you be shocked you can’t reach it? When you truly know something is done, you don’t stress about it or have to take deep breaths to “regulate” your nervous system. You just know. So before you opened your window to see the sun in the morning, even as you saw sun rays or the light from the sun but not the sun itself, did you have to meditate on the fact that “omg yes, let me breathe and just remind myself that I will see the sun bc it has to show up and I am gonna see it and it’s gonna be—“ NO YOU DIDN’T. YOU JUST KNEW AND OPENED THE DAMN WINDOW. JUST KNOW AND OPEN YOUR MIND’S EYE TO THAT WHICH YOU WANT TO EXPERIENCE DAMN. How is anybody still asking if things are possible when that’s the reason way they exist? Possibilities exist because you do. You give everything life. Feeding old stories about why this and why that happened just resurrects zombies of your “past” that you don’t want to deal with so stop doing that. Stop trying to justify the 3d or accept crumbs when you should just accept yourself and the story you are telling because that is the ultimate truth. What you see, say or think inwardly IS what projects outwardly so what the fuck is going on within you? 

[meowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[theonottsbxtch]

Can we get oscar x teacher smau since school is starting over here in America?

Professor Piastri? | OP81

an: thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun with it. i had to remake this three times because tumblr kept deleting my progress 🫠. good luck with the start of school soon!

fc: pinterest

requests: open

messages between oscar and yn

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, mclaren and 983,836 others

only 34 days left 🙃

*tap to load comments*

userone: I WANT MORE B&W PHTOOS 💳💥💳💥

usertwo: what is op81 doing in a library?

landonorris: summer break is in 15 days you muppet

oscarpiastri: i know, i can count

landonorris: right and i’m world champion

userthree: i need more photographer oscar content

logansargeant: i swear it was 28 days the other day?

oscarpiastri: no ☹️

userfour: what does logan know🤨

userfive: me 🤝 oscar, both having important things in 34 days

usersix: ooh what’s yours!!

userfive: school break!

twitter

imessage between oscar and yn

ynprivate

liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 19 others

getting to see the hubby live at work 🥰

*tap to load more comments*

yourbestfriend: HOW DOES IT FEEL FHAT OSCAR PIASTRI, YOUR HUSBAND, IS NOW A GRAND PRIX WINNER

ynprivate: SHUT UP SHUT SHUT UP I CANT EVEN CELEBRATE WITH HIM

oscarpiastri: you can celebrate with me in the hotel room

logansargeant: ew get a room

oscarpiastri: i’m trying to

yourcoworker: THIS is why you didn’t want to meet up for coffee and mark papers?!

ynprivate: 😅🤭

logansargeant: my favourite secret wag i swear

ynprivate: how many secret wags do you know?

logansargeant: 🤐

twitter

f1wags

liked by userone, usertwo, userthree and 981,264 others

BREAKING‼️

the shock. the disbelief. the dismay for some. oscar piastri married?! today the world is shocked to find out that one of the grid’s most charming drivers has been secretly married for years! that’s right, married. the news was bought to us after a screenshot was leaked on twitter from yn (his wife)‘s private instagram where she was seen posting him with the caption “getting to see the hubby live at work🥰”. the woman identified as yn ln, still goes by her maiden name was a girl he met while at boarding school.

yn ln is currently a teacher in england, and the couple has managed to keep their relationship entirely under the radar. sources close to the couple reveal that they chose to keep their marriage private due to her career in education, wanting to protect her from the intense public scrutiny that comes with being associated with an f1 star (hence the reason she has kept her maiden name)

the screenshot, which shows a sweet picture of oscar looking into her camera, has sent the f1 fandom into spirals!

despite the sudden exposure, oscar and his wife have yet to comment on the leak. the secrecy surrounding around their relationship only adds to the intrigue, leaving fans and media outlets waiting with bated breath.

who is oscar piastri and what more is he hiding?

*photos credit to yn’s instagram*

oscarpiastri

liked by ynprivate, landonorris, logansargeant and 923,746 others

cats out the bag now, mrs piastri everyone. only 11 more days until her summer break!

*tap to load more comments*

userone: that’s what the countdown was about 🥹

usertwo: oh hell nawh they both hot

userthree: how long have they been together what?!

logansargeant: married for two years but together for much longer, i’ve known since 2019☺️

landonorris: oscar we are NOT friends

oscarpiastri: i am sorry, i had to respect the mrs’ wishes

landonorris: LOGAN HAS KNOWN FOR SIX YEARS THAT YOU HAD A PARTNER

landonorris: i was low-key starting to think you were gay mate

ynprivate: i’m so sorry!! i just didn’t want work and private life to get mixed up

landonorris: i guess i can somewhat forgive him

ynprivate: yay! maybe we can meet for coffee to get to know you better, osc talks so much about you :)

landonorris: he talks about me 🥹

userfour: i think they broke the internet for good this time

userfive: helpppp lando in the comments 😭😭

usersix: imagine your teacher being oscar piastri’s WIFE

userseven: i hope nicole didn’t find out through instagram

nicolepiastri: no, but i did find out he got engaged three weeks after it happened!

alex_albon: @/landonorris take this L and hold it you dweeb

landonorris: 🖕🖕

[miedei]

on neurotransmitters and receiving pleasure.

you can't sleep, and spencer takes it upon himself to explain (and enact) how he can help.

cw: fem!reader, established relationship, smut, fingering, lots and lots of hormone talk, slighttt overstim, spencer is hot and gets blue balls but he's too obsessed w you to care

a/n: taking a class that involves a lot of memorising hormones and was thinking about spencer explaining it <33 im also just a sucker for intimate sleepy smut sue me, first proper smut fic!

wc: 2.2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Dating Spencer Reid has been decidedly wonderful. He’s sweet, and above all else, attentive. Only a few months into your relationship, he’s somehow learned more about you than you thought was possible, putting that knowledge to good use.

It began with simple things like knowing your coffee order by heart, and remembering the names of your family members after you brought them up. However, it quickly became far deeper than that. He would be bringing oranges to your apartment when you’d gone through a stretch of cold after cold, making sure you don’t run out of the very specific brand of candles you like. You name it, he’s learned it and utilised it for you.

However, a side effect of his perceptive actions is that you feel horribly guilty about taking up too much of his time. He’s so busy, his job and friends and mother are so important to him, that you’re loath to take him away from the things he loves. As a result, you find yourself falling into the insecure trap of making yourself as little a burden as possible, trying to ensure that the things he does for you are because he wants to, not because you need him to. 

That’s part of what’s led you here, laying next to him in his far-too-comfortable bed, wide awake. 

By all accounts, you should be fast asleep at this point. It’s nearing two am, the curtains drawn so there’s only a soft glow of moonlight coming into the room. Spencer’s left arm is laid over your middle, fingers twitching occasionally to stroke the skin exposed by your (his) shirt riding up. You’re set up for the perfect night of sleep with your perfect boyfriend, but for some reason your mind will not shut up.

Your thoughts are racing from place to place, flitting around like an overexcited butterfly. The interaction you had at the local cafe this morning, the project you’re working on at work, the movie you watched with Spencer a few hours ago, the comfort of the heat radiating from his body. 

Letting a soft grumble of frustration escape your lips, you shift, turning to press your back against Spencer’s chest in a vain attempt to use his body warmth to lull you to sleep. Instead, you wind up thinking about him. Him and his pretty eyes, his lips, his hands, one of which is now resting over your stomach. 

Great. Now you’re never falling asleep. 

You decide to call it, wracking your brain on how to get out of his hold so you can at least wallow in your self pity in the living room without waking him up. Slowly shuffling out from under his arm seems to be the best option, at least to your sleep-deprived brain.

Slowly inching over the mattress, his hand drags over your skin, the slackness of his body allowing you to maneuver yourself halfway out of his grip, when suddenly his hand comes to life, fingers digging softly into your stomach.

“Wh’s going on?” His voice is deeper than it ever is, a slight rasp rattling through his slurred words, which only serves to wake you up further. 

You cringe internally, bringing a hand up to cover his. 

“Nothing, Spence. Just going into the living room.” He lets out a sleepy groan, attaching himself solidly to your back so there’s no chance of you leaving.

“Why? What happened?” His voice is slowly becoming more clear, lucidity returning to him quicker than you can attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 

“I’m fine, nothing happened. Just couldn’t fall asleep, is all.”

He hums softly, the vibrations reverberating against the back of your head. You can feel him waking up, lips moving against your hair.

“What’s wrong? Can’t stop thinking?” You bite back a groan. Of course he knows what’s wrong, even minutes after waking up. Turning in his arms, you bury your face in his chest, mumbling a plaintive yeah. 

His hand comes up to play with your hair, the soothing feeling bringing a sense of calm you haven’t had in hours.

“What have you tried? Maybe not counting sheep, because a study at Oxford proved that to be unhelpful, but visualising calm scenes apparently helps.” You shake your head, face still pressed against his sternum.

“Tried it. Didn’t work.” 

He lets out a small, reassuring sound that sends shivers down your spine. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

You lay there for a while, but sleep never comes to take you. You’re sure he must be sleepy, but he stays awake, speaking after a long fifteen minutes of silence.

“Hey… Do you want my help?”

Poking your head up to see his face, you question him. 

“Help me sleep? How’re you going to do that?” He tilts his head down, and you can just make out the brown of his eyes as he looks at you.

“Orgasms have been proven to be very effective in putting someone to sleep. Y’want me to?” He speaks casually, as if he’s not suggesting anything out of the ordinary. You, however, lose all composure, flushing immediately.

“Spence, I— You’re tired.” He tilts his head to the side, and you observe his eyes sharpen in that unexplainable way they do whenever you’re especially intimate with each other.

“I’m not too tired. Not for you.” It’s like he wants you to melt for him. You can’t help but duck your head, a mortified squeak escaping your lips. He chuckles quietly, hand smoothing the hair at the back of your head as he waits for you to reply.

It takes a few minutes for you to pipe up.

“Do you… Does it really help?” 

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“It should. I can explain it to you while I do, if you want.” It takes a beat, but you’re nodding, craning your head up so you can kiss him. 

“Okay, baby. Lay back for me? The supine position should make it easier for you, and it’s the best way for you to sleep after if you don’t want neck pain.”

As he speaks, his hand shifts, gripping your waist softly as he helps you lay back against the pillows. He props himself up with an elbow, so he’s hovering slightly next to you. His hand smooths down the fabric of your pyjama top, rubbing soft circles against your stomach with his thumb.

“Sleep deprivation can be caused by a lot of things. Stress, changes in schedules, intake of caffeine.” It shouldn’t be attractive. It really shouldn’t, but you can’t help but let out a shuddering sigh as he speaks, kissing your neck between words. His lips are soft, moulding to the sensitive skin there with reverence that makes you giddy.

His hand begins to move, tracing its way down your front, past your pelvis until it settles on your thigh. There it stays, making broad, sweeping motions on your upper thigh that make you want to squirm. 

“Spence…”

He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to the column of your throat before pulling back so he can look at you.

“I’m going to get there, don’t worry.” 

You curse at him in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to make a sound at the moment. Not when his hand is moving dangerously close to the hem of your shorts. 

At first contact with the linen material, he pauses the motions, lingering there to play with the fabric. Bending your neck, you watch him, enraptured by the minute movements of his nimble fingers, skin hardened by years of holding his gun. Even the sight of it has you sighing, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

The air is thick around you as he slips his hand under the fabric, softly kneading at your inner thighs, only centimetres away from where you need him most. Your hips move without your go ahead, arching down in an attempt to get him closer. The movement doesn’t do anything to get him there, but it clearly causes him to take pity on you. 

A smile breaks out on his lips, and he kisses your jaw once before letting his fingers trail up to your core. You flush at the feeling of your wetness on his hand, but he lets out a soft groan, eyes trained down at the bulge of his hand under your shorts. 

“Oh, angel…” 

You can’t reply, shuddering breaths racking through your body as his fingers trace up and down your drooling slit. It’s overwhelming, the teasing glimpses of pleasure rolling over you until all you can perceive is him. 

“You know, sleep deprivation can lead to things like loss of libido. Your circadian rhythms are actually really important to keeping your sex drive steady.” 

His middle finger trails up, brushing soft touches against your clit, and you arch your back in response, a soft moan pulling itself from the back of your throat.

“It can be a bit of a vicious cycle, loss of sleep and loss of sex drive. But getting yourself back on track can help with both aspects of your life.”

He moves away from your clit, eliciting a whine that has him kissing your chin in apology. It’s quickly forgotten when the slick-covered digit is slipping into you, the sudden fullness making you squirm against the sheets. 

It’s slow, his finger thrusting lazily into you as you pant into the room. Your hands grapple for purchase in the sheets beneath you, your left brushing his free hand. Snatching it up, he helps you stay afloat as the heat bubbles up inside you.

“Arousal and orgasms induce release of the hormones dopamine and oxytocin. Dopamine is received at different receptors in your body, making you feel comfortable and happy. It’s strongly connected to our reward systems.”

His hand not currently occupied with you brings your hand up to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm as his thumb seeks out your clit, swiping over the sensitive point with practiced precision. It causes you to let out a low, keening moan that encourages him further, his voice gravelly as he continues to speak.

“Oxytocin is released into your bloodstream by the pituitary gland, and is linked with our feelings of love. It’s part of what binds us to our loved ones. It’s controlled by a positive feedback loop, so the more you feel pleasure from it and other stimulants, just like that, the more that’s released.” He pauses to watch you contort with rapture, hips bucking against him as he inserts another finger into you. 

You can’t see him, eyes screwed shut with pleasure, but you can imagine him well enough. 

His eyes are still hazy with sleepiness, but the glaze of adoration that settles over him whenever he has you like this is surely there too. His hair is messy, falling all over him, but you know he won’t do anything about it, too focused on the task at hand. 

“An orgasm will also lower your cortisol levels. That means that you’ll feel less stressed and preoccupied, which should help you sleep.”

You feel a little insane, his low voice sending you hurtling towards greater pleasure. It seems it doesn’t matter what he’s saying, whenever Spencer speaks to you like that, you can’t help but be putty in his hands. 

He falls silent now, kissing you once before fixing his intent gaze on you, and you know he’s determined to get you there. His thumb is perfectly synchronized with the two fingers still moving steadily in and out of you, a routine he’s perfected over countless moments just like this one. 

He knows steadiness is what gets you over that last hurdle. His hand never falters, the feeling of his calloused fingers dragging against the most intimate parts of your body causing you to puff out shallow gasps. You feel like you’re floating, the feelings so overwhelming that you barely register the feeling of the sheets rustling under your body. 

It keeps going, going, going until it happens. One final circle of his thumb against your clit and you fall apart, a cry of his name ringing out in the silence of the room. He doesn’t let up, fingers thrusting lazily in you until you’re whimpering, pushing his forearm with weak hands. 

Pulling his hand out of your shorts, he leans over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue to clean his fingers. Once done, he settles back next to you, pulling the covers snugly under your chin and pulling you toward him. One of his arms lays under your neck, letting you nose into his side and exhale softly.

He’s saying something, voice velvety and comforting, but you can’t register any of it. The chemicals in your brain are swirling pleasantly, and you’re asleep before you can even think about it.

[dashcon-two]

Fundraising for the Canadian Cancer Society

[ALT: A screenshot of the fundraising page for the Canadian cancer society, featuring the DashCon 2 logo]

Hey y’all! 

I’m Avis, the co-founder of DashCon 2, and I’d like to write something a bit more personal than our updates usually get. I want to start off with a huge thank you to all of you, from our mailing list to our tumblr followers. It’s genuinely insane that so many of you wanted tickets that you crashed Simpli Events and sold out 550 tickets in less than 20 minutes. Simone and I initially conceptualized DashCon 2 as a 300-person event, so we’re utterly blown away by just how much attention we’ve received.

Honestly, planning and expanding DashCon has been wild. We’ve always been a small, tight-knit team, and I’m really proud of just how far we’ve gotten. Especially because I almost left the project just a few months into planning.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer last August, and it threw a lot of my plans into uncertainty. It wasn’t the first time she’d battled cancer, and I know too well how hard it is to focus on anything in the face of the inescapable terror of losing her. This is why it means so much to me to announce that DashCon 2 is running a fundraiser for the Canadian Cancer Society. You can donate to our fundraiser at https://fundraisemyway.cancer.ca/campaign/dashcontwo. All donations from this page go directly to them, we couldn’t use any of it if we wanted to.

Thankfully, my mom is now once again cancer-free, but that doesn’t erase the many ways cancer has impacted my family, and the families of many people on the team. Nearly half of all Canadians can expect to be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime, and the Canadian Cancer Society does incredible work to fund research that actively improves the lives of cancer patients. My mom is probably the strongest, coolest, and kindest woman I know, and the Canadian Cancer Society’s work is part of why she’s still alive. 

Please, if you couldn’t get a ticket, or if you think we’re a scam and didn’t bother, give the Canadian Cancer Society any money you would’ve given us. We’ll be auctioning off merch, ball pit balls, and more in an official raffle, but we encourage you to give directly if you can. Given that our venue fees are paid, we can’t think of a better use for seventeen thousand dollars. DashCon 2 wouldn't be happening without our community's immense outpour of love and support, and we consider it our responsibility to pay it forward.

Moving onto somewhat lighter matters, unfortunately, we won’t be selling any more in-person tickets for DashCon 2. We’ve always wanted DashCon 2 to be a local convention first, and despite all the attention we received, we had trouble gauging how well our following would translate to actual attendance numbers. I’m really sorry that so many of you couldn’t get a ticket, but for now we want to focus on making sure that we run a fun, safe, and accessible event for 500 people before we move to a larger venue. 

However, all hope is not lost! We’ve thrown ourselves into expanding our plans for virtual DashCon 2! We promise we’ll start selling tickets soon, but for now I can tell you that we’re planning to run a great selection of virtual panels, stream some of the larger in person-panels, and maybe even stream a duel (if such a thing occurs). A portion of all virtual ticket sales will be donated to the Canadian Cancer Society. 

Thank you once again for all your support. Again, you can find our fundraiser at https://fundraisemyway.cancer.ca/campaign/dashcontwo. 

Thanks for everything,

Avis | DashCon 2 Co-Founder

[spoiledcarmen]

Crimson Moon

Pair: Batfamily x neglected!reader

tags: Child n3glect, Angst/No comfort, Hurt/No comfort, teens doing drgs, maladaptive dreaming, dead dove: do not eat, does this count as dddne??, MC is biological daughter of Bruce Wayne, No use of Y/N, Gotham Academy, made up characters, OOC canon characters.

summary: Basically the Wayne/Bat family but reader is Bruce Wayne’s daughter who doesn’t know they’re all vigilantes and they sorta neglect her since she’s not very important in their lives.

chapter: The Beginning Of Our End. (1/?)

authors note: This was my first work, i started uploading fics on Tumblr a few weeks ago, im doing so well!! this is also my most popular fic on ao3, so i hope Tumblr likes it as well!

PT.1 - (you can read the rest of the parts on ao3 while i publish the rest on here.)

14 years ago, Bruce had made a decision he would come to regret. on valentine’s day him and unknown woman appeared to be lingering around each other at a club. he would soon make an irrotational choice. with him chugging one drink after another that she kept bringing over to him and his table, his standards have dropped low enough for him to ask for something else, maybe something to eat. she said “it’ll cost ya.” in a hefty Gotham accent. he laughed and replied drunkenly and sloppy “oh really?”, her sensing she could make bank off of this obviously wasted billionaire, she played sultry. he gave her a stack of hundreds, its only natural that’s all he carries? after that, off to a room they went.

forward to November 14th you were born. 3 days later you were in a basket with a blanket over you with a note that stated your name with his last name, and date of birth. in messy handwriting at the bottom left corner it said, “your daughter.” as Alfred opened the door and saw you, he immediately brought you in inside before he read the note, and once he did he urgently called over Bruce, not wanting to alert the others. Bruce’s immediate reaction to reading the note was “shit… well i don’t doubt she’s mine. i remember that night like he was yesterday.” he rubs his forehead as a sign of stress and in deep thought. however once his gaze dropped down to you, peacefully sleeping in the warm environment of the manor, he knew he couldn’t help but take you in.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

when people thought of “Wayne”, they thought class, elegance, and power. and apparently you were exactly that, Since the moment you were born everyone thought of you as this radiating light of eternal beauty, a symbol of hope. whereas your father thought of it as a fresh start. Bruce has obviously fucked up with all of his other kids, so why not just do the opposite with this one? no becoming robin, no training, not being dragged into the whole vigilante world. just a normal kid. being Bruce’s biological kid had a lot of perks, like his last name and just a lot of money in general. the last name ‘Wayne’ itself, brought you a lot of social power. you liked it, it gave you what you didn’t have at home. Attention. something you severely lacked. the fact that nobody noticed with you being in front of a camera all the time is crazy, from the difficulty of staying on a simple task to unintentionally interrupting conversations to being easily distracted.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

which now brings you to the present. always wondering where everyone went at night, always wondering why nobody wanted to sit around by you, always wondering why everyone was careful around you, always wondering why.. not even your father gives you attention, why would your family? you’re not special. you’ve never been special. other than being somewhat pretty enough to put you on the cover of a beauty magazine and not a news paper,smart enough to get above passing, but you’re not very special. in your room in bed, late at night, you always hear chatter. you seem to think there’s a party you haven’t been invited to which is nearly impossible, who wouldn’t want you around? but every time you go downstairs, no one is there, was it your imagination?

no it can’t be.. you can still clearly hear them. you can hear Damian making another snarky comment, Richard laughing with Babs, you can almost hear Jason shuffling around the room with Alfred asking if anyone needed anything. so where could they be? hiding? from you? not impossible. but how could they be hiding but their voices being this clear? after a while of looking you decide to just go back to bed, maybe you’re just tired from today, even if you didn’t really do much.. you get back into bed, yet you can’t shake off this feeling, it feels like a hole in your stomach, feeling like you’re missing out on something. nevertheless you decide to just swallow the feeling and push it down to try and sleep for school tomorrow.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you wake up but your vision is very blurry, hazy, weak. you try to rub it out of your eyesight but it doesn’t work, the harder you rub the darker your vision becomes, soon enough it’s pitch black. you open your eyes to see a large moon, with crimson red around the edges, ‘crimson… moon?..’ you think, your eyes are fixated on it. you can’t seem to move. you look down and see a hand reaching out to you, it’s luring you to grab it, to reach back to it, to hold it. you want to but you simply cannot move. you look back up at the moon, it’s craters seem to be eyes staring back at you, yet they don’t blink, they cannot blink, you cannot blink, however you still try, you know you can’t do it regardless you still try. and you succeed, you blink.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you truly awaken from your nightmare and wake up out of breath. like you just ran a marathon, you rush to the bathroom and go and wash your face, you watch yourself in the mirror, making sure that you are still you. everything checks out and you continue with your morning routine, shower, brush your teeth, skincare, makeup. by the time you’ve finished your routine you’re already late to breakfast, you rush to get your uniform on, you take one last look in the mirror at yourself and see your uniform that says “Gotham Academy” on its stupid logo. you sigh, having to dread putting it on everyday.

you rush downstairs to see only Alfred, “Where’s Damian? doesn’t he have school too?” you say sarcastically, Damian gets to skip if he’s feeling tired or just bored of school, but apparently you can’t. Alfred replies “Master Damian is a bit under the weather, excuse him from breakfast this morning.” you’ll excuse him, you always will. you ask your final question of the day, “And where’s father? and the others?”, Alfred sighs and replies “Master Bruce has already left for work, as for the others, i’m pretty sure a few of them are sleeping in. ‘Checks out.’ you think, you nod and take your sandwich to go, rather to eat it on the car ride there. the car ride to school was awfully quiet, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your sandwich wrapper, not even the radio was turned on, you’ve forgotten your headphones so what a joy this car ride has been. shortly after, Alfred announces you’ve arrived, you get out of the car and throw the sandwich wrapper in a nearby bin as you wave him goodbye, you watch him drive off and heavily sigh.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

your entire demeanor changes as soon as Alfred drives off, after all you’ve got an image to maintain. you’re all sunshine and rainbows as you walk up to your group of friends, all of them as happy as you are, they greet you one by one. after a while of chitchatting about nothing really important, the bell rings, everyone whines about having to go to class, “Well, we do still have lunch and that party after school?” you reassure them. “are you sure you’re coming? last time you cancelled last minute.” one says and another nods. you furrow your eyebrows and try not to roll your eyes, “i’m sure. i won’t cancel this time.” you say, none of them know you had to leave because you were just overwhelmed by the peer pressure of vaping or whatever is cool now.

you and another one of your friends, Heather, decide to stop wasting time and go to class, Heather asks “Where’s your brother?” you take a deep breath, not even wanting to utter his name, “Damian’s sick.”, She replies “Oh really? i was hoping i’d see him today.” she seems rather bummed out hes not here. You raise an eyebrow and decide to press for more, “huh.. why’s that?”, you’re pretty sure she likes him, but you don’t wanna get the wrong impression. “i wanted to talk to him about something..” she says with a slight smile on your face, you swear you could see her blush. “about what? i’ll tell him when i get home.” you smirk at her as you both walk into class, “oh nothing! i’ll just tell him tomorrow.” she rushes to her seat, you try to keep up with her.

you take off your backpack and get out your pencil case and notebooks as you remind her, “you know tomorrow is Saturday? right?”, she laughs it off nervously and spits out “yeah totally! just slipped my mind!”, you side eye her and think ‘who does she think she’s fooling?’ however you brush it off and go on with your day. the rest of this class was pretty tame, you muted out whatever the teacher was saying and just thought about your dream, you were debating on telling Heather but she was one of those freaks who thought every dream had a meaning, and if you did ask her she could just make you more nervous about it. you awaken from your trance and see the board covered in writing from top to bottom, you stare at Heather wondering why she didn’t tell you. you immediately pick up a pencil and start writing.

as soon as you finish writing the bell rings once more, you instantly pack up your things and rush out of there, a few people try to talk to you however you were too fast. you go to the locker you didn’t have a chance to go to in the morning and take put some books in and take some out, you check what class you have next and it’s biology. You and Heather basically have the same schedule so you tap her on the shoulder, “Wanna skip the rest of the day?” you ask nonchalantly, “Sure, but how’ll we get out of here?” she replies as she closes her locker door, “don’t worry, i’ve got an idea.” you smile as you grab her hand and run out to the courtyard, “and what now? we’re surrounded by concrete.” she says snarkily. “just wait! we have to go to the classroom that’s on the left and just sneak out the window. it’s empty, nobody has computer until forth period.” you hold her hand tighter as you run to the classroom together. “we have to be fast before someone sees us!” you say, she replies as she scoffs “no shit Sherlock..”

you enter the classroom and make her hold your bookbag as you struggle to get out through the window, nevertheless you do it. “see! come on!” you take your bag and her bag as you encourage her to come towards you. “you Wayne’s are amazing. it almost makes up for the fact you don’t give anyone attention.” she says with a laugh as she goes through the window. you scoff when you get referred to as a Wayne, you are one but.. you don’t like to get mixed up with them, you’re a different category of Wayne, you enjoy the spotlight, much more forced into it.. yet you brush it off and say, “well.. i certainly give people attention. i don’t know about the others.”

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you both walk the streets of Gotham with your backpacks on your back and strange looks on you, Heather says “why is everyone looking at us weird..”, “because we’re supposed to be in school, genius.” you snap back. “Oh! Oh! we should go explore!” she says enthusiastically as she points to Arkham Asylum. you stare at it as you wonder how it’s a miracle no kids have been snatched from the school and taken there yet, or maybe they have and you just don’t know about it. nevertheless you reply to her and scold her, “No! what the actual fuck are you thinking! no way in hell im going in there or letting you go in there!”, “you’re so lame..” she says as she walks past the asylum with pouted lips, you roll your eyes and say “i’d rather be lame and alive than cool and dead.”

you see she’s pretty upset about being scolded so you suggest you both go get some food and ice cream to pass the time. her mood instantly gets better as she grabs your hand and rushes to the nearest fast food place, “okay okay!” you say as you try to keep up with her running. once you get there she says “you’ll pay obviously.” you roll your eyes playfully and agree. the place is pretty empty since everyone is either at school or work, you both get to the cashier and the cashier says, “aren’t you girls supposed to be in school?”, Heather stares at you and raises her eyebrow at you, which basically means ‘say something!’ you look back at the cashier and say “do you want or business or not. if so we’ll both have a small chicken sandwich with fries and diet coke.”, the cashier nods reasonably and takes your order and hands you the card reader, you pay and Heather hugs you by your shoulder. “alright get off now.”, you tell her off as you aren’t a very affectionate person.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

she sits down at a table while you wait to get your food, the place is empty, why on earth are they taking so long?… after a while of waiting you finally get your food and go to your table. Heather immediately takes her food before you even set the tray down, you just roll your eyes and sit down to enjoy your food. “are you seriously going to the party later?” she says with her mouth full of food, you raise an eyebrow and say hesitantly, “of course i am, why are you asking?”, she shrugs and replies “ehhh.. i haven’t seen you go to a party in a while”, you laugh and reassure her once again “dont worry. i’m going and i’m going to be one hell of a party animal.”