#and it isn't a sudden thing it's very likely something that has built over the years given the life he has lived

[arthursfuckinghat]

"I was gonna say you're like a son to me.. but you're more than that."

"It ain't that complicated!"

How quickly that shoulder pat of comfort turned into a condescending one.

#he makes me feel so emo #this life was never meant for you but your fate was forced #the way dutch (and hosea) talks to arthur like he's stupid will never sit right with me #like they've been by his side over 20 years they KNOW he isn't stupid because if he was he would have been gone a long time ago #not only is arthur incredibly emotionally smart but he's a trained conman vault breaker gunslinger horse rider you name it #the fact that his own adoptive parents break him down like that hurts #it's a manipulation tactic on dutch's end - break your victims self esteem to make them chase your praise and approval #hosea I believe has just gone along with that kind of attitude but in a different way he just likes to jest lightheartedly #arthur doesn't see the difference though and it's understandable but he takes it to heart #the worst part is that hosea sees through his tough guy act and has called arthur out on it #his act is a defence mechanism to protect himself from being too vulnerable - in arthur's mind #and it isn't a sudden thing it's very likely something that has built over the years given the life he has lived #and hosea notices he knows this #but they still jab at arthur #oh it hurts #is he your son dutch? or is he your guard dog? your personal workhorse? #playing through the second time is opening my eyes more and more #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #mick rants #mick gifs #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #liveblogging #you guys gotta understand - arthur seeks and longs for dutch's approval he'll never say it but it's the key motive behind his loyalty #and arthur *rejects* dutch's comfort #he doesn't *want* dutch to pat him on the shoulder because he knows dutch is digging them an even deeper hole #he doesn't want that touch he craves #it's so insanely monumental for such a small scene because it shows us how arthur feels without telling us

[woso-dreamzzz]

Jealous

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille's a little jealous

Pernille wouldn't call herself a jealous person. She's never really wanted what others had. She's never looked at something someone has had and desperately wanted it for herself.

Similarly, she's never had a problem with people looking at Magda. She's never had a problem with fans fawning over her or some girl trying to dance with her at a club.

Pernille knows Magda loves her. She knows that Magda would never stray. They have you together. They've built a family together.

Pernille knows that you and her are the most important things in Magda's life.

Which is why it's strange that she's feeling jealous right now.

She'd just come in from training, hair slightly damp from the sudden rain shower that appeared and feeling glad she had sent you inside with Magda earlier.

Magda had cut her own session short after feeling a twinge in her ankle so went in to get it taped as a precaution.

The physio's office is where Pernille finds you and her now.

Magda's sitting in one of the beds, leg stretched outwards as one of the new physios massages her leg despite it being an ankle injury that sent her indoors.

You're in her lap and Magda's desperately trying to braid your hair back from where it's escaped from your hair tie.

She's not doing very well. Usually, she'll just throw it up into a ponytail and call it a day but Pernille thinks it's nice that Magda's trying so hard to give you a hairstyle that you'll really like.

It's a brief thought though as Pernille's eyes focus on the young physio.

She's talking to you in particular, nodding along as you babble about what you did last night and how Magda read your bedtime story and how you slept in her newest Sweden jersey.

The physio smiles at you before glancing up at Magda. "You're feeling really tight there, Mags. Really having to use all my strength here."

It's a blatant attempt at flirting as the physio bats her eyes a few times before letting out a groan of effort that could easily be sexual.

It makes Pernille's blood boil. One, because it's very obvious that she and Magda are together and two, that this new physio is using you to try and worm her way into Magda's heart.

She's fawning and cooing over you and Magda (poor, sweet, oblivious Magda) can't even tell.

That's the other annoying bit. Magda has no clue she's being flirted with and that really pisses Pernille off. It's not the first time something like this has happened before either.

Magda never knew when a girl was flirting with her. She never knew until they attempted to kiss her and Pernille had hoped that the years would have made Magda more aware of it happening but clearly not.

The physio giggles again and it takes everything in Pernille not to snap at her.

Instead, she plucks you off Magda's lap without saying anything, adjusting you so you're on her hip.

"I'm taking her home," She says, trying not to lose her temper as the physio inches her hands further up Magda's leg," The rain isn't going to let up anytime soon. Practice is postponed."

"Give me a few minutes," Magda says," We're nearly done here."

The physio pouts and it sends another bolt of anger down Pernille's spine. She doesn't like the way her hand it still on Magda's leg. It's inappropriate for work.

If Magda needs her leg massaged then Pernille would be happy to do it herself at home.

"I need to grab my bag." She says instead," If you're not by the car in five minutes then I'm leaving without you."

Momma walks off without Morsa, who scrambles away from the weird lady who was touching her.

You frown.

Momma doesn't talk to Morsa like that, all angry and annoyed. It's strange.

"Momma," You say as Momma grabs her bag and makes her way out to the car," Why's Morsa not coming with?"

Momma's jaw is clenched. You can tell.

"That's your Morsa's choice," Momma tells you as she straps you into your seat.

She slides into her chair just as Morsa comes running out the building.

She tries to open the passenger door but can't.

Momma's locked it.

"Pernille!" Magda bangs on the window. "Pernille, come on! I'm here!"

"You're late."

"I was just talking to Elizab-"

"Elizabeth!" Pernille snaps and your head ping pongs between them," Well, why don't you go back to talking to Elizabeth while you wait for your taxi to turn up!"

"Pernille! Really? Are we really going to argue right now? I don't even know what I've done wrong!"

"Then you've got lots of time on the trip home to work it out!"

Magda is silent for a while before it all seems to dawn on her. "Is this really about Elizabeth? Pernille-"

"You better not be about to tell me that it's all in my head! Her hands were way too high up to be a massage. In front of Princesse as well! In front of our child!"

"Let me in!" Magda says," I promise that I didn't realise! I thought she was just being helpful."

Pernille draws in a long breath. She knows that she's being irrational but sometimes these things just creep up on her.

She unlocks the car and Magda slips in.

"Hi, Morsa!" you chirp and she looks back to look at you.

"Hi, Princesse."

"Why'd Momma lock you out?"

Magda almost laughs as Pernille's hands clench around the steering wheel, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to drive home.

"Well, I'm a little silly sometimes. Do you know what flirting is?"

You nod. "Like how Sam's girlfriend makes her feel all giggly and silly by talking to her."

"Exactly like that," Magda laughs," Well, Elizabeth was trying to flirt with me but I'm silly so I didn't notice."

"Oh," You say," That's bad because you're with Momma."

"That's right so that upset Momma a little bit," Magda continues," And when I didn't react to her flirting, she tried touching me to see if I was interested."

You frown. "Is that why she offered you the massage even though you hurt your ankle and not your knee?"

"That's-"

"She asked about it in front of Princesse?!" Pernille demands before this whole situation becomes a bit too funny for her liking. "And you didn't realise, Magda? God, how oblivious are you?"

Magda's cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Well," She says," I know you like me hot and oblivious. That way no one can take me from you."

Pernille full on laughs. "As if you would let yourself be taken."

"And Momma didn't like her touching you either?" You ask, your mind still trying to work out what has just happened.

"I didn't like it at all," Pernille says," And I was very annoyed that your Morsa let it happen."

The car is silent for a few minutes as you turn it over in your head before calling for Magda's attention again.

"You should tell Elizabeth that Momma will beat her up if she tries it again!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Making Him my Houseboy

This is Rod, my boyfriend. I was head over heels for the bodybuilder when we started going out...but that all changed when he moved in. Now, it's painfully obvious that he's just using me for a free room and beer.

Rod refuses to get a job. He insists that he needs the time to work out, but I've only ever seen him lounge around the house while I pay the bills. He barely even bothers to thank me for all the cooking or cleaning I do for him. It's like I'm his goddamn maid or something!

The first thing he says to me when I walk through the door is "Grab me a beer?" before holding out his palm expectantly.

He's a selfish partner, but Rod has no clue who he's dating. If he knew he was in a relationship with a warlock, I'm sure he'd treat me with more respect. I've got a lot of power, and I can easily fix his faults. I'm determined to turn him into real husband material.

Rod is going to have to change, a lot.

After reviewing some ancient manuscripts, I notice a spell that will supposedly make him into the "ideal household partner." The text seems a little vague, but it's worth a shot.

During my lunch break, I lock my office door and begin the ritual as the book describes. It doesn't take long to complete, but I have to wait until the workday is over before I can go home and see if Rod changed.

Stepping through the door after a long day at work, I immediately check the couch, but Rod isn't there. Looking into the home gym, I notice it's empty too. Those are the only two places I've ever found him.

"Babe, I'm home!" I call warily into the house, "Where are you at?"

"In the kitchen, babe!" his deep voice announces.

The joy in his voice throws me off. Nothing about the way he speaks sounds like my boyfriend. Rod hates using pet names, and he never set foot in that kitchen.

I nervously step towards the voice, and what I see in there almost gives me a heart attack!

Rod, my hyper-muscular and annoyingly masculine boyfriend has my frilly cooking apron on his built frame. I've never seen him smile with his teeth and yet his face beams with joy when I come in.

"Welcome home, honey. How was your day?"

This is already the most conversation we've had in a week. He's not the talkative type at all. He's not really the type to do anything other than pump iron, drink beer, and occasionally mess around in bed.

"It was good," I manage to say, "What have you been up to?"

"Well," my boyfriend chuckles, "This pie is for you, honey. I know how much you like it, and it's fresh from the oven. I just finished cleaning up the kitchen. It was a huge mess."

"Oh, so, you clean now too?" I gasp.

"What are you saying?" he playfully chides me, "Of course I do, babe. You deserve to come home to a clean house after a long day. Now, give me a kiss."

"Ok," I breath before stumbling his way.

Rod pulls off his rubber gloves and catches me before I fall into him, pulling me into a sweet peck on the lips. I sink into his arms, feeling his hard pecs beneath the apron.

The old Rod never kissed me unless he wanted something, but This Rod is clearly different. That spell was very effective.

"You must be tired, babe," he purrs into my ear, "Get comfortable. There's snacks in the living room, and I'll make you a drink."

I stumble to the couch and sink into the spot where I normally find Rod. This transformation has been hot, but I still have whiplash from all the sudden changes in him.

"Tell me about your day, honey!" he insists as he pours out my favorite wine.

"It was the usual 9 to 5: nothing special," I explain, "But it was payday, so that was nice."

I have no idea how to talk about myself, let alone my work. It's not like Rod ever used to ask me about either of those two things.

"I'm sure it was exhausting," Rod smiles as he delivers my drink, "You know, I'm so lucky to have you. You're going to be a big-shot one day, and I'll be right behind you like always."

The comforting words are so unlike him, but it's s turning me on to see him leaning into a new role as my submissive housewife. I'm really starting to like this house-broken Rod.

"Enough about me," I say, "Tell me about your day, sugar tits."

Rod's normally stoic face actually blushes at my comment. He'd never been this bashful.

"Let me grab the laundry while I do," he sings back in baritone, "I need to finish ironing your clothes for work tomorrow."

Rod swiftly lumbers off to the washer and dryer in the back of the house. I doubt he even knew where those things were this morning, let alone how to use them, but he returns with a basket of my shirts and underwear, setting up the ironing board like he'd done it a thousand times.

"It's a little embarrassing but I was pretty lazy this morning. I mostly laid on the couch and drank some beers, but around lunch time I had this insane boost in energy," he explains as he presses my shirt.

"Really?" I feign cluelessness.

"Yeah, it was the craziest thing," he adds with a bright smile, "I just had so much motivation all of the sudden, so I tossed the beer out, got dressed and did some grocery shopping."

"You went grocery shopping?" I snicker.

"Yeah, I had no idea where anything was, but I got the stuff on the list plus some extra for the pie."

"I didn't know you could make a pie."

"Me neither!" he threw his hands up in surprise.

"That's a productive afternoon, babe," I praise.

"It was, babe," he smiles back lovingly, "I'll get started on dinner in an hour or two, if that's ok. I'd like to hit the gym still tonight. I've got to push myself to keep this body looking good for you."

Rod flexes an already massive arm. He had never been one to show off, but I liked the idea of him wanting to look his best for me, like a good trophy husband should.

"That's alright, babe," I reply, sinking further into the couch, "But I am getting hungry over here."

"I'll speed up," he promises, quietly focusing on folding the rest of my dress shirts, "All the housework is just about done so after dinner, I'll be all yours."

"That's how I like it," I chuckle.

Rod is the perfect house-husband now, and we are finally equally devoted to each other. I can't wait to get him out of that apron after we eat. He's never let me top before, but I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot more of that from now on.

#gay hypnosis #male transformation #servant #gay mind control #houseboy

[likegoldintheair]

Will reaches out then, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind Mike's ear, unable to stop himself even though Mike's hair is drenched in blood. They both are; their clothes ripped and stained a deep red, their hands and arms and faces, too. Will doesn't know how much of the blood is actually their own, and how much of it is- he doesn't really want to think about it, to be honest.

He swallows as he lets his hand slip down the side of Mike's neck and over his collarbone, tries not to look at the trail of smeared blood left in its wake, stopping only when he can press the flat of his palm against Mike's chest.

He takes a deep breath, tries to focus on the steady beats of Mike's heart against his hand, a welcome reminder that Mike's still here; that he's a living, breathing thing, his skin warm under the touch of Will's hand. Tries to ignore the way his mind catches, almost like an old record, as the same words repeat themselves over and over: I almost lost him.

Mike shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to rest gently over Will's. "We should- we should clean up."

—

The shower is not built for two people, but the mere thought of leaving Mike's side for more than a few seconds is more than Will can take. He stares at the shower for a moment, then glances back to Mike.

"Do you- I can wait, if you want me to."

Mike tilts his head a little, a small uptick in the corner of his mouth. He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. We can- you can stay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Mike breathes out, his fingers finding Will's momentarily. "I want you to stay."

They undress in silence and then climb into the shower, arms and legs a tangled mess. Will looks at Mike, traces the streaks of blood covering his face with his eyes. It should probably freak him out more than it does, he thinks. Standing here in a shower, naked and covered in blood, with Mike. Instead, he feels more at ease than he has in a long, long time.

He reaches around Mike then to turn on the water, draws in a shaky breath when Mike's hand finds its way to his waist, steadying him. They make quick work of cleaning up, helping each other to wash the blood out of their hair, scrubbing at their bodies until the skin is an angry red.

Will feels wringed out and a bit out of it afterward, as if his body is still trying to process it all. He's tired, too. The kind of tired that finds its home deep in your bones and makes your entire body ache, and all he wants to do is sleep. He wants to close his eyes but knows all too well that sleep isn't something they can really afford these days. But maybe, just maybe, they can allow themselves the freedom of one night of sleep.

He follows Mike out of the bathroom and leaves the towel in a wet pile on the floor, along with their clothes that are stained and ripped beyond mending. He'll throw it all out tomorrow. For now, all he can do is focus on the feeling of soft, clean fabric surrounding him as he crawls into bed next to Mike.

He takes in a shuddering breath, pushing down the sudden pang of sadness as he realizes that this might be the only night like this that they'll have in a very long time. He presses in closer to Mike, clings to him, and allows himself to breathe him in. His right hand finds Mike’s, their fingers lacing together, and when Mike gives his hand a gentle squeeze, Will finally lets his eyes drift close.

He doesn’t know how much time they have left, if any at all. He doesn’t know much about anything anymore, to be honest. But he do know that they are just at the beginning, that what might feel like the world is ending is actually a prologue, and he's going to make sure that they have more time than this.

#byler #posting my wips as a way to a) stop being weird about writing in general #and b) find a new way to enjoy something i still hold very near and dear to my heart #i might just post wips or drabbles once in a while #and that'll be it

[cartoon-buffoon]

I decided to read the Epic Mickey graphic novel—which by the way it's just chilling on the Internet Archive? Like you can read it at any time and I'd highly recommend doing so—but I noticed something very interesting in regards to the heart and the entire real plot point of Epic Mickey. I LOVE over analyzing stupid meaningless things in relation to my favorite characters so this is another stupid rant, sorry if someone has analyzed this before me it's just a neat thing I noticed.

WARNING: rant by someone who hasn't played Epic Mickey properly, sorry if the game contradicts whatever I say somehow. Also SPOILERS for the Epic Mickey graphic novel, I'd recommend reading it yourself because it's pretty cool.

Okay I'm aware the heart is a metaphor for fame, yeah the toons stuck in wasteland are stuck there because they are forgotten. However one thing I find interesting however is how the heart seemingly changes a toon's personality as well? It's for like a single panel where they show the heart does more for the toons than allowing passage in and out of wasteland. It at least affects them in some way.

This is right after Mickey gave up his heart to save Gus and Oswald who the blot had grabbed, now up until this point Mickey was very happy go lucky. Until his heart was stolen, and he suddenly lashes out at Oswald?

This is really random and out of character from what we've seen until now and in fact Mickey himself seems like he's aware he's not acting himself. As soon as the heart gets stolen we see Mickey who is generally jokey and happy suddenly get mad and outright confrontational. Look at how he gets up in Ozzie's face! Now Oswald did have a reason to be mad at Mickey, his reason was TOTALLY justified and idc if it was an accident Oswald had all the right to mistreat Mickey for ruining wasteland and killing his wife. Yet Mickey always just took on the chin, he felt remorseful yeah yet he just kinda took the insults, this is the first case of Mickey fighting back and Oswald wasn't even insulting him!

Later on when using the rocket we also see Mickey start writing his will when the plan to self destruct the rocket starts going up in flames.

Although comedic and funny this is pretty fucking grim if you look at the fact that he's just casually preparing for his death. After the rocket crashes we also see him give Oswald some slack and make a snarky remark.

Now not exactly out of character for Mickey to be funny it's still interesting how his way of being funny in this instance is taking a small jab at Oswald's piloting skills.

Later on we also see Mickey get serious and be really aggressive when fighting the blot.

Now this could just be of course Mickey deciding to right his wrongs and taking things serious, but I find it interesting that this comes AFTER he loses the heart.

This spring of sudden aggressiveness only awakens after he loses his heart and we see from the panel right after he loses it and Mickey seems dazed and discombobulated. AND THEY JUST GRAZE OVER THIS DETAIL! "I just... Feel so..." AND THEN BOOM! The comic just goes "alright keep it going, move the plot along we only got so many pages" and nothing comes of this. They never clarify what Mickey is feeling, this detail is just passed over, yet it seemingly affects the way Mickey acts for the rest of the comic (or at least until he gets his heart back). What I find so fascinating about this is Oswald and his character, we see him be pretty dynamic and go through a character arc, we learn he has resented Mickey and he built a eutopia for him and other forgotten toons until Mickey ruined it with the tinner. From there his resentment turned to full on rage due to his grief of not only losing his world yet also his wife, yet we see when Mickey tries to right his wrongs Oswald comes to realize Mickey isn't a threat and he acts a lot better. By the end of the comic we also see the two being best friends and relationship patched up.

We never really see Mickey go through a character arc though? Yeah he rights his wrongs and fixes the world he fucked up, yet that's the bare minimum and we see the wizard intended for it to play out like this.

I mean, I guess Mickey learned a lesson although I don't think "don't mess with magic and things that aren't yours" is a lesson, that's common sense. Mickey is the protagonist of the story and he fixes what he messed up and in the process rekindles his relationship with his lost brother, that's pretty much it. I find this really interesting as generally Mickey is just a tool to tell a story and he rarely shows his character. The time he DOES show character its usually not referenced by Disney or acknowledged, like Runaway Brain.

Fun fact, Runaway Brain which is one of the few instances Mickey is more of a indepth character is also referenced in this very comic!

Now of course this could be pure coincidence and I 100% think I'm reading WAYYYY to far into this, but it's still interesting to see this comic reference an instance of Mickey being a character with depth. I don't wanna talk about Runaway Brain too much as there's a YouTube video that does a better job of analyzing it better than me, but if you're unfamiliar with the movie it does something unique in the fact that it gives Mickey flaws, painting him (haha get it paint?) as a video game addict.

Got off track a bit but circling back around to my point: Mickey has never really had personality once he became a Disney mascot. In the classical shorts we see him be a lot different than the sterilized mouse we have now and it's only recently did we actually see Mickey get some of his actual charm back (I love the Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse so much and all the stuff related to it). Now as much as I love Oswald he ALSO didn't have much of a personality when being owned by Disney back in the silent era and it wasn't until Epic Mickey did we get to better understanding him and his personality considering he actually talks and he's in a setting with a genuine plot that's more than humor. Oswald in Epic Mickey is this actual character who changes as the plot happens, meanwhile Mickey stays constant UNTIL HIS HEART IS STOLEN. The games could be different or something idk, it's entirely plausible this theory is counteracted by the second game. But at least in the comics we see once that heart is snagged he acts more dynamically and becomes more than just a jolly cartoon character trying to fix his mistake.

I think the heart is more than just fame, it's also a reflection of character and a company's treatment of a character because of fame. Mickey is the mascot, he's flawless, he's the face of a corporation, his heart or aka his fame is what makes him him and it's the image Disney crafted for him. Without a heart toons end up like Oswald, old, bitter, and resentful, yet also dynamic and capable of change and I find this concept so cool yet once again in the graphic novel, IT'S A LIKE A SINGLE PANEL! This idea is kinda just discarded and left as an inference to be made and possibly entirely retconned or countered by the second game or the first game! I don't know, I haven't played either nor the awful 3Ds game.

Alright well that's all, I just wanted to make this little rant because I wanna procrastinate on some stuff I gotta do and I love coming up with theories or overanalyzing things. I don't know how to end this so have this screenshot from the graphic novel that made me go "what the fuck does that mean?"

(seriously wtf are gus and Mickey on?)

#oswald the lucky rabbit #epic mickey #mickey mouse #rant #comics #that epic mickey remaster can't come any sooner #please EM remaster save me

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hi, we are several hundred rats. More accurately, I am a rat, writing on behalf of my several hundred friends, who are also rats.

It's pretty good, being rats, certainly compared to all the nonsense sapios and other bipeds have to deal with. Like knees, and dentist appointments. Recently, though, we've run into a problem. It's very common for sapios to mistake us for a multi-coporeal entity or a collective intelligence or something of that nature. You know, quote-unquote hive minds. Ignoring the fact that most hives don't actually work like that and the way that the common vernacular exposes the inherent sapionormative biases of the modern social system, it usually isn't a problem. One of us corrects them, the human reacts however they react, no big deal. Their reactions are on them, not our problem.

I'm being asked to add that it's a little sad that the humans don't have the close social bonds that could be mistaken for that kind of thing. So now I have. And now they're discussing whether it's sad or just the nature of the human condition. I'm going to keep writing while they're not trying to co-author this letter.

Well, about three years ago, a colony of cerebrachnids moved in next door with their host body. We don't need to tell you, of course, that brain spiders are actually a collective intelligence. Almost all of us have been of great terms with them since day one. It's nice having someone around who can sympathize with how sapios view us. Rats and spiders, right?

Turns out that they've thought we were some sort of multi-coporeal entity this whole time. It came up last week when some of us were visiting for tea. They've thought for years that we were some manner of genus similar to them, and have just been too polite to ask what we are. I, the rat doing the typing, wasn't there, but the ones who were there all agree that our neighbor got a little weird about it, and they're a lot less overtly friendly since then.

We can't agree if they're feeling awkward, or if they're maybe reevaluating the whole friendship in the light of how we have less in common with them than they thought.

Any advice? Do we just pretend it didn't happen and go on like normal?

Thank you for getting touch, reader – or should I say, readers? I'm extremely heartened to hear how healthy your collective attitudes are to the misconceptions people have about multi-corporeal entities and collective intelligences. I'm also pleased that you recognise your own boundaries in managing other people's expectations and reactions to your lived reality.

That said, I don't think there's any risk of your overstepping those boundaries by reaching out to this neighbour and clearing the air about their misconception. I understand you don't want to take on more than your share of the emotional work. But frankly, simply being aware of that as a potential issue is generally enough to stop it from happening.

There might be any number of reasons for your neighbours' sudden standoffishness. They might be embarrassed by their mistake, or feeling foolish for misunderstanding your nature. Or they might be disappointed at the loss of what they assumed was a friendship built on commonality of experience. The fact is, you won't know until you talk to them.

Invite them over for tea and let them know how much you've missed them. Emphasise how much you all value your relationship with them, and that you're keen that this misunderstanding should be set aside.

I would also take the time to stress how much you do have in common, despite these differences. You may not share the same kind of consciousness as them, but there has been enough shared between you to sustain years of friendship – not only shared interests and talking points, but also deeper commonalities around how sapios treat your genuses.

I don't think anything will be gained by making them feel shamed or punished, especially if they were acting out of nothing more malicious than embarrassment. Give them a little grace, and take the time to clear the air between you properly. Then, with any luck, you'll all be able to shrug this moment off as nothing but an awkward bump in the otherwise smooth road of friendship.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

[good-beanswrites]

#i have a lot of thoughts on why amane accepting shidous help wouldnt help either of them but thats rambling for another day lmao

hello it is another day 👀 can I hear your thoughts on why shidou and amane wouldn't be helped by him trying to help her?

Ah yes!! I'll start off by saying I love Shidou a lot and think he's very capable, loving, and is a really good father -- I mean no slight to him when I say he would only make things worse for Amane if they became close like he wants. The short version is that neither of them will get what they want out of this new relationship, to no fault of their own. But by getting together in the first place, they give each other the illusion that they can get these things, which only makes the loss worse.

Shidou is grieving a sudden, intense loss. He thinks that he wants to keep being a father. He thinks that he misses taking care of his little girl and that by caring for Amane he can get that feeling back/atone for what he’s done. But what he needs is time and space to mourn such a sudden tragedy. I don’t know what you call a familial rebound, but that’s exactly what Amane would be. He does genuinely want to help, he’s not like “using her” or anything. But he is subconsciously expecting her presence to fix something for both of them. He desperately wants to fill a gap in his life, and her role as replacement for what he lost would become more and more clear. Maybe he doesn't want to replace them, but sees saving her as a way to atone for the children he couldn't save. No matter how much love he pours on her -- no matter if she's able to overcome her feelings and return his love tenfold -- it won’t fix what's actually broken.

And it would be the same for her: rushing into a new family wouldn’t give her back the parents/childhood she lost. After thinking so highly of her father, she’d have really high expectations for Shidou. She may be able to recognize how her father hurt her, but it’ll be hard to break away from the intense respect she has for him. She’ll always be wanting more from Shidou, both in his character and also the unconditional love she’d been denied. And while his love may be unconditional, it will always be affected by his love for his past family. All of his techniques for caring for her were tested on his kids first (he makes her desserts he know his kids liked, takes her places he took his family, etc). It's not a bad thing on it's own (in almost any other case it would be a really good thing that he has firsthand experience), but given Amane's specific past, this will hurt her a lot. She will always be reminded that those kids came first. She’s so used to adults putting the cult before her, this will feel the same. She’ll always feel like living in something's shadow. 

And I know people are adaptable, but I think her joining Shidou’s life would just be such a challenge for both of them. Shidou built a family with loved ones, and now he has to start a new life as a single father to a strange child whose mind works very different than the average population. He mentions he relied on his wife for household things -- now he must learn to cook and clean while also struggling with cult deprogramming techniques. All of his energy would be consumed with helping her change and adapt, instead of properly processing both of their emotions with grief and guilt. Unprocessed emotions like that can only come out harmfully, then. Even if Amane suddenly develops the most open mind in the world, it’ll be such a jarring switch going from her cult completely against medicine to a doctor’s household in which science always triumphs over spirituality. So much of Shidou’s core being is tied to the most awful and traumatizing events of Amane’s life -- that’ll be a huge obstacle for them to overcome, no matter how open to healing they both are.

The problem is, I recognize Amane's rejection isn't good for either of them. With Shidou's emotions, being so violently hated by a child only sends him deeper into grief. It makes the loss feel worse. And similarly, Amane's rejection denies her of someone who genuinely wants to care for her -- she's missing out on necessary physical, mental, emotional support. It's a lose-lose for the two of them, and I'm very compelled by it :(

Buuut, if I can indulge in my more personal thoughts for a sec, that's why I like to think about Mahiru taking her in! She specifically wanted new kids. She's literally prepared her life to take on a new child in her home. Even without the help of a partner, she excels at cooking, cleaning, keeping house, etc. Amane really does fill part of the gap Mahiru has always longed for. Though she won't get her childhood back, Amane will finally be an adults number one priority, no strings attached. Mahiru will absolutely smother her in love, her tendency to go overboard making up with Amane's deficiency of parental care. I think Mahiru's "let everyone stick to their own code" mindset will need some work, but at least it allows Amane's transition to be much easier. Mahiru is in support of Amane following what she believes, rather than live a lifestyle that actively denounces her. Shidou can still visit and help, giving him the perfect amount of interaction to heal him, and offer Amane something real and kind. I know it wouldn't be perfect under Mahiru, they're situation is fucked up enough to take a lot of painful work, but I really think she'd be the best to take care of her <3

#milgram #amane momose #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #thank you so much for the ask!! #i feel very strongly about it asdfsd so it makes me happy someone was interested #and feel free to tell me you guys' thoughts! #im never against seeing amane and shidou helping each other like that #i may not think it would work but im always happy to see them happy ;-; (and the writer happy!) #i actually think it would be good for both of them after a few years -- but by then amane would already be grown and it wouldnt work #asdfsad sorry for so much rambling but thank you! 😅 #ask #analysis/thoughts #tw cults

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 3 - The Bird Feeder

While exploring the woods, Matchstick happens upon a place full of strange tubes containing food and water! However, this place has a strange owner that certainly isn't like any human he's ever seen... Will he be able to sate his hunger while avoiding detection?

~*~

Mystic

Walking alongside the road, the trees and shrubbery afford some protection from sight, allowing him temporary shelter whenever a car or a person passes by. The dappled sunlight speckles the jungle-y forest floor, and he has to take care to avoid the spots. Thankfully, there's plenty of shade.

No doubt he looked like a sasquatch, lurching through the woods.

All the buildings look the same, with only minor variations to each block, for a good long while. Then, they start to shift. The concrete and large glass panes start giving way to wood, stucco, and cloth curtains and blinds. Spaces in front of the buildings became filled with short grass, potted plants, flowers, and strange little houses built on standing poles or stapled to buildings.

Oh- there was one in front of him, actually! A few of those odd tiny homes were nailed to the sides of trees, painted with bright colors and with small holes drilled where windows and doors would be. A loud chirping emanated from inside the one closest to him, and a small fluffy thing hopped out one of the holes. Hopping back and forth, it turned its head side to side, then it fluttered wings and took off in a burst of flight.

There were also- colorful tubes, hanging from the trees? They were filled with multicolored... sand? And pebbles? One had some kind of liquid.

One of the fluffy flying things lands on the edge of one of those tubes, dipping its pointy face into a hole and pulling out some of the pebbles. It cracks them open, eats something inside, and then flutters off as he draws near.

Spooky

The sudden movements of the small creature were interesting to watch, but it had the added bonus of showing him that what he thought was sand was actually... some kinda food!

The buildings he could recognize as belonging to people, but these smaller ones with the holes in them, he had no idea. They weren’t near the buildings. Were they part of the trees?

Regardless, he grabbed the strange tube and tilted it, dumping some of the 'sand' (he had no other idea what to call it) out of the holes and into his hand. He dumped it into his mouth, and they popped and crunched interestingly as he chewed. Not much of a flavor, though... Kinda bland, but not as bad as the gross waxy, ashy thing he'd tried earlier. At least it didn't get stuck against his teeth.

The pebbles were also very crunchy, but the insides of them were actually kind of chewy and tasty! Not bad, the hard and sharp shell kinda sucked but the rest was good. Probably his favorite so far.

The liquid one... He wasn't sure about. It looked a lot like it was just water, though he didn't remember water having a sweet smell to it. He wasn't sure he wanted to give it a try, but his mouth did feel kind of dried out, especially after the sand and pebbles... How were you supposed to get to this, though? There were a bunch of little shapes around the base of it... Curiously, he tried tilting it to the side like he did with the sand. Sure enough, some of the water spilled out of the plastic flower shapes around the bottom, running over his hand and trailing down towards his elbow. He let go, making a face. Eugh, he didn't like it running over his skin like that... Licking it off the back of his hand, his eyes widened when he realized it actually did taste kinda sweet! Like, really sweet, actually.

He plucked it off the hook and did his best to tilt the rest of the sweet water into his mouth. Some of it evaporated into steam right away, but what amount of it didn't actually felt like somewhat of a relief as it slid down his throat. Man, if only this thing wasn't so awkward to drink out of... Damn it, he could tell he'd spilled some of it down his front. He did his best to put it back, though it was kind of at an awkward angle now, and wiped at his face with the back of his arm. Probably tasted the best out of all three, but was definitely the messiest and left him feeling unpleasant and sticky.

Mystic

Hmm. He probably needed to wash himself off. Preferably not with the chemical sprays the scientists used back at the lab... not that he knew where to even find those. Nor wanted to.

A quick glance around gave him some more information.

The strange tiny houses and cylinder things hanging from the trees weren't just here- they were across the black stone path, too. The building was a painted white wooden structure, with a large extended porch that met two doors, and had at least two floors from where he was standing. Patches of bright colored flowers and grasses surrounded by rings of stone sat neatly in front of this building, clearly tended to by somebody. A large pool of water was underneath a short tree laden with bright orange spheres on the leafy branches.

The hanging food containers were scattered about that lawn, as well. On the tree, on hanging hooks, on the porch.

Spooky

The wheels in his head turned as he looked at the building, not sure if he should approach. He couldn't tell if anyone was in there or not, but... That water didn't seem too deep. Maybe it would be safe to try and wash off there, though he didn't really like the thought of it. The only times he'd been doused in water before had all been very intentionally unpleasant, or in most cases, absolutely terrifying.

Still, there was more food over there too, and despite having emptied the ones on this side of the stone path, it hadn't really felt like enough.

...He'd try it, but was prepared to flee if need be.

Wanting to put off having to deal with the water, the first thing he went for was another sand tube, though this time they stuck to his hand. Ugh... He tried to lick them off of his palm but that was easier said than done. Fine... He'd wash his damn hands.

Reluctantly, he went over to the water and crouched next to it, squinting down at it distrustfully. When the water level didn't start suddenly rising to drown him, though, he dipped his fingers in- pulled them back, not expecting it to be cold- and then finally dunked both hands in to get it over with, scrubbing the stickiness from them. He then backed off entirely, having hit his limit on amount of contact with water he was willing to put up with today. He stood there with his arms out, dripping, before clenching his eyes and jaw and using the remaining wetness on his hands to try and wipe the stickiness from the corners of his mouth. Kinda worked, but he still hated it, and promptly shook himself off to try and rid himself of the sensation. He wasn't even going to deal with whatever sweet water had dried on his chest or stomach, washing his hands and face had been bad enough.

Guh... damn it, now his hands were all shaky. At least there was another tube with those pebbles to help take his mind off it. He walked over and dumped some into his hand, crunching on that while tipping it again for more.

Mystic

It takes some doing, with occasional glances left and right to ensure there was nobody around, but eventually he manages to empty every single food cylinder in the yard. He has to take greater care not to spill on himself with the other sweet water cylinders- he didn’t want to dunk his hands again. Being sticky and cold sucked.

tHD

Augh-! Something just bonked him on the head!

The sound of an object rolling in the grass drew his eyes to it. One of the round orange things from the tree. There were many others like it on the ground at the roots, likely also fallen from the branches.

…hmm… could these also be food?

clk-clik k-chk

Behind him, the door in the building was making a faint rattling sound.

Spooky

He had just picked up the orange thing to inspect it, empty cylinder in his other hand, when the door behind him started making noise. By the time he noticed said noise, though, he only had enough time to turn and look at it before it opened.

Startled, he dropped the empty cylinder and scrambled for cover, hoping whoever was coming out didn't get a good look at him.

Mystic

His dirty, damaged charcoal form just manages to slip behind the trunk of the tree as whoever was inside that building fully opens the door. He can’t see who or what they are, taut and tense behind the tree, but he can hear the creak of footsteps on the wooden porch.

They’re humming a tune, like the guy in the rich-smelling building with the hot food.

…It stops.

“…huh.” The person hums in thought, and he can hear a plastic clunk as one of the cylinders is rotated on its hook. “Birds went crazy last night… or squirrels, again.”

Rustling sounds. Another metal tin noise, and plastic crinkling. Then- a sound like sand pouring. Were they refilling the food cylinders?

The creaking wood becomes crunching leaves and brushing grass. They were getting closer.

A scaly teal-blue hand, with webbed fingers, faintly pointed nails like tiny claws, and a dusting of silver among the blue, comes into view near the side of the tree.

Shit-!

The hand picks up one of the orange spheres, and disappears from his peripheral vision.

…there’s a soft leathery sound of something tearing, followed by munching.

“Mm! Oranges finally in season~” the voice sang, gleeful. He could detect a faint feminine pitch to it.

The munching continues as the footsteps move away from the tree. He has to hold completely stock still to avoid being seen. The figure walks into view as they go away from the tree and toward the black stone path.

…He’d seen some weird folk, and all things considered, this was not the weirdest, but it was certainly strange. The odd blue skin with scale coating covered the entire body- save for the parts in clothing. Their feet were large webbed flippers, with sandals tucked around the ends of the toes and the sole. Fins cupped the sides of the head, where the hair appeared to be made of- plants?

They didn’t notice him. They were headed away from the building, towards a boxy blue thing on the path.

Spooky

He stood there with one hand gripping the sphere- 'orange'?- he'd picked up, and the other firmly clamped over his mouth to avoid making a sound. The fact the stranger had gotten so close didn't help the tension any, and his back was starting to sting from pressing against the tree.

He finally dared to breathe again once the person had started walking away, but he still knew he wouldn't be able to run for it without making any noise. As they went past, he scootched around as carefully as he could to the other side of the trunk, anxiously peeking out from behind to try and see what they were doing.

Mystic

The person keeps walking, not noticing as he peeks around the tree- thankfully, not even his glowing eyes were standing out enough to give him away during the daytime.

They get into the blue box, opening a door on the side and ducking into the inner chamber. The door shuts, and the box makes a rumbling sound as it comes to life. The blue ‘truck’ moves out of the small concrete path onto the black path, and putts away out of sight.

…He’s alone, again.

At his feet by the tree roots is a strange orange skin, curly and deflated looking. It smelled really fresh and sweet. Did it come off of the orange sphere?

And- all those cylinders in the yard were indeed full again.

Whoever that was, they kept up a constant supply of this strange outdoor sand food.

Spooky

He looked at the scraps of orange and yellow material on the ground, then at the sphere. Were you supposed to take the outside of it off? How, though? It was pretty smooth, albeit sorta bumpy too. He didn't really have any claws like that person did, so he instead used his teeth to cut into it, though it was awfully sour and made his face scrunch up. Yuck!! What was that taste?? He spat out the now partially cooked strip of orange skin he'd managed to pull off the sphere and stuck out his tongue, wishing he could get the rest of the taste off of it.

Still, looking at the sphere again, it seemed there was indeed some kind of softer food of some kind inside it. He used his hands to peel off the rest of the skin, because like hell he was going to put that shit in his mouth again, and was left with some kind of soft, segmented orb. Actually, it split super easily along the segments too, and he was able to pull a piece off of it, which he cautiously tried.

It was still a bit tart, but not godawful sour like the skin was- instead it was kind of sweet and tangy, and juice came out when he chewed on it. Huh. Not bad! He tossed the rest of the orb into his mouth.

Unlike the sand, he'd probably be able to carry a few of these back to his hiding spot. And maybe some of the pebbles too. Keeping an eye on the black path just in case that blue truck came back, he reached up and pulled a few more of those orange spheres off the branches, tucking them in the crook of his arm, and tipping some more of those crunchy pebbles into his hand for later before fleeing back into the woods.

What a score! He'd have to remember how to get back there. It seemed like a pretty good food supply, and with only one person around to guard it!

~*~

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#stickman #stickman oc #cryptid oc #escaped lab experiment #lab experiment oc #mermaid oc #merperson oc #cosmic fiasco #cryptids au #cosmic fiasco cryptids #original fiction #writing #rp format #fedoraspooky #mysticdoodles

[fascinationex]

brainstorm gets stuck in his dumb ceiling harness and perceptor has to untangle him and possibly take him to the medbay for for hurting himself trying to get himself down hsjdhs

Thank you for your prompt! A tiny fic:

-----

Brainstorm's left wing and remaining dignity were both hanging by a thread. The mech himself, unfortunately, was hanging by rather more than a thread: he was stuck in his own harness, dangling from the roof of his workshop.

"It's a bit sexy, isn't it?" He stroked an absent beard over the flat plane of his faceplate.

Perceptor stood on the work bench beneath him, bracing up the wing with his shoulder as he tried to disentangle a strap from its sparking insides.

Being able to see what he was doing would have enabled him to enjoy the power of a knife, but since he couldn't, and the wing was already sparking at its joint, he had to shove his fingers into the mysterious shadows inside Brainstorm's shoulder armour and attempt a manual disentangling.

His hands were wet with leaking fuel from where the strap had cut into Brainstorm's fuel supply. He had a very narrow aerofoil and it wasn't going well.

"Sexy?" Perceptor repeated dubiously. Getting stuck in his own ridiculous harness? The one he built so he could dangle from the roof to, somehow, impress Perceptor? "Brainstorm, it's not even smart."

The wing tensed under his fingers, creaking ominously as it tried to sag expressively. Brainstorm's sulking actually deepened his access, and he found a strap of distinctly non-biological cabling at last. From there, he began to follow it with his fingers.

"Ha! I should have known you'd need something to be smart to be sexy. We're so alike." Were they? Were they? "But," he went on, "it's pretty smart." He winced as Perceptor shoved, trying to stopper the fuel leak even as he sought out the rogue straps of the harness. This did not stop him talking. "Who else do you know who can engineer atrocities upside down?"

"I'd be impressed if you managed to do it upside down using a stable antigravity field," Perceptor offered, half-sparked and through his teeth, because it seemed marginally better than telling him nobody except you thinks that's an achievement, actually.

"Ohh. What a thought. Noted," said Brainstorm.

"It wasn't a request." If Perceptor's voice was terse and clipped, could anyone really blame him? Really?

He stretched up on his toes for a moment, heaving his shoulder beneath Brainstorm's wing and shifting it for just long enough to get his fingers around that one strap. When he relaxed back onto his heels, the sudden weight of Brainstorm's wing compressed his hand.

"Ouch," said Brainstorm, but not really as though it hurt. "I'm surprised," he added, "I thought you'd be all over me! Dangling from the ceiling, entirely at your mercy."

The frustrating thing was that he wasn't wrong. Perceptor didn't mind the idea of Brainstorm getting stuck in his ridiculous harness, exactly. He could have paced in slow, deliberate circles beneath his conjunx's helpless frame, listening to him whine to be set free.

That had a certain appeal.

But he wasn't just stuck. He hadn't called Perceptor when he was just stuck. He'd panicked, tried to unstick himself, and twisted himself up until something had cracked and there was fuel slowly drooling from his wing. He'd only sent a comm when his wires had started throwing sparks inches from an open fuel source.

And nobody liked to show up to find their conjunx bleeding onto the floor, one wrong move from accidental self-immolation.

Perceptor didn't dignify this comment with an answer. He pulled on his strap instead, trying to find where it had any give. It tightened the rest of the cables around Brainstorm and set him gently to spinning, somehow, which he did without much grace.

Perceptor ducked to avoid getting a wing to the face. The wing he'd been bracing up creaked and bent, sagging down with the draw of gravity. Brainstorm didn't wail and complain about the pain. Instead his optics whited out in complete silence, which Perceptor thought might have been worse.

"I'm going to cut it," he decided.

"Bold. Strategic. Incisive. Good idea." Brainstorm spun another slow rotation on the spot, helpless before the forces of physics. The forces of physics were probably due a win over Brainstorm at this point, anyway, really. He defied them often enough under regular circumstances.

"I might clip something," he warned. He pulled his hand out. It was slippery with energon, and the stain glowed under the strong laboratory lighting.

"Wow, okay, no, bad idea. Terrible idea. No. No?"

Perceptor ignored this and jumped down from the work bench. He came back a moment later carrying the the wire cutters.

"Percy," Brainstorm squirmed, which did not make it any easier to find the right cable to snip by feel alone. "Hey, Percy, come on."

"Don't flap."

Brainstorm, apparently sensing the futility of his wriggling, instead went very still. Perceptor dug his slippery fingers back into the shadows of the wing joint, seeking out the loop of cabling.

He knew he'd found the right one, because tugging it set Brainstorm to slow spinning again.

"I think I'm getting seasick."

"I'll just be a moment." He couldn't see, but he could feel his way along the cable. He clamped the wire cutters and pressed down slowly, waiting for Brainstorm to tell him it hurt. He did not, so Perceptor took that as encouragement. He braced Brainstorm's sagging wing up with his own shoulder again and cut the cable.

Snip.

There was a whistle as the strap finally came free, and Brainstorm made a tank-churning noise of pain as the broken ends dragged through his injured wing where they'd cut in.

"Wait," he said, in such a tone that Perceptor looked up in alarm, but it was already too late: the other harness cables, suddenly given all of his weight and without their fellow to help, could not hold up.

Snap, snap, snap, went the harness, and Brainstorm thrashed his good wing, trying to twist to hold onto it, but—there was a creak—he swung and spun—snap!—and then tumbled down from the ceiling to crash onto Perceptor, who was right below.

They fell in a crash and clatter of metal limbs onto the workbench, where one of Perceptor's flailing feet knocked the miniature model of his own alt mode off the bench to thunk onto the floor. It lay there on its side and was quickly forgotten.

Then, silence.

For a few moments there was no sound but the settling noises of living metal and the dull whir of hard-working processors. Perceptor could keenly feel where Brainstorm's canopy had dented his flatter chestplate. He let his head tip back to rest upon the bench: thump.

He stared up at the tangled mess that had been Brainstorm's harness. The cables and straps swayed gently above, looking wholly innocuous. One of them was shiny with fuel.

"...Bracing!" said Brainstorm lightly. He clamped his fingers over the leak in his wing. He was much better at finding it than Perceptor had been, given that he could actually feel it. He tipped his head so he too could see the carcass of his harness. "I'm gonna have to fix all that."

Something crackled and his wing joint sparked, a bright little fleck of golden light near Perceptor's face.

"You mean you're going to need to dismantle it."

"...Right! Yes. That. I'll need to dismantle it. Especially since," he added, shooting a sly look at Perceptor, "I have to make the antigravity field."

Perceptor did not take the bait. "Was seeing First Aid somewhere in this game plan?"

"Sure," said Brainstorm, sounding distinctly like someone who wasn't listening to a word Perceptor had said. "But now that I'm free, you can tell the truth... It was a bit sexy, wasn't it?"

If he hadn't been injured, Perceptor might have shoved him off the workbench. "No."

#robot-thighs #ask #prompt #simpatico #my fic #tf fic

[evaofkonoha]

shisui & itachi roadtrip nonsense

In Arizona

"Wha---what is that?" Shisui asks, eyes narrowing as he leans in closer to the glass case.

"I believe that is the Thing," Itachi deadpans, caught somewhere between annoyance and amusement at the novelty of this road-side stop.

Shisui narrows his eyes at the gray mass tucked in the case. "Do you think it's real?" He whispers.

Itachi rolls his eyes. "Probably not. It appears to be a paper mache craft project."

"Ah c'mon Itachi! The magic is in believing!" Shisui chides, looking up at Itachi with sparkling eyes. Shisui knows he is charming and insanely persuasive, hence why they keep making stops at every roadside attraction in the continental United States.

"It's not very convincing," itachi remarks, taking in what is supposed to be proof of the extraterrestrial but really feels like a waste of time.

"Then close your eyes and believe."

"I won't be able to see it then."Shisui smiles back at him.

"Exactly."

In Colorado

They camp for a night in the Great Sand Dunes National Park, because one of Itachi's goals for this grand roadtrip is to hot up as many National Parks as possible. The sand dunes are magnificent as they are astonishing.

"Isn't in crazy how all of a sudden there's just… sand. Like, sand everywhere," Shisui remarks, letting a handful of it slip through his fingers.

Itachi smiles softly.

"It's a little unexplainable, isn't it? I'm sure there's a reason why this is here, but it's almost more magical to not know why and instead just be amazed that it's here at all."

Quirking an eyebrow, smirk growing, Shisui quips, "Oh so now you're filled with mystery and adventure?"

The next day, Itachi buys a so-ugly-it's-cute Bigfoot Christmas ornament in a junky shop in Colorado Springs. When asked what compelled him to buy it, Itachi just responds with a cheeky grin,

"I don't know, kind of reminded me of you."

Shisui pouts a little at that.

In Oklahoma

Itachi's head whips to determine if what he saw in his perriferal is actually real. Interestingly enough, it is.

"Pull over there," he says, voice tinged with an edge of urgency.

Shisui follows where he is pointing, crossing the highway to find… Alvin and the Chipmunks?

Itachi's already half-crawling into the backseat to grab the camera. "You have to get my picture."

Shisui sits stunned at the events unfolding, not quite processing what is going on before it finally hits him that they are now pulled into the parking lot of a Marijuana despinsery so that Itachi can get his picture with three massive and slightly unnerving chipmunks. Of course he loves Itachi, so he takes the camera and gets out of the SUV.

In Arkansas

Their adventures have taken them to the Ozark mountain range, specifically to the small town of Eureka Springs, nestled and built into the mountain side. It has quirky, tourist shops, interesting restaurants, and a sex shop right in the middle of town. And not just any kind of sex shop, but a slightly trashy one.

So of course, Shisui just has to go in it.

Hand in hand, Shisui leads (drags) Itachi amongst the families visiting the little town towards the shop. Not one to be too embarrassed about his sexuality usually, the location and lack of any subtlety has a small blush growing on Itachi's cheeks. He finds himself keeping his head down and hoping his bangs will keep him from being recognized (as if he knows any of these people).

They make it into the shop, which smells very strongly of lemon intense, and immediately Shisui's eyes light up at the cheap lingerie sets and sex toys scattered about with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

They spend the next twenty minutes pursuing---at least Shisui is---occasionally stopping when Shisui finds something to menace Itachi with.

Making their way to one of the back corners, away from the very open windows to the street or the front counter, Shisui pulls Itachi in close for a kiss.

"You're cute when you blush," he whispers against Itachi's lips. Of course, Itachi blushes just a little bit at the compliment.

"And you're annoying."

"You find it endearing. Honestly, I'm a little horny. Want to get something and maybe go find a place to try it out?" Shisui nuzzles against Itachi's cheek. "I saw a maid set that you would look so cute in back by the window…"

Itachi pulls away with a blush and a scoff. "And the mood is dead."

They ended up not getting the cheap maid costume, but a few other things. Needless to say, the mood was not entirely dead.

This was fun to write. I couldn't sleep so I worked this out on my phone. If you have a state you would like to see them visit, don't hesitate to tell me! This is a fun little writing exercise and I would love to add more to it <3

#Shiita #uchiha itachi #naruto #fanfic #itachi uchiha #naruto fanfiction #itachi #shisui #shisui uchiha #uchiha shisui #Drabble #Ficlet #Road trip au #Road trip #Traveling #Writing #writing exercise

[zesty-alt]

Thoughts about a prince becoming a dragon knight. Royalty is often special in fantasy settings, and what that means for this is that princes are able to become dragon knights almost immediately after they enter their twenties, and they are very fertile for their dragon mates. While a prince is rarely actually allowed to fight as a dragon knight, too risky, it does grant their kingdom a lot of benefits. It makes the elves happy and dragons won't raid the kingdom's countryside. Now a dragon rider prince isn't as useful as a heir, for they have difficulty producing a human heir or administrating while so large. This means that it's usually the third son that is allowed to be a dragon knight. Now that third son is swollen heavy, and due to a tragic accident he is now the king. This sudden power over a human realm just makes him even more fertile and his dragon children grow large quickly, and now he has to sit in his throne, unable to be seen past his tits and belly.

It was exactly something like this I was workshopping, there are especially powerful high dragons that will only mate with royalty and it's usually the duty of the third or so son to do so, and they start younger than most dragon knights; they don't really have to "earn" the dragon's favor as it's mostly interested in their blood. While they can become especially powerful sorcerers, they're typically not considered knights and not expected to fight, nor particularly demanded to do much of anything but bear dragons for their entire life.

Dragons birthed by knights are actually infertile; it's only the royal dragons that go on to be the partners of dragon knights, so it's a vitally important and highly honored role. All those with royal blood are built for breeding with dragons and tend to bear especially heavy broods, though they carry them with much more grace than even the most stoic knight. Gravid yet poised, not an ounce of struggle showing on their face even as their bellies thrash, always speaking calm and collected.

I also think it's not necessarily unusual for the king to be heavily pregnant, but any who would doubt their ability to rule even while stuck in their thrown and unable to see past their ridiculously bloated fecund body would be wrong. Even the laziest prince is known to become a shrewd and charismatic leader that doesn't suffer nonsense once he takes the throne, with a fierce demeanor not unlike a dragon.

The high dragon is also known to eat people that seriously piss off his mate or seem to have ill intentions. More than one royal advisor who thought to manipulate things their way has found themselves in the jaws of the dragon. (This kingdom's dragons typically dislike human flesh; even the dragons of knights rarely bite into human enemies. Only high dragons are large enough to really bite a whole person, but even then it's a rare occurrence, so it's practically unquestioned when he does it and assumed that guy deserved it)

Actually, a heavily pregnant king doesn't use a throne but lays against his larger than usual dragon, which holds a defensive claw over his pregnant mate at all times, blowing smoke at anyone who ventures too close. All the moreso if a previous monarch's been killed.

And if the dragon suddenly starts fucking the king in the middle of a meeting, well, you have to act like it's not happening, and to his credit the king, though clearly rapturously enjoying himself as the dragon's tongue snakes around inside him, still pays close attention and will contribute.

Or sometimes the council will say "the wise dragon is right we all need a break" and an orgy commences, dragons aren't selfish lovers and indeed a high dragon relishes seeing his mate ravaged by everyone. That's all I got.

#lol #preg kink #post over everyone go home hit the showers

[ae-neon]

So, to counteract the brain rot I'm experiencing from cc1, I picked a book off my shelf I haven't read

The Wall by William Sutcliffe is a story set in the fictional town of Amarias, Occupied Palestine about a settler boy who crosses the Wall that separates his town from the forbidden territory of the enemy

From what I can tell William Sutcliffe is a British YA author so by no means am I suggesting The Wall as primary or secondary reading for learning about Palestine or supporting Palestinian artists. I have this book because I bought it years ago (it was published in 2013)

My thoughts so far on Part One (pg 1 - 62)

For Context Joshua sneaks into a "disputed" area to retrieve his football and finds the entrance to a tunnel that goes under the high wall that separates his brand new town from "the enemy"

(to clarify Joshua is an Israeli boy who lives in a settlement in the West Bank, not technically "Israel" but rather Occupied Palestine - the whole thing is but I hope you get what I mean)

The narration style took a little for me to get into since I think it does a good job of feeling like Joshua's 13 year old POV at times then slips into being clearly the adult voice of the author at others

I like that Sutcliffe doesn't pretend at Joshua's total ignorance to paint him as innocent, Joshua because of the nature of settler life is aware of some things but can't quite understand the full scope

[When describing the "disputed" area and the demolished house he finds there]

It's a feeling I can't quite understand, something to do with the obvious suddenness with which this place was transformed from a home into a heap of junk. An eerie chill seems to be rising up from the rubble. It's as if an aftertaste of violence is hanging in the air, like a bad smell.

...

Even from up here, I can see that the possessions spilling out of the house never belonged to people like us. This was the home of people from the other side. The mystery isn't what happened to them, it's how they found themselves on the wrong side of The Wall in the first place, and why the site hasn't been cleared and built on.

The contradictions don't jump out at him but he is subconsciously aware of them

The Wall was put up to stop the people who live on the other side setting off bombs, and everyone says it has done an excellent job.

Most people who work on the building sites in Amarias are from the other side, and if you drive to the city you see lots of people who look like they come from those towns, but other than that, even though they're living next door, it feels like they aren't really there.

Actually, that's not right. You know they're there because The Wall and the checkpoints and the soldiers who are all over the place are a constant reminder, but it's as if they're almost invisible.

After crossing and being chased by a group of older boys then saved by a girl who can speak Hebrew

I'm not, in truth, very far away at all. Probably only a few hundred metres. But I'm in another world.

...

It all feels strangely normal yet exotic, and odd to think this place has always been here, so busy and so alive; so close but invisible.

The girl borrows him her father's keffiyeh and her brother's flip-flops so he can walk back to the tunnel without being spotted as a settler

The scarf lent by the girl who saved me, and even though she asked for the simplest thing in return, I gave her nothing. Worse than that, I now see that I have stolen from her[...]

Joshua manages to get home to the house he shares with his mother and religious fundamentalist stepfather. (many settler groups are often part of stricter religious sects and a clear distinction is made by Joshua between his Dad who was a mostly secular reservist killed in action and his step-father who is a staunch settler and much more religious)

When Joshua asks Liev, his step father, about the forbidden territory, Liev tells him it is disputed but when Joshua asks by who Liev says 'No one.'

Then the same night he returns from the other side Joshua takes out a miniature town he built. His actions mirroring the actions of colonial settlers, he subconsciously understands there's no real fear or righteousness - the 'war' and it's propaganda are manufactured - the truth is much more methodical

I stand over the fantasy town, gazing down at it. Along one edge is a wall, the same height as the tallest house. [...] I remember the afternoon I added in the wall, years ago, taking up hours getting it to the right height and making it solid. There's even a watchtower in one corner, made from the inner tube of a toilet roll topped with a yoghurt pot which is usually filled with soldiers. Now for the first time it strikes me as strange that I put this wall at the edge, with nothing on the other side of it.

[...]

...I don't feel angry or destructive as I'm doing it, but slowly and deliberately, I lift a leg and step onto a cardboard house at the heart of the town. One by one, I calmly crush all the others that are made of cardboard. Two are made of balsa wood. Those I pluck from where they are glued into place, and squeeze in my hands until they shatter. [...] Then dismantle the Lego houses, brick by brick. There's also a police station.[...]Then there's the school and the park and the shops...

Interesting so far.

*

On a less humorous not than how I started, I have seen sjm out and about being celebrated by crowds of dozens of people for the launch of cc3 and beyond my own disappointment at fairly predictable spoilers I've seen, it bothers me that at a time like this when so many are aware of the Occupation and SJM's own Zionist leanings, she can still be celebrated by so many people (many of them being poc)

Idk, it just bothered me so I picked The Wall off my shelf to especially counteract the underlying pro-Zio vibes in cc

#The Wall by William Sutcliffe #interesting so far #eon reads #I'm so bad at tagging

[gla55t33th]

novus got a redesign i think m settlin on this . !!! !

character details under cut

Novus Rex

Genderflux; It/Xe/He/She/They , though gendered pronouns it has varying affinity with depending on when you catch xem!!

Novus rex was the first "royal"- the first pink shape- that the treeangles introduced. It was intended to be a proxy and nothing more. A puppet! No will, no desire of its own, very little thoughts and opinions bar the minimum to pass as a living thing like the rest of the shapes, just mindlessly carrying out the upper echelons wishes so that the treeangles could step back and fade into mythos comfortably while still holding control over the world they had built. But unfortunately, Vie, The main treeangle, isn't exactly precise at the whole creator thing. It was promising as a puppet for years, but in that time, it could vaguely tell something was wrong, something other than simply being different to the rest. It carried out its role flawlessly in that time however, doing well in imposing and managing a true dictatorship. It wasn't a perfect world, and people took issue to its complete rule, and a few small attempts at usurping them were made. None of it came to anything however.

Well, none of it came to anything they noticed. During the aftermath, a young grey flower was left without a guardian, and for some inexplicable reason, Novus took them under its care. The child was then named Relicuum.

Novus was never designed to feel emotion- nor desire- nor anything like this. Guilt? Empathy? It was hard to tell what that circle was feeling. But notably, it could pinpoint its own anxiety, for the first time. It had felt doubt before, but nothing ever like this. Novus was terrified as to what this might mean; what taking in that child could possibly do. It could be discarded- the gods had no need for a puppet that no longer had strings- it could be tossed aside- and while the loss of power didnt unnerve it, the idea of what the aftermath could be did. After all, from now on, Novus was living on borrowed time. It made a decision, and while it didnt regret it, it knew it would be their last of that kind.

The treeangles didnt betray a single opinion on the matter to Novus, which was terrifying, but it decided to overlook it all and start building some kind of closeness with the child it had brought in. It... wasnt good at the whole parent thing, unable to empathise or even sympathise, not picking up on Rels needs unless they explicitly stated, even a few accidents due to Rel being unable to safely touch the pink shape without being burnt. But it sort of worked out- Novus could always wear oven mitts if needing to touch them, they could be more straightforward in their wants and whims, and it just sort of worked out, Novus becoming quite fond of the child, and the child in turn becoming attached to this figure. They could see how much Novus had to adjust to this, and how hard it was trying. It wasnt malicious, just... a bit lost with how people even functioned. Novus had no need for food, for sleep, for socialising, for entertainment, for validation, and when confronted with the fact others do, it was weird.

But good things dont last forever.

The treeangles, despite their feigned nonchalance, had already decided from the moment novus took the child in. It was faulty, so it would be quietly taken out of the picture, and thus the four archangels were silently made as a solution. They, this time, were people with emotions- the whole shebang- and were to be members of both the upper and lower echelon; the gods and the people, as a sort of intermediary. Right after they took novus out of the throne and got rid of the child who could tattle. And so, Novus's story began to draw to a suffocating close when Rel fell gravely ill. It was sudden, and even worse, it was easily attributed as its own fault, its very being having corrosive effects on others. It was an easy assumption that rel being too close for too long had degraded their body and it finally started falling apart, and it was an easy rumour that Novus had killed the child it took in. Which was an easy motivation to rile the masses, and make Novus's violent removal from power justified to everyone. "It had gone too far this time." was the sentiment echoed.

Novus on the other hand, was not coping well with the loss. It knew it wasnt itself- it had been so cautious! It could only have been the work of the spiteful gods, finally kicking it to the curb. It knew it was going to be removed too, and as a last ditch attempt at- well. rebelliousness wasnt exactly it. being an individual is more on the mark, but it wasnt really that either. Proving it was a person. Feeling that rage, how unjustified it was, and completely ripping those strings to shreds. If it was to be painted a villain, it could easily be one of its own accord. And it would drag as much of them down with it.

So novus found a semblance of satisfaction in fighting these "archangels". Not only was it symbolic of defying the treeangles, it could take a final solace in the fact that they were fighting. They werent just a puppet. It was running on spite, and made sure to draw the show out, even when it slowly clocked onto the fact that, as powerful as they knew themself to be, it wasn't to be a battle won against these enemies that seemed to be able to come back to life, if the orange one had been anything to go off of.

Novus eventually self destructed, caught up in the fight and the distractions and the emotion of it all. And novus had its form destroyed, its core bound to a corpse, trapping it, and for safe measure they locked it within a volcanos cave.

And that was the end of that. The archangels became heroes, the world kept going, and Novus was left all alone, in the dark. It at least had the time to properly grieve.

GOD that went dark uhm. uhhhm. uhmmmm. yea. blixer jsab amirite i sure do love blixer jsab . This is all pre game btw it sorta. tutorial boss from the heroes point of view. then about a millenia and a half time skip for novus while the archangels build up a society with the new king ! !! ! ! and then some dumb idiot (Diapason (my cube) ) came across the corpse when havin a Nice Little Walk and wanted to get it a proper cremation. oh boy did they let a hateful being on the loose! i have been in the jsab fandom too long.

#jsab #jsab blixer #jsab lltnf #dev.draw() #sharing details abt my au makes me NAUSEOUS GOD DAMN!!!! I ONLY TALK ABT IT TO PEOPLE I KNOW WELL. wht if i get cancellef for being EDGY!!! #idc . but it does not help this being little 16 follower corner to 170 follower corner because Undertale /lh #i love novus a lot and theres a lot more nuance to their character than just this but this is the important story beats #i want to draw novus n rel just vibing. It loves them a lot #yes i have created alternate timelines for my au where rel survives and nothing bad happens because its MY story i do what i want

[paper--moons]

Regressor!Silver Headcanons

(with cg!Lance)

Silver has a lot of issues to work through, to say the least; being kidnapped by Mask of Ice at age two and spending years at his facility, learning from Lance about Mask of Ice's plan to control time, stopping aforementioned plan and going on a journey to find his parents only to discover that his father is the head of (the original) not-so-legal organization Team Rocket? Yeah, it goes without saying that all of that would create some trust issues and leave him with some lasting trauma. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. He's angry and hurt and all of these other ugly emotions that threaten to consume him because of these fears that plague him. Wasn't he good enough? Why had his father not tried to find him if he knew about this neo branch of Team Rocket? Was he not loved? A child's whole foundation is built on if they are loved, so is it really all that surprising that when that foundation is nonexistent he became lost? And since he was left without guidance, this anger at the world grew into a defense mechanism—nothing could ever hurt him again if he hurt it first. But this sort of destructive approach to life can only last for so long until it burns you up, and for Silver it inevitably does. His anger leaves him burnt-out and emotionally wrung-dry, leading to a break that results in him regressing for the first time.

There was no real trigger the first time he dropped, no sudden event that made everything come crashing down, but rather it was the result of years of uncertainty in his life having built up until there was nothing left but for it to come crumbling down. Though it's clear that regression is something of a soothing balm for him, even if he isn't sure what's happening to begin with. All he knows is that after the initial hard drop—where he cries for what feels like hours, until his eyes are puffy and his throat is raw—things start to feel lighter again. Much lighter than they have in a long time. All the problems in his life suddenly seem much simpler, so simple in fact that he shouldn't even be bothered to worry about them. All of those things were in the past, weren't they? They couldn't hurt him anymore? He is in the present, where things were finally starting to settle down and he could finally start living his life. "Start living" being synonymous with "start over" in a sense, at least for him.

Silver figures he has always been on his own really, and doesn't want to burden any of the people he's close to with whatever this is. He can handle it on his own! ...Except for the fact that being on his own when he feels so little is scary. He can never really tell when it's about to happen, and hasn't exactly told anyone about it either. Which wouldn't be a problem, if you don't take into consideration the whole scary to be alone aspect—not to mention the fact that he has trouble looking after himself since he can get pretty small. So it's a good thing he has his Pokémon there to keep an eye on him! Most often it's his Croconaw and (newly evolved) Weavile that are doing the minding after however, though they take on different roles. Croconaw typically takes on the role of protector, nudging him in the right direction—whether that be towards bed when it can tell he needs a nap or away from any perceived dangers. And Weavile tends to take on the role of playmate—bringing Silver any toys it might have happened across or acting as the seeker when they play hide and seek (knowing that the boy prefers to be the hider).

The routine of his Pokémon looking after him continues for some time, and Silver thinks that he's doing a pretty good job of keeping it under wraps. And maybe he is, to those that aren't very close with him. It doesn't take long for Lance to figure out something is up with the kid though. He's been keeping an eye on him since he was eleven, and so now that he's sixteen Lance thinks he's got a pretty good handle on what is and isn't typical Silver behavior. But he can't quite pin down what it is that's different, other than the fact that Silver seems softer at times, happier even. So it doesn't feel right to question it, and the one time that he does try to bring it up only results in the kid yelling at him to leave him alone. And so he adds delicate to the list of things Silver is now, although that last one he suspected might have been the case for some time. Needless to say Lance is concerned about the kid, and decides to pop in on him without telling him beforehand.

Lo and behold, Lance does walk in on the kid when he is up to something. The "something" not being what he had expected though. When he catches him unaware, Silver is playing—and yes, playing is the correct word much to Lance's amazement—with his Weavile and Croconaw. From the looks of things they are playing peekaboo. There's a playful Wea...wea...vile! followed by a string of giggles from Silver with an eager demand of Again, again!, a command that the Pokémon is more than happy to comply with as Weavile once again covers its eyes to repeat their little game. A game that would have continued for who knows how long, had Croconaw not alerted Silver to his presence; it looks more than a little defensive and is preparing to blast him out of the room with its water gun—its companion having abandoned playtime with the kid and making a lot of noise at him now—until Silver reaches for him and things click into place. Lance finally figures everything out, and only because it's laid out right in front of him. But more than anything it's his eyes, same color as their namesake and brimming with innocence. This is undoubtedly the softness that Lance had picked up on before and it's a softness that he finds he wants to protect.

Surprising as it was to find out about this part of Silver and for all the boy's fussing beforehand, he doesn't seem to mind it when he's small given that four year olds don't exactly have their walls put up yet. There's a tense moment when he starts to come back up that's fueled by worry—that Lance will tell (who exactly he isn't sure), or won't think him capable of being independent. But that moment never comes, and despite not having wanted to tell him and refusing to acknowledge it afterwards, Silver finds himself seeking out Lance often enough after that that he sort of becomes his cg without any talking it over. Even with Lance looking after Silver though, his Pokémon still make it a point to make sure he's doing a good job! Weavile especially makes a point to correct him—oftentimes switching things out to pre-emptively prevent a meltdown, standing on its tiptoes to reach the counter and switching the (incorrect, yucky, bad) Cyndoquil patterned sippy cup with the (correct, prefered, superior) Totodile patterned one while Lance is turned getting juice from the fridge, or rushing over with his soft gray blanket while Lance fumbles to find his Ditto squishmallow.

Lance makes it a point to spoil Silver and give him all of those experiences he missed out on the first time around, whether they be tiny things or major ones. The kid is tired? No worries, he'll get Dragonite to carry the little guy until he's either fallen asleep or is ready to walk on his own again. Is he getting listless? He's going to surprise him with a trip to visit Clair (who, as much as Lance takes on a big brother role, has found herself taking on a big sister role to her cousin's charge). She spoils him even more than Lance does if possible, buying him lots of Pokémon dolls and even making his Pokémon special berry blocks. Silver never really thought he'd have any semblance of a family, but this thing he has going with Lance? And with Clair? It's something that he never wants to end.

#sfw agere #pokemon #pokemon agere #pokemon silver #agere pokemon silver #pokemon lance #agere pokemon lance #moons hcs

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-Season 2, Episode 12, Part 2 ("Richard In Stars Hollow")

Part 1 and all other episodes here

"You built me a car?" "I built you a car." Version 2.0:

Yes it has already been established that a car has been built.

Sorry Lorelai, he's not gonna build you a plane for you to fuck him in. #SexPlane

Let's see how Lorelai takes this completely factual observation.

If your grandfather had pulled out your father wouldn't exist and I wouldn't be here listening to "you built me a car" again and having to hear about Lorelai's Sex With Dean Plane. What does your father and grandfather being good with cars have to do with anything? How does that make you a mechanic? Where's that motorcycle you supposedly had in season 1? Why is your scarf so ugly? I bet that coat you're wearing smells. That haircut is so stupid. It's that time again! Time for "Dean proceeds to get a very snippy attitude with an adult and Lorelai doesn't care because he's not Jess and she wants to fuck him on their Sex Plane."

You're a certified Butthead, that's all you are.

Gotta love Lorelai jeopardizing her daughter's life by letting her drive some death trap built by a 17 year old butthead with zero automotive experience because "it's a nice thing he did." It's not a fucking ceramic mug he made for her in a pottery class, it's a car. He built her a car (did you catch that yet?) Lorelai just gets more and more insufferable and we're only at the halfway mark of season 2. It will continue to go downhill from here. *straps in* Isn't this the car that Jess totals in Teach Me Tonight? That's the only good thing to come out of that wretched episode.

Rory, you gotta stop with that sad puppy face, you're breaking my heart. If he's so fucking good at bulding cars why didn't he do that for a living after high school instead of just being a career butthead? Why didn't he go to automotive school or something and keep himself busy and do something to contribute to society instead of trapping poor Lindsay into making his meatloaf? (#JusticeForLindsay) Why is his face so god damn punchable? I hate everything about you, sir. I wish you would perish. Truly. He claims Gypsy inspected the car (I think this is the first time she's mentioned on the show?) but literally 30 seconds ago Richard asked him "have you even driven it past a mechanic?" and he said no, but now all of a sudden all of these people have inspected the car. Butthead continues to snip at, make sarcastic comments to, and raise his voice at Richard. Rory and Lorelai just stand there. I'm not convinced Butthead can even read no less build a complicated piece of machinery. Richard and Dean mosey on over to Gypsy's in their respective cawrs so Butthead can prove to Richard that his Death Trap is safe. Gypsy inspects Dean's Metal Box of Death and declares there is absolutely nothing wrong with Dean's handiwork. He did a perfect job. We are to believe this 17 year old butthead who had to fake knowing how to read to impress Rory and is not in the automotive trade made aboslutely zero mistakes building a car from a scratch. Mmmkay.

Really? Great! That was the plan all along.

...should have pulled out. We learn a little more about Butthead's family history besides the fact that his father's pullout game is weak. His father has a shop where he sells and installs stereos. His mother transcribes medical records. And that was your peek into the exciting World of Butthead.

While it feels like every breath and eye blink exchanged between R&J has had a PHd thesis written about it at some point, there are some scenes that nobody seems to care about, like this one? It got to a point that I never saw it on Twitter and Instagram and between viewings of the show I would start to think I must have imagined it. Why, I don't know. Because it's cute as heck and it's one his more clever pranks. Certainly better than the chalk outline.

You gotta love Jess putting dirty movies into G-rated movie boxes. Unlike the chalk outline prank, he did it purely to get back at the people who had screwed Rory over. My sweet baby.

How utterly depressing that this is not even a joke anymore and a completely true statement in the year 2023.

No. No bye. You stay right here. *holds him hostage* Let's enjoy a few screen shots of pure unadulterated joy.

HE'SS JUST A BABY.

PURE JOY.

#gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #richard in stars hollow #joyyyyy #milo ventimiglia