#and we have testing and stuff but it's just

[natsaffection]

Mafias Mistress pt. 5 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) BDSM STUFF - Restraints, spanking, flogging, vibrator use, nipple clamp use, edging, overstimulation, strap on (r receive), fingering, choking, rough sex

Word Count: 3,8k

A/N: Pure Smut below..we are slowly coming to the end🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

You were startled awake by the sound of your bedroom door bursting open. You sit up, eyes widening, and see Natasha standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of anger and urgency. The morning light casts long shadows in the room, making Natasha's presence even more imposing.

"What do you want?" you ask annoyed. You had hoped for some peace and quiet, but Natasha's sudden appearance dashed that hope.

Natasha walks into the room, her eyes flashing, "I have a high-ranking visitor today. Important people here for business. You are not leaving this room tonight. Do you understand me?"

You crossed your arms, your irritation growing. "And why would I ? Are you afraid of embarrassing you?" Natasha's eyes narrowed. "I'm not in the mood for games, Y/N. If you leave this room tonight, you will suffer the consequences. Serious consequences.”

You feel a spark of defiance flare up inside you. “We’ll see.” Natasha leans closer to you, her voice a deadly whisper. “I’m serious, Y/N. Don’t test me.”

As Natasha leaves the room and slams the door behind her, your mind raced. You knew this was your chance to get revenge on Natasha for the humiliation you endured last night. An idea began to form and a determined smile spread across your face. This time you will win, consequences or not.

As the evening came, the mansion bustled with activity, you made your move. You chose a short, form-fitting dress, the fabric shimmering in the light. It was provocative, designed to attract attention and elicit a reaction from Natasha.

You decided to forget underwear, knowing it would drive Natasha crazy. With one last look in the mirror, you take a deep breath and leave your room. The halls were filled with Natasha's men, their eyes widening in shock and fear when they saw you. You move purposefully, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Maria spots you first, her eyes widening in horror. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" she whispered urgently. "She kill you first and then me. Go back, I mean it."

You grin, your defiance only growing. "Don't worry, Maria. "Just look." As you walked through the mansion, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. The tension in the air was palpable, a mixture of fear and excitement. You finally reach the main hall, where the high-ranking visitors mingle.

Natasha had been speaking to a visitor, a man with a smug expression and a condescending tone. He leaned closer to Natasha, his gaze wandering around. "You know, Natalia, you always manage to keep things interesting. That girl over there," he said, nodding toward you, "looks like she's here to entertain us."

Natasha followed his gaze and her blood froze when she saw you. The dress was short, far too short, and every curve was provocatively accentuated. Natasha's grip on her glass tightened, the warning she had given you earlier ringing in her ears.

"Excuse me for a moment." Natasha walked toward you, handed her glass to a nearby waiter and stopped you in your tracks, "What the hell are you wearing?" Natasha hissed, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the side. The grip was firm, but not painful.

You looked up at her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "A few thousand of your dollars," you answered casually. "The dress is so short, you don't even have to take it off."

Natasha's eyes sparked with anger and something darker, more primal. You took Natasha's hand and slid it between your thighs. Her breath caught when she realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"You think this is a game?" Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of anger and desire. "You think you can just walk out of here like that?" Your heart raced, but you kept your composure, "Maybe I do," you answered firmly. "Maybe I wanted to know if it still meant something to you."

Natasha's hand tightened around your thigh, her breath hot against your ear. "Oh, it means something to me," she whispered, her voice full of promise. "But you're playing with fire." Your body shook with anticipation, your pulse quickened. "Maybe I like the heat," you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

Natasha's control wavered, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. "You have no idea what you're doing," she said, her voice strained. You leaned closer, your lips touching Natasha's ear. "Then show me," you challenged, your voice a seductive whisper.

For a moment, Natasha's anger seemed to disappear, replaced by a burning desire. She pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. "You want to play games?" she murmured, her voice a low growl. "Let's play."

You caught your breath as Natasha's hand slid further up your thigh, her touch possessive and tender at the same time. “I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered. “Not anymore.”

Natasha's eyes darkened, her grip tightening. "You should be," she whispered back, her voice a dangerous promise. "Oh, and when I'm done with you, you'll know exactly why."

Just as the tension between you reached its peak, Natasha pulled back abruptly. She signaled to two of her men who were quickly approaching. "Take her to my room," Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. "And make sure she doesn't come out."

The men nodded with serious expressions as they grabbed you by the arms. You struggled against their grip, fear creeping into you as you realized Natasha was serious. The men were rough, dragging you through the mansion to Natasha's private quarters.

"Natasha, hey!" you shouted, your voice shaking. "You can't do that! Natasha!!" But Natasha's face remained a mask of anger and determination. "You wanted to play games, Y/N. Now you'll see what happens."

You were pushed into Natasha's room, the door slamming behind you. The men stood guard outside, their presence a reminder of Natasha's authority. Your heart raced, the reality of the situation sinking in. Shit..

In the silence of the room, you could hear your own heartbeat, fear mixed with lingering desire. You realized you had underestimated Natasha's anger and thought it was all an act. But Natasha's anger was real, and you were now trapped by your own actions.

As the minutes passed, your nervousness grew. You had to find a way to make things right, to maybe calm Natasha down after all. You approached the door and knocked softly. There was no answer, just the oppressive silence and the presence of the guards outside. You sank to the floor, your mind racing.

Hours had passed since Natasha had ordered you to be taken to her room. The villa had gone quiet, the high-ranking visitors gone, leaving an atmosphere of tension and unease. You sat on the edge of the bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Natasha and the consequences of your actions.

Outside, Maria approached cautiously, her voice gentle. "Natasha, you have to calm down. This won't help." Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "She thinks this is a game, Maria. She doesn't understand the danger she's in."

"Then show her," Maria suggested quietly. "But not as you are now. Talk to her. Help her understand." Natasha looked at her and took a breath. She ran past Maria, "Not today."

The door squeaked open and your heart was in your throat. Natasha stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, a dark intensity in her eyes. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click. "Natasha," you began, your voice shaking. "I-"

"Enough," Natasha interrupted, her voice cold and commanding. "You've gone far again today." Before you could react, Natasha grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. The grip was firm and unyielding, sending a shiver of fear down your spine. "Natasha, please, I'm sorry..." you begged, but Natasha's expression remained hard.

Without a word, Natasha led you down the hallway, never loosening her grip. You descended a staircase you'd never noticed before, the air growing cooler and more threatening with each step.

You reached a heavy wooden door, which Natasha pushed open, revealing a dimly lit room with an array of appliances and devices. It was Natasha's playroom. Bigger, redder and much more equipped than the room in Natasha's apartment.

Adrenaline rushed through you as you realized what was coming. "No, Natasha, wait," you begged, trying to pull away. Natasha's grip tightened, her eyes dark with determination. "You wanted to play games, Y/N. Now you'll see the consequences."

She pulled yourself in front of her so she could look at you. She paused for a moment and looked deep into your eyes. "Do you remember your safe word?"

You blinked, your confusion evident. "Yes," you answered, your voice shaking slightly. "Red." Natasha nodded, a hint of relief crossing her face. "Good. Remember, you can use it anytime. I won't stop otherwise."

She dragged you to a large, imposing X in the middle of the room that was equipped with restraints. With practiced ease, Natasha tied your wrists and ankles to the posts so that you stood stretched out and vulnerable.

Natasha paused, her eyes softening for a moment before she steeled herself. "You have to understand something, Y/N," she said with a low growl. "My world is dangerous. You can't just play games and expect there to be no consequences."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your fear mixed with a strange feeling of anticipation, and you remembered why you got into this situation in the first place. You have a goal.

"Maybe I'll enjoy the consequences?"

Natasha's eyes flickered with emotion, but she remained determined. "We'll see about that," she growled. Her voice held a promise that took your breath away with anticipation. With practiced ease and skill, Natasha leaned forward, running her fingertips along the curve of your arm and down to the soft curve of your chest. "You will learn to submit," she whispered, her fingers playing with the goosebumps that formed before her touch. “What you saw back at home is nothing compared to this."

Your pulse quickened as Natasha moved behind you. You felt the cool touch of a leather whip sliding down your back and couldn't help the involuntary trembling. "Oh, I like that trembling," Natasha cooed in your ear, biting your earlobes. "I'm going to enjoy this more than you..."

The scent of your arousal filled the air, an intoxicating aroma that Natasha didn't want to deny herself. She slid a hand between your thighs and rubbed your wet pussy lips, eliciting a gasp from you, the frightened but eager newcomer.

"Open your mouth," Natasha ordered, her voice rough and commanding. You obediently opened your lips and Natasha slid two fingers into your mouth, rubbing them firmly against your tongue and gums. "You do realize that you're not supposed to like this, right?"

You moaned, filled with a mixture of fear and desire as your body shook in response. With a cruel glint in her eyes, Natasha filled your mouth and with her other hand she pinched and pulled cruelly at your nipples.

"That's it, take it all," Natasha hissed, her voice almost a growl now. "Show me how much you want it." You moaned and your head fell back against the iron cross. You could hear the wetness between your legs dripping onto the smooth leather carpet beneath you.

The sound of the whip falling onto your skin sounded like a gunshot in your ears, sending shocks of pleasure and pain throughout your body. Natasha ran the evil instrument down your back, thighs and buttocks, letting its cruel spikes bite deep into your skin.

You struggled against your bonds, lost somewhere between agony and ecstasy. Natasha paused, her attention lingering on the delicate skin at the crease where your legs met her body. You tensed as you felt a soft feather tickle you, and you broke out in a cold sweat.

“shh,” Natasha whispered, “just feel.” She pulled the feather higher, reaching your quivering sex. Your head fell back in surrender as you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt the sting of the feather disappear, replaced by the delicate caress of something softer, a feather-light touch just beneath your sex. You winced as Natasha’s lips found the sensitive underside of one of your breasts, sucking and nibbling hungrily.

“Fuck!” you screamed, your hips bucking toward Natasha’s mouth just as she felt the cruel bite of the whip on the exposed curves of your ass. Natasha grinned and dragged the leather instrument teasingly across your folds. “Beg,” she purred, tugging at one of your sensitive nipples with her teeth.

You whimpered and struggled against the bonds as Natasha’s harsh words sent waves of shame and desire through you. "Make me." You gasped, grinning in her face. Natasha ripped the dress off of you, leaving your stomach bare and trembling. Suddenly, cool metal closed around your nipples and a rush of pleasure ran through your body as the metal began to vibrate.

"W-What.." you gasped, struggling against the bonds that pinned you to the cross. Natasha's grin widened at your reaction and she twisted one of the clamps before another low hum filled the air.

"You should hold still while I do that," she purred as she moved the vibrating object over your sensitive clitoris, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No, Natasha! I-I- Too much..!" You tried to catch your breath as the sensations overwhelmed you. The clamps pulled on your sensitive nipples, increasing each touch. "Natasha...please, n-no more!!" you whimpered. But Natasha just laughed softly.

"Oh, my love, we're just getting started," Natasha teased, running her tongue over your heaving breast. She pressed the vibrating object harder against your clit, making your hips twitch helplessly.

"F-FUCK!" you screamed as you writhed in the leather restraints. Your body burned; all reason dissolved in the rush of pleasure. Your legs and chest twitched uncontrollably, seeking any friction to quell the pain that demanded release.

Natasha kept her eyes fixed on your writhing object as she played with the vibrating device, running it up and down your labia and teasing your throbbing clit. With each pass, she felt your desire grow as your resolve weakened. "I-I'm begging you! Ple-ase!" you gasped, your voice a hoarse plea.

Natasha stood there, enjoying the sight of the shaking, exhausted girl before her. For now, she was content to watch you tremble and pant with a deliciously dazed expression on your face.

Natasha growled deep in her throat as she slid her hand between your legs. "Oooh, God-d!" you cried out, your already flushed cheeks glowing even hotter. "You don't need him," Natasha chuckled darkly into the folds of your wet entrance. She enjoyed the way you tensed and writhed against her. "Just me," Natasha teased, pressing her fingers into your heated core in one quick, unyielding motion.

Your eyelids fluttered closed as Natasha mercilessly added a third finger, stretching you wide. Your heart was pounding wildly and your mind was reeling - a dizzying cocktail of pain and rapture.

Natasha seized the opportunity, her lips grasping the sensitive outline of your tight bud as she pushed her fingers deeper inside you. You cried out once more before your orgasm fully took hold, increasing tension gripping your entire body as the waves arched and crashed over you.

Natasha let you ride the wave before she pulled her fingers back. “Your pretty ass is about to be mine." With a quick movement, she ran her nails along the crack of your ass.

"N-No!" you cried, your body tense as Natasha stood behind you. "Relax or it will hurt even more," Natasha ordered, spanking your ass hard. Your body twitched violently, pushing the restraints further.

"Listen carefully," she said, admiring your shaking body from behind, "You will count out loud with each lash of my whip. If you fail, I will start over. Do you understand?"

You whimpered and nodded your head vigorously. Sweat ran down your forehead and you could feel the heat radiating from Natasha's body, the woman's skin seemed to burn. And then came the first lash.

"One," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the blood pounding in your ears. Natasha smiled, her eyelids drooping lazily as she raised the whip high above her head.

A wicked glint danced in her deep green eyes, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat as the whip came down again, landing hard on your trembling, flushed skin.

"Two..." you let out a sigh as a deep, painful throb raced through your body. You weakly struggled to find purchase against the shackles around your wrists and ankles, but it was useless. You had nowhere to go and you had no choice but to hold on.

Your breathing became shallower and more desperate as the seconds ticked by, your head a whirlwind of emotions. Natasha kept her eyes on your beautiful, trembling form as she mercilessly swung her whip, marking your flesh with each strike. Your body arched with each strike, your cries mingling with Natasha's own animalistic growls.

Finally exhausted, she lowered the whip and let it hang limply from her hand. The sickly, sweet smell of sweat and desire hung in the air as Natasha strode toward you, her gaze fixed on the exhausted subordinate's trembling physical form.

With a wicked, lustful grin, Natasha knelt before you and pushed your ankle shackles apart, revealing the pink welts that marked your bottom, still glowing from the cruel discipline you had just endured.

"Would you like to try counting again, my love?" Natasha purred, her voice dripping with malice. You shook your head, your exhausted body desperate and still shaking from the intense burn of the whip.

"I d-don't, I can't...anymore," you said exhaustedly. "We'll see," Natasha's voice sounded cold and threatening above you, as she released your bonds, your arms fell limply to your side and your legs had no strength to hold you up. Natasha caught you and carried you over to a bed.

She leaned closer, examining the marks she had left on your supple skin, then ran her fingers over the angry red lines. "Does it hurt?" Natasha whispered hoarsely in your ear, her warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "Answer me," Natasha demanded, her voice harder now. "Do you feel pain?"

"Y-Yes," you whispered dejectedly. "Good." Natasha grinned wildly as she lowered her lips to your neck, placing hot, wet kisses and leaving little love bites. You whimpered softly, throwing your head back as you arched to meet Natasha's exploring lips.

With a harsh giggle, Natasha grabbed your thighs and opened them wide. You gasped as the cold air rose and hit your heated core. A deep blush flooded your cheeks as Natasha kissed your inner thighs, eliciting a moan from her submissive.

"Look at you," Natasha murmured in agreement, her voice sensual and deep, vibrating deliciously. "You want this so fucking bad, that tight little cunt is just begging for relief."

A dark shiver ran through you at the crude language. It sent shivers down your spine, your nipples poking out like greedy little peaks in her leather bralette. Your body needed to be conquered, craved the taste of domination. And who better to give it to you than Natasha?

"Are you ready, moya lyubov?" Natasha purred, her eyes dark and intense as she reached under the bed and pulled out a strap-on. "Yes," you breathed, unable to look away from the dominant woman. Without warning, Natasha thrust forward, filling you with a wild, animalistic hunger. She gripped your thighs tightly and held them still as she thrust into you with wild abandon.

You screamed in pleasure, the pain of your welts fading in the face of your overwhelming pleasure. Natasha leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your passionate cries as she continued to plunder your depths.

Your tongues dueled and parried, each thrust and retreat bringing you closer to the edge. "Cum for me," Natasha whispered hoarsely, pulling back just enough to meet your wide eyes.

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching around Natasha as you neared your release. "I'm... I'm going to...!" you screamed, unable to hold back the tidal wave of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back and your body tensed as you felt the orgasm rip through you. This time Natasha watched your body shudder in release, delighting in how you screamed and squirmed in surrender to her dominance.

She paused for a moment, staring hungrily at your flushed, sweat-covered features as she occasionally groped you as you screamed and squirmed. "So beautiful, so perfect. You can feel me deep inside you, feel you falling apart under my touch, brought to the edge." Then she increased her speed, her movements becoming more reckless; her eyes blazing with the intensity of her desire.

"Fuck N-Natasha, wai-it!" With each thrust, your cries grew louder, the bedposts clacked rhythmically against the wall as natasha desperately searched for release. You tossed your head from side to side, your breasts bouncing and jumping, your hair making a mess of the expensive silk sheets.

"Stay still," Natasha demanded, her voice low and threatening, but there was something whispered in that command that sent a shiver of anticipation through your body, making it impossible for you to resist. Your breath came in ragged gasps and your eyes fluttering shut.

"Stay with me, little one.” Natasha demanded, her voice deep and commanding. You obeyed immediately, your wide eyes meeting Natasha's. "That's better," Natasha said, satisfaction shining in her eyes. "I'm the boss here and you will do what I say. Do you finally understand that now?”

You cried out and arched your back as your body endured the hard thrust, your clit rubbing against the thick base of the strap-on with each thrust. Natasha bit her lip, her eyes on you as she pushed in deeper, hitting the spot that made your whole body twitch with pleasure. "Oh, God!" you screamed as another wave of pleasure raced through your body. "Scream my name," Natasha hissed. "Say it!"

You could barely form words at this point, let alone remember what Natasha had ordered, but you felt Natasha's hands close around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make your speech sound garbled and unintelligible. "Nn... ta...asha!" You gagged, your body writhing under Natasha's grip.

"Fuck Y/n!!" she breathed as she thrust into you one last time, the dildo glistening with your shared wetness. Your body froze beneath her, your eyes rolling back as you reached the peak of your orgasm. Your loud, throaty screams filled the room as you came for the third time, your body a limp, sated mess, sprawled on the bed.

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🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

[lemon-lime-limbo]

𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖙? | 𝖆 𝖇𝖓𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

warnings: COLLEGE AU, reader does have a female roommate, reader is a nursing major, idk probably ooc bakugou ngl, soft! bakugou, bakugou has hyperhidrosis, possible tw for medical scenarios (no needles, just mentions of stuff like that), jirou and denki are dating teehee

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

note: i typed this so fast that my fingers started locking up LMAO anyway bakugou with hyperhidrosis is my guilty pleasure i love it so much and also can u tell i took medical classes... i tried to make it accessible but also flex my knowledge. enjoy!

When your professor told you about your upcoming project a few classes ago, you sighed in annoyance. You loved being a nursing major, and medical labs came easily to you. But those labs were always done with classmates, and your professor supposed you needed to work with fresh patients, ones you hadn’t gotten accustomed to. A valid suggestion, although it then tasked you with finding six willing participants. And as one can imagine, those were few and far between, and tracking down a sixth person was proving to be much more difficult than you had hoped.

You had already done the lab on your two neighbors you shared a kitchen with, your roommate, Kyoka Jirou, and also her boyfriend, Denki, who was just happy to be there. However, you were still one short. Denki offered to ask his friends to help, and although you were grateful, you couldn’t imagine any of them would be willing to be a test subject for a stranger, and you can’t say you would feel much differently in their position, so you declined. Of course, you could always fake it and just make up random data, but your professor was monitoring how many people you brought into the lab via a sign-in sheet, so you had to use real people.

After class, you went back to your dorm to mope about your future bad grade on your assignment. “Hey,” Kyoka said from her bed, back against the wall with her boyfriend’s head in her lap. 

That was when you saw him. Slouched down in your twin-sized loft bed filled to the brim with stuffed animals was Denki’s hot blonde friend, Katsuki Bakugou. You had gotten only a few chances to speak to him at Denki’s dorm parties, but from what he told you, aside from his general lack of complaisance, Bakugou was a fun person to be around. Aggressive, but still good company, apparently. He was your party crush that would sometimes talk to you. You were too scared to ask for his number, and he always disappeared promptly after every party. But while he was there, his eyes never left you.

Today, he wore an oversized black hoodie, and his baggy black pants had multiple straps hanging from them. One leg dangled over the edge of your mattress, his clunky black boots on the floor by your desk, buried in the fur of your fluffy rug. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes glued to his phone screen with his other arm casually behind his head.

You were embarrassed, both by your messy side of the room, and by all the stuffed animals on your bed. He clearly didn’t care, however, squashing quite a few plushies under his body, their plastic eyes bulging out of fluffy sockets. 

Dodging wads of clothes and cords from musical equipment, you made your way to your desk to set your backpack down, dodging his leg as you ducked under the loft bed. “You, um… You didn’t tell me we would have company…” you said to Kyoka, wishing you had dressed up a bit more for your previous class. You always expected her boyfriend to be over, but this was definitely a surprise. She knew you found him attractive, but you’re not sure she grasped the real gravity of the situation.

She laughed sheepishly. “Sorry… But I do have good news.”

“Go on.” You kicked off your own shoes onto your rug before trying to gather up some of the papers on your desk to help with the mess.

“Well, it took a bit of convincing, and a bit of bribery, but Denki found you a final person!” You turned to see her doing jazz-hands from her bed. 

Your eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

She nodded, a devious smile on her face. “You got it. Meet Denki’s friend from high school.” If you hadn’t been staring right at her in shock, you would have missed the wink she shot at you. 

“Nice to see you,” you said after taking a moment to regain your composure, looking over the edge of your bed at him. He gave you a nod in acknowledgement, eyes snapping to yours and trailing downwards. You looked away awkwardly, feeling like a museum exhibit.

“I know you told me not to ask my friends,” Denki said, sitting up with a yawn. “But I couldn’t help myself.”

You wished you could be mad at him for going against your wishes, but you were just glad to finally be able to finish your project and to not have to scrounge campus for a semi-willing participant. Even though his choice of victim seemed to be a challenge to see how professional you can keep yourself. “Well, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” You leaned against one of the wooden posts of your bed frame. “I definitely owe you one!”

His eyes darted from yours nervously. “Let’s wait until after you do your thing to decide that…” Denki just hoped you wouldn’t kill him when you got back to your dorm. In fact, he was already running through ideas and excuses to not be there when you did get back.

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head with a suspicious squint.

An aggravated sigh drew your attention to your bed above you. “Where are we going for your little experiment?” Bakugou said.

You frowned at the thought of it being an experiment. While technically your project was science, as all nursing is, this assignment wasn’t anything more than gathering data and practicing your application of the techniques you learned. An experiment would entail a hypothesis and more focus on the science aspects. You almost made the clarification, but you lost your nerve when you looked at him again. “The lab is right by building B,” you said. “It’s open now, if you want to-”

“Fine.” He jumped off your bed before you could react and yanked his boots on. “Let’s go,” he grumbled, pulling harshly on the side zippers as you took a few seconds to process what had just occurred.

You hurried to put your own shoes on before he walked out the door, almost leaving you in the dust as you rushed to catch up to him after grabbing your backpack. Once outside, you were grateful you wore your jacket, the brisk air whipping around and stinging your cheeks as the sun went down. You walked next to each other, and you were determined to make this as transactional as possible, no matter what the heart threatening to erupt out of your ribs was saying. And it had very much to say, you found out. You didn't want to be presumptuous, and he was only supposed to help you with your assignment and be on his way, but it became increasingly difficult to keep the heat out of your face. You hardly noticed Bakugou’s soft jangling, the chains and straps on his pants rattling together, or the way his eyes occasionally fixed themselves on you, yours stuck down at the sidewalk under your feet. 

Building B was the building closest to your dorm, to which you were extremely grateful. It only took a few minutes of awkward silence to get there. You fumbled to grab your keycard out of the pocket of your jeans, the beep of the machine echoing through the small alcove as you pressed your card against it.

The large glass doors slid open soundlessly and you walked in, the stuffy room between the next set of doors so insulated from any sounds all you could hear was your own breathing. Through the second set was the medical lab, the large panels of windows casting a sunset glow over the equipment that had been left out. Community lab coats hung on a hook by the door. Several small doors lined the circular room, each door leading to a separate room for practicing medical exams. The sign-up sheet for your class was posted on a clipboard on the countertop beside a sink. 

Boxes of latex-free rubber gloves were lined up on the central counter, next to piles of stethoscopes and blood-pressure cuffs. As you signed in on the clipboard, writing your name and Bakugou’s in one of the tiny boxes, he wandered the lab, picking up random things and putting them back down after turning them in his hands a few times. You were grateful for the spray bottles of alcohol scattered about the room and in every smaller office, which you sprayed on the equipment you chose.

“Okay. Let’s see…” you said before scanning the small rooms, peeking into each one to check for other students. All of them were deserted, so you chose a random one, Bakugou following you inside. A table and a small chair were the only things in the room, aside from the counter and sink. “All I have to do is take your blood pressure and we’ll be done!” You set your backpack down and pulled out your lab sheet.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “You brought me all the way here, just for this?”

You nodded. “Yes. Now, please sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, dumbass,” he said, but he sat down anyway, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. 

Your back was to him as you put your stethoscope on, scanning your paper’s instructions. When you turned back around, your eyes immediately widened and your face went hot. “What, um… What are you doing?” you stammered. Bakugou was in the process of removing his sweatshirt, revealing a plain black tank top and a muscular frame you weren’t expecting, although you tried not to imagine what he looked like under his baggy clothes.

“What’s it look like? Can’t take my blood pressure with my sleeves in the way. I thought you, a nursing major, would’ve known that.” His snide tone and his condescending smirk made you embarrassed. Admittedly, you didn’t even think about it. It irritated you that he somehow did, and it irritated you even more that he was right. You tried not to stare, not at the way his blond hair stuck out in every direction, or the way his tank top stretched over his broad chest, or the way his hand lay relaxed in his lap, palm up and waiting for you to begin.

The velcro of the sphygmomanometer was loud in the small room as you peeled it open, nervously taking Bakugou’s arm to wrap it around the thick muscle. He was so attractive you couldn’t help but look away, busying yourself with finding the inflation bulb. From this distance, you could smell his cologne, strong and masculine, and it filled your lungs like dense smoke. You had to will yourself to stay focused, to prevent yourself from fainting where you stood. “Can you hold this for me?” 

“Fine,” he said, and you placed the pressure gauge into his other hand. When your hands brushed, you took notice of how sweaty his palms were. You also noticed how he flinched slightly when you touched him. His breathing was even, but he looked at you intensely, like he had to think about each breath to keep himself alive. It was nerve-wracking being so close to him. So many times you tried to gain the confidence to talk to him, but you always chickened out as soon as you made eye contact across the room. Sometimes, he would talk to you first, but one of his friends always ruined the moment by begging him to do a keg-stand.

Staring straight at the gauge in his hand, you filled up the cuff, rapidly squeezing until it was thirty millimeters above resting. You pressed the stethoscope into the crook of his elbow, not noticing the beads of sweat on his skin, careful to keep your fingers off the back of the stethoscope bell. 

When the heartbeat stopped, you slowly twisted the dial on the side to release a bit of air. The heartbeat resumed, and you mentally wrote down the number on the dial. It stopped again, so you released the rest of the air out of the cuff. Pulling your stethoscope out of your ears, you reached to remove the cuff, velcro ripping from itself. His eyes never left you, watching the way your hands moved to slide the cuff off.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, abruptly, fingers fiddling with the tubes of the sphygmomanometer as you took the gauge out of his hand. He shrugged. You turned to set your equipment on the counter and write your data on your paper. “Do I make you nervous?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” he snickered.

You laughed nervously, eyes meeting his as you turned around. “Well, it’s just that… You’re really sweaty.”

His smug expression had never left so fast. His hands grabbed his hoodie, scrambling to pull it over his head with a muttered, “Shit…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything!” You scrambled to fix your mistake, but the words had already left you.

Adjusting the hood of his hoodie, he avoided your gaze. He didn’t seem like the type to feel shame, but the expression on his face made you think otherwise. “Just forget it!” 

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “I shouldn’t have pointed it out. I’m sorry.”

“I just… I forgot to take my medication today. I’ve got, uh… this condition…” He trailed off as you began gathering your equipment, going back into the main lab to clean it again with alcohol.

“Hyperhidrosis?”

He blinked a few times. “Yeah, how’d you-?”

“Nursing major,” you reminded him, placing your tools in their respective piles. 

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. Anyway, just don’t… Just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

You placed a hand over your heart. “Your secret is safe with me,” you swore. You looked around the lab for anything else you needed to take care of. “So anyway, what did Denki have to do to get you to help me?”

He looked at you, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “He told me you’d go out with me if I did.”

You froze. “He- He did what?” Oh, you were so going to kill him. Knowing him, he’d make himself scarce, but he couldn’t be hard to track down.

“So, how about it? I never do anything for free.” Bakugou walked backwards into the door, pushing it open for you.

You laughed. “As long as you promise to help me kill Denki afterwards.”

[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

[covidsafehotties]

I know this sounds like an extremely stupid question to ask, but... Will the pandemic ever end or has stuff like this, these mass disabling and killing viruses, been under our nose as a society the entire time and COVID is simply the first time many people have noticed? Has the way we gathered always been a plague zone? I feel like it might be true but I'm not entirely sure.

Other countries have lived under far greater threat of epidemics for longer than you've been alive. It's a privilige that it's been outside your notice in places like Africa and Pacific Asia. It's part of why masking is still such a non-issue in most of Asia: They've been through this before. This is just the first time in a long time a disease spun so out of control, mostly because we've been consistently defunding and ignoring public health. The likes of antivaxxers have been sowing enough doubt via popular culture for decades now on top of the American and European exceptionalism that drives the worsr "you do you" politics, making collective action all but impossible. Covid really was just a perfect storm in a lot of ways, but the reason it's still this bad and not going away is 100% government complacency: they got tired of footing the bill to keep people safe and convinved everyone it was an individual issue, not an existential threat. It's highly unlikely covid will just dissapear without major collective action, and by "major collective action" I mean incredibly simple things like improving access to testing/healthcare, installing better ventilation and air scrubbing in buildings, and asking people to mask around others until numbers actually go down while keeping them genuinely informed instead of just saying "it's fine :) it's fine :)" while people get disabled and die en mass.

[xsezzie]

The Table

Warnings: Tickle fic?? Maybe some slight suggestiveness because it is Kaveh's butt we are tickling

Characters/Ship: Alhaitham/Kaveh

Okay I just really wanted to write a little something about that damn table that I am not jealous of at all.........

Again. Kaveh was putting his ass on the table. The place they eat, drink, and read. And now here he was, sitting right next to the fruit bowl on the table.

“Kaveh, how many times have I told you not to sit on the table?”

The blond scowls, but quickly turns to a smug smile and crosses his arms defiantly.

“I can sit where I damn well please!”

“Next to me or in my lap would be nicer.” Alhaitham deadpans, causing Kaveh to sputter.

“H-How are you able to say stuff like that without getting flustered… please teach me!”

“If I teach you, then it won’t be fun anymore to mess with you.”

Kaveh sighed in resignation, leaning further back on the table, lightly bumping some of the bowls and cups.

“Anyway, I am going to continue planting my butt here. Since when did you start to care about the state of the home? I am the one always cleaning up after you.”

“As cute as your ass is, I don’t want it near the food.”

The architect flushed red and squawked, “Cute!? Alhaitham!”

An amused huff came from the Scribe as he put his book down and stood up to approach his partner.

“Yes, cute. You already know how nicely it fits into my hands.”

To prove his point, Alhaitham leaned between Kaveh’s legs and slid his hands under the blond’s butt on the table, causing him to squirm immediately.

“Alhaitham!!”

“What? It’s just us.”

“I-I know that but… that tickles!!”

“Oh?”

A curious squeeze was enough to make Kaveh kick at the younger man and fall backwards amongst the various items on the table. “Bwahahaha!! Cut it out!” Alhaitham dug his fingers into the soft part where the thighs meet the butt, causing the blond to thrash about and squeak.

“Stahahap!! Alhaitham p-please!”

Alhaitham couldn’t help but smile affectionately, but both of them were suddenly snapped out of it by the sound of a glass shattering on the floor.

“Ah…”

“Alhaitham!”

“You’re the one squirming around on the table you know? You should have sat in my lap.”

The younger man easily hoists his senior over his shoulder, causing more giggles and frantic kicking. The sounds of Kaveh’s nervous protests are music to Alhaitham’s ears, the only thing worth turning off the soundproofing in his headpieces.

“Y-You have to clean that up! Don’t even think about tickling me more! Later, you can tickle me later EEK!”

The scolding was silenced as Alhaitham threw Kaveh onto the divan and pressed him underneath him, resuming the prodding and squeezing of his, in Alhaitham’s words - ‘cute butt’.

“Alhaitham I SWEAR stahahahap~!”

“No, this spot needs to be tested. I must know all your ticklish spots and determine where they will sit on the scale.”

“Whahahat scale!?”

“The one in my head where I store important information, like how ticklish you are.”

“Dehehehelete iiihihit!!”

“No.”

The Scribe’s fingers continued to explore Kaveh’s backside, testing which areas seemed to get the best reaction. So far it was still near his thighs, so Alhaitham dug in.

“Alhaaahahahahaitham!! C-Come onhohon! Quit tickling my butt!”

“But it’s such the perfect shape.”

“Stahahaaap!!”

Alhaitham couldn’t resist testing this new spot, especially with the way that Kaveh squirmed and flailed, unable to push him away or even kick him. Meanwhile the architect thought he was going to die, this was way too ticklish, and he doesn’t even know how he could possibly even be ticklish in such a place.

His thoughts were interrupted by Alhaitham lifting his shirt up, intent on tickling two places at once.

“Dohohon’t!” Kaveh laughed even more, pushing the hem of his shirt back down, but his partner was too persistent, letting go of his tush to start tickling his stomach instead. Of course, this is just a million times more ticklish.

“GAHAHAHAA!! ALHAITHAM NOOOHOHOHOHOOO!!”

“I don’t think your butt will ever beat this spot though.”

The Scribe relishes in the sounds that are coming from his roommate, a loud but pleasant noise.

“YOU ARE THE WOOOOOORST!!”

“And yet, you still love me.”

[tamelee]

i just saw a posts about novels that went like

sarada told sasuke he has lipstick stain, sasuke tries to wipes it off and she says he doesn't have one and sakura doesn't wear lipstick.

how do they defend this novels with their lives? it confirms sasuke never kisses sakura and doesn't know if she wears lipstick or not and kisses someone else who wears lipstick. it also confirms naruto likes to wear lipstick XD.

Please. These novels are ridiculous. Kishimoto already confirmed they’ve never kissed in Gaiden. Twice. 

(* something nicer = meant the forehead poke)

Though I wouldn't believe anyone if they said they actually like these novels, because the story (or lack thereof) is complete shit, but it’s fine if they do. A good story isn't the intention unfortunately. I genuinely wish that people understood what exactly it is they are defending. I’m writing a post for someone who asked something regarding canon, but I need to take brakes from it because it pisses me off that this happens constantly to franchises— not just Naruto. 

And in this case it’s even worse, or perhaps it’s just a prime example, because Jun Esaka (writer for some of these novels) made such a fool of herself on twt by making it all too obvious what her intentions were by writing them. (If it wasn’t already obvious.) First, when people pointed out the many flaws, she admitted that it’s “just her story” and “just her interpretation” (she had only read 'Naruto' for the first time a few months before that), but when other ss-shippers started to defend her and said she was a better writer than Kishimoto (as there’s 0 love between SS when he writes), she basked in that glory and went along with it. Even to the point that she completely disrespected Kishimoto, the story, the craft, openly made fun of other characters (mostly Hinata) and ships like NH and demanded her other novels to be animated as well. It’s unprofessional af. And then when fans asked her for a nsfw novel for SS she agreed and told them to harass the company about it. (She didn’t say ‘harass’ exactly, but come on you can’t be that dense given their reputation with staff.)

What are they defending? 

How can you defend anything when the motive is so obviously just personal bias/gain and/or financial profit to a company where both in this case don’t give a shit about the original story. It's not about shipping though, it happens all the damn time to all my favorite franchises and I'm genuinely sick of it. And it's not even about a writer writing about what they want either because I already expected that, but Esaka did her absolute best to try and disprove the bond between Naruto and Sasuke and change narratives completely even for individual cases for the sake of telling her "story". SNS-moments weren’t romantic to her and she quite literally made fun of it by copying them in her story to point out its "irrelevance", but give them to her het-ship and now all of a sudden it is romantic???? She basically calls Kishimoto a liar because ‘Sasuke Retsuden’ in particular is a direct response to ‘Gaiden’ (made by Kishimoto). She blatantly tried to disprove anything he said and indicated about her ship. She wrote about characters that, yes, have the same name as those in ‘Naruto’, but are so out of character it hurts. It took me months to recover my lost braincells. 

I don't think my post about it is still up, but to name a few things in that novel if you're interested: Sasuke resents Naruto and his test-tube daughter because he’d rather travel with Sakura, his wife whom he loves so much. But he has to do stuff just because Hokage Naruto said so and his daughter wants to stay in Konoha so he has no choice but to comply. Being apart from his wife-(did we mention he loves her so much? because he does. so much.)- makes him feel so very lonely and he misses her body so much because he knows it so well. He fails to do anything other than being jealous about the women-deprived prisoners going after the new hot doctor, Sakura, who is his wife btw. that he loves a lot in case you missed it. and he rather stares at trees that remind him of her than helping his friend Naruto who’s apparently dying from his own chakra or whatever kind of bs. Sasuke lets himself be bullied by prison-guards that aren’t even Shinobi, for having long hair and looking like a girl, though Esaka makes sure to mention how so very handsome he is and he looks like a cat. Sasuke loses a battle against an overgrown lizard and tries the same damn jutsu 4 times(!!!!) before realizing it may actually not work, I think because he forgot how to fight, but he can however create anything from ice like Elsa (Frozen), or from dirt like some Gaara-hybrid to make Sakura a ring because he loves her so much ofc… oh and he’s now a healer too. Sasuke sacrifices people’s lives even when it’s not necessary at all bc ig Esaka thinks he's a killer, and also he wouldn’t mind being brought back with Edo Tensei if it means he can stay with Sakura, because fuck everything they’ve been through in the original story, yeah? They also immediately forgive the bad guy cuz he's so relatable even though he just murdered I dunno how many people. SS kiss while an injured Naruto is squished in between them because SS-shippers have some sort of “Naruto has to watch our ship being in love to really make it legit because that’ll learn him for getting in between!”-kink (that's real actually) and according to Esaka, Sasuke is so worried about his daughter and in fact did meet up with them during those 10+ years because he loves them oh-so-much and fuck you Kishimoto that’s why. 

Be so fr right now. It’s such a joke. And these are just the few things on the top of my head that I remembered ;-; ...

Again, what are they defending exactly? It would be nice to just have a genuine fan of the story write an actual story. No other motive other than "I really like the story and would love to explore some options while respecting Kishimoto's work because it'd be fun!" Except, that's unfortunately not very marketable and ffs it's just sad. (I know there's a Kakashi version and I personally really want to know more about his role as Hokage and what he's done etc, but alas.)

[tm87lord]

it's been a month since i started streaming (and therefore just over a month since i started trying out pixel art) so i'm sharing my brb screen and a couple of the other short pixel animations i've made exclusively in regular procreate for my twitch channel!!!! also i truly just forgot to share these here sorry.........

i'd always planned on just streaming as myself instead of having a character to stream with, but since it felt way too awkward to draw myself in my usual art style for a pngtuber......i started trying out pixel art instead a little over a month ago (?)..........and now my entire overlay is pixel art.....

i was also incredibly worried that i wouldn't be very talkative and that just watching me stream my art progress would become boring for those who stopped by, so i decided to add some interactive features like gacha-type commands for viewers to play with

but i also wanted a fun way to advertise said commands while giving viewers the option to focus on something else visually

so, inspired by those subway surfer/minecraft parkour reddit videos (lol) i tapped into my old flipnote hatena days and added a TV of various animated "channels" and "ads" to my overlay that can be turned on with the command !tv

(i have since proven that i'm actually an S grade yapper but the tv is still a fun time for everyone)

all of my channels (like everything else on my stream) are an amalgamation of media i've loved in the past, my personality/likes, and things i've watched on tv growing up!!

and yes that's indeed a self-insert shoujo anime jotaro confession episode based on my animal crossing island ok it was serious business and very involved.....

also everything was made entirely in regular procreate on ipad on a small 134x102px canvas! i have a tendency to not use shortcuts and use my art programmes like a caveman would, so i actually did not realise that the animation assist feature existed until the final 2 animations whoops

which meant to check the frames per second i would be test-exporting all of my layers (that i onion-skinned by hand lol) as an animated gif just to check the animation progress!!! i have since started using the assist but we started off truly dabbling in some unga bunga art fellas

anyway, thanks for reading all this if you did hehe i just wanted to document some stream stuff on my blog since i've been using this thing since 2013 and plan to keep using it for much longer.....have a good day and feel free to stop by and say hi during streams :¬)

thank you for being here!

[rainismdata]

I am obviously bad at this, but here we go.

What if House had a motorcycle accident in s3e8? The one when Wilson was waiting for the bus? Maybe Wilson had already on the bus or the taxi when it happened.

Either way, he got stopped by the crowd and police officer ask the bus/taxi driver to choose the other way.

Wilson asked for the reason as to why the road was blocked, and the answer is there's a big accident. He offers his help, letting them know that he's a doctor and could possibly help to call for ambulance from PPTH.

Until that point he got into the point when he's looking at someone he probably recognize. He found the person under a vehicle, trapped by his leg. Wilson looks around to found a broken motorcycle. A motorcycle that he knew. Also, a familiar cane was scattered.

He rushed to the person just to find out that it was House. He calls for his name, getting no responds at all while he breathes weakly and his heartbeat is slowing down. Not only there's scratches on his body (even his jacket got torn), House obviously got bleeding on his head.

He tried to waking him up, while others tried to getting him out of the vehicle. He's bleeding pretty badly, in pain, the weather doesn't help either.

I want to say that the moment they got him out, House heartbeat suddenly stopped (to make it more dramatic). Wilson says things; calling his name, telling him to wake up, telling him that he was here, telling him that he needs house's heart to beat... while trying his best on working on it.

Finally got a pulse back, he calls for another emergency on PPTH's E.R. This time, he calls Cameron to get her prepared. She wasn't prepared on what was happened to whom.

At the road, on their way to PPTH, consciously or not, House mumbles things to Wilson. Wilson's heart beating faster; he knew as much as he want House to stay sound, he needs House to save his energy. But— there's a clear words on something House said. House calles his name and says, "It... It doesn't hurt anymore..." The mumbles stop, but he's still breathing, barely.

Wilson finally got House to the PPTH. Obviously got concussion, head trauma by the state of his head's condition.

To make it worse (and unreal), they had to make him into coma (or House just fell into coma by himself, so it needs tests or something for later) for a few days (or hours if it's possible, I need to research on that, obviously. Weeks is too long, but who am I to say that) because of his head injury.

Wilson stayed on his side for days. Even it should've been unusual for the fellows to witness him on House's side, it's almost questionable to also witnessing him sleep on House's side of the bed, keeping close to him, found him keeping House's hand in his, kissing House nape when he has to get out of the room.

The fellows knows nothing about them, how close they were, but they knew they are close. But, these latest weeks has been hell for the two (and both departments, and the PPTH, go to hell, Tritter)

Wilson... He's trying to stay vocal to House, telling him things as if House is there to heard him. To the point he was so desperate. He confesses his feeling to House; telling House to come back to him, telling House to wake up for him, telling House that he doesn't know how could he live without him, telling House that he loves him all this time, telling House he was so stupid and all that stuff because he doesn't make the move and all.

Until the time House brought out of coma. Another "hell" came.

House doesn't remember who he is, having no idea of his self. But— He's still there. He's still House. He could responds to the diagnosis. He still remember those hard names of diseases.

The fellows hoping it would just be temporary. But about how long would it took, they don't know exactly (I'm imagining it would be just for days or a few weeks).

Tritter tried to came to him. But Cuddy somehow could use her "connections" to overpower him. He could do nothing anyway, now that House doesn't even remember a thing.

Either way, he feels familiar around Wilson. He's afraid to ask Wilson about things, to ask the fellows about things. But, he feels that he heard things when he was in coma. He's unsure about the things he heard.

Took months (or just another weeks) for House to recover his memories. Wilson and the fellows were helping him through it, and has made more and new memories. And until then, when he's finally getting familiar— recovering his memories of Wilson; House recognizes the voices he heard when he was in coma. He was sure it was Wilson's voice. Wilson was always helping him. He could do his work at any how he could do, but still got most of his time to be with House.

It was one day, the diagnostician fellows came to House' house, having differential diagnosis, evem though House haven't yet officially came back to his position, and Cuddy still letting the fellows to go to House. Even Wilson helped through the DDx, having opinions and recommendations.

When the fellows going back to PPTH, House finally ask a personal question. He called Wilson's name when Wilson was helping him preparing the packaged foods to the table.

House asked if Wilson really intended about what he said. But, House didn't say anything about what was he was talking about or when he did say it. Confusion arises on Wilson, bit he still asks further.

"I mean— what you've said... When I was in coma— I think..." House wasn't sure on what did he remember of the voices said to him. "Ignore it. It's just my hallucinations...”

Wilson take a moment of silence, as if he's going to his memory on what he said to House on his coma. House was never talking about anything happened in his own coma.The question does make him taken aback, but not surprised. He didn't say anything about his confession either since House awake from his coma. Wilson smiles through it, continuing what he was doing. “If it contains the word that I love you, then it's real. I mean it.”

House blue icy eyes is looking for answer on those chocolate browny eyes. He does remember that whatever going on between both of them, House feels familiar and he loves every bit of it; mostly, he feels he loves Wilson too much that he couldn't even say anything about it out loud, or even seriously confessing on the younger.

Wilson is making sure that his confession is now being heard. He told House the things he said when House was in coma; telling House to come back to him, telling House to wake up for him, telling House that he doesn't know how could he live without him, telling House that he loves him all this time, telling House he was so stupid and all that stuff because he doesn't make the move and all.

[hang-the-stars]

Yeah so I said this account would be about my ocs. Yeah apparently I lied. Guess I'll post my LoZ fanart and aus here as well.

Probably not my best coloring. I just got ibis and this was my test and learning about it.

Alright I'm just gonna start throwing some of my LoZ au at a wall and see what sticks, and I'm being to lazy to draw something and add all this, so it's just getting thrown here.

So I'm picking Ocarina of Time because it's one of my favorite Zelda games along with Majora's Mask.

So I definitely know that I'm going to make Zelda trans. Trans King! (Also Sheik will be their name for now, might change it. Might name them Zeik to merge the names. I dunno. If you have name ideas I'm all ears!) Literally, considering he is the last living of the royal so calling him Prince doesn't make much sense anymore, especially since he’s taking back Hyrule and the thrown to rebuild the kingdom and now the Gerudo desert which leads to Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom type Gerudo town. Though the Gerudos and other species of the Hyrule have this massive distrust and tension, considering it was their past king that just basically destroyed Hyrule. You know the usual. But, BUUUUT! Nabooru and Sheik are working together to rebuild and help try and lessen all the distress and all that stuff.

Link is still in the picture, but kinda in the background cause I think he'd be more focused on the hands-on rebuilding, you know. Sheik can deal with the papers and society rebuilding along with just plans, etc. Link and Sheik will not be a couple. I do not ship Link and Zelda ever minus for Skyward Sword and older Wind Waker versions. This is because we know Skyward Sword was the first and they obviously love each other, start Hyrule, and most likely have kids. And Zelda, unlike Link, isn't a reincarnation and is a descendant of all the other Zelda's... So I mean, in my head they're related, so no Zelink! And Wind Waker cause that Link isn't the Hero spirit reborn. Just a stubborn ass kid that Ganon messed up by kidnapped his sister. So that Zelda and Link are fine.

These are my ideas so far. If you made it this far, I'm impressed and thank you for your time. You deserve a heart, ❤️.

(Side note: I didn't think this post would be noticed let alone have 21 interactions. So thank you all! Byeee, have a good day!)

[powdermelonkeg]

Okay but given that you can make alcohol from just about any plant, a world built around Minecraft could have SUCH a liquor cabinet.

You’ve got your basics, the potato and wheat vodka, gin, whiskey, then rum from sugarcane or beet sugar if you’re feeling a little adventurous.

Then you’ve got the fancier things. Dandelion and melon wine, spike vodka, pumpkin liqueur, applejack. Zhuyeqing jiu and chocolate liquor if you REALLY want to go for the cool stuff.

You’ve got mead and all kinds of moonshine, everything from carrots to kelp to sawdust brandy if you live out in the Badlands. Sunflower and rose spirits, lilac wine, even milk liquor and advocaat if you want to deviate from plants a bit.

But then you’ve got the plants that don’t exist in our sphere.

Chorus liqueur, dripleaf absinthe, glowberry champagne and sweet berry wine, glow lichen beer and crème de spore blossom, golden apple cider, glistering cordial. For the truly danger-seeking, wither rose lanique.

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

[codgod-moved]

^3^

(there’s a bonus drawing under the cut that i don’t like enough to put in its own post but i still think it’s cute lol)

fambily :]

[the-final-sif]

Just to be clear, because I'm seeing some misinfo going around about the oceangate stuff, it's not particular weird or an indication of failure for the controls of the submersible to be an xbox controller/other game controller.

It might sound odd to people who've never done any of this stuff, but legitimately xbox controllers fucking rock for being used to control stuff. It's significantly more accessible and user friendly for a large majority of people, and it absolutely makes sense to use them in certain contexts. It can actually massively improve safety because of the ease of use, and the fact you can have 10 full replacements in a cupboard that can get swapped in if anything goes wrong. It makes the controls really simple for people, and honestly it's a generally a solid design choice.

Oceangate's Titan isn't even the first company to do this, the idea most likely came from the US navy doing the exact same thing in 2017/2018 for submarines because they realized it was way easier for everyone:

Turns out that game controllers are just really easy to access, use, and sometimes keeping things simple is the best idea. Wow. Who'd have guessed the thing made to make things easy to control would make things easy to control.

We currently don't know what happened to the Titan sub, we don't know why things went wrong, if it was a freak accident or if it was bad practices or bad safety standards. Hopefully people get found and then we're able to find out. It may be caused by poor submersible design, but some of y'all are out here acting like you're suddenly submarine engineers because something sounds silly to you. Let's maybe wait until we have actual information on the situation in order to assign blame.

[lucid-daydreaming-art]

this is like the third time ive had to post something like this but you guys need to stop treating unodum like a celebrity or fangirl over him or act like its some sort of gift to be talked to by him or especially treat his friends weirdly because they talk to him regularly. ive gotten word that his friends are being treated as special just because they have connections to him and being asked to like say stuff to him or whatever??? which is legitimately very very gross behavior. cause its not only really uncomfortable for uno but it gets very awkward and uncomfortable for me and his friends. im aware my popularity in the regretevator fandom is largely because im associated with him and in all honesty from the START that concept has made me pretty upset. neither me nor his other friends want to be seen as special just because we’re close to him. its part of why i didnt make much outside of the blog AND why i just abandoned the blog and the fandom altogether. i think a lot of you guys are a younger audience and are still learning internet etiquette and social boundaries, but this needs to be a lesson in how NOT to treat others on the internet, especially content creators. this isnt to say dont attempt to build friendships with people you think are cool and feel like you have things in common with, but you cant go into that with the mindset of “i worship you notice me.” you need to understand that no matter how popular your favorite creator is, theyre literally just a person. thats it. just a person. not a god, not a character, just a person. im really fed up

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ohhhh i am so glad im a gift card hoarder... this mic is so nice and i did not spend a Cent on it...

[ms-hells-bells]

the alien hearing is proof that actually nutjob men are taken 1000x more seriously than any woman ever in the world.