#*insert vague complaining here*

[ladymdc]

.

[emeritusemeritus]

I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour. 

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head.  His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink.  Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Now hear me out... What if, and stick with me here, what if we suck off both of Sebastian's dicks and finger that spot you mentioned in the last post?

(Post mentioned: https://www.tumblr.com/domreader-headcannon-scenarios/762907195459452928/fish-pussy-fish-pussy-fish-pussy-i-need-to-eat-him)

I really love this!! (I’m leaving the ‘spot’ vague unless asked lol I’m justvweird.)

Sebastian

-

Cw: oral and fingering, two cocks

Sebastian rested against the cloth and fabric on the ground ment to be his ‘bed’. Though his cocks remained inside him, the slit was already a little loose from your fingers gently rubbing him. You gently pressed down and inserted a few fingers into him, with a light upwards press, you felt one of his cocks.

“You know…it would be easier to just…’flash’ me or maybe talk a little spicy to me to get them out?” He complained, though you felt the cock lightly throb and harden. “There’s no way this is convenient for you.”

You chuckled and gently pressed against his cock until you felt them both and then with a gentle but firm grip, you pull them out. Sebastian gasped, instinctively grabbing your wrist. “Don’t grab my wrist it’ll slow this down.”

Sebastian hissed, slowly releasing your wrist. “Don’t just pull them out! It’s uncomfortable, if you’re going through be rough I’ll coax them out-“ He groan as you lightly squeeze his cocks, his face turning darker blue at the ‘squelch ’ his cocks make upon being pulled out.

“Well you’re hard and they’re out, did that hurt?” You tease, earning a little whine. He shakes his head hesitently with a whimper. “Then let’s continue now that there’s space…”

Sebastian looked confused over you comment on ‘space’ only for you to shove three fingers into his slit, making him whimper. You duck down, taking his cocks into your mouth and begin sucking them slowly to ease yourself into taking his writhing cocks.

“Gaah! A-a warning would be appreciated!” Sebastian cried out, bucking his hips, trying to force his cocks futher into your mouth. He mewls softly, cocks jerking at the contact. You angle your fingers to curl towards you as you deepthroated his cocks.

Sebastian’s tail smacked harshly against the ground, loud whines escaped him as you taste his pre drooling from his cocks. As your fingers pressed into his sensitive walls, hitting the most delicate patch of flesh in him with no mercy while you suck his cocks earnestly.

Sebastian cries out and his tail desperately wraps around your waste for leverage. He squeezes your waist while pressing your head down, trembling as you keep sucking on his cocks, he doesn’t let you up until you drag your nails along his sweet spot, dragging him back to reality.

Sebastian whimper hoarsely but releases your head, trembling, he can’t look you in the eye. “D-don’t you dare try to stop…I’m going to…” He huffs, collapsing against the ‘bed’, his tail loosening as you resume your efforts.

He swaps between thrusting into your mouth and grinding against your fingers, until while you give a harsh suck of his cocks, you simultaneously relentlessly rub his sweet spot. Sebastian hisses, his tail tightly gripping your leg as you keep going.

He growls and whines, sounding more like an animal than he did a moment ago, with a quick burst of energy his tail grabs your waist tightly and he flips the position. He growl, bucking against you with a newfound desperation for release.

He whines as his cocks swell and to his surprise, you take advantage of the position…

You let your free hand reach behind him, pressing down on his hips right as you hook your fingers inside him and jab his sweet spot while sucking his cocks as hard as you could.

Sebastian’s growl devolves to a weak whine as he hits his peak, collapsing above you as his cocks release torrents of cum, his insides squeeze your fingers, forcing more pressure against him, earning weak whimpers as he lay limp above you. With a triumphant grin, you roll him off you, pulling his cocks out of your mouth, you pant, catching your breath.

“I wasn’t expecting you to go all out.” You tease, earning a low whine of protest.

-

[wendynerdwrites]

A Measured Response: A Measured Response

Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.

Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.

James,

Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:

1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.

2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.

I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.

I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!

Here's what I'm not hearing about:

1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.

2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.

3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.

4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:

a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.

b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.

c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.

I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.

That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.

5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.

6) The worth of the people you stole from.

7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.

8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.

9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.

10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.

11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.

"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."

Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.

So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?

The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.

You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.

"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.

You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."

Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.

You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.

You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.

You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.

These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.

You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.

Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.

Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.

But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)

Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.

I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.

So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."

Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.

I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.

Just log off, Bro.

[sirenmoth]

Unrequited

Any COD Man insert x GN!reader

CW: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, mentions of cheating, emotionally unavailable relantionships, military men like to move fast, and yes that is a red flag

It was hard, you knew it would be when you first accepted to date him after only seeing each other for a few weeks, you agreed to let yourself be his. You agreed to long months, sometimes a whole year or more, alone, to the nights tossing and turning, sleepless, in a bed that felt too big. To the tossing and turning from him, sleepless, when the horrors of the battlefield followed him home, of war and what he witnessed out there, tormenting his every unconscious thought. Getting used to the calm and peacful life, a domestic life, away from the bloodshed and death, the pain and the stress, was difficult and you never clamied to understand his stuggles, his pain.

You were complacent, understandably so, hoping to be his rock for when he retured, hoping he could relay on you the same way you relay on him. You knew what he did for work, what he begrudgingly told you at least, he told you of the enemies he's made who would any and everything in their power to hurt him, even if it meant using you to get it. So you stayed quite, never asked for anything extreme, never complained about him missing a date or judged when he forgot your birthday. He never talked to you about how he was feeling, his life, what little he mentioned of his job was vague and short, asking how a misson went got you even vaguer and shorter answers, so you never pushed.

You tried, oh how you tried, for so long you tried to save this inevitably sinking ship, but as the weeks turned to months, months turned to years. You couldn't take it, not anymore, you felt used, unloved, unappreciated.

Were you only here to keep his bed warm when he got home?

Did he have someone else for that? Military men are known for being cheaters, visiting bars and brothels, local clubs and barracks bunnies while having loved ones at home begging for a nice date out or just to spend some time with them. You've read the stories and heard the tales, a lonely lover at home while their other half gives everything up for a few moments of pleasure while away in a differnet country halfway around the world, how it tears families apart.

You didn't want to be another victim in the sea of statistics.

Was he cheating? You never saw him as the type. Yes, you had to beg sometimes to spend time with him or ask him several times to take you out on a nice date, but he never seemed the cheating type. That was until you began to notice the small things, his late night arrivals home from the bars, the scent of cheap body mist, the constant outings with co-workers and friends he would use as excuses for missing the plans you made for each other.

You met them once, his friends, they didn't pay you much mind, a small hello before ignoring you, so you sat at the far end of the booth of some random pub, watching as your man was practically eye-fucking some random bar patron.

You brought up the idea of having a child once, or a pet, something to fill the empty silence, make things feel less lonely, he got mad at you for it, shouting that you were being desperate, needy, deemanding after everything he does for you. You argued back that he hasn't done a single, damn, thing for you, that he's never here, he missed your friends wedding, your new job promotion, your mothers funeral, he's missed so much it was like living with a stranger.

But bringing a child into this life wouldn't fix anything, fix yours or his mistakes, you didn't want that for them. Bringing a child into a broken home wouldn't fix it, a child staying up late at night, wide awake, questioning 'when's daddy coming home?', questioning if he's even coming home alive. You didn't want them to suffer for the chocies you made, for the man for chose to love.

The stress of this life, the constant moving and them having to be the new kid every few years, never living in a permentant home, never having permentant friends, getting asked if their daddy was coming to a school event or their birthday, knowing full well he wasn't, getting asked if they even have a dad, would forver traumaties them, forever scar them.

That was it for you, the last straw.

Tired, that's all you could feel was tired. Tired of asking to be taken out on a small, simple date, one where he was actually attending, asking if he thought you looked nice, asking to be loved.

Tired of him asking you things he should know, when are you getting that job promotion, when's your friend getting married, when's your mother visiting.

You waited until he was sent away to leave, you packed up your things, was there anything of his even here? He spent so much time away or at the barracks on base or in his office, you had gotten used to the cold, empty feeling the house brought, the house you hoped the two of you would call home. Room by room, you packed, taking everything that was yours, leaving nothing behind to remember you by.

Would he even notice you're gone?

You left a few detailed letters, placing it in a location you know where he would see it. The letters detailed everything, your thoughts, your feelings, your concerns and worries, how and were everything went wrong, on your part and on his, how you left like second place to his job and his potentially other partners and lovers. How you tried so hard to make it work, how your tried to be patient hoping he would come around and open up, how you cried on those nights alone in the bed you both once shared, alone in a bed that didn't feel right.

Explained how he didn't do right by you, nor you to him. Explained that you hoped over time things would settle and that you wouldn't have to ask for the bare minimum, but it never happened, nothing changed. How you tried to fix the unfixable while he never bothered to try at all, there was no happy ending or bright future for both of you, you have come to accept that now. It was never meant to be between you two, but you hoped he found someone, someone who could give he him want you couldn't, love him like you could never. Someone who gave him everything and was the complete opposite of you.

You'd be long gone by the time he arrived hom from his deployment, with the extra time he'd spend out drinking or on base, you'd be in a new home with a new job position, a brand new life you built for youself, a brand new life to heal.

Maybe it was the wrong time, maybe you both should've met sooner, or later, maybe this all could've been avoided.

Maybe it was never meant to be.

You don't know if he tried calling or texting, tried reaching out to fix thing after it was already long broken beyond repair, you made sure he couldn't find you as best you could, wanting to leave that chapter of you life, that chapter of sorrow, behind. You wanted to move on.

Has he moved on?

Has he already forgotten you? Did he even care or did he just go bury himself deep inside someone else?

You met someone a few months after leaving, a kind man who took you out on dates without you needing to ask, told you look nice, beautiful, gorgeous. A kind man who went to you friend's wedding, your work parties, accompanied you when you visited your mothers grave. He is everything you could ask for and more.

A warm, bright smile spread across your face, so big it hurt. When was the last time you smiled like this? He took you out on a date, a bar to celebrate your new promotion to a higher branch, he told you how proud he is of you. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company like nothing else in the world mattered.

Both of you blissfully unaware of a certain militray man looking you across the bar with his friends, a look in his eyes like his world was burning down around him, as he watched the two of you, like he lost the most valuable and precious thing in the world.

But that was lost when you left him, leaving nothing those letters behind. It was lost when he didn't fight for you, when he didn't treat you right.

It was lost when you said enough was enough. He never tried, he put his work first, put his own selfish desires and needs before yours. He was never there, he was always with on a job or with someone else, he was never there to love you, to cherish you, he was never there when you needed him but you alwasy made sure you were there when he needed you.

And he lost you because of it.

Now he's watching you from across a bar, his friend drunkly chatting but he's not listening, he's watching you get everything you ever wanted, everything he never gave you gettting given to you by a different man. A better man.

A man who he will never be.

[maraudereestauderelb]

What are the Chances I (Troy Otto)

Some more writing I found somewhere in the depths of my drafts and figured, I might as well put it out there...

Let me know if you like it and if you want to be tagged in future parts!

Masterlist

"I'm so hungry, Y/N!", Leona whined on the passenger seat and added: "And thristy! What did you say? How many days can a human live without water?" 

They had run out of water supplies the day before and currently they were running very low on gas as well. "You still got enough power to complain so you're good." 

They had only started their drive towards the Mexican border four days ago. It had been a week since society had collapsed completely. Back in the area close to Los Angeles they had tried to collect as many supplies as they could and had stuffed all of them into Leona's old Jeep. Besides supplies they had been on the hunt for weapons. Neither of them had any experience with them but so far, they had somehow managed to protect themselves against the undead.  

They were careful. Very careful. The living being more of a potential threat than the dead.  

"Maybe you can check the map again? I think we should be close", Y/N asked her friend and pointed at the glovebox. Back at an abandoned rest stop they had found a map of the area they were heading for. 

When things had turned bad in Los Angeles they quickly had decided that trying to get back to their hometowns across the US was a stupid idea. They had no idea how things were over there, neither did they believe they'd get this far on their own. They actually were quite surprised they had gotten this far in the first place.  

Luckily the younger one of them had a thing for crazy conspiracy theories and just happened to stumble across a commercial of an elderly man advertising some sort of survival buckets and his ranch where they were preparing for the fall of society, when she had been watching one of these rather questionable tv channels in the middle of the night. And also, she was lucky enough to remember at least vaguely remember where said ranch was. And that was exactly where they were heading. 

When Leona was trying to locate them on their map Y/N suddenly saw a truck standing on the side of the street they were driving on. Really, she didn't want to stop right here in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in New Mexico, but a gaze at the fuel gage told her she had to at least try and find out if the Militia truck had some gas left, they could use for themselves.  

"What are you doing?", Leona asked surprised when her friend slowed the car down. "Might get us some gas", she answered.  

"You think this is a good idea? I don't think this truck's going to help you? Either someone left it here because it ran out of gas or I bet the person who drove it is still close." "I know", she sighed: "But I think we'll have to risk it or we'll soon have to walk." 

Y/N slowed down the Jeep and checked if anyone was sitting in the Truck before she got out of the car, carrying a hose and a small revolver, which she stuffed in her back pocket. 

It was silent and nobody seemed to be close. Neither living nor dead. Now all there was left to hope for was that the Truck had some gas.  

She had just inserted the hose all the way in the Truck when she suddenly heard steps behind her on the dry ground and Leona's high-pitched voice from the Jeep by her side: "Watch out!" 

With her heartbeat immediately pumping fast she turned around and pulled out the revolver. The young woman pointed her gun right at the two men, who were both wearing military uniforms. Her hands were shaking. 

"One step closer and I'll shoot!" 

They definitely were armed but instead of raising their rifles at her or trying to subdue her, they both raised their hands. 

"We're not doing anything, okay? Just put that gun down."  

But instead of that Leona now slipped out of the car, carrying a gun as well.  

"What do you want?", Y/N asked and tried her best not to shit her pants. 

"I'm Troy and this is Mike and we simply don't want you to steal all of our gas." 

"Well, but we'll take it anyway." "No, you won't", Troy said again seriously. "And how are you going to prevent that?", Y/N wanted to know and pointed her gun straight at him.  

"You've never used one of these things have you?", Troy laughed amused but although the two girls must have seemed like they had no clue what they were doing, Mike obviously wasn't as relaxed as his friend. "Man, I think we shouldn't test them." 

"We'll...uh we won't take all of it. So you can still get away from here", Leona offered stuttering. 

"I have a better idea", Mike said calmly: "You two take these things down and we'll take you with us." "With you?! Hell no!", Y/N took a step forward which didn't seem to scare Troy at all.  

"Nonono!", Mike said quickly: "Not what you think! I promise! We're living on a ranch. We're building something there. You'd be save. Let us help you." 

It wasn't hard to see that Troy wasn't too keen on that but really caught Y/N's attention. 

"Broke Jaw Ranch?", Leona asked with big eyes and hope in her voice and lowered her gun. "Why are you asking", Troy wanted to know curiously so Y/N answered lowering her gun as well: "Because that's exactly where we're heading." 

Part II

[jymwahuwu]

Today I'm thinking about reader inserts and the history of personal growth, love, desire… (Thinking in the prison of capitalism. When I'm bored, I think about a lot of things, and mutter a little long. Skip it if don't like it)

When I was a kid, I wrote Mary Sue fics and got laughed at. I learned to store those fantasies away and view them as shameful. The past history is not always visible. Then as I grew older, I started watching anime and manga, and followed the trend of watching BL. At that time, I got some loving experiences from Shipping. I cheer for other people's love and feel fulfilled. But vaguely, I thought of myself. What am I feeling? Do I want to be loved? My experience will be through other partners.

So, I searched for self-insert content on the Internet, and there was almost nothing. And I don’t know the term x reader. Occasionally speaking, people would be ashamed of it and laugh at people for wanting to see yourself in fandom, that it was a kind of Mary Sue. An unrealistic fantasy. I started to feel bored and irritable. Why is love about Shipping real, but Reader must be in a position of shame? That's also me, I need to be loved and seen. The illusion of equality, unfair treatment.

Then I started writing, quietly, without any platform to publish on. I wrote it in my docs and felt more satisfied than ever. I have no other readers, so I don’t need to modify my words, I just need to satisfy myself and make myself happy.

Haha, until I discovered tumblr >_< I realized there are so many people loving x reader content here.

(Speaking of which, is this why I love non-con content? Society is used to shaming people for their desires.)

To this day, people still complain that Y/N (reader inserted)’s personality is not like theirs, that they would never do that, and so on. I'm not denying the immersion issues, but what does complaining about "Y/N" sound like? Shame on a virtual "you". Even in dreams, people still cannot imagine that they could do anything else, that they could achieve more, that they could have any profession, that they could have moral imperfections, that they could have desires. What kind of "I" is reflected in fics?

Be more tolerant of yourself, love yourself, be proud of your desires, and be comfortable with them.

Born to love yourself.

[fluffyprettykitty]

Spring Drabble Sleepover!!!

running from may 14th to may 19th

*time indicates when requests will be accepted, asks will be rolling through according to inspiration and time allowed!

Hello and welcome to me not having written anything since January???? Let's rectify this by celebrating a little as summer might have officially started but true summer doesn't start till late June here!

Onto the main thing now!

•❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀••❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀••❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀•

What will you do is mix and match a character or several with one or several of the following categories provided. As usual, you know!

⋆ Polyamorous ships are always encouraged. No platonic or daughter! reader though.

⋆ Darker themes are welcomed at my discretion. Check my requests page for what I'm comfortable with.

⋆ Please only use a character from the ones already provided.

⋆ I will either turn them into blurbs or drabbles depending on my inspiration but you can suggest to me what it should be.

⋆ I will do female reader for smut prompts and gender-neutral for fluff prompts. All will be written vague and over 21.

⋆ You have to be strictly 18+ to participate.

•❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀• •❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀• •❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀•

characters:

Sons of Anarchy: Chibs Telford, Juice Ortiz, Jax Teller

Star Wars: Cassian Andor, Poe Dameron

Marvel: Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Billy Russo, Thor Odinson, Brock Rumlow, Layla El Faouly, Elektra Natchios, Bruce Banner, Marc Spector, Brunnhilde, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes

Triple Frontier: Benny Miller, Will Miller, Santiago Garcia

aus: bakery, book store, celebrity, detective, ghost, restaurant, porn star, tutor, maid, mechanic, mermaid, neighbour, stripper, werewolf, vampire.

kinks: breath play, cockwarming, phone sex, gloves, choking, strip tease, uniform/suit, titty fucking, dirty talk, sex toys, accidental stimulation, shower, sensory deprivation, somnophilia, lingerie, object insertion, lap dance, lactation, spanking, exhibitionism, handcuffs, clothes on, moresomes.

date ideas: day trip, road trip, library, museum, restaurant, camping, beach, drinks/bar, concert, walking, sightseeing, boat ride, dancing, spa, errands, shopping spree, cinema, coffee.

domestic situations: trying new recipes, painting nails, reading, cuddling, clothes shopping, packing for a trip, laundry, repairing things, changing bedsheets, ordering takeout, falling asleep, complaining about family, movie nights, doing dishes.

☆ Just combine as many as you want however you see fit! And of course, when it comes to domestic situations and date ideas you can think of other things or be more specific on one situation! ☆

•❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀• •❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀• •❀.•❤•.¸✿¸.•❤•.❀•

no pressure tagging: @that-sarcastic-writer @sunflowersteves @jen-with-a-pen @eulalielatibule @moonlight-prose @e-dubbc11 @soulores @targaryenvampireslayer

[mxtxfanatic]

Book of the Week: Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage

Author: Qian Shan Cha Ke (千山茶客)

Genre: ancient setting, josei

Rating: M (very mature, dark themes but not too graphic of depictions)

My Synopsis: What happens when a girl gets tired of being nice and decides to go apeshit? You get Shen Miao, our adorable 30+ year-old protagonist recently stuffed back into her 14-year-old self and ready to eat the flesh and drink the blood of her enemies! Using this new lease on life, she’ll methodically and maliciously ruin every antagonist’s life using the tools in her versatile skillset, including: knowledge of the future, a psychological understanding of assholes, weaponized gender stereotypes, and men. And lest we forget our love interest, Xie Jing Xing: the boy/man (cause god forbid the author know how old anyone BUT Shen Miao is…) who thought he had it all figured out until he discovered that Shen Miao is a horny drunk. See just how far they’ll go to bathe in the blood of their enemies while keeping their loved ones safe in this very long but extremely satisfying novel.

My Actual Review: It’s so satisfying to see a previously downtrodden character scheme her way into a happy ending, and Shen Miao fucking deserves it. Some reviews that I’ve seen have claimed that the LI eventually takes over her revenge schemes, but I didn’t see it. They just partner up and she uses his manpower to do what she wants. There are also places where their separate goals intersect, so it just makes more sense for him to do the cleanup. The thing about Shen Miao is that she has no issues with letting others do the work for her, especially if it’s against people she wasn’t invested in putting work against to begin with. It’s the empress in her, I fear. As for the main pair as a couple, I loved their every interaction, and their descent into romance felt natural and gratifying. Greatest thing about this romance is the fact that it truly kicks off because Xie Jing Xing did not know to guard against horny drunk Shen Miao lmao!

The translation is pretty good outside of some clunky grammar, but once you train your eyes to glaze over the the five-millionth time the translator inserts directly into the story to complain about how often the LI is described as hot (unlike every other character, I guess???) as if this book is their early 2000s fanfic, it gets even better! Another thing that may or may not be here nor there is that this author is really weird with age consistency. Like, “MC is forever un-aging while everyone else ages 2 years every few months” weird. Shen Miao is forever 14 until the time skip in which she is forever 16, while Xie Jing Xing goes from “the same age as the students” to “17/18ish” to “vaguely in his 20s” during the same course of time where we literally never see Shen Miao acknowledge a birthday in any year. As for more serious content warnings, this story involves underage relationships (including non-explicit sex, marriage, and pregnancy), rape as a weapon, (assumed) incest between cousins, child abuse, and described but not explicitly shown torture. Though there are some humorous parts, this is not a lighthearted story. Read if you want something dark with an ultimate happy ending.

Translation: complete

[olderthannetfic]

This post https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/741535018017488896/genuine-question-whats-the-point-of-writing made me reflect a bit on my own relationship with writing.

I wrote a bunch of fics in several fandoms over several years, but I haven't felt up to it in months. I've had slumps before, but this time it feels different, a big 'What's even the point?' shrug-like cloud floating over it.

I never wrote ~for myself~; the point has always been to post and share. Writing itself has never been exactly fun, you know? Sure, it allows me to know the actual story that can only precisely unfold as I write it, instead of remaining only vague ideas and scenes floating in my head, but the process… Man, the process is a slog.

What's the best word? How can I make this story more cohesive? Oh no, this is too silly, too revealing, too self-indulgent; oh no, I can't find the right words it's all terrible I hate this; oh no, of course all the flaws jump at me because I've spent so much time chasing them, trying to make the fic better before posting.

I can't post something I feel is too half-arsed, and I can't really be satisfied with whatever I do eventually post. Rereading older fics makes new flaws jump at me, or makes me realize how blatant my own… kinks, I guess, are: the words and themes and tropes I keep using, the way I write this specific character, that specific relationship, etc. It really all seems silly and pointless, and like I'm not bringing anything new or interesting or satisfying to the table - because it is not, to me, satisfying to read. (Insert rant about 'write what you want to read instead of complaining' >> it is NOT the same omg)

It doesn't feel like ~art~; it feels like all the hobbies I've ever tried: well, here's another thing I'll never feel I'm much good at, however hard I try. Which, objectively, is silly, and to be fair I know, deep down, I'm not that bad a writer (I've read my share of truly terrible stuff ;-), but the ratio of struggling and frustration to pleasure (posting at last, and a few people reaching back to say, Hey I liked it! A fleeting connection, compared to the time and effort I put in) is, well, not great… and yet, I feel like it's another thing I'm giving up on while I should keep trying.

It's… frustrating.

--

Welcome to The Gap.

[damagedintellect]

Dazai Osamu x reader

💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit: Chapter 6 💌  

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.  

Notes: Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.   

 This will be the last update for a while because Artfight starts in a few days and it takes place during the whole month of July. The theme is Vampire vs Werewolves which has me laughing my ass off, IT'S LITERALLY BSD THEMED I CAN'T IT'S TOO MUCH!!! I'm planning on siding with Vampire's since *SPOILERS* home boi is under the vampirism.

💌 Word count: 2,457 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Everyone celebrated the fall of the guild that night. You shared a few drinks with Yosano and Kunikida but noticed that Dazai was missing. He must be at the art gallery with Hirotsu. Things were only going to get harder moving forward. This will probably be the only time you could have a drink and relax. You don't even want to think about it because you have a feeling Ranpo is going to threaten you for answers during the cannibalism arc but at the same time he’s seen that your knowledge isn't always indefinite. It's either that or once again Chuuya is an outlier. Before you could refuse it, one drink turned into two and the next thing you knew you were sitting in Yosano's lap as your arms were tangled with hers as you shot back your sixth or seventh bottle. Both of you were cackling about something Ranpo said as Kunikida was bringing you both water. You don't think you drank the water either. You only vaguely remember sharing another drink with Yosano before attempting to get back to the dorms. Kunikida was escorting Yosano while Ranpo begrudgingly helped you up the stairs. He was complaining that his room was directly below yours and he would have to walk twice as far. You told him you could make the ten feet on your own as he cheerfully bid you farewell for the night. The last thing you remember was inserting your key into the lock before you passed out.

Dazai decided to grab a drink at Lupin's after meeting with Hirotsu. There was a lot to think about after the fall of the guild and he knew he needed to take a break before looking into the rats. He had an eerie premonition he'd be crossing "his" path again but for now he needed to de-stress. Feeling the smooth burn down his throat calmed his active mind somewhat but it wouldn't be enough alcohol to get him tipsy. He rarely let himself get that loose so after the drink he casually strode home taking in the quiet walk observing the interesting nightlife.

When he got to the top of the stairs he knew something was off. He felt a presence but who could be out and about at this hour. All he knew is that thankfully it wasn't Chuuya. When he turned the corner he saw (Y/N) on the floor, key in hand just outside his room. Dazai couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips. She must have had drinks with Yosano. The doctor had a knack for drinking everyone under the table. Odd that you were on the floor outside his room but if he had to guess Ranpo got lazy. Dazai knelt down beside you to see if you were awake. The moment he was eye level with you he lightly tapped your shoulder as he spoke.

"Silly little Belladonna, you can't sleep out here. Let's get you to bed okay?"

You slowly stirred from the movement but it was clear you were too far gone. "Dasaiiii!" you slurred as you threw yourself on him nuzzling into his warmth. It had been cold on the floor. You were sad after your key didn't work and you were too exhausted to go to someone else's room. Thinking back you had your phone in your pocket you definitely could have called for help but it slipped your mind until right now. Once you lost your ability to stand you opted to sit down for a bit. That's when you fell asleep so this must be a dream. "Of course I'd dream of Dazai. God mmm pathetic." You scoffed at yourself, not hiding your smile because you didn't realize you were thinking out loud.

The brunette laughed at your outburst but quirked an eyebrow at its context. Past his name you mumbled the rest. "You're pathetic?" He was curious as you shuffled closer to him pulling away enough to look him in the eyes, he didn't move.

"I'm pathetic cause mmm in love with Osamu,” You said it so soft and gentle he thought he misheard you until the panic set in your voice. “Dream-zai you can't tell him! Because-" You stopped talking trying to come up with a reason. Ultimately you didn't know why you shouldn't tell him. Yeah of course rejection was a possibility but the way you see it your love is more unconditional. At this point you would rather Dazai be Dazai than have the feelings be mutual. You wanted him to know someone cared without expecting anything in return and that he can have what he wants without it being taken away. Or at least you think that’s what he wants, wait what were you talking about? Oh right! "I hav to tell hm so don't say anyfing or I’ll kill you myslef!" You pushed your fist to his chest as a threat.

Dazai blinked. You love him? Why? He's tried to threaten you, teased you and has tried to annoy you at every opportunity since you started working beside him at the ADA. It worked well for everyone else to be kept at arm's length but he guessed your little game was the difference. It did mean that you both shared some, moments. Why were you always so difficult and why did he feel warm like he wanted to believe you. His heart was beating erratically and not by his doing, he hated it. "We should get you to bed, you're already speaking nonsense." He helped you off the floor but you clung to him. It was cute but it made ushering you inside his room harder than it needed to be.

The moment you got inside you flopped down on his futon unprompted. The look you gave him at the prospect of him joining you was adorable and it made his heart clench as he frowned, getting you some water. You were much more honest when you were drunk. He almost missed the playful banter to get you to spill your secrets. He still couldn’t put a finger on how your intuition was flawlessly comprehensive or at least from what he’s tested and witnessed. Chuuya refused to give him any details of your meeting. He expected as much but there was a sliver of hope that Chuuya might spare a few details. Instead the redhead didn’t bother which could only mean that you were able to answer his questions otherwise he would have given Dazai an earful about how he was just wasting his time. Which brings him back full circle at how much could you realistically know by looking at people’s palms? It’s been eating at him slightly every day because there was no logic behind it. The fact that you know so much about him and his past yet you so proudly claimed to love him vexed Dazai. Which begged the question,

“Why do you love me?” He handed you the glass as you happily gulped down every last drop. “Dream-zai has to promise not to tell Osamu first.” You held out your pinky for him to take. Everytime you called him by his first name he felt miffed, there was this incessant tingling across his skin that made him feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. He knew you were only using it to distinguish between what you thought was the real and fake Dazai but it was starting to drive him up the wall that you couldn’t tell the difference. Then again he couldn't tell if he liked or hated the way hearing his first name from your lips made him feel. When he extended his pinky he noted how sweaty his palms were. Why was this happening to him he didn’t understand.

“For the longest time he couldn’t see the value in living and I can sympathize with that, I don’t know if he still doesn’t but he thinks he isn’t worthy of it and for someone so intellectually gifted and self aware it’s cute that he’s so emotionally inept. With his smile he could get away with murder and he knows it, he knows he’s not a good person but still chose to side with helping people and is willing to sacrifice everything for it. But it must be lonely to push everyone away because deep down he’s terrified of losing everything important to him. He refuses to have wants and desires without trying to rationalize or justify them in some way and that’s stupid.” You laughed eyes half lidded, not even sure if any of this is making any sense to Dream-zai. The water seemed to help sober you enough to speak in full sentences at least but you still slurred a few words here and there.

Dazai on the other hand has been marveling you wide eyed at a complete loss for words. Where did all this come from? He’s even more confused now and his heart was working overtime to the point it ached. He needed you to stop talking before his “symptoms” got any worse. He couldn’t fight the urge to reach out as you were blissfully unaware continuing your line of thought. 

“At the end of the day I don’t think he knows that love can be unconditional. That people don’t need a reason to care for him-”

It barely registered that he placed his lips on yours but when it does you smile. Your eyes slipped shut as you slumped backwards on the futon. It took Dazai a minute to process everything that just happened as he threw himself on the floor next to you both hands clawing at his face as the realization hit him like a bus. It was the only way to get you to shut up. That was a lie and he knew it but it’s what he kept repeating to himself as his blood ran cold. He wanted to run away but if he did then you’d get suspicious. Would you even remember? This was supposed to be a simple game of chicken. It wasn't supposed to end with him developing feelings of any kind, but no one has ever been so painfully honest with him before. His heart was still racing as he was trying to find an out. He got up and started pacing. He looked back at you, he knew what he must do.

The next morning your head was killing you. It was a mistake to drink with Yosano but at least you can say you did it. You tried to sink back into the covers but you noticed it was hard to shift your position almost like someone was holding you in place. You remembered Ranpo accompanying you back to the dorms. Your eyes shoot wide open as you fight the dizziness. The more you moved the more you felt the need to purge the contents in your stomach. You took some deep breaths as you weighed out your options. You decided to slowly remove the hand around your waist first but when your fingers felt bandages your mind was sent into a different panic. Part of you was relieved it wasn’t Ranpo but this wasn’t any better. The more you woke up you realized you were only wearing your undergarments. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT!

Before you could spiral any further, strong arms pulled you closer as Dazai’s sultry morning voice almost lulled you back to sleep. “Good morning love~” he kissed the crook of your neck “How’re feeling?”

You leaned into the pleasant sensation for a moment as you snapped back to reality. You could panic all you wanted in your head but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “Like shit but I really should have seen this coming honestly.” You shifted to lay on your back feeling the liquids slosh around. You were going to be sick. Dazai was laying on his side using one hand to prop himself up and  using the other one to curl your hair behind your ear and out of your face. He was looking at you like you were his world. It was charming if not almost unsettling since you don’t remember anything from last night at all. “So Love~” You mimic the pet name “Care to fill me in on what we got up to last night?” Based on Dazai’s current lack of shirt and snarky demeanor you could only imagine that you guys finally had at it but it doesn’t bridge the gap for how you ended up here with him.

“Ah so you don’t remember.” Dazai acted smug but hearing that was a huge relief to him. The last thing he needed was for you to remember him being mildly flustered by your words alone. He let his finger trace along your jaw tipping your chin up at him. “Want me to jog your memory?” 

“Depends on who caved, but you could always give me a demonstration.”

How peculiar, he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. You must genuinely not remember anything from last night. Out of all the ways he planned for this to go down he half expected you to see through him immediately as you have in the past. Maybe the alcohol was to blame? Whatever the case he intended on using this to his advantage as he leaned in to close the distance between you. The longer you guys spent fooling around the more time Dazai had to ignore his responsibilities. Victory was sweet, the kiss however taste of stale liquor. 

He smirked as he pulled away “Last night you waited outside my door and threw yourself at me confessing your undying love for me-” You started laughing but stopped feeling a wave of nausea. You sat up gesturing your hand for him to give you a minute to assess whether you should go throw up or not. Even if you could keep all the fluids inside you it was probably better that you did. It would be less for your liver to process later. Dazai seemed to understand as he helped you to the bathroom. He even helped get your hair out of the way and rubbed circles on your back while he mentioned this is why no one drinks with Yosano anymore. Once you got most of it out, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Going back to last night, I call bullshit.” He was being too overly dramatic for you to gauge any semblance of what really happened.

“Aw but I thought you trusted me~”

“I do, which is why I'm not even going to bother with what I don’t remember.”

He frowned, you weren’t playing fair at all.

[just-antithings]

I've had the misfortune of meeting multiple antis IRL, so here's a story.(or well, two)

So I met this person in my drawing class at school and they interduced me to BTD, fucking, BTD. They have openly admitted that they use an Alt where they lie about their age in order to interact with the fan content. And they sat "oh its a great game, it's fucked up". But I brought up incest vaguely and they nearly flipped "ew are you a proshipper??"

Genuinely hypocrisy, literally "well I'm not a disgusting freak proshipper ans I understand that [insert thing] is bad and I'm not glorifying it by reading it" but ONLY AFFORD THAT THOUGHT TO THEMSELVES, if anyone else does it who doesn't share their views on a 1-to-1 basis like a mirror reflection then you deserve death

Another one that I met was reading something but then incest showed up and they 1) stopped reading, which is understandable if it made them uncomfortable but then, 2) complained to everyone and 3) whined about it for 2 days straight

I am so tired and I hate how popular the anti mindset is for teenagers because I'm just trying to get through high school, not avoid getting doxxed by my fucking classmates

[lordofdragos]

ITS TIME

TIME FOR THE DRAGOS WALL OF IMAGES AND SCREENSHOTS *UPROAROUS APPLAUSE* Ok but for real For the people that know what this is you already know (Great sentence there Drago glad I can speak English to say stuff like that) but for those that DON'T know This is going to be me screaming and having a mental break down about a game called "In Stars and Time" I highly recommend you DO NOT view under the read more page break if you intend to play this game at any future point in your life, which I would HIGHLY recommend the game is so GOOD AAA Anyways, off to the races!

Actually let me add tags to this post first... And done!

WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WHEN YOU WON'T LET ME YOUR BACKSTORY This sounds like something me and my friends would say to each other when we're being assholes

Game gives us the best party member to control in my personal opinion My personal opinion is I've played this game for like 20 minutes but I threw scissors 3 times against Tutorial Kid I know what I am *Insert that always throws scissors guy meme where he complains about the rock players ruining the metagame*

L bozo sorry m8 YOU'LL GET OVER IT AXFCDHVGJN

I get the distinct feeling that everything will not be fine soon . . . Owie

Time to talk to every bird again!! I am mentally stable I swear the game hasn't already captured my entire soul what no haha

Its the Bastard tm I vaguely know about this character ALSO YES THANK YOU I NOTICED THAT HAPPENING ACTUALLY

So I MAYYYYYYY have gone through this dialogue like 30 times or something to see if anything funny would happen It didn't

Hooray for teamwork!!

DAMN KID DO YOU MIND Also note here from Future Drago Does this one not count as a loop since it tutorials you to restart in the castle? I don't think it increased my loop number

AYO?

WOK!!!!!!!!! Man I really love all of the characters but Bonnie is interesting to me because they are written so perfectly like an actual child Which means I constantly flip between YEAH CHILD ENERGY AND EXCITMENT And get this RUNT AWAY FROM ME GOOD LORD I know it somewhat sounds like I dislike them but no really just more of a testament to how GOOD the writing is

So real game

Mission failed we'll get em next time

Sometimes when the game itself tells you you cannot go further the best way forward is to fight to the death BTW I recommend losing to a normal Sadness some time good reading there

MINOR WORD CHANGE GAME I SEE YOU YOU AINT SLICK

War. War never changes. Went down purely to spite Bonnie for saying smart kid intuition we all stupid here except Odile

This conversation gave me the feels man

Funnyjokespun person! Also Hampter Sif!

End of images for this post but final thoughts at the end of this wonderful loop WHY WON'T ANYONE TOUCH SIF DID SIF ASKING TO STAY WITH THEIR FRIENDS AT THE BEGINNING CAUSE THIS DID THE FUCKING TREE DO THIS MAN?? It has been TEN HOURS and I just finished loop 4 I am so glacially slow (I think) I do basically everything everytime because I love it I refuse to fall into despair! The game will probably change that without my consent in the future though so OH BOY

Alright thats one massive post done how do I like schedule this so I can type more and have them all come out at around the same time...?

[vortainz]

How it ends

the ending of IZ is ,, a really odd topic

technically it has 4 endings, well, 4.5

1 : invader dib

no, it in no way was a planned ending ever, but i feel it deserves mentioning considering how prevalent it was

it originally started on TAIZS when the producer was interviewed, he went on to confirm there was a intention to steer the show towards IRK and talking about its “”existence””

(also istg there was a ask where he vaguely explains the plot as a joke but i can’t find it for the life of me)

there were multiple versions of it but there’s two that circulated the most

A: “this special would have allegedly followed Tenn’s kidnapping by the Meekrob, and an all-out war happening between the Meekrob and the Irkens, which would have ended with Zim (aided by Gaz) being victorious over Dib, The Resistys, and the Meekrob, and finally conquering Earth.” (fan wiki)

B: the focus of the show would slowly shift towards irk, dib would get more crazed trying to stop the empire, zim and gaz would team up (or date, depends on who you asked) and stop both dib and the empire. everyone else dies and zagf/r saves the rest of earth

2 : space smoothies

In a nicktoons magazine, IZ made its “””final””” return. in which it had its first comic iteration where zim successfully took over the earth, but just kinda gives up when he sees the merch of himself. dib complains and zim offers to just have a jolly ol’ time in space, them both leaving earth in disarray while just being buds

3 : dookie loop

The “”canon”” ending, basically zim traps dib and the rest of the universe in a timeloop due to not being able to finish a puzzle. blah blah blah i’ll rant about his reasoning for that in another post ANYWAYS,, he eventually finishes it and resigns to fixing the timeline, but the “fix timeline button” doesn’t work and the universe implodes, everyone dies.

4 : nothing is real

i haven’t fully pieced together the lore but this is what ive gathered

rk is god. kinda.

in their orginal universe, zim and dib are real people, dib has gone missing and zim conquered earth. the conditions are really bad till he finally gets the idea to just indoctrinate them all

rk uses the comics as a “coping mechanism” of sorts, avoiding what’s really going on by just reading the comics, it’s really the only think they can do anyways

here’s where my idea sort of splits

A : they continue reading the comics and recapping them all, imagining this fantastical world where life is just zim and dib fighting in middle school, each winning and losing occasionally. rk starts making their own comics and aus, getting more and more absorbed by the characters of zim and dib that anything other than them is incredibly distressing

they get so sucked into their own mind that at this point they feel as though they ARE the creator of these characters and comics. when the story in their mind gets too off track, when it’s getting to the point where it might end, they insert themselves into it and fix whatever issue there was

B : bk (brain kid) is god essentially, rk was originally from the universe as described before but was scooped up by bk at some point and put into the recap section of the comic universe, something similar to in issue 40. in the comic universe, IZ isn’t real, it’s just a comic. yet rk is still able to manipulate the story and interact with the characters, when the comic is finally coming to and end they step in and just start everything over again

oh yeah in both A n B what i mean by ‘the comic ending’ is that earth is burning and no one wins, both zim and dib are about to die

⬆️ sorry if none of this made sense 😭 i’m struggling to word it correctly + still theorizing

4.5 : timetravel

Probably the most simple one, zim conquers earth, dib dies by being stupid, zim gets killed by his younger self, the end. the only reason it’s “4.5” is due to it being specific to the timeline of that issue, as none of the other entries acknowledge it

[lonesplashy]

Ok I see ppl on Tumblr talking Abt how much they liked the final episodes but honestly I was severely underwhelmed by the fionna and cake ending. If you don't want to see me just list out everything I like and dislike and why according to my arbitrary personal preferences scroll now.

The second half of the fight with scabby was meh and repetitive. At least the gumlee was cute. Fionna is still the bestest even if her final fight kinda sucked. I love her dearly and I hope she is living her best life.

The lack of Ooo Marceline in the end was literally so disappointing too I wish we could've seen her again at SOME point.

And just in general the ending felt really rushed, I feel like if they had some more episodes to work with it would've been a lot smoother.

Simons pov was just so severely underwhelming, it just felt like filler to me.

I literally didn't care if it was going to be happy or sad ending for Simon as long as it made me feel things like the last couple of episodes did but it just felt totally flat. It didn't really feel like an ending at all. I wouldn't even mind the breakup angle they took under normal circumstances if it wasn't for the fact he like. Literally spent 12 years basically being in a constant mental breakdown, and a thousand years before that subconsciously searching for her, and her literally driving herself to insanity and becoming golb to keep him safe, but wow suddenly everything's chill cuz he played a video game. Ok. Simon just realized that whoops he didn't always take Betty's feelings into account and they parted ways.

And I will repeat: I DO NOT MIND THE BREAK UP ANGLE. IT MAKES SENSE OBJECTIVELY. HOWEVER. IT FEELS LIKE THERE WAS LIKE. TWO MINUTES OF THOUGHT PUT INTO IT. DEFINITELY NOT SUPER HEARTSTRINGS PULLING TO ME. DO NOT GET IN MY COMMENTS BEING WELL ACTKULLY THIS IS JUST ME COMPLAINING ABOUT CARTOONS.

I liked the golbetty in the bus and the golbetty statue. I could bs something about them going their separate ways on a journey the other can't go on and insert trigun quote here about how the ticket to the future is always blank but I just really like golbetty. She's great shes monsterous she's perfect.

Just in general Simon and Betty felt off to me during the final episodes, I can't really put my finger on it but they just felt weird. I'm sure Betty's been doing a lot of thinking in the void and all but it still fell to the left of them I think. The whole time I was watching I was just like. Hm.

Edit: got it. Betty has always been wanting to keep Simon thinking about her. Always. With AI Betty head she flat out said "I knew it would drive you crazy but at least you'd always be thinking about me" and it's like a core thing she does stuff for the Dramatics. While you can argue she's been doing a lot of thinking in the void and matured because of it she's also been a goddess of CHAOS. If anything she's gonna go more loony rather than more mature.

Not to sound like a doomed crazy yuri enthusiast but there are literally no normal or healthy actions you can take after literally becoming a god for someone.

Maybe I'm just too committed to the bit but I'm a solid believer that if you start a weird fucked up path you gotta end on a weird fucked up note. Although the severe disappointment of nothing happening is probably the most fucked up thing they could do to me.

Ik it's supposed to be some sometimes life doesn't give you a tidy ending stuff but also this is fiction I get enough fuck yous like this from reality and ignored job applications I want my fuck yous from fiction to be not sadly vague. Or at least better written.

At least Simon's in therapy. About time.

And the little emoticons he's using in his phone. :)

Do feel free to put your own opinions in on whether you liked or disliked the ending just play nice 🤙

[oreramar]

Florist Talk: Deliveries

Time to talk about what happens when flowers leave the shop! As always, I'm talking from the anecdotal perspective of someone working in a small US flower shop. This is going to be especially important for this one because the place I work at has some Delivery Rules that I know for a fact aren't - maybe can't be - universal, especially if you get into bigger cities.

For writing purposes, take inspiration from any bits of this that could be interesting for whatever plot you're writing out, and change others as makes sense or is properly narrative.

So, first of all - is your Florbo going to be running deliveries at all?

I do, because it's a small shop and we don't have a dedicated delivery driver. I design flowers and also drive them places, except on very very very busy days when we get other people in just to drive, like Valentine's and Mother's Day.

If you're writing a bigger shop in a bigger city, or even a small one with more dedicated roles, a flower design Florbo might not drive deliveries unless it's very needed, for whatever reason. Even so, you could have another character of some importance be the dedicated driver anyhow, or you might just vaguely need or want the opening to a scene be the driver coming back complaining about something that happened on the run, so this still might be useful.

So here's roughly what happens when Flower Deliveries go out:

Deliveries get sorted by Most Efficient Route. If a delivery address is unknown it can be looked up on a map. Maybe someone uses GPS to navigate. Maybe the Flower System being used can map a route for you automatically. Maybe it's all done in the driver's head because they know the area really well by now.

Flowers (and other things like balloons, etc) get put into the back of the Flower Delivery Van. There are holders back there to keep things in place en route. These holders can vary from foam inserts in plastic trays, with circular shapes in various sizes cut out of them, to wood boxes with more various circular shapes cut out of the top, to styrofoam trays with various openings to, heck it, some of those heavy cinderblock bricks with cloth or foam lining the inside so glass vases don't chip on the edges on turns.

Broadly speaking, these measures will mostly be effective. Sometimes the fit is loose, though, and a change in direction or speed is too sharp, and the driver will hear something rustle, thump, and start to trickle water. That is never a good sound.

Some vases fit the holders better than others. The ideal is a good snug fit that doesn't allow wobble, let alone clank-clank-clank on every turn or bump.

Deliveries tend to have matching delivery slips that are kept up front by the driver and are used to remind driver of addresses and to check things off as they're done. Personal anecdote: it's the norm at my workplace to write the time of delivery on the slip when it's done, so that if anyone calls later and asks if/when it was delivered we can give that info.

Here's where stuff is gonna vary: the rule at my place is that the delivery goes to the door of the house, and if no one answers, it cannot be left there. If no one answers the door, we call the recipient's phone number off the slip, assuming we got it. If we get an answer there, we ask if there's a better time to deliver these flowers, or another place within town - sometimes someone's at work and can receive them there, or they're out until a certain point and we'll return then.

If no one answers the phone, or if we don't have their number, we call the person who ordered the thing, and tell them what's up and ask if they have a way to get hold of the person the flowers are for. Sometimes it's a yes, and we get the info asked for above. Sometimes they also fail.

Sometimes voicemails must be left, with the store's phone number given and a request to arrange a better delivery time. Sometimes the voicemail box is full or has not been set up yet and we just gotta try again later.

The flowers are never left, only messages. They go back to the store if they must. They are stored in the cooler for the next day if they really must. They are remade a week later if they really really must (sometimes people go on vacation out of town right when someone they know, who doesn't know about the vacation, decides to send them birthday flowers or something).

This rule is definitely not universal. I've sent flowers other places and been told how they were just left on the front step and were found by accident as the recipient didn't ever hear a doorbell or knock or get a phone call like the website said they would upon delivery.

Businesses tend to be easier to deliver stuff to than houses. At the very least you've generally got some kind of front desk or counter to leave the things at.

Other little notes on delivering stuff:

If in a cold season and place, like sub-freezing cold, flowers must be put into plastic bags which are taped or stapled or tied shut before they go outside. This traps just enough warm air around the flowers to keep them from freezing between building and vehicle and building. There is a fine line between "cooler which keeps flowers fresh longer" and "freezing air that will give flowers frostbite so that they look nice until they thaw at which point they go to hell immediately."

Sometimes someone is sent flowers from someone they don't want flowers from. I have been told that, as flower shop, we have to complete the delivery. We can't take them back. What happens to them after they're out of our hands is, well, out of our hands, but we gotta be able to honestly tell the customer, if asked, that we did indeed successfully deliver the flowers. That being said, write what you will.

Delivering balloons on a windy day is hell. I haven't lost one to the wind yet - knots and strings tend to be pretty sturdy and I keep a good grip on them - but they will batter you all around the head as you try to walk with them, and if there are multiple they will tangle the strings together.

A delivery driver of any type probably knows the general area pretty damn well. Even if they don't know exactly where XYZ street is, chances are they know the general direction where it should be.

A florist driver probably knows by heart the location of and routes to nearby/local hospitals, clinics, funeral chapels, schools, and quite possibly churches.

Sometimes you get to meet one or more Very Good Dogs on a delivery and it is the highlight of your day.