#unfortunately i cannot do anything because i am. sick

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

It's remarkable how much free time you have when you dont go to classes

[icewindandboringhorror]

Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!

[rithmeres]

whenever i have absolutely nothing going on and don’t need to be anywhere or do anything, everyone around me is perfectly healthy but when i have huge things that i absolutely cannot afford to miss then half my family gets sick at once with different diseases

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professor Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

A/N: This one's a doozy, don't know how I feel about most of Logan's dialogue in this one but oh well! Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Awkwardness ensues when you arrive at Logan's class on Friday, finding no one there but him.

Warnings: 18+, mindors DNI!!!!, drinking, reader getting drunk, puking, swearing, light depiction of anxiety disorder, sexual harassment (nothing bad happens to reader, light harassment only)

Word Count: 4,712

Chapter 3

This is the fourth night this week you’ve masturbated to the thought of your professor. Unfortunately, your fingers don’t offer the same release that you’ve been seeking from Logan. Instead of relieving the pressure that spreads through your body, your orgasms leave you dissatisfied and in need of more relief. But you can’t. He’s your professor, and downright terrifying to speak to. He makes every hair on your body stand on end, like your body is in a constant state of flight or fuck. Plus, you’re pretty sure he hates you. He stares at you, makes rude remarks, and barely even pays you any mind. But, goddamnit, sometimes you swear his lips curl into somewhat of a smile when he sees you. And you haven’t seen him smile at much of anything. But you cannot misconstrue tolerance with infatuation. He just might hate you less than everyone else, which could be enough for you to get through the semester without anymore anxiety than you already have.

You turn over in bed with a huff and glare at the clock. 2:14 am. If only you spent as much time studying as you did masturbating, maybe you’d get your masters a year earlier. You almost fear going to sleep. Afraid that another dream will leave you hot and bothered in Logan’s class tomorrow, and you don’t like that he has that effect on you. You repeat a mantra as you doze off, I do not want to fuck Logan Howlett.

…

It’s been a good morning. You woke up, no explicit wet dream, with enough time to manifest a Colombian dark roast and one of the best breakfasts you’ve had in a while; which you enjoyed while watching the sunrise from your roof. For a brief moment, you considered flying to class. The weather was perfect, making you long for a place you could traverse the sky in peace without a worry of who might see you. You often find yourself dreaming of such a life. How freeing would it be to fly around the world, helping people in need, exploring areas unknown? As much as you daydream of this life, you still know deep down that your dream can never become a reality. No, every day you hear of someone else being killed just because they’re a mutant. Or others disappearing off the streets and thrown into secret government labs where they conduct god knows what kinds of tests on them. That’s not a reality you ever want to face. You don’t want to think about how the government might exploit your powers. The thought of them abusing the atomic structures you manifest to create weapons of mass destruction makes you sick. No matter how desperately you wish you could display your strengths for good, you can’t. And that breaks your heart.

Despite the unfortunate stifling of your powers, your morning still ends up going just as well as it started. You’ve timed your commute perfectly; slipping into your favorite parking spot with just enough time to walk to class, Colombian dark roast in hand. You open the door to Logan’s class, quickly stopping dead in your tracks once you see that not a single one of your classmates are here yet. You check the time on your phone, there’s only 3 minutes until class starts.

“I was beginning to think it was something I said,” Logan’s voice calls from the front of the room, his broad frame leaning against the white board., “Did everyone tell ‘ya to skip?”

You chuckle softly, “No, Logan, I think it was actually something you said.” He furrows his brow, you clarify, “Wednesday when you left class you sorta said ‘see ‘ya Monday.’ So I think people just got confused.”

“Huh, and I guess you’re here…” he trails off, wanting you to explain.

“The convenience store. You said you’d see me on Friday, so, I just assumed you misspoke the other day,” you conclude, your fingers fiddling with the lid on your thermos. He just stares at you for a beat, making your anxiety swell in your throat. Is he mad at me? I think he’s mad at me, you think to yourself, “Not that you messed up or anything! It’s definitely everyone else’s fault for not following up with you, or whatever.”

“Right,” he says, giving you an incredulous look. You definitely weirded him out. The way he’s looking at you makes your breath hitch, and not in a good way.

“Anyway,” you continued, setting your coffee on a nearby desk, attempting to drive the topic of conversation elsewhere, “I might as well give you this.”

You approach Logan slowly as you rifle through your shoulder bag in search of your essay. Your fingers anxiously fumble between each folder and binder in your bag, incapable of grasping anything. You halt your approach, digging deeper in your bag to find the folder containing your essay. Jesus Christ where the hell is it. You’ve been searching for hours, has it been hours? Or 15 seconds? You cannot tell because time has halted right here. Blue folder, blue folder, blue folder, you repeat to yourself, hoping your thoughts do something to pop the folder in your face. Finally, after years of searching, you’ve found it. You pull it out of your bag with a breath of relief, stepping forward as you intend to hand it to Logan. A gasp escapes your lips when you slam straight into Logan’s tall frame, stumbling backwards, nearly falling until hands grasp your waist and keep you upright.

“You alright?” Logan asks, his hands remaining fixed on your waist. You look up at him through your long eyelashes, your hands planted flat on his chest for support.  You cannot help the fluttering in your heart at your proximity to him, feeling your arousal swirling inside you at the feel of his strong hands holding you tightly. Logan stares at you from above, breathing heavily through his nose; his sharp, repetitive inhales almost sounding like a dog sniffing the air. You struggle to form a coherent thought, the only thing flooding your senses is the smell of Tobacco and pine emanating from Logan. Only a few seconds have passed, but as far as you know time doesn’t exist anymore. Logan loosens his grip on your sides, smoothing your jacket down with his hands before letting you go. You clear your throat, trying to shake the impure thoughts that are swarming your mind.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you exhale, handing him the folder, “Um, my essay. Here you go.”

“Right, thanks,” he smirks as he takes it from you, “Don’t suppose you want to be the only one hearing my lecture today.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you affirm eagerly, watching Logan’s smile dissipate into a pursed line. He was joking, oh my god. Kill me. “Oh! You were kidding! No, I’d much rather be home right now. Definitely do not want to be here…with you.” Your words grew quiet towards the end, unsure if your recovery was even remotely smooth at all. If you could even call that a recovery.

“Oh, so you don’t want to be here with me?” he questions, his arms crossing over his stiff chest.

“No! No, no, of course I do, you’re lovely, I mean, not—I don’t hate you is what I’m saying. You’re lovely, as far as professors go,” you stutter, a clammy layer of sweat forming on the palms of your hands. He’s silent, his eyes burning a hole into your soul. Surely, he’s mad at you, “I would so love to sit and listen to you lecture, if you want, totally up to you. I’ll be here taking notes and listening if—“

Logan calls your name with a chuckle, interjecting your ramblings and bringing them to a halt.

“I’m just messing with ‘ya, bub,” he assures with a self-satisfied smile, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You can tell he gets a lot of enjoyment out of making you uncomfortable, giving himself personal satisfaction every time you squirm under his gaze.

“Oh,” you mutter dejectedly, your face blushing red from embarrassment, “right, well, you sure got me.” You attempt a laugh to hide your anxiety. Fiddling with the strap of your bag, you try to focus on anything else than the tears of embarrassment that prick the corners of your eyes. You hate this feeling, someone making a fool of you just because of your gentle, people-pleasing demeanor. It makes you feel weak, even though you physically aren’t, but no one knows that. They just see a meek, quiet girl that they can walk all over and take advantage of.

“Shit, are you okay?” Logan asks, a surprising level of concern in his voice. His knees dip slightly, craning his neck to your level to try and meet you face to face. You keep your eyes to the ground, not wanting to embarrass yourself further by crying in front of your professor just because he teased you a little bit. You’re surprised to feel fingers grasp your chin, gasping as Logan lifts it to so you’ll meet his eyes. Tears haven’t fallen down your cheeks yet, but you’re sure you look embarrassing; flushed cheeks, watery eyes, parted lips inhaling air shallowly. Logan looks concerned, which surprises you. It seems out of character for him, considering he only speaks to cuss someone out.

“You look like you need a drink,” Logan says, not a hint of humor in his face, fully meaning this seriously and earnestly. Like it could solve all of your problems.

“I can’t drink I have class,” you whimper, slightly confused.

“Not now, later, here—you got a paper? Pen?” he asks as he drops his hold on your chin, holding his hand out while he waits for you to hand him what he’s asking for.

You nod, shuffling through your bag for a notebook and pen, retrieving it and handing it to him with a sniffle. He starts scribbling something on an empty page.

“9 o’clock,” he hands you the paper, an address is written on it, “go there, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you declined politely.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m asking you,” he corrects, a firm tone in his voice making you nervous to say no. It’s almost as if he isn’t asking, merely telling you what you’re supposed to do, but disguising it as an ask to seem less brute.

“Okay, 9 o’clock,” you conclude, nodding your head in agreement.

…

What the hell are you doing here? This is inappropriate. This breaks multiple codes of conduct. But free booze? Who are you to decline an offer like that. The outside of the establishment is like any other mountain-town, backwoods, rural dive bar. It honestly wasn’t too far from where you live either, maybe you ought to give this place a visit more often. You step out of your car and approach the front door, lit with a neon red “open” sign flickering in and out of consciousness. The door jingles and creaks when you open it, causing a few of the patrons to turn their heads towards you before promptly returning back to their drinks and games of pool. The air smells of stale cigarettes and salt, rock music droning through a busted jukebox in the corner. Straight ahead, you see the bar, lit dimly by more neon signs and faulty overhead bulbs. A familiar figure is already there, Logan’s flannel-covered back is to you, hunched over what you can assume to be a drink he’s been nursing. You approach the bar-seat next to him, pulling it out with a sharp scratch to the ground, causing Logan to turn his head in your direction. Before you can even mutter a greeting, the bartender has already intercepted your attention.

“What can I get you?” he asks, scratching at his scraggly beard, a rag draped over his thin, tattooed shoulder.

“Um, Woodford and coke?” you ask as you get comfortable on your stool. The bartender laughs at your request.

“This ain’t that kind of place, missy,” he quips, you try and look at Logan for support but he’s focused on his beer, “I got Maker’s, Jim Beam, and Jack, what’ll it be?”

“Maker’s, I guess,” you concede, watching as the bartender walks down the bar to make your drink.

“Bourbon girl, eh?” Logan remarks, adjusting in his seat to face you.

“Um, yeah, I don’t like much clear liquor,” you say, trying your best to avoid eye contact, “or, it doesn’t like me at least. Some of my worst nights started with a bottle of vodka.”

Logan laughs, catching you off guard, you laugh lightly with him. The bartender sets your drink in front of you, you thank him with a smile.

“Open or closed?” the bartender asks, but before you can even think of a response, Logan answers for you.

“Put her on mine, Jim,” Logan says.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—“

Logan gives the bartender a stern look, and he walks away, no contest.

“Thank you,” you grin, taking a sip from your glass.

“Don’t mention it,” he waves off, the same warning in his voice as last time. There’s a beat of awkward silence. You’re not sure what to say, or why he even asked you here.

“I um—“ you pause, trying to find the right words, “I appreciate you going out of your way to try and make me feel better about earlier.”

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he corrects, turning back towards the bar, his body now parallel with yours, “this is usually where you can find me this time of day.”

“Oh, well, thanks for inviting me, I guess,” you correct your previous statement. You purse your lips, wanting to explain your behavior earlier. But you’re not sure if that’s appropriate, you feel bad that he had to take pity on you just because you got choked up from him making fun of you. “Look, I at least want to apologize for the way I acted earlier and—“

“Save it,” he interjects with a raise of his hand.

“I’m…sorry I—“ you stutter, trying yet again to apologize for your presence, causing Logan to cut you off with a wave of his hand again.

“You don’t need to keep doing that. Have your drink. Relax. I’m not pissed at you,” Logan reassures, his voice stern. You’re convinced that his voice doesn’t fluctuate from that kind of tone too often. But despite the sternness of his voice, you feel your shoulders relax. You’re holding his gaze but you don’t feel like you’re about to combust. You feel…fine. You feel just fine.

“Huh,” you mutter, a curious tinge to your voice. Relax. Have your drink. You ponder the glass for a moment, considering it. Fuck it. You raise it to your lips and chug, swallowing every burn the Maker’s leaves down your throat without a care. Logan’s brows raise at your sudden gratuitous impulse.

“Okay then,” he remarks with a grin.

A buzz floats around your head, your chest heaves from your uninterrupted drinking.

“Rick!” you call, attempting to get the attention of the bartender.

“Jim,” Logan corrects you quietly, smiling in amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Jim! Can I have another?”

…

You’re four bourbon and coke’s into your evening, and you cannot recall the last time you had this much fun. You beat Logan twice at pool and watched him take fruity, girly shooters for each loss, per your request. Currently, you’re in the middle of another game, a tied score bringing out your competitive edge. Logan’s frame is bent over the pool table, lining up the perfect shot. You chew on the straw in your drink as you unabashedly ogle his ass. Damn, he looks good in those jeans. He makes his shot, the cue ball ricocheting off of the edge and barely skimming the 8 ball he was trying to get in.

“Damn it,” he grunts, turning away from the table, his chest rising and falling in frustration. You giggle in excitement, ready to take your turn.

“Jim! I’d get started on that lemon drop if I were you!” you call, your voice slurring slightly as you’re ready to claim your victory over your professor.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bub,” Logan warns, clearly a bit more annoyed at the fact he’s losing than he’s letting on.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, baby,” you counter, a teasing, almost sultry edge to your voice. Logan holds his eyes on you, watching as you bend over the pool table to make your shot. You close one eye, carefully trying to line up the cue ball in the direction you want to go. The ball is towards the center of the table, but you’re so sure that you can manage on your own, balancing on your tip-toes.

“Need a hand?” Logan asks, trying his best to hide his amusement at the precarious position you’ve put yourself in.

“Shh!” you snap, “I’m concentrating! 8 ball, corner pocket.” You make your shot, but your feet slip out from under you with the momentum you built. You almost crumble to the floor, but Logan’s hands catch you around your ribcage first. He lifts you onto your feet, but in your buzzed state you’re having a hard time maintaining balance.

“Easy there,” Logan drawls, keeping his hands so temptingly close to the side of your breasts. You’re jelly in his hands, letting him take hold of you in whatever way he wants. You could spin around and make out with him right here, which you honestly consider for a moment. But before you can, Logan leans his face close to your ear, his beard tickling your cheek.

“Looks like you scratched,” he whispers, his gravelly voice reverberating around your skull. Any other day, this would make you wet immediately, but the competitive monster inside of you is awoken. You shake your head in disbelief, turning your focus back to the pool table. There’s no sight of the white cue ball anywhere. You suddenly find your balance, scrambling out of Logan’s grasp to search for what pocket the ball got shot into. ‘Lo and behold, it made it into the corner pocket you were aiming for.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, stomping your foot in frustration, gripping the table with white knuckles.

“I told you not to get ahead of yourself,” Logan taunts, one hand planted on the pool table, the other on his hip. You scowl at him, trying to find a clever comeback, but your liquor soaked brain is coming up dry. The sound of your name turns your attention towards the bar.

“I got ‘yer lemon drop right here,” Jim calls, setting the sugar rimmed shooter on the edge of the bar closest to you.

“Get her a shot of Tito’s to wash that down with, will ‘ya, Jim?” Logan chimes, maintaining eye contact with you. Your jaw drops in shock at the deliberateness of his actions. The nerve.

“Are you trying to get me to be more sloppy just so you can beat me again?” you question, your eyes narrowing as you cross towards him. You stand just a few inches in front of him, squaring up to him with a challenging look in your eyes.

“I think you’re doing a good enough job at being sloppy by yourself,” he teases, eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes as you brush past him and towards the bar to retrieve your punishment. Lemon drop in one hand, Tito’s in the other.

“Bottoms up,” you chime, maintaining eye contact with Logan as you lick the sugar off the rim of your glass, taking the shooter down with one swift gulp. You wince slightly, before humming in satisfaction, the sweetness masking the vodka just enough. You exhale in preparation for your next drink, closing your eyes and willing yourself to not think too hard about what you’re going to inevitably do to yourself. A single lemon drop is not enough to make you blackout and puke all over your house, but another shot of vodka on top of that might just put you on that track. Swallowing your hesitance, you bring the glass to your lips and choke it down in one gulp. Frowning at the way it burns your throat, sending tingles down your spine.

“Oh, wow,”  you grunt, your face twisted into a pained expression. “Okay, fuck you, m’gonna win this next one.”

Logan snorts at your drunken confidence, already anticipating what might happen next.

You did not, in fact, win the next one.

Logan cockily slams a shot glass of clear liquid in front of you, causing your jaw to drop in surprise.

“Thisn’t fair,” you pout, leaning against the pool table for support.

“I choked down 2 lemon drops because of you, the least you can do is take this shot of tequila, princess,” Logan counters, offering you a slice of lime and a flimsy packet of salt.

“Bitch, this’s tequila?!” you exclaim, too drunk to even comprehend the fact that he just called you princess.

“Bottoms up,” he says teasingly, pushing the glass towards you, clearly quoting you from when you were more confident earlier. “Unless you’re feeling like chickening out on me.”

“No! I jus’ don’ wan’ get too drunk before our nex’ game,” you slur, almost tripping over yourself. Logan sighs, considering your drunken state for a moment.

“Tell you what,” he starts, “I’ll do half this shot with you if you quit your whinin’, got it?” You nod eagerly, accepting his proposal. With your confirmation, Logan takes the lime in his mouth and bites it in half, giving you part of it. You secretly wish he gave you the half that was in his mouth. He rips the salt packet open, and you watch earnestly as his tongue swipe along the back of his hand before he pores some of the salt on it. You follow suit, wetting the back of your hand with your tongue and allowing Logan to pour a bit of the salt on it. Logan goes first, licking the salt up, swallowing half the shot down, and finishing it off with a bite of the lime. You try and stifle a gag when you look at the glass of clear liquid. You sigh, closing your eyes tight as you lick the salt off the back of your hand, choke down the tequila in one gulp, hoping the squirt of lime juice in your mouth will save you. It does not. Your throat burns and you involuntarily shiver at the contact of the liquor on your tastebuds.

“I’m gonna get these back to Jim,” he gestures to the stack of glasses that’s accumulated over the course of your games, “rack ‘em up for me, princess.” Logan nods to the pool balls, indicating for you to get another game started. You oblige, leaning over the table to retrieve the balls and placing them into the plastic triangle. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Assuming it’s Logan, you smile, craning your neck to get a view of him. You startle when you see a complete stranger pressing up against your rear. A yelp leaves your lips as you scramble up onto the table in an attempt to get away.

“Don’t be like that, baby, I was just saying hi,” the strangers gruff voice beckons to you from where your feet are hanging off the table. You scrunch your face in disgust. He has a long, unkempt beard with yellow teeth peeking out behind it. His hairline is thin and greyed, his figure broad and heavyset. He towers over you, making your stomach churn.

“No thanks,” you say, sternly, sobering up slightly in an act of self preservation. The stranger doesn’t let up, though. Still attempting to pull you towards him by grasping at your ankles. You don’t register anything else around you. Not Logan’s shouts from the other end of the bar, you don’t see him rushing towards the stranger either. Your preservation is the only thing on your mind.

“I said no, asshole!” you shout, reeling your legs back before kicking into his chest with as much force as you can muster, your abnormal strength sending him flying all the way into the back wall 10 feet away. He crashes against the wood paneling, leaving a dent in his wake, groaning and writhing in pain on the ground. Your adrenaline dissipates, allowing the realization of what you just did to really sink in. Someone of your size should not have been able to send someone like him flying in the way you did, and the way that Logan looks at you, indicates just that.

“…You okay?” Logan asks carefully, reaching towards you, helping you down off of the pool table. You tumble off the surface, allowing Logan to fully support your weight. “You, uh, seemed to have it pretty under control there.”

“I don’ skip leg day,” you slur, feeling your mouth suddenly fill with saliva, your natural instincts of self preservation just dissipated, and you now are feeling the full brunt of every sip of alcohol you had tonight. The blood drains from your face and a wave of nausea washes over you, “Logan, I think’m gonna—“

You can’t even finish your sentence before you hurl the upset of your stomach all over the floor in front of you, Logan just barely missing the line of fire.

“Shit,” Logan hisses, trying to support you as best as he can without getting your puke all over him, “Okay, let’s get you out of here before you kick someone else through a wall.”

You’d find that funny if you weren’t painfully nauseous right now. Logan slings your arm around his neck, you’re limp around him, like a rag doll. The next few hours are a blur. You’re delirious, incapable of forming a coherent thought. You might recall Logan asking for an address, or directions. But you don’t remember what you said, or if you even said anything in response through your drunken stupor. Which leads you here, hunched over the toilet in Logan’s bathroom, as he tries to shove croutons in your face in an attempt to soak up the liquor that’s strangling your stomach. You’re half awake, ready to fall over and sleep this off. So you do just that, fall over, that is. You’re snuggled into the shag rug on his bathroom floor, reveling in its softness. Oh, this is perfect. You think to yourself, dozing off already.

“C’mon, you can’t sleep on the floor,” Logan grunts, scooping you up off of the bath mat. An incoherent whine escapes your throat at your loss of comfort. You snuggle into his chest, seeking the same comfort you were just robbed of. Your body lowers onto something soft and plush. You sigh in approval, spreading your arms across the expanse of this luxuriously soft bed. Ready to get comfortable, you groan in indignance at the stuffiness of your jeans. You ungracefully unbutton and prod them down your legs, freeing your body from the stiff discomfort of the pants. You hear a throat clear, and feel the comforter get pulled out from under you and then promptly over you, cocooning you in a soft, pillowy heaven. The soft fabric feels so nice and cool against your bare legs, clad in nothing, save for your panties. You silently thank your sober self for wearing a tank top and no bra today, allowing for optimal sleepwear.

“There’s water for you here,” Logan tells you, gently, gesturing to what you think is the nightstand, but you can’t bear to look at it.

“Don’t puke on my bed,”Logan warns. The light gets turned off and you sigh at the peaceful nature of the space. You inhale, reveling in the scent of Logan that lingers on the bed.

“Hm, bed smells like you,” you hum in satisfaction, finally feeling your sleep begin to overtake you. There’s a beat of silence that hangs in the air.

“Night, princess.”

...

A/N: hehehehehehe😈😈😈😈 I hope y'all had as much fun reading the bar scene as I had writing it. I loved writing reader letting loose a bit and not being so anxious, hopefully she stays that way but you'll have to wait and see. I'm getting oral surgery tomorrow so I'm not sure when the next update will be. click here to view on ao3.

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Sheep Man

Debut: Mega Man 10

Most of the Robot Masters are too "Man" for my tastes. But this one? This one is Sheep! And that makes him so awesome. Sheep Man was created to be a sheep herding robot, which is rather silly, since humans have already created a guy to help with sheep herding. That guy's name is "Dog", and he loves to do it! Sheep Man, however, left this job to work as a circuit board tester, which makes more sense. I don't think any dog breeds have been developed to do that yet.

Sheep Man's job at the circuit board manufacturer was in their static resistance test division, since he noticed static buildup in his wool. And this got me thinking, is there really truth to the Electric Sheep concept? I mean in the sense of static wool, of course. I am well aware that, unfortunately, regular sheep cannot use Zap Attacks. Wool is indeed likely to give up electrons and take on a positive charge, but it is also great at retaining moisture, and thus can in fact prevent static cling from occurring! I guess Sheep Man must be inhabiting some very dry environments!

Considering his stage is a sort of Cyber's World, I guess it is a very dry environment? I don't know. I've never been in a digital world. Let me know if you have, and know how moist they are!

Unfortunately, as a Robot Master, you probably know that Sheep Man is sort of a Bad Guy. But it's just because he is sick, infected with Roboenza, and can be cured! I am happy that this funny sheepborg is typically a nice fellow. In battle, he demonstrates the awesome power of Sheep, by turning into four clouds of wool that float independently and zap the ground! (Shouldn't the metal ground be zapping him, if anything?) He's like a four-pack of wool dryer balls for reducing static in your clothing. When the first three do their zappies, they disappear, and the fourth turns back into Sheep Man. I'm over here trying to apply real-world physics to Sheep Man, and there he goes, generating infinite matter!

At least there is a bit of Physics Phun in that his weakness is the Rebound Striker, a rubber ball weapon. It hurts him extra because it's stealing his electrons! Give those back!

Generally, Robot Masters are "pretty neat at most" to me. You know me! I love creatures, and when robots are funny little guys that don't look like humans! So it is no surprise that I am VERY happy with the final Sheep Man design we got. The sleepy eyes are cute, yes, but I am so glad he was decided to be so much more Sheep than Man. It even looks like the design process was basically to give him more wool until he had no visible torso! Congratulations on your cephalothorax! A very excellent Man!

[factual-fantasy]

27 ASKS! :00 THANK YOU!! :}} 🧈

@amoonlight007

I'm indifferent to it. I know of it and have seen a lot of people play it, buuuut it doesn't really catch my interest much.. :( 💔

If he was starving or dehydrated.. he probably could have :( Not sure what he'd see or hear though..

@neo-metalscottic

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD 💖💖

Although unfortunately I cannot reveal anything without spoiling stuff..

Though I can say that the animatronics- new and old, are not fully aware of Fazbear Entertainments history.. 👀

@badlyblurry

WAAAAATHANKNYOU SO MUCH!!! 😭😭💖😭THIS MADE MY DAY SO MUCH BETTER FR THANK YOU SO MUCH!! YOU'RE TOO KIND!!💖💖💖

I think there is yeah :0

Well of course :0 But considering Seam and Jevil's trauma with Spade King.. if they ever saw a Lancer they likely would have just turned the other way in discomfort-

I feel like either Peso, Dashi or Captain Barnacles. :0

Other than maybe effecting his magic in someway..? I cant think of anything :0

That world looks beautiful! Yet also spooky <XD I don't know anything about Worldless but if its safe, they'll stay a while. :0

I feel like none of the Octonauts get seasick. Considering their species, line of work, and life experience..

But maybe if there's a crazy storm of sorts,, mayyybe.. Tweak.? wouldn't feel the best? But it'd be less sea sick and more like a headache. :(

I don't intend for them to encounter anything like that no.. <:/ But if they did? They would FREAK OUT. You bet the Octopod would be stationed nearby for months as the Octonauts studied the sunken city XD

Oh hugs for sure. Angsty? Wholesome? It doesn't really matter. A hugs a hug and I love drawing them 🤗

XDD I'm glad you like what you see! And I'm technically into Undertale atm! Well, its a bit more focused on Deltarune characters. (Seam and Jevil) But there's a handful of Undertale characters in there as well! :}}

XDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :D And yes indeed! I am the culprit behind the silly jester men and their very large spider/human DJ friend XDDD

I'm not familiar with tarot cards, so I haven't thought about it no.. <:/ Sorry!

@rubydraft

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I DON'T HABE THE WORDF- THIOS IS SO KIND!! THANK YOU!!! STUFFING THIS ASK UNDER MY PILLOW SO I CAN WAKE UP AND READ IT AGAIN EVERY MORNING FRFR 💖💖😭💖

KXKSXCKJ FR THO IT'D BE LIKE THAT XDD

@khoiazo

I think they'd be too disturbed by the burning corpse on the ground to even realize that you were dancing <XD

I think that Fazbear entertainment doesn't add more characters because its a lot more complex than we might think.

Not only do you have to design and build the animatronic and its personality. Which would include probably thousands of dollars in work and trouble shooting to make one that is as advanced as the others..

You also have to set up an attraction for it. You have to set up marketing, plushies, clothes, toys, themed food, etc. You have to hire employees to run the attraction, you also have to train said employees on how to run the new attraction. You have to get handlers for the new animatronic, build another green room on Rockstar row, redo all the maps in the Pizzaplex to accommodate for the new attraction.

This also includes updating the fazwatches/making new fazwatches to hand out. Every single staff bot has to be updated in order to be made aware of the new animatronics presence and how to interact with it.

Like. Soooooo much would go into adding a new animatronic its crazy-

Jevil feels bad for his original counterpart. Because he's still locked up in a cell..

Seam is probably jealous of his original, thinking that he got off easy. He doesn't even have shackles..

Goner kid doesn't envy her original at all. Considering her original is still lost in the void somewhere..

Grillby had a run in with his original.. it did not go well..

Asgore does not envy his original at all. He cant imagine how it would feel for his children to pass, and his wife to leave him out of disgust...

River feels.. a bit indifferent to her original I imagine..

@elegysonnet

I do! Somewhat-

A family member introduced me to the web comic a few years ago. And I kept up with it for a while.. Eventually though it stopped updating. I was bummed. Figuring that something must have happened..

..Only to find out that they were working on a pilot animation the whole time and are as alive as ever! Still haven't sat down and watched the pilot like 9 months later-- 💔

As for my opinion on the comic, the artwork is fantastic. But I don't got two braincells to rub together and don't understand/remember the story so uh.. <:D yeah...

Now thankfully I don't think it would ever come to that-

Even after someone as powerful as an Asgore joined their group, Jevil is still endlessly paranoid and risks nothing when it comes to Seams/the groups safety.

If anyone found out that he could dimension hop? He would immediately assume that he is no longer safe around those people and would flee that AU.

And if someone did take him well.. now you've got a mighty king and a determined human on your tail. Which are not good people to have after you-

Though I suppose all of that aside.. if that did happen? The only one who would remember is Frisk. And she would be greatly disturbed.. Upon a reset, she would tell Jevil very sternly that this AU is not safe. Jevil wouldn't question her for a second and would instantly open up a mirror and they would bounce-

Oh! I'm glad to hear that the "controversy" was nothing serious! :0 Thank you for the info! :}

Jevil probably told the kiddos to be on the look out for a new hat. He could have told them he likes to wear a hat but doesn't like his jester one. They would understand the assignment and would be on the look out :0

Sometime after Peach was rescued the bros were brought over to Daisy's kingdom to meet her. Kind'a just a "meet the legendary heroes that saved my best friends life" situation.

It wasn't love at first sight- but Luigi did notice her. Not just for her beauty, but for her bravery and personality as well. 💚🧡

@beryl-shade

XD Made me imagine a home alone situation. The Glamrocks setting up slap-stick humor type booby traps to deter the bad guys XDD

[erikahenningsen]

heyy idk if youre still taking prompts, but would you do something rejanis based on the leighton/alicia scene of "youre 5' tall" "i'm 5'2"? i just think it fits so well with renee-regina and auli'i-janis and their heights :o tysm i've read all your prompts so far (i might be obsessed)

"Janis, come on."

"No! I can do it."

"You can't."

"I can."

"You can't."

"What makes you so sure?"

Regina pinches the bridge of her nose. "Because you, one singular person, cannot flip a cop car by yourself."

"Well, then, fucking help me," Janis says, randomly placing her hands on the front of the car as if searching for the spot with the best leverage.

"You have enormous but misplaced faith in me," Regina tells her.

They had been having a nice night. A normal night. How they ended up here, Regina can't imagine.

Actually, she can. Janis is an angry, self-righteous drunk, especially when she drinks tequila. They were probably one more shot away from Janis setting something on fire, attempting to overthrow the government, or ending up in jail.

Jail is probably still on the table, though.

"If we work together, we can do it," Janis insists. She wraps her hands around the push bumper and gives it a yank.

"Janis, for fuck's sake," Regina says exasperatedly. "Stop it."

She scans the empty street again, waiting for a cop to jump out of the bushes and arrest Janis for... She doesn't even know what. Attempted drunken revolution?

"What do you think is going to happen even if you did flip it?" Regina asks.

Janis pauses, like she hadn't thought that far. "It would make a sick BeReal."

"You wouldn't have your phone in jail." Regina grabs Janis's arm when she reaches for the car again. "Let's go, tiny terror."

"Fuck off." Janis shakes off Regina's hand. "I'm not tiny."

"You are five feet tall."

"I am five-three," Janis snaps.

"If you were really five-three you'd be able to flip that car," Regina says, because sometimes she really can't help baiting Janis.

"Oh yeah? What's your excuse?" Janis shoots back.

"Not being a complete fucking idiot."

Janis flips her off and gives the bumper another tug. She sighs, seeming to resign herself to her jail-free evening.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," Janis mutters, more to the car than to Regina, and kicks at the front left tire. Her foot bounces off the rubber with a dull thud.

"So true." Regina grasps her arm more firmly. "Let's go."

Begrudgingly, Janis allows herself to be led away from the car. Then she seems to spot something in the distance, and her eyes light up.

Regina gets a distinct feeling of dread in her stomach. "Janis, don't you fucking—"

"Bet I could steal that stop sign!" Janis says, shrugging out of Regina's grasp and taking off down the street.

Briefly, Regina considers just walking in the other direction. Unfortunately, she's the one who will have to inevitably bail Janis out, so with a sigh, she chases after her.

They're not doing tequila shots again.

[theemissuniverse]

Okay, okay, so I read the Shao Kahn fic for the first time earlier (I was avoiding it because I’ve never liked Shao Kahn), and now I’m genuinely questioning things about myself. He’s such a smug bitch and I’m ??? attracted to that?? (part 1 had me choking on my drink when it got to the NSFW part) All in all, extremely well-written, phenomenal characterization, I love how sassy the reader is because I actually see myself in them (I’m sick and tired of the timid, excessively submissive “I’m not like other girls” Y/N, so it’s a nice change of pace) also, the bits with Mileena were cute as hell. It made me think of-

Y/N: Alright, listen up, you motherfuckers. Not you, Mileena. You’re doing great and I’m glad you’re here.

But yeah, thank you for the food. I am now questioning my absolute loathing for Shao Kahn.

“IMPENDING DOOM” SHAO KAHN X FEM!READER PART 3

here’s part 1

here’s part 2

A/N : thank you! I’m glad that I’ve impressed the majority with you with this series! This is something I really like because it’s different

WARNINGS : (MDNI) thigh riding, praising, cumming

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

Questioning your relationship with Shao Kahn took place at an everyday occurrence. It was something that ran through your mind at a constant rate.

He was the cruel tyrant awaiting to conquer all realms. Not when he was with you though. Everything was different.

The way he acted around you, the way he treated you, the way he’d constantly make an effort for you.

It gave you…butterflies?

You had to of been ill. There was no way in the very depths of Outworld that you could ever fall for a man like Shao Kahn. It was uncanny.

You were in the dining hall, seated by yourself. You constantly tried to lift the fork that was sitting on the table. You managed to lift it at a great height until your magic gave up on you and it fell on the table. You sighed.

Someone had pulled up a chair to sit next to you. It was Mileena. “Your telekinetic gift has grown. Perhaps it is my father’s doing?”

You rested your chin on your hand. “Unfortunately, I have to give it to him - I did not expect for me to grasp this so quickly.”

A presence was behind you. “I still cannot understand why the Emperor would choose such a weak woman.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You knew it was Skarlet. “Thanks for the words of wisdom, Skar.” You stuck your thumb out sarcastically as a ‘thumbs up.’ “Always can count you, dude.”

Mileena turned to Skarlet, annoyed. “Don’t you have something better to do, vampire.”

Skarlet was offended by this. “I am no vampire, you failed Kitana clone.”

Mileena slammed her fist on the table and got up from her chair. “I am no clone!”

You got in between them. “Ladies. How bout we take five, yeah?”

The two of them stared down each other before Skarlet walked away. Mileena grumbled under her breath and crossed her arms.

You turned your attention back to Mileena. “Don’t worry about her. Let her be obsessed with her own father…or whatever Shao is to her.”

You sat down in your chair and continued to try and lift the fork into the air. Mileena just stared at you, curiously. “Do you really want to go through with the marriage?”

Pausing, you stared down at the fork. It was a valid question. You just didn’t have a valid answer. “I…don’t know.”

“My father is a lot of things but…he would never actually force you to do anything. If he’s doing all this then that means he knows that deep down, your heart desires it.”

The statement struck you. Because it was at least slightly true. Especially what Shang Tsung had told you. You were tired of being third best. You wanted to be the best.

Shao Kahn could give you that.

Were you starting to become the very villain you feared? All because you adored power?

Mileena walked away from you and you continued to sit there, getting tangled into your thoughts.

Hours had passed by and you were in your room. You were busy reading your book. The door had opened. You didn’t have to bother looking up. “Made anyone cry today?”

Shao Kahn rested his hammer on a chair not far from the door. “No but it’s only 3 in the afternoon.” He said, making you snicker. He took his red cape off and hung it on a nearby wall. “How was your day today?”

“We are not doing the husband and wife, asking each other about our days fiasco.” When you had said it, Shao Kahn uttered a laugh.

“What do you suggest we talk about then?”

“I don’t know. World hunger? Poor people? Anything else.”

Shao Kahn made his way towards the bathroom. He turned the water on for his bath. “Remind me to kill Reiko.”

The statement caught you off guard. You brought your head from your book and looked over to him. “Should I even ask why?”

Shao Kahn walked out of the bathroom and to the dresser where the big mirror was. He started to take off his rings. “He was in my chambers trying on my crown.”

“Damn. Dude might have a death wish.”

“And I will grant him that.”

You thought about it for a moment. You decided to test him. To see if you truly had that much control over Shao as you thought and everyone else did.

You clicked your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Why don’t you ease up on Reiko?”

“Why do you ask or care about that?”

You closed your book and sat up on the bed. Shao Kahn did not turn to face you as he took every ring off his fingers. “I mean, he’s a great soldier. And he only tried on your crown because he admires you so much. It’d be a shame if all that loyalty would go to waste.”

Amazement wasn’t even the word. Shao Kahn was actually pondering on what you were saying. It took him a minute. “You are right. I will give him one more chance.”

You had done it. You actually convinced Shao to do something and actually not kill someone.

Shao walked back into the bathroom to stop the water. He walked back into the room and removed his crown before placing it back on the dresser.

“We will marry tomorrow night.”

Your eyes widen. You stood up from the bed and walked over to him. “Tomorrow? Isn’t that sudden?”

“I told you it would be soon.”

“Okay but like you didn’t say when so by definition, you telling me this is sudden.”

Shao brushed your comment off and started to unbuckle his pants. “You should join me.”

Last time he had asked you, you were annoyed. Bothered. But this time when he asked, you wanted to.

And god did you hate yourself for wanting to.

“Okay…but you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

Shao stopped in his tracks. He looked at you, a little stunned. He did not actually expect you to take on his offer but he was not complaining in the slightest. “You are asking me to do the impossible, my Empress.”

“Tuh.” You shoved past him a little, going to the bathroom. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make it possible.”

Shao Kahn chuckled. He had always enjoyed your threats and you couldn’t begin to understand why.

He turned around so he was facing you. By that time you already had your whole evening gown off. You were unclipping your bra.

He watched as your bra fell to the ground. And then you took off your underwear.

This was the first time Shao had seen you naked and he had to admit, it was beautiful sight to see.

You were extremely gorgeous. Everything about you screamed beauty to him. He couldn’t help but get lost in all that was you.

You noticed his staring. You felt yourself get a little shy and you tapped your foot on the ground. “Stop staring at me like that.”

Shao didn’t break his gaze on you. “Like what?”

“Like you enjoy what you’re seeing.”

Shao Kahn broke out of his trance. He took some steps towards you. Very careful steps. The air was thick. It felt like you could cut the tension with a knife.

He made it to you face to face. As much as he wanted to touch you in all the right places, he’d respect what you had said. For now at least.

He lifted your chin up high so your eyes could meet his. “I do enjoy what I’m seeing.”

You hated it. You hated the way the tyrant made you feel. How could he of all people make you feel this way?

Your hands landed on his exposed chest. They rubbed all over slightly before then reaching to the buckle of his pants. You finished unbuckling his pants and when you did, his pants slid down with ease.

No eye contact was broken. You grabbed onto his underwear and slid them down as well. The two of you being completely naked.

“Shall we?” You asked.

Shao stared at you for some time before walking a little bit past you. He got in the tub on the right side, leaning back.

While his bathroom was huge, his tub felt like it was even bigger. Even with you going into the tub there would be a lot of space between you two.

You got in on the left side and sat down before leaning back. “Why do men like cold ass water when they bathe?” You questioned.

Shao gave you a look. “Cold? This is boiling hot.”

“No it is not. My grandma’s frying pan is hotter than this.”

When you said that, it made Shao Kahn laugh. A genuine laugh. You couldn’t help but bust out laughing yourself.

Shao Kahn wanted to appreciate the silence. He really did but he had a few things on his mind. “Why did you join the tournament? And how are you so close to Liu Kang and Kung Lao? You are no monk.”

You gasped sarcastically. “Really? I’m not a monk? Thanks Inspector Gadget.” Shao rolled his eyes playfully but didn’t say anything. You sighed a little. “I was living with my Grandma until I was seven. Someone raided the home and killed her. I lived on the street which felt like decades. Probably about three years. Then I met this one guy. Some thug was messing with him. The guy was a big guy too. Like a big ass guy.” Shao chuckled at the emphasis you put on it.

You tapped your finger on the side of the tub. “Well the big ass guy wasn’t having it. Not at all. He kicked his ass. And when I mean kicked his ass I mean…he really did a number on him. But the guy…this big ass dude didn’t fight him by the usual. Not a gun. Not no punch to the face or kick to the balls. He was…he was using everything. His hands, his feet, his head, everything.”

“So, I went up to him. I was like ‘that was cool! You gotta teach me that!’ He told me that I wasn’t ready. To come to him another time. He tried to walk away but I wouldn’t let him. I was like ‘please. Just tell me how you did that! I need to know! I don’t want to end up like my grandma!’ He turns to me and he goes ‘you really don’t know?’ Told him no. He told me that it was martial arts. But not just any. It was…it was to actually kill someone.”

“Told him my whole story. My parents dipped out on me, grandma died, and he took me in. His name was Master Bo’ Rai Cho.”

At the reveal, Shao Kahn couldn’t believe it. He gave you a look. “That drunken fool?”

“Yup. That’s where I met Liu Kang and then Kung Lao. That’s why we’re so close. I still don’t know why I was chosen to be in the tournament.”

“Because that fool Raiden saw something great.”

You scoffed. “Raiden. Yeah. He’s something.”

The relationship between you and Raiden had always been rocky. You felt like he favored Liu Kang and Kung Lao all the time.

He never believed in you and you’d guess you couldn’t blame him. It was only just now you were in tune with your telekinesis.

“How did you find out about your gift?”

“I was sixteen. I got angry at something. Can’t remember what. But all I saw was…anger and I threw Bo Rai Cho across the room using my mind. They say you usually gain abilities like that through trauma.”

Shao Kahn watched as you went from enjoying telling the story to complete sadness. It stung him a little that your mood could shift so easily.

He grabbed the bottle of soap and placed it on his hands. Then set the bottle down before then grabbing your right foot and rubbing in the soap on your leg. “Gifts such as that are a blessing and a curse.”

You let out a tired sigh. “More so a curse for me.” You played with the soap bottles that were sitting on the ledge. “Everybody has their own thing. Raiden is the God of Thunder. Liu Kang is the chosen one. Kung Lao is the descendant of a great champion. I’m just… me…”

Shao was actually taking in everything you had said. It was starting to make sense to him. As he knew you craved power, he just hadn’t known why.

“You’re going to be The Empress of Outworld. You beat them all in a landslide.”

You couldn’t help but smile at little. Usually you’d argue with him. That you never wanted to do this. That this was all done by force but for some reason now when he said it, it felt right.

Standing up in the water, Shao watched you. He wasn’t expecting for you to go over to his side. You turned your body around and then sat down in the water before leaning your back against his chest.

Shao Kahn was pleasantly surprised but he wouldn’t make that known. He didn’t want you to get up from him. He grabbed the soap bottle and placed some soap in his hands. Then he set the bottle down and began to rub the soap in your back.

You hummed a little at the feeling of his hands on your body. His hands were rough but he made sure to rub softly in your back.

He washed your back with the water until there was no more soap. His hands were clean of soap.

Shao’s hands started to run along your body. Especially at your breasts. He was waiting for you to object but you didn’t.

You moaned at his touches and sat even further back on him. He played with your nipples and cupped your breasts like they belonged to him.

Something came over you. You couldn’t help it. You turned your head around to kiss Shao but he had stopped you.

He placed a finger on your lips. “I want to save that for tomorrow night.”

You were a little shocked. Shao Kahn had more self control then you did.

You turned your head back and allowed Shao Kahn to continue to massage all over your body.

Like you were made for him.

Later on, everyone had disappeared as tomorrow was a busy day.

You didn’t have anything to do. Shao Kahn just told you to show up to the wedding and look pretty.

Bored out your mind with everyone gone, you decided to do some snooping around the palace.

Nothing changed much. You couldn’t find anything that you didn’t see before.

That was until you found a door.

There was something eerie about the door. You couldn’t describe it. Something just told you to open it.

And you opened it.

When opening the door, you walked in further. There were stairs.

You went down the stairs where you could hear cries for help and screams of agony. It disturbed you.

Making it to the very bottom, you saw people were in prison cells. That or they were chained. You were shocked.

Most of the people were monsters or were in mutated form. Besides one.

You walked closer to the woman. She was a black woman with glowing eyes. Her hair was black, straight, and in a bob. Her outfit was completely yellow.

You had wondered what the woman could’ve possibly done for her to end up down here.

She noticed your presence. She immediately stood up from the ground and hurried to you in an instant. She of course was stopped by the cell. “Please! You have to help me! I’ll do anything! I’m good for it! Tell the Kahn that I’m good for it! My name is Tanya.”

You tilted your head at the woman. You were no fool. There was something about her that didn’t seem so innocent.

You leaned against the wall and motioned with your hand for her to talk. “Well, Tanya you might want to convince me as to why I should let you go. It’s kinda creepy down here and I want to bounce.”

“Shao Kahn slaughtered everyone when he raided Edenia. He had only kidnapped a few of us. Now, I am not sure where the rest of my people are. And I don’t care. I just want out of here.”

Tanya pauses as she takes a good look at you. “You are not from Outworld.”

“How’d you figure that one out?”

“You do not talk as if you are from Outworld. Also, everyone in Outworld knows not to come down here. They are afraid of what Shao Kahn might do to them. You must be from Earthrealm.”

“Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!” You said sarcastically. You stopped leaning on the wall and walked closer to her cell. “My name is (Y/N). And I don’t think he’s gonna do much to me. He’s got a soft spot for me.”

Tanya’s eyes widen at this. “An Earthrealmer? I had not predicted Shao Kahn would fall for one.”

“Story of my life. Still haven’t really convinced me as to why I should put myself in jeopardy to release you.”

“I am loyal! I will serve the Kahn of Outworld. Please. You have to convince him.”

You thought about it for a moment. You were going to be with Shao Kahn whether you liked it or not. You mind as well get something out of it.

“You will not.” You told her. “You will serve me. I am to be the Empress of Outworld tomorrow night.”

Tanya could not believe that. “An Earthrealmer being an Empress? Shao Kahn must be love struck.”

“Trust me, I’m banging my head against the wall about it. Know this though, do not underestimate me for being an Earthrealmer. Do not think you can cross me.”

“I would never, Empress.”

You gave her one final look as if to really see if this was worth it. You then shrugged at it. What was the worse Shao could do to you?

“Stand back.”

Tanya listened to your command and walked away from the bars on the cell. You stared at the bars. You concentrated everything with your mind. You then ended up destroying the bars with your mind.

Tanya looked at you in amazement. “I have never seen an Earthrealmer with so much power.”

“I’m a hat full of tricks.” You grabbed Tanya’s hand and helped her out of the cell. “Come on.”

You brought her upstairs. Then made sure to close the door behind you.

When you turned around, you saw Shao Kahn sitting in the dining area with Shang Tsung, Reiko, Skarlet, and Mileena.

You motioned for Tanya to follow you. Shao turned into your direction and when he had seen you with Tanya, his face twisted with confusion and anger.

You spoke before he would get the chance.

“She already pledged her allegiance to me so don’t go out on a villain monologue on why she needed to stay down there. She’ll prove she’s worthy. And if she doesn’t…simply end her. You can’t always scare your way into people following you. You wanted an Earthrealm Empress. This how we deal with things in Earthrealm.”

Shao stayed silent as he heard your explanation. The others awaited to for his anger to combust. For him to get rowdy with you but he did not. He stayed silent.

When Skarlet had seen this, she immediately stood up from her seat. “Emperor, she made a decision without consulting you! She puts this whole empire at risk for the generosity that she shows!”

“Oh?” You questioned her. “Was it not generosity when Shao Kahn took you off the streets and taught you blood magic?” You turned to Mileena. “Was it not generosity for Shao Kahn making Shang Tsung give you life?” You turned to Reiko. “Was it not generosity that saved your ass from death because he had listened to me instead of himself?” You finally turned to look at Shang Tsung. “Was it not generosity for him to give your old ass life and now you don’t look like a dying raisin anymore.”

You turned back to Shao that looked like he was pondering on your words. “Is this not generosity? Taking me in? Treating me like I am your own? Is that not what this is? Call me weak if you want to but you’re the one that wanted a weak woman.”

Shao Kahn stayed silent. Skarlet had seen he was really siding with you. “Emperor I-“

Shao lifted his hand up to stop her from speaking. “You are far from weak, (Y/N).” He put his hand down. “You are going to be the new Empress. You are free to do or make any decisions as you please.”

The tyrant actually supported you? Now everyone had seen everything.

“Join us for dinner.”

Tanya bent down to whisper in your ear. “I am amazed at how much of a soft spot he has for you.”

You snickered a little. “I told you.”

You and Tanya took your seats. When you were sat down, Shao Kahn spoke to Reiko. “Reiko. Thank (Y/N) as without her you would not be alive.”

Reiko turned his attention towards you. “Thank you, Empress.”

You shrugged some while eating. “It’s whatever.”

Everyone heard plates clatter and turned to see Skarlet aggressively slam her fork down and walk away.

Shao Kahn rolled his eyes at her behavior. “She is always a brat.”

You shook your head and continued eating your food, wondering how much longer Skarlet’s behavior towards you would go on.

It was late at night. You and Shao Kahn were getting ready for bed. He was sitting at the edge of the bed rubbing lotion all over his body.

You were at the dresser, taking off your earrings and necklace.

You wanted to fight the feeling you had toward him. Everything in your being was screaming to not fall for the man but you couldn’t help it.

The way he stuck up for you in front of everyone was not only kind of him but was extremely sexy to you.

You felt the wetness between your thighs form. You bit your lip slightly as you tried to push away those thoughts.

“Thank you. For sticking up for me back there.”

Shao didn’t bother to look up to you. “I trust if that Edenian betrays you, she will be dealt with.”

“Of course.”

“Then I don’t care what you do.”

You finished taking all your jewels off and turned to look at him. He was shirtless and had his boxers on while he lotions his body.

You licked your lips. You tried to fight off all of the thoughts that ran through your head.

But you couldn’t. You were only human.

You walked over to Shao Kahn and stood before him. Shao looked up at you and your eyes meet.

You sit on his lap and kiss all over his neck. Shao Kahn groaned in pleasure. He threw the lotion aside and his hands clung on to your back.

Luckily for you, you had were in your night gown. You rode your nightgown up where your underwear was seen.

You placed your clothed clit onto his thigh and began to go back and forth on him. You moaned out in pleasure.

Shao Kahn licked his lips at the sight and held onto your hips as you rode his thigh. He made sure to help you go back and forth at a steady pace.

You moaned loudly. His thigh was perfect for you to ride. It was big and bold. You didn’t have to do much moving for constant pleasure to hit your clit.

“This is what I like to see.” He told you. His right hand slid on your ass and gave it a grip before smacking it. You moaned. “Keep going until you cum all over my thigh. I want you to make a mess on me.”

You held on tightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you focused moving on him up and down. Shao Kahn bounced his thigh slightly so he could meet with your force.

“Oh god, yes.”

Shao Kahn ripped your entire night gown apart and immediately attached his lips on your right breast. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue colliding with your nipple.

You continued moving on him back and forth, closing your eyes in the process. Shao played with your other breast. You clawed at his back and he only groaned in pleasure as a response.

Shao pulled away from your breasts and watched you ride his thigh. Your head was swinging back in pleasure. He brought your chin down and made you look at him in the eyes. “Look at me. I want to watch you fall apart.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes and there Shao Kahn was looking at you, awaiting for you to cum all over his thigh. “It feels so good.” Shao placed his hands on your hips and moved you faster on his thigh. “Oh god. Oh my god.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Please. Oh my god. I’m so close.” You felt your eyes about to close again but you forced them open knowing he would be mad if you closed them.

The two of you looked in each others eyes as you inched closer to your release. “I’m cumming. Oh Shao please let me cum. Please. Please.”

“That’s right. Cum on me, my Empress. Let it all out.”

You continued to hump on his thigh. He bounced his leg a little to meet you halfway. You clawed on his arm. You were about to throw your head back but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Oh yes. Yes. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Shao Kahn helped you ride your orgasm out as you continued to spit out incoherent sentences. He made you finish completely on his thigh.

You took in a deep breath when you were done. “What did I do to deserve such a gift?” He questioned.

You chuckled slightly. “I just felt like it.” He began to kiss your neck softly and you moaned at his touches. “Stop before I make another bad decision.”

“I like your bad decisions.”

You moaned more when he sucked on your sweet spot but he soon pulled away. He laid you down on the bed. Then he reaches over to turn off the lamp.

The room was dark. He grabbed the blanket and placed it over the two of you. “Tomorrow you will be truly mine.”

Even after all this you still didn’t know if marrying him was the best idea.



[loudmound]

hi. welcome to my mary shepherd-sunderland post.

what will follow is who i think she is as a character, what she means to the narrative of sh2, and why people should think and talk about her more bcs me and the 4 other mary fans are dying out here.

DISCLAIMER BEFORE WE BEGIN: a lot of this post will be enmeshed with interpretation and headcanon that draws from me analyzing the text of sh2. this is My Post about mary. stormy mary post. please understand this.

the foundation of mary's character is an exceptionally strong one, and for someone like me, i enjoy making inferences about her person before the illness, during the illness, and near the end. the personality she has in sh2 is flexible enough to allow what i imagine her to have been like in my mind's eye.

i do not want this post to be read as the Definitive Canonical Interpretation of mary. i am just doing my best to inform my analysis of mary with the text as well as building from that set foundation given to us as the audience.

with that out of the way, please enjoy.

PART ONE: MARY AS A CONCEPT

what exists of mary is filtered through the lens of memory before the cumulative letter in the respective endings we receive it. throughout sh2, her status and state of being is re-contextualized as her husband moves closer and closer to the truth of the matter. she is an individual wrapped in idealistic fantasy that is slowly and surely stripped away the longer the game goes along, and the more we actualize her as the person she once was.

this element of conceptualization and fantasy is a through-line in sh2's narrative. mary is everywhere james looks in his version of the town. she's in the rot and rust on the walls, she's in the monsters he fights and runs from, she's in the places he goes, her face and voice is maria's, and she even has some of her memories and personality traits. it is truly understated how much mary just... IS in sh2, in spite of her not being physically present.

there's also this dichotomy i've been thinking about in the inability for mary and james to exist outside of one another, thematically speaking. for fundamentally being two different people, they are inextricably tied to one another in a really unfortunate and tragic way. james grafts himself to mary's memory before her sickness and slowly begins to resent the woman she's become out of anything but her own volition, and mary grafts herself to james because... she has to.

she's sick, she's dying, she's largely bedridden and in constant pain. she cannot rely on herself anymore; she has to rely on the people around her to take care of her, and when she inevitably goes home to live out whatever time she has left... it's james she has to rely on. and while i think james finds immense comfort and pleasure in living in the past they had while refuting the present, mary is thoroughly imbedded in the present and resents the past by means of something that she can no longer have. neither of them can, but i've always interpreted mary to be a very pragmatic and proactive individual.

she discusses in her letter how pathetic and ugly she feels, how she waits in her cocoon of pain and loneliness that's been grafted onto her unwillingly while she waits for james to visit her, and it's clear to me that she is the kind of individual that puts so much emphasis on being a useful and beautiful woman. that is what gives her worth as a human being within the society in which she lives (late 80s usa in my opinion). canonically, she is a housewife, and while that certainly coheres, i'm of the belief that she was a woman who worked outside the home as well, but also someone who did not do enough unpacking to really get away from gendered roles expected of her.

i really do believe that she feels she failed james spectacularly as a partner, but also as a wife; therein, as a person in his life. both of them dealt with their own baggage regarding gendered expectations, but mary in particular's is incredibly potent and crushing if you actualize her as someone who, in turn, wanted to be the perfect wife to james. kind, patient, nurturing, submissive, etc.

of course, as we all know, the perfect wife/woman/whatever you want it to be, is an unattainable concept, because how can anybody human like mary exist within such ridiculous, reductive parameters?

PART TWO: MARY AS A PERSON

so, in that case, who was mary, then? who was she, if not this idealized vision of a wife long lost?

as i've alluded to before, i envision her as a very pragmatic and proactive person; in the video tape of her, she seems very playful and outgoing, but also contemplative, appreciative, and straightforward. i've always seen her as a very different person from james in regards to how she navigates through life.

she's comparatively much more outward and readily emotional, but seems to retain a level of quiet interiority that meshes very well with james' very inward attitude. a very typical "bubbly wife and stoic husband" sort of situation on the surface, but i've always thought that mary greatly appreciated having james as an emotional anchor of sorts; somebody who can soothe the more keyed-up aspects of her personality, given how quiet and easygoing he is.

given how she mentions how angry she was all the time at the advent of learning of her incumbent death, i view her as somebody who really does not like being out of control of her own life. she has an idea of how she wants things to be and she wants them done the way she has already since chosen. (do not interrupt her routines. she will get very irritated.) she's very particular, and i think she's had to learn how not to just take the reigns from somebody else if she perceives them to be going about something "incorrectly" because this particular flaw has led to some arguments/falling-outs with loved ones in the past.

in that particular vein, holy fuck is this woman a fixer. she needs to fix everything she possibly can. the sink's busted? don't worry, she's had a lifetime of fixing shitty plumbing in her childhood home because nobody else bothered. need a couple more bucks for gas? don't worry, she always keeps a few extra dollars on her because she knows what it's like to be a few short and not have anyone else to turn to that you can trust.

you've been deeply traumatized and scarred by your adverse childhood experiences and it's left you with maladaptive and dysfunctional coping mechanisms? don't worry, she'll be there for you, in sickness and in health.

to me, mary's the kind of person that likes seeing the fruits of her labor, too. she takes great pride in being as self-sufficient at she has been, and does very much enjoy sharing that with others as much as she can. genuinely, i think she's very giving and compassionate, but jesus, when it came to james when he was struggling (before she got sick), it certainly got a bit dire. using your wife for free emotional labor is one thing, but when that wife welcomes it for a while because she has a pervasive desire to fix everything, including you? yeah.

also, of course, mary felt a pertinent obligation to doing such, being The Wife and all, but she's also a human person and got exhausted dealing with the amount of baggage her husband had, and their relationship got pretty rocky because of james' unwillingness to seek professional help (stemming from trauma with the laughable us-healthcare system) and mary's unwillingness to recant over and over again what she has in her toolbox.

which is where silent hill comes in. a belated honeymoon of sorts, mary and james take a trip to take their mind off the doom-inspiring monotony that is domestic life, and it's great!

until it isn't.

PART THREE: TERMINAL ILLNESS

so, the nature of mary's illness has never been clearly stated canonically, but we know that it gave her a persistent cough, rendered her bedbound, made her hair fall out, and made lumps grow all over her skin. i'm of the belief that she had hansen's disease, but cancer is also incredibly plausible too.

hansen's disease is one of those things that can lie dormant for years, and it can sometimes take a decade for symptoms to surface, so i don't think it was really a matter of mary catching anything from silent hill, per se. (i do think toluca lake has just the most godawful brain-eating bacteria in it but that's aside the point.) it's definitely a curable disease, but perhaps the strain mary had was a particularly severe variant. point being, however, is that this thing ruined her inside and out.

in the beginning stages, (year 1 or so) i do think she was pretty touchy, emotionally speaking. she tries to keep up appearances as much as she can and is able to, but it's clear that something has shifted for the worst. she's much more somber in the moments of quiet. her contemplative nature turns to brooding. she smiles, still, but her smiles are undoubtedly laced with a wry, bitter sadness.

she's now toiling with thoughts of dying as a way out, too. it'd be easier if they'd just kill me, she laments at one point. simultaneously at the crux of wanting freedom from one's pain in death but terrified of said death as being eternal, too.

it's something you can't ever undo.

now... i'd say a pretty controversial aspect of mary's character during this period of time is whether or not she was abusive towards james during her illness. cases have been made, it's a fairly ambiguous situation as presented in-game, but i think mary's anger that she expressed was quiet, overall. she tried to keep it quiet, at least, and when she did lash out, it was almost always in part due to her newfound level of self-loathing. when she's yelling at james in that hallway, she's yelling at herself more than she is at him.

she's no longer a person, to herself and to others around her that treat her like a dying animal than the woman that she is; the woman that she used to be. i'd be livid if i were her, too!

she also mentions in her letter that she "struck out at everyone she loved most." i have very strong reason to believe that she loved laura, and that unfortunately, she too was caught in the crossfire of mary's mood swings/outbursts. i also think that the guilt mary expresses when we're listening to the hallway conversation is genuine; i don't think her outburst and subsequent apology was a manipulation tactic to make james feel bad.

i think she's genuinely suffering. she doesn't know what to do with these compounding negative feelings. she has nowhere to put them. james comes in at a bad time and becomes the target. after the damage has been done, she realizes this and crumbles immediately. she's hurt james. she needs to do damage control however she can.

of course, none of this is to say that women can't ever be abusive/abusers and we can have conversations about the nuances of that all day, but... it's disquieting to me to see a consistent reading of a terminally ill female character's torment and anger be read as "abusive" to further exonerate the male character's deed of murdering her. like, i think we should consider that for a bit. i think we can hold that mary's behavior was not the best, but james' wasn't, either.

mary waited for him, but he never comes. he stays away, festering in his own grief, mourning her before she's even passed. i see james' aversion to seeing her in large part as a trauma response due to past abuse while growing up; when she shouts at him like that, it drags all of those ugly feelings and memories up.

it's a relationship i see as something that was mutually declining. it was something that was left to die. much like mary was, in a lot of ways.

mary was terrified that james hated her. that she disgusted him with her appearance, that he pitied her for being ill and effectively useless to him. that was something plaintively out of her control, being in the hospital. james could've ripped the bandage off and braved seeing her. he could've talked to her. he could've rekindled what was deteriorating. but he didn't.

again, mary's proactive nature of yearning for james, wanting to see him, wanting to talk to him and talk about them and what to do when the time comes. she wants to figure this out as best she can.

but james doesn't, and he still never comes.

mary poured everything left in her that she could muster in that letter. she profusely apologized for everything, for things that weren't even her fault to begin with. she told james that she loved him in that letter, because she couldn't say it to him to his face any longer. she didn't know if she would have any time left to do such.

but she does. and however long later, he kills her.

mary isn't a perfect victim, nobody that's a victim in sh2 is supposed to be. but she is still an individual that deserves compassion nonetheless, and i think the game does its due diligence in getting that across.

PART FOUR: MARIA

i think have to at least touch upon maria a bit if you're writing a post about mary. i think that's just the way it is.

maria, as we know, is a manifestation created by silent hill as a means to confront/interrogate/"punish" james by emulating mary but with very... choice character design changes.

she's clad in leopard print and a cropped red blouse. she's a dancer at heaven's night. she has bleach blonde hair with the roots peeking in. her face is all done up. she still extroverted, but far more provocative and alluring. she's a fantasy; something unattainable.

but she could be yours in whatever way you want her to be!

maria is utterly fascinating as an interrogation of james' character, but also as a reflection of mary, too. in born from a wish, she expresses her fear of pain and death, of being alone in town with no one else around, while also toiling with suicidal ideation. (sound familiar?) she seeks out companionship in whatever form it takes, and jumps on it when she does find it in ernest.

how much of mary is maria has always been up for debate and forever will be, but i think a lot of mary lives within her. the obvious, being the memories that she has of laura and the video tape left in the lakeview hotel, her hot and cold behavior with james, but also in the existential misery she feels in born from a wish. that desire to die to escape the pain of feeling alone, but also wanting to be with somebody else more than anything, and how death would undoubtedly take that away.

i also think her dyed hair isn't even hers; mary had that haircut and dye job when she first met james at that house party all those years ago.

i think maria's standing as a sentient individual is true, but in the sense that she is the combination of both mary and james' baggage made sentient. she never truly existed for herself, as her own person. she'll always have a little bit of someone else in her, someone she doesn't even really know, and that's... utterly tragic.

i think she realized this too when she points that gun to her head. but she chose james anyways out of that same desire for companionship. maybe she could be his new mary. maybe she could be better than mary. it's truly all so fuck.

PART FIVE: CONCLUSION

mary is the reason why sh2 happens for james. full stop. you cannot have sh2 without mary. there is a foundation laid for you to examine and explore. she is as infinitely fascinating as james is, if not more so. join me.

this post is sprawling and probably a bit confused at times because i wrote it on a whim, but i HOPE that i was able to get across the larger ideas of why i love mary as a character and who she could've been before her illness and death. i didn't touch upon everything i possibly could (mary and laura's relationship deserves its own post, i think), but this post is already long enough. i'll edit it in the future, undoubtedly.

thank you so much for reading all the way. listen to her final letter and cry with me.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for getting a restraining order against my anti-vax sister and her family?

I know that sounds bad but hear me out.

So I (27 M) and my wife (28 F) recently had our first child together six months ago and my parents and sister have started coming over to see our baby girl.

I didn't let them see the baby when she was born because unfortunately my wife and I were in a bad car accident. (Drunk driver ran us off the road and the car rolled down a small cliffside until it flipped over and crashed) we're both ok but my wife is now wheelchair bound and our daughter had to be delivered and put in an incubator for the rest of pregnancy because my wife was only 26 weeks pregnant at the time.

It was a miracle that our baby even survived.

But because my daughter was born so early she has a lot of health problems, including an incredibly weak immune system.

This is where the Am I The Asshole part comes in.

Obviously because of the horrible circumstances my family, particularly my sister, have been very patient on not being able to see the baby until everything settles down.

Well things have settled enough that we felt comfortable enough letting my parents come over to visit and meet their new granddaughter.

And that would've been fine if my sister (30 F) hadn't come too.

My sister is an anti-vaxxer. A hardcore anti-vaxxer.

Like full on believing in essential oils and healing crystals and literally ANYTHING other than traditional medicine. And considering the fact that she spent the entirety of my wife's pregnancy sending her guides for "vaccine detoxes", what essential oils to use and constantly pressuring her not to get our daughter vaccinated...yeah.

(Luckily my wife is way too smart to actually believe that bullshit and kept leaving my sister on read whenever she would start)

So my sister came over and brought her three children with her. None of her children are vaccinated.

She wanted to let her unvaccinated spawns near my heavily immunocompromised infant daughter.

Two of the three spawns were both sick with colds.

I cannot believe she would be that stupid.

So I yelled at her, telling her to take her children and leave because they sure as hell arent coming NEAR my daughter. She yelled at me saying that she wanted to see her niece and her essential oil covered gremlins would help give my daughter "natural immunity" and other anti vax crap. I argued back that if my daughter catches whatever PREVENTABLE diseases the kids are carrying she could very likely DIE.

And it turned into a whole big fight in the driveway. I ended up punching my brother in law (sister's equally anti-vax husband) in the face when he tried to push past me and let the children into my house. (He also punched me twice after that)

It was an entire mess.

Eventually my parents dragged my sister and her husband away and made them leave with their kids.

Once that whole ordeal ended I gave the entire driveway a deep clean and threw out the clothes I was wearing that day. (Call me paranoid but I do not want ANY risk of my baby girl getting sick and very possibly DYING because of my sister and her family)

My wife and I have my sister and her husband blocked on everything and I'm working on getting a restraining order against those people because there is no way in hell you could convince my sister to just vaccinate her children. So I do not want her, her husband or her children anywhere near my family ever again.

So Am I the asshole? My sister certainly thinks I am (my mother told me. she's been yapping away to her facebook group friends about how unfair and horrible I'm being when she did nothing wrong)

What are these acronyms?

[strawberryamanita]

Y'all I'm sorry but this is making me freak the fuck out

I know this is gonna probably cause people to call me a terrible person, but I'm just gonna risk it anyhow because this is getting really scary.

If you are a USAmerican,

Please vote for Biden this year.

I am 1000% aware that the genocide in Gaza is being perpetuated by Biden's administration. It's not good at all. I don't like the guy either, and like every President the US has ever had, he will burn in Hell, guaranteed.

But if we don't vote, then Trump is gonna win. This sounds rhetorical, but I ask genuinely: do you think Trump is gonna stop the genocide?

Has Trump ever shown that he cares about a single human being besides himself? The level of misanthropy that idiot is on is remarkable. I personally cannot see him slowing the flow of genocide in any direction; if anything, he might redouble the effort.

I think it was Warren who is tryna warn people that if Trump gets elected again, he'll never leave. I think back to a time during his first term where he said there might one day be a "forever President", and that makes me sick to my fucking stomach. That's not a presidency, that's a monarchy or a dictatorship. That would be the de-facto end of having a say in who's in control until he finally fucking dies -- and not even then, because then the mantle will be passed down to one of his children.

I know the US shouldn't exist in the first place. I am 100% aware of that. They say that empires fall after 250 years, and the US is gonna be 248 years old in July. But unfortunately, it exists right now, and it's full of people who will not survive another four years of Trump.

Again -- I will say it as many times as I need to -- I don't like Biden. I don't like him. He's done some beneficial things, but using his executive powers to speed up a genocide tips the scale completely over back towards hating him.

But Biden will step down when his term is done. I know the bar is in the fucking Mariana Trench, but for the love of God I do not wanna be under Trump for even a minute more. I hate Biden, but I hate Trump more, and that is fueling me, personally, to show up to vote.

At the end of the day, the problem is systemic. Every single authority over the US, since even before Washington, has only cared about hurting people of color and churning up the earth to make money. Our taxes could help improve the lives of US civilians, but instead they are funneled into the trillion-dollar War Machine aimed in every direction, including the US itself. The US commonwealth doesn't matter to the US government. We are human livestock who generate revenue; no matter how many changes of hands our money makes for hopes of a better cause inside the US, every last penny will find its way back into the War Machine or under the dirty ass of a billionaire who should be tarred and feathered in oil and their own paper money.

With all that said. There are US citizens who are enthusiastically pro-Biden right now, and siding with them might just keep us from living in Trump Hell all over again. The bigots have gotten too proud around here, and it makes my blood run cold. My mother doesn't show enthusiasm for ANYTHING the way she shows it for her freedom to hate people loudly and proudly. It makes her come ALIVE. And I know I'm not the only one who's been subjected to this kind of horror show for the last 9 years. Every state of mind curated by the US is a cult, and there is no escape outside of moving away.

Please. Vote. For Biden.

[wri0thesley]

Genshin men based on how well theyd treat you when sick

Dottore:5/10 depending on the illness he may actually be good considering he knows alot of what not to do? Assuming he’s liked you this long enough to where you’re still alive he probably wouldn’t do anything to interfere with treatment and might just hand you some antibiotics to take. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be unintentionally scary as shit because you know what he does to his patients.(god forbid you ever need a procedure)

Baizhu:8/10. Because he is a doctor he may hold back from being affectionate or touchy to prevent the spread of disease but he would be able to figure out your illness and treat it well to where you will be comfortable.

Ayato: 5/10 he probably just gets thoma to do it.

Thoma:10/10 absolute mother hen, perfect caretaker.

Jean: 4/10 not because she’d fail to do anything but because it would add to her stress that you’re sick and unable to give her cuddles to ease them :(. Likely all bedside care is from maids and doctors because she can’t risk getting sick. But make no mistake she is absolutely missing your presence very much.

Diluc: 8/10, i give him a 8 because he’d probably worry alot and end up getting sick himself because he refuses to leave your side but assuming you are cold he would very much be a welcomed cuddle buddy. Adelinde likely handles most of the actual like care such as medicines and foods. She will make you the best chicken soup so you get better before diluc gets sick too.

Wriothesley: 3/10 unfortunately you’re probably immediately put into the sick ward that prisons have in order to stop any spread :( but Sigewinnie will take very good care you and he will do his best to visit when he can. Granted he can’t get close in order to prevent the spread. He probably brings you gifts and leaves close by like offerings.

Neuvillette; 6/10 mostly because he is very sad by it. You notice it rains more when he’s at work because although he’s made arrangements to ensure you are cared for by some dutiful melusines who bring you soups and medicines, he cannot stop worrying or missing you greatly.

Pantalone: 7/10 again all care is likely done by maids and hounding dottore for good medicines but he will visit you to make sure you are alright. He doesn’t let it show but he is in-fact missing you greatly. But only the best of doctors will be allowed near you and only the best of soups shall be given.

loving jean being an honorary genshin man but i also think you are SO right. i think tighnari would be a good caretaker when you're ill, too; he wouldn't let you laze about bemoaning your fate and your impending doom (as i do when i am ill), he'd find things to occupy you with but he'd also make you teas and herbal remedies and such.

gorou i think is possibly a surprisingly good 'take care of you when you're ill' guy too! although he DOES get too worried and sticks by your side like glue.

[mishhty]

You said that you cared, you said that you would always be with me. But it was all a lie. I never asked you to promise me anything, why did you use me like this?

You promised you would never leave me alone. But you lied. The only truth is that you cared for everyone but me, when I was the one who supported you the most. Why?

Don't you think a girl of 18 is too young to be played with?

I still miss you so fucking much. I cannot....idk, I just miss you everyday, everywhere. Even though you have asked me to forget you I can't. And you are probably having a time of your life, I don't even think you miss me anymore.

Why did you do this to me? Why?

I told you why but it looks like I didn’t say something you wanted to hear. Guess what, I won’t say it either. I know I am no better than the people who did me wrong, as a matter of fact I have become one of them. This may come off as vain but am I to blame when it was you who had been so vulnerable in the first place? You believed in anything and everything I would say which as I said fascinated me, nobody placed so much trust and confidence in me as you did, i felt so valued. You didn’t mock me for being myself. It was all just… too good to be true. And then suddenly one night when I was asleep I was awoken by deep anxious thoughts and voices in my head telling me to end it all and just leave everyone and everything I ever knew and loved behind, so I did what was best for me and probably for you too. See, I know I didn’t do a huge favour on you by telling the truth but atleast I didn’t lead you on, I didn’t keep you on the edge, I didn’t ghost you. I told you as it was and went on about my life, I finished it off with full clarity.

I will be 18 too soon and clearly age has nothing to do with any of this if you’re thinking you can fish out any empathy by intimidating me by showing yourself as someone who’s ‘too-young-and-innocent-to-know-any-better’ then it’s all useless because well then that’s true for me too, do you think I know what’s right and wrong ? Do you think I deserved all that I went through? I was once just the way you are right now, and it has taken me a lot of understanding and heartlessness to become this way. plus I feel the younger you are, the more it is easier to be fooled with big words and promises only for all of it to come crashing down at the stake of your sanity in the end. So i felt this is more of a reason to go on the search for myself, I didn’t want to be taken advantage of just because i wasn’t aware of the world and its ways yet.

I have a really hard time taking care of myself what makes you think I care about anyone else? I used to but I gave it all up long after I met you. You are the closest I have ever come to feeling love and care for, and I mean it with all my living. And ‘having the time of my life’ ? Seriously? Oh Please! If you were to see my state you would be thankful I left you. All I feel is excruciating pain and immense suffering but somehow I try to distract myself by doing a lot of work, manual labour mostly. I have seen the hardships one has to go through in life in order to sustain themselves and all of this has taught me a lesson I can never forget. I have unfortunately even come to the realisation that I cannot give you the life you deserve and that’s what hurts me the most, more than anything ever. Whenever I over exert myself it’s only because of you, it’s the thoughts of your existence that make me immune to any sickness or disease or exhaustion in this world and it takes me an eternity to accept the fact that you’re not mine anymore. I can’t live like this forever and that is just enough reason for me to want to live like this forever. All this pain numbs my brain, I have never felt any better and it’s only for the best…

[roguelov]

reader: can't you just kidnap me from work

morpheus really fucking smug: you were the one insistent on wanting to work for yourself and carve out a life before thinking of moving to the dreaming

reader: stupid sexy dream lord respecting my wants and needs

I LOVE THIS!!! God his smug ass while being respectful and you just can’t deal

“How about just this once?” You begged silently. You were having this odd conversation in your head with your immortal lover while still at work. And you were aching to leave, despite the hours you were still trapped here.

Dream hummed, echoing throughout your mind. “No, because it may never be just once if I do.”

You groaned, slumping onto the counter.

“I am merely doing as you’ve asked me. You wanted to maintain your life in the Waking, which entails maintaining your job.”

You grumbled. “Well, how about this once you don’t listen to me?”

“And disrespect your wishes?” He smugly replied. “My dear, if I whisked you away then you will be reprimanded at your profession, and you will be crossed with me later.”

“I won’t,” you whined. You were ready to bang your head into the wall. You hated he was right. He respected you too much to go against your wants and needs. Even if all you wanted now was him and to leave, but unfortunately it was the irresponsible thing to do.

“Perhaps a compromise,” he suggested, sensing your disappointment.

“Meaning?” You huffed.

Dream suppressed his amusement. “I will prepare you dinner when you return, and tonight I am completely yours. We can do whatever you please.”

You paused, letting his words sink in. “… whatever I want?”

He chuckled, lightly. “Yes, whatever you want. Anything and all you desire will be yours.”

Why was he so nice? God, he truly did love and care for you.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But, I’m calling in sick tomorrow. I cannot stand to be here another day and … and I want a whole day with you.”

“Of course, whatever you wish.” Dream gently hummed.

Anything for his precious mortal love.

[neopuppy]

i follow both your nct and enha blogs, so i saw your reply to an ask on your enha blog which also mentioned renjun and it felt wrong messaging you abt him there so i will just message you abt him here haha. hope you don’t mind!!!

have you seen renjun’s message on bbl where he exposed a sasaeng’s twt account? that was bravery right there. i hope that’ll serve as an example to idols and warning to crazy fans

I was going THROUGH it last night bc of this jcjejcjdjd I genuinely dont know if I’d be as concerned if it was anyone other than Renjun only given the circumstances(SM ent. and their long history of torturing idols- plus what was also happening with cbx/exo yesterday)

going to say this as someone who is on my 3rd SM group that I’m watching fall apart in real time once again, this is likely Dreams last run(the irony) as a properly promoted group. the only reason they even still get so much is because they are huge in Asia and have always been(PROBABLY BC SM HAS NEVER ONCE TRIED TO BREAK THEM INTO THE WESTERN MARKET THE WAY THEY DID WITH 127 BUT THATS BC 127 WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR US FANS- we know how that went). its so hard to watch your favs literally cry for help and you cant do anything when its their own company working against them.

sasaengs are kept alive by INTERNAL staff that have access to information such as private schedule locations, hotels, flights, etc. why else would the SAME people always conveniently ‘show up’ to unannounced events that were never for ‘fans’ to begin with?

Renjun is one of the handful of actual talented idols we have in the age of 2024 where all kpop idols need to do is buy an entirely new face to debut and be deemed “it boy/girl”, makes me sick to my stomach that he cant do his job peacefully bc of people who relentlessly stalk him, purposely sit by him on planes, call his phone day and night.

I’m fr just a normal person, not famous just living my life and my anxiety is BAD. way worse when I was younger and would have physical panic attacks to the point of throwing up. I got help(therapy, meds, etc) fortunately and learned how to calm my anxiety but I always think abt how idols have to deal with this especially when I’m at the airport. like INTL travel is so fucking stressful and taxing on the body, I cannot imagine camera shooting at me the second I step off a 16 hr flight where weird ass ssngs followed me to the bathroom and took pictures of me SLEEPING the entire time! only to run after me in mobs after going through customs.

like idfk why anyone would defend this animalistic behavior. if an idol feels desperate enough to share their mental health issues with us as fans- coming from a place and industry where this is very stigmatized- WE NEED TO LISTEN, AS FANS WHO RESPECT AND TRUST HIM. I wish I could do something, but I cant, and I would beat up every ssng to exists if it held no repercussion bc famous or not these are HUMAN BEINGS, and they dont deserve this.

I really worry given the kpop track record of idols choosing their exit instead of finding help. I am so proud of Renjun for putting himself first and taking this time off to heal himself. like there is just so many things and I am worried abt all of Dream, they debuted so young and have some of the worst ssngs out of all of kpop with a company who wont lift a finger to protect them. in this case they truly only have us(the actual fans)and Renjun going public with this proves that.

I hope anyone who has invaded their privacy feels ashamed, and this goes for ‘fans’ that follow them around the world/are constantly in fan calls/fan signs etc- you are weird. period. nothing normal about that one-sided parasocial relationship that you brag abt online, and instead of spending $1000’s upon $1000’s on bothering an idol who will never fuck you, maybe consider investing in a much needed grippy sock vacation.

I think these people are beyond help, and unfortunately they have the funds or limitless credit to endorse their madness. I need more idols to see this and start calling out these weirdos. NO ONE SHOULD ALLOW THIS BEHAVIOR TO BE NORMALIZED, end of story.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Mr. Chicken

Debut: Rhythm Heaven Megamix

The year is unknown. The world as we know it is unrecognizable. Ocean now covers nearly all of the planet's surface, and the remaining landmasses jut sharply upward, connected only by brittle stone bridges, if anything. And yet, despite all this...

This chicken bought himself an electric car, and he's ready to take it for a ride!

Mr. Chicken is the star of Charging Chicken, which is a game of chicken! You know, like, trying to get as close as possible to something without going over? I don't actually know why that's called chicken. Hold on, I have to look something up.

Ah! It is called that because the original game of chicken involved two drivers driving right toward each other, where one or both must swerve away, or risk crashing. If only one swerves, that driver is the Chicken, in the "coward" sense of the word. I would not call avoiding a car crash cowardly, but I cannot speak for people who would intentionally drive toward each other in cars! This does not help the reputation of the humble chicken.

Thankfully, Mr. Chicken is not driving into head-on traffic. Unfortunately, he is driving toward a landmass only a few feet wide, with a drop straight down into the ocean on the other side. Why is he doing this? Is he stupid? Yeah, I think so.

I don't know if Mr. Chicken is a terrible driver, his car is terribly designed, or both! The moment it finishes charging, it immediately zooms straight at full speed, so either it drives recklessly on its own until it runs out of fuel, or this chicken has the gas pedal slammed down to the floor at ALL times. I would not put it past him.

All this is bad enough, and that's without even mentioning that chickens barely have any depth perception! That's why they (and other prey birds) bob their heads while they walk- the things that they see will appear to move at different speeds depending on how far from the eyes they are! Delightfully, Mr. Chicken DOES indeed bob his head rapidly while driving, so at least he's trying, I guess. But if there is anything you take from this post, I hope it is that a chicken would not be good at driving a car.

Nevertheless, THIS chicken has his driver's license, somehow. And we get to hear his own thoughts about it!

"I've been driving for almost three years now. I get pulled over all the time, and I keep expecting a police officer to comment on my license picture--I look so good!"

I am happy he is proud of his photo. I'm sure it looks great, I always love looking at a photo of a chicken. I even included one in this post! They are so fun to look at. But getting pulled over all the time? I am disappointed in him! I don't feel comfortable with such a reckless driver on the road! If only he would change his ways, but that is surely too much to expect...

"When my safe driving record got me the gold driver's license, I asked if I could keep my same picture. It's such a cute picture of me!"

Wow! He changed his ways, despite me not having faith in him! It turns out even a digital chicken has the capacity to change. I am proud of him! This is now a chicken who all drivers should aspire to be like, in terms of both safety and self-love!

The non-Japanese versions of the game feature this, quite frankly, sick mural of Mr. Chicken and his car at the end of Machine Remix! I don't think this is his own garage, since there is a whole Car Guy character that this stage is hosted by, so maybe he's a beloved customer, and became a sort of mascot. He probably crashes enough cars to keep a repair shop in business!

There is even more to Mr. Chicken but I don't feel like writing anymore! Check out this official comic if you want to see some rooster heterosexuality.