#My opinions and views will change as I continue watching I just wanna share my thoughts so far

[ask-codeearasure]

Ink, Sketch, and the curse of lack of emotions. (Alternate Title: Ouija geeks out and fangirls about seeing something she has been wanting to be explored for AGES)

So during the writing of The Outer Realms, I have been watching Underverse with Sarco (who had insisted I watch it, thankfully) -- it is a really good series by the way -- because I had no idea who the fuck Cross is and how actually extremely complicated Ink is as a character.

One of my biggest complaints about the fandom was their lack of creativity over someone having a lack of emotions and empathy and how that could affect his interactions with those around him and his interpersonal relationships. I had ranted to Sarco about this, and went as far as comparing Ink to two different characters:

Kyubey from Madoka Magica and Nilah from League of Legends.

I made this comparison because of how Nilah could only feel joy and nothing else and she knew this and constantly had an internal struggle with herself because she knew this was a bad thing.

With Kyubey, I made that comparison because it actively promoted miscommunication with the other characters and never once did he consider what he was doing was immoral nor did he even bother to try to understand everyone. His species actually view emotions as a mental illness. A fucking defect.

I am currently at Season 2 (watched 0.5 just last night) of Underverse and I saw that Ink is very much like Kyubey. He is unable to even consider let alone he doesn't even want to try and consider or even empathize with the emotions of those around him or how he is actively hurting them. Ink doesn't view his actions as immoral and is even excited to see the X-Event continue and go further.

Now this isn't to say that I don't like Ink -- no, this is the exact opposite.

I FUCKING LOVE IT. I LOVE SEEING HIS BIASES GETTING EXPLORED FOR ONCE INSTEAD OF WRITTEN OFF AS INHERENTLY VILLAINOUS.

I understand that canonically speaking Ink can never ever go without his paints because they are the one thing that is keeping him alive and functional (speaking of which if you are reading The Outer Realms -- feel free to go to our Ask Box, doing so and saying anything actively influences the story because it will be treated as you donating paint to Ink.) and thus he does have emotions in that sense. But also canonically, Ink views other people, with the exception of Creators, as "characters" which is literally everyone else, and Dream breaks their friendship over that because that's an actually understandable reason to do so. Not saying either of them are inherently bad people either, it's just Ink's got issues. Very. Interesting. Issues.

When I was first creating Sketch and telling Sarco about him and how the fandom is not pushing Ink as a character and his concept far enough hence why I made Sketch, Sarco kept telling me that Sketch is literally Ink's worst nightmare coming to life in a sense. In fact, I didn't know about Pale!Ink either until currently and he and Sketch have their emptiness in common. This is something that scares the shit out of Ink to see, because that could have been them.

Upon further discussion, I learned a lot about Ink and he is now one of my favorite characters -- however, I have a bias towards Sketch because I'm an edgy goth bitch fuck you.

I literally think that I am not pushing this fear far enough.

What if Ink gets stuck with only one vial and has only that one emotion for an extended point of time. How off-putting would it be for him to be in that position?

Okay. I am gonna go back to drawing my emotionless nightmare-fueled son. Have fun with this explosion of fangirling.

-- Ouija

[remedyxtragedy]

i saw that you watch blair white, you should watch this video https://youtu.be/S4qvPouh1gE?si=OyHLCDVzj9ZIcSUC i think it might change your perspective on her if you do it with an open mind. i’m not trying to be rude but blair is an asshole and the people that commented on your post didnt explain why she is very well

Alright, I have to make something abundantly and profoundly clear for you people who are entertaining this image of anybody who demonstrates the slightest most minute iota of preference for Blair White and her beliefs. As problematic and notorious of a figure Blair may be and rightfully so depending on the context, one thing I will continue to reiterate for as long as I am obligated to, as someone who openly opposes the bullshit collectivist agenda people are trying to perpetuate nowadays that puts anyone from the LGBTQ+ community on a pedestal, is that while I will fully hold Blair accountable for the reprehensible pattern of errors and questionable behavior she's fallen into over the years, many of her opinions are still nonetheless ones I wholeheartedly agree with and that's coming from someone who's only ever watched her more recent videos. I never knew 2016 Blair until now, I was much younger then and have long since shaped my views about the trans community and what I personally accept based on my ideals, and perhaps if I did know about her and saw all of her lies, controversies, and diatribes unravel in real time it would've of course naturally left a much more sour taste in my mouth. Genuinely, I am thankful you've brought her past faults to my attention because mistakes and wrongs of this degree absolutely should not just remain something of the past and unlike the spineless bigoted zombies who treat and defend each other like they're a hive mind, I will not sit here and downplay anything she's done just because I feel inclined to do so.

However...all that to say, I really really do not give a shit. I seriously, genuinely, could not fucking care less. And You wanna know why? No it's not because I'm belligerent narrow-minded sycophant, no it's not because I think she deserves to be exonerated and absolved of all guilt for her wrongs, and no it's not because I hold any amount of vitriol towards any people part of the LGBTQ+ community and seek to use her as a puppet to push my own ideals. I am going to put it simply: I do not admire or revere Blaire as an individual whatsoever, never really did. Her tough and unwavering personality, did it appeal to me? Yes. Do a lot of her opinions really align with mine? Yes. Do I avidly support everything she says, think she's right in all regards, and deserves to be crowned as the spokesperson of all trans people? Absolutely fucking not. And that's because I'm not looking at Blair with any ounce of veneration, malicious intent, or any deeper ulterior motive beyond just resonating with her points. I like what she has to say and that's as deep as my liking towards her gets. Her errors are genuinely irrelevant to me, and I'm not saying that to undermine the gravity of what she's done because the things Dangelowallace described in that video are some really messy shit, but drill it into your skull and let it be known--I'm not drawn to Blaire as a person, I'm drawn to the points that she makes and ultimately if she really is this horrible of an individual, I can literally just find any other youtuber who shares my sentiments and watch them instead.

I strongly believe that your heart was in the right place, you were doing your due diligence as someone who is more knowledgeable in her past beyond 'Oh she's a pick me, she has internalized transphobia, she's a bigot', to inform and educate me as someone who for all you knew was heading down a rocky path. And that much I truly do deeply respect and thank you for. While I do continue to find it mildly insulting when people look at my post and automatically assume I'm bound to become as problematic of a person as she is just because I too personally find it endlessly outrageous when people try to identify as anything other than he, she, or they--I get where you're coming from and I respect you. Still, I must remind you and anyone reads this--I am my own individual with my own ideals, my own thoughts, my own perceptions of what should be considered socially acceptable, all things of which were formed by my own experiences and conclusions drawn from years of me studying my own beliefs. From here on out I don't want to see any more people trying to sway me on people identifying as fucking objects or animals or people using neopronouns. Too often do those dumbasses conflate not supporting those ideas with not respecting them on the most basic fundamental level; there is a difference, learn it. This is coming from someone who is Black, Christian, biromatic, and asexual. People are so pathetically obsessed with these ideas of being oppressed and restrained that they fail to realize that someone not agreeing with their decisions or way of living is not equivalent to them outright making efforts to hurt them or degrade their existence. It's always gotta be that you're homophobic or transphobic or bigoted when in reality most people literally just don't give a shit about you or what you do, and even if they do to a problematic extent it's simply futile to get so worked up over who does and who doesn't accept you, which is something that's nonetheless out of your control and therefore not worth fretting about. I'm not sayin you're exactly that kind of person, but I have noticed that many of Blaire's loudest critics are people part of that category and I'm not letting them encroach on my freedom to believe what I want because they can't handle the idea of not being universally accepted.

All in all, no disrespect to you, I'm glad you genuinely wanted to enlighten me and not just bombarde me with conjecture. Imma still believe what I believe but at the end of the day, I respect everybody as far as I am obligated to as a human being and therefore I will continue to tread carefully when it comes to watching Blair's videos. Final message though, if you're genuinely offended by someone not respecting your pronouns or sexuality or whatever--tough shit, life goes on.

[elysianslove]

ah, okay! i just wanted to see your take on yūji and sukuna "sharing" a s/o. you had only started dating yūji recently and, sukuna, being the little attractive shit he is, would sometimes interrupt your quality time, switching out with yūji when you're, say, cuddling, like one second you're running your hands through yūji's hair with him kinda dozing off in your lap, the next thing you know sukuna is smirking up at you. or when you give yūji kisses: a peck on the cheek—sukuna's mouth would appear there, or for long lasting ones, when you pull away, you'll see your "boyfriend" has gained tattoos. at first, sukuna does this solely to annoy you both, but somehow ended up lowkey enjoying the affection you're providing (you weren't bothered that much, most of the time just going along with it—it wasn't like he can switch for long periods of time anyway), so much that they resort to this childish competition over yūji's body; anyways, yeah, headcanons or scenario, whichever you prefer! i hope my specifications aren't a bother—if they are, pls feel free to ignore this request!! tysm 💖

really sorry for this being late oh my gosh. but oh my god all of these scenarios??? anon you made me feel sum type of way on god. 

warnings; poly relationship ig? some nonconsensual stuff but it’s not extreme! mention of nsfw

honestly though? you said it all 

at the start of your relationship, yuuji would be super hesitant to be alone with you. he has control majority of the time, but it’s always a risk and at least when he’s around many people sukuna isn’t as much of like this itchy nuisance. 

sukuna would find the whole idea of the relationship trivial. like he’s watching from the sidelines as you spend more time with yuuji, can feel the swell of emotions threatening to burst in yuuji’s chest. it’s annoying! a waste of time! and it’s not like he kept his opinions a secret. any time yuuji would go out to meet with you, sukuna would be pestering him like you could be using this time to grow in power and train yuuji’s just like bruh on god i will switch with you and jump off a cliff

first few months, sukuna would view you as an itch that won’t go away no matter how bad you scratch at it. he interrupts you two all the time. if you lean in to kiss yuuji’s cheek, sukuna’s mouth is there, licking at your lips to pull you away. jokes on him you’ll lick him back. oh you wanna go skinny dipping at 3 in the morning with yuuji? too bad it’s sukuna now. yuuji’s hands resting on the back of your neck while you kiss/or just because? sukuna’s mouth appears to just bite at you

it’s bothersome and infuriating how unbothered you’re always are about it though. any time he appears you always laugh it off, or annoy him back until he himself goes away. if he switches with your boyfriend, you always roll your eyes and just go, “aight gimme back my bf now.” you’re not being put off by any of this! if anything, he’s finding that it excites you more. puts even more life into your relationship.

he continues to do it anyways, but once, as you’re leaning in to kiss yuuji, sukuna unexpectedly switches with him, but not in time enough for you to notice the change, and you end up kissing sukuna instead. it’s not a passionate, long lasting one, not the same ones sukuna has had to endure watching and feeling yuuji go through. and yes, he can, in some way, feel you when you kiss yuuji, but you’re kissing him now. it’s the same, but it’s incredibly different. it’s soft, slow, and it sends a tingling down sukuna’s spine that he can’t decide whether to hate or love. and in a fit of shock, sukuna realizes that — that it’s good. and he’s kissing you back, and you’re still kissing him. why aren’t you stopping? — he doesn’t want you to stop. shit! 

yuuji switches out with sukuna before you pull back and open your eyes, and when you do, you see him just as shocked as sukuna had felt. you’re so confused, asking if he’s okay (“it’s like i’ve never kissed you before what’s wrong?”) but he decides to keep quiet and not mention anything. when he’s alone, he says out loud to an empty room, “did it feel good?” he hadn’t been expecting sukuna’s reply, but it was curt, a short and simple, “yes.” and that was the end of that. 

yuuji didn’t like the fact that sukuna had kissed you without your permission, even if it had been accidental. you didn’t know it wasn’t yuuji. and he hated that he hadn’t found the courage to tell you. but he was intrigued at the prospect of sukuna finally accepting you. so in the midst of cuddling you, while you slept in his arms, he shifted with sukuna, unexpectedly and without warning. imagine the curse’s surprise to look down and suddenly see that your arms are wrapped tightly around his middle, your head on his chest as you sigh gently in your sleep. his arms are holding you close to him, and the feeling is only faintly familiar, a sense of deja vu because of sharing yuuji’s body. and then, just like that, it’s over. 

again, as he lays with your head on his chest and his eyes on the ceiling above him, yuuji asks sukuna, “did it feel good?” and again, sukuna replies, “yes.” 

that’s how the idea of sharing you began. they’re both still yet to discuss it with you, but it’s obvious that it’s weighing heavy on their minds. and because you know him so well, you can tell when yuuji’s been hiding something from you, so you ask him to just out with it. it’s a very interesting conversation. you go from shocked, to neutral, to confused, to intrigued, to teasing. it’s all over the place. but it’s the most shocking to him when you fix him with a determined smile and glance and say, “i wanna try.”

it’s very clumsy at first. sukuna and yuuji fight over yuuji’s body like fucking children. you have to like establish ground rules and some sort of routine to actually get them to settle down. nights are altered between them, with who gets to sleep next to you — one night yuuji, one night sukuna, unless either one of them is experiencing a bad day of sorts. you give two kisses now instead of one, and it’s very comical because you kiss yuuji, he steps back and he’s essentially the same person but with??? tattoos??? sukuna’s not a fan of dates, so it’s always yuuji taking you out, but nights in are really endearing with sukuna, because he gives incredible massages while in the bath with you. like i said, at first, it’s all over the place because they make it out to be some sort of competition between them, but then steadily they fall into a rhythm. 

i’ll briefly talk about nsfw. this is something they cannot, for the life of them, get accustomed with. if yuuji’s being a lil shit to sukuna for the day, he will switch out with him right as yuuji’s about to orgasm just because. wow king of edging and orgasm denial! he switches out with yuuji a lot, especially when it comes to you going down on him (them?). it’s not like yuuji doesn’t do it back, because he does. he so does, especially with how he has more control than sukuna does. the one thing that they can agree on is pleasuring you, and it’s always a priority no matter who holds the reigns on yuuji’s body at the time. sometimes you’ll need sukuna to be absolutely ruthless with you and split you in half and yuuji will respect that, because sometimes you need the mixture of yuuji’s soft hands and rough thrusts instead. it’s all about the balance, my loves. 

anyways! i feel like i have more to say but i can’t think of anything else rn. being with sukuna and yuuji? best of both worlds. the end! 

[septembersghost]

Hi! A few words I wanted to add about Hank and about Jesse as well. There’s a video of some extra moments from Jesse’s confession tape. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but just in case, I’m leaving the link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfvQIx8V14Q&t=205s&ab_channel=MoviesBreaker You know what hit me from the get-go? It’s Jesse, obviously very traumatized and suffering from PTSD, begging ‘No, no, I don’t wanna talk about it. Can we just take a break?’ (because it’s hard for him, he’s actively reliving his trauma and, I think, retraumatizing himself too), and Hank just cuts him off with a dismissive ‘Later.’ and pushes him to continue. Again, I like Hank, but he’s clearly not so kind, especially to Jesse. I’m also thinking about Marie. She must have heard this confession, right? And I wonder if she too didn’t really care, whether too betrayed by Walt and too obsessed with catching him (and she was, judging from her scene with a therapist), or whether she just completely shared Hank’s opinion. Or maybe she did care, maybe she was able to see Jesse as someone more than just ‘a junkie’, someone with a heart and a conscience? Like, did it leave an impression on her? And when months later, when Jimmy tried to play victim and told her ‘Jesse Pinkman and the others, they are out there, and they are to blame, I am not’, did it change anything for her? Did she remember that moment when Jesse was crying in their living room, crumbled with guilt, and maybe that’s why she looked at Jimmy with so much contempt and didn’t believe him even for a second? (pt 1)

(pt 2) Also, as I was rewatching this confession now, I remembered the Waterworks episode, the way Jesse was with Kim right then. And it’s CRAZY how much he’s changed. Crazy and so painful too. Those are two completely different 5-minute long moments of basically Jesse talking and recalling his past experiences, and just in a span of a couple of years, he’s a completely different person. His patterns of speech changed, his behavior, his eyes, his expressions, and it hurts. He was such a cheerful bumbling kid back then, just rambling happily (rather incoherently) about everything in front of him or whatever came to his mind, adding ‘like’ and ‘yo’ and ‘you know’ a lot, smiling almost all the time, doing his little cute gestures with sparkling eyes, and here he’s just… He’s just so in pain. Gone is that silly bubbling boy. His speech here is much more cohesive and coherent, he’s choosing his words, but god it’s so filled with grief and regret. The raw pain in his voice, the way he’s crying, it’s just… He broke my heart in this scene. I just want to hug him so much…

i saw what you wrote on the other ask i got about this and really appreciated it (i'm SO behind on properly keeping up with everything lately that going through asks keeps making me miss replies i want to reblog/respond to!). it's viscerally upsetting how little value is placed on jesse as a human life by people around him. he is constantly exploited and used. hank - who overwhelmingly struggles with ptsd of his own! so you'd think he'd have some empathy for it - only sees jesse as a criminal and a tool. he only sees him, in S5, as a way to get to walt. no real kindness or respite or even safety is offered to him. "kind" is not an adjective i myself would've ever used for hank, and that scene in the interrogation room was meant to represent all of the lives lost, but it was a tad jarring for me. marie's perspective about her late and beloved husband is certainly understandable, but it isn't wholly true, and i'd be fine with that except the scene kind of played it straight? you can misuse a badge like you can misuse a law license.

we only know so much from context, but unfortunately i tend to think marie agrees with her husband's views on criminals deserving less than humane treatment (see the scene after he's assaulted jesse for insight into this - she suggests he lie and say jesse attacked first. "it's some lowlife degenerate versus you doing the job you're supposed to. why should you be the one who pays for doing the right thing?" and to his credit, hank openly says it was not the right thing. yet he still goes on to treat jesse's life as a poker chip.) i don't think marie ever has a sense of sympathy for jesse, i just think she holds jimmy (saul to her) and jesse on similar levels of contempt.

breaking bad and bcs do an interesting thing regarding their views on individual personhood and criminal behavior. i think about wendy - she is treated abominably by basically everyone. kim is an exception. she sees her as a person and offers her assistance, should she need it. (and this could lead into a discussion of whether self-punishing as she did ultimately caused more harm to the world than good, because she removed herself from being able to help anyone or affect any positive change by obliterating her purpose so thoroughly. i'm not blaming her, it's just such a terribly sad path for her.) badger, skinny pete, combo. nacho. mike. jimmy and kim. we spend a lot of time with these people who do illegal and even reprehensible things, and it asks us to attempt to understand where humanity can still lie in that. jesse is maybe the most defined and biggest example of it. he does unquestionably wrong things, but we see the depths of his heart and the horrors of his suffering and suspend moral judgment, because at some point it's just not going to help. jesse was a kid who needed concrete guidance and support, and instead he's mistreated and rejected and looked upon with derisive cruelty and broken again and again. does it matter that he isn't "innocent"? at what point do we decide to prioritize compassion and realize that someone has been punished enough?

these stories asks us to look at how people get lost in life - to mistakes, to trauma, to abuse, to bad choices, to hurts internal and external - and to sort of do a there but for the grace of god go i... examination. we all make choices and slip up and struggle - how far could we fall given difficult enough circumstances? how much sympathy can we extend to those who are so damaged? how much trust can we actually put in the systems around us? i've mentioned this, but it's why boiling a lot of these characters down to just ____, just their worst traits, is incomprehensible and even hurtful to me.

jesse will never be that boisterous young man again, yet it's the echo of him we're left with as our final moment. maybe to remember how much difference it would have made if something could've turned his course around. instead, he is always going to carry that grief, those scars. he is always going to be changed. we have a much fuller picture of him than someone like hank ever could, or gus, or even walt. mike may be the only one who sees his whole a bit more clearly. we don't love him despite his wrongdoings, we love him because we understand who he is at the core. and that, to me, really matters, to understand not only the story, but also as (hopefully) an exercise in empathizing with others.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Do you actually like the new show?

Honestly I'm not sure yet?

I'm *enjoying* it and I'm really doing my best to view it as its own independent piece of media, and I'm seeing a few flaws in it that have nothing to do with the books.

Quick examples

I think the score is just, honestly awful lol. imo it ruined the floaty sex scene and Paul's death in particular, both of those moments for me the music was so cheesy that I couldn't tell what tone the show was going for and it was so distracting that it killed the mood for me. The church scene was on thin fuckin ice for me but so much else happened I was like, lol it's fine. (I REALLY love the jazz stuff though.)

They've already created a few plot holes/continuity errors with their own lore, and even divorcing it from book lore because it's its own thing, I don't know how that got through all the writers. The show is clearly being intentional in creating a new universe with new rules, but you have to know the original rules to know what you're changing. RJ keeps claiming that they respect the books so much and that everyone in the writers room read 1-5 but I don't understand how you could familiarize yourself that much with the work and not *notice* lore. (This is about the mind gift error btw like, even me not being MAD about the change went "Oh wow they changed the barrier rule!" when it happened and then 5 minutes later, oh wait what?)

The pacing is so sloppy and confusing and they're doing a lot of telling and not showing. Two episodes in and I'm still not sure *why* they're doing a second interview or why Louis loves Lestat. Like Louis can TELL us he's enthralled all he wants but like in the first episode they turned their courtship into a montage and I would've really liked to see that!!!!!!!! I'm a big fan of reading Loustat as The Worst Ship Ever so like so far for me they're tracking as being extremely toxic and completely anchored in manipulation and I'm enjoying that, but I wanna understand the cute stuff, too. Like this story is really important to me because it shows the complicated grieving process when you lose an abuser/leave an abusive relationship and so far we're not seeing enough of what Louis ENJOYS. So when Lestat inevitably is killed, I don't know what exactly Louis is supposed to be grieving.

On that point, I really really loved how much the first episode shared about Louis's family for that very reason. We got to see how sunny breakfast time was an important part of the family routine, and we got to see how close he was with Paul, so when he loses them we understand what he lost. When he loses Lestat, I'm not sure they're giving us enough to understand why he should miss him. (This might not matter bc the story is so different but, it's what I'm wondering based on the first 2!)

imo the show is really struggling with whether or not it wants the viewer to understand IWTV before they watch, and I think it's kinda fun where they've put in little movie references, I also think they went so far out of their way to say they weren't remaking the movie that it comes off as lazy to me. I get that using these like recognizable icons is going to make it more fun to movie fans who never read the book, but they keep making digs at the movie and saying they're a whole new thing and I'm not exactly sure what they're trying to do here. (This isn't strictly about the quality of the show on its own merits and I'm not sure where to draw the line as whether or not it's a book related complaint LOL, but there's definitely a couple sloppy/unclear world building moments that idk if casuals are gonna be able to follow.)

Other than that, the only things I'm critical about don't have enough context for me to have an opinion yet, but they're on my radar and I'm watching to see how it plays out. IE: Whether or not the incorporation of Covid is tacky, whether or not the marginalized characters are being treated respectfully overall, what is the show's thesis on being ashamed of disability and sexuality and race?

Frankly, the writing on these two episodes (moreso ep2, it feels like they worked extra hard to start ep1 with a bang) has been pretty sloppy at times but I'm happy to stick it out and see how it goes, but idk. And like, there's a lot of awesome enjoyable shows that have sloppy writing moments. I'd still enjoy it if there's enough other cool emotional substance!

Like if this were any other show I might not look this closely but unfortunately I have an extremely neurodivergent relationship with these stupid books and I can't be normal about it. I'm also reviewing it for a podcast so I've been looking very closely to analyze it.

It's a little bit impossible for me not to be disappointed as a book fan, though, and we have to separate here if that's the "show" or if it's the "project" overall. Like, the episodes are fun, it's fine. They've created their own space. At the same time, it's already changed so much of the stuff *I* personally love in VC that like. SHRUG IDK. This is so subjective because everyone has whatever reason they want for liking VC and for some people it's camp & blood & New Orleans and that's fine. But so far a lot of the stuff that I enjoy about the books is simply not here. Honestly it's genuinely unrecognizable to me as an AR piece. And like, I love, honestly--LOVE, the way Sam Reid is playing Lestat, but especially after episode 2 I think he's so HORRIFICALLY out of character I just don't know. It's not Sam's fault bc it's the writing lmfao and he's working with what he's got, but ooof it's rough. It's like he's got all of Lestat's bad qualities and none of his good ones LOL. And I rag on Lestat a LOT but like, I wouldn't like VC if I didn't like Lestat, and this is missing a lot of what I like about Lestat.

And in understanding these new characters I think it's impossible not to use the books as a point of refence to compare & contrast. I think I wouldn't understand Louis on the show nearly as well if I wasn't seeing how intentionally opposite he is from book Louis. That's not a bad thing, in itself, but I find it impossible (for me) not to constantly be looking at the book as a point of comparison to understand the show better.

So it's ALWAYS going to cause a fuss when an adaptation is this radical, you're ALWAYS going to have people who are disappointed if Their Thing gets cut or gets rearranged until it's unrecognizable. That's inevitable. It doesn't make the adaptation bad, it just feels disappointing to losers like myself.

And for me, even letting the show breathe on its own merits, I'm still going to ask if some of these changes help the plot or the characters.

Is it BETTER that Lestat is an edgelord atheist with no respect for humans?

Is it BETTER to closet or straightwash Daniel?

Is it BETTER to change Claudia's story from a grown woman being dependent on others forever because she looks like a child to being about a teenager who can drive and probably be independent if she needed to be?

And if they DON'T help, I'm always going to question why that decision was made. For example, out of the cold if you walk into a vampire show and the interviewer is a random straight guy, no harm no foul. When you know that that was a deliberate creative decision to straightwash a queer character, that's worth criticizing. So I'm not upset as a book purist or anything, in fact I've talked many many many (many, many. Many.) times about how these books wouldn't translate well to TV as a 1:1 faithful adaptation, but when you ask what they ARE changing I think it's fair to make that comparison and ask what it added. A lot of that stuff is subjective, too, so we all might feel differently about it.

so idk.

I'm really trying to be open minded. I'm enjoying it so far but I'm also still super disappointed that they changed so much and it really doesn't feel like IWTV or VC at all to me. I'm, tbh, completely furious about what they're doing to Daniel. I could enjoy it and at the end of the day still be so fucking disappointed that *this* is the version of VC we got after years and years and years of waiting. LIKE YKNOW WHAT I SAW QOTD IN THEATRES AND I WAS JUST ??? DEVASTATED LMFAO. It feels like that all over again. 🤣 And with how long this show might go on and therefore how long AMC retains the rights, it's a very real possibility that this was the only chance in my lifetime to see a faithful adaptation of Armand & Daniel and I can't put into words how upset I am that it's been crushed like this.

It's no secret that my presence in fandom has mostly been as a Devil's Minion nerd so like, idk man. If you were me, how would you feel? I've also never made a secret that Loustat, as a ship, is a little too triggering for me personally to get behind, so like as far as ship content goes and all that fun fandom stuff, this does absolutely nothing for me. RIP :(

So. idk! I'm not sure if I like the new show yet LMAO. I'm enjoying but idk if I "like" it. There's a difference!

[tommyspeakycap]

hi! can you write some dad!andyrobertson please?! I love your writing so much!! <333 something about him with a daughter please 💕 DILF DILF DILF !

oh he's 100% a dilf - and here you go!

a fathers woe

andy struggles with the prospect of his baby growing up as the little girl asks if she can get married

“Daddy?” Andy heard his daughters sweet little voice, “Can i ask you a question.” Andy knows immediately there is another question set to follow, but he cannot help himself from the typical dad response that falls out his lips before he can stop it. “You just did, love.”

You snigger, shaking your head as you dip the little nail painting brush back into the pot before returning it to your daughters foot to finish painting the last of her toes bright pink per her request. “That’s not funny, daddy.” She scolds, frowning. Andy swallows his laughs, nodding his head and holding his hands up in apology. That seems enough for your daughter, who turns back to her sticker book as Andy and you share a look with silent laughter. “Don’t touch them for five minutes.” You instruct, closing the nail polish and kissing your daughters head.

“Course you can ask me a question, lovely. Go on?” Andy hums after giving you a kick kiss before you disappear upstairs. Andy back to grating cheese over his homemade pizza as he hears his daughter crunch her way through the apple slices in her bowl as she lays on her front on the large marble top of the kitchen island, head propped up by her elbows. “Why did you get married to mummy?” She asks sweetly, not looking up at him as she speaks. Mila continues to colour in her little liverpool colouring book, only occasionally stopping to stick on a coloured or sparkly sticker over Trent Alexander-Arnold’s head. Andy purses his lips, tilting his head slightly in thought as he pushes the two trays of pizza’s into the huge oven.

“Because we love each other very much.” Andy replies casually, shrugging as does. He isn’t exactly sure where the question has come from, but he’s sure he’ll be soon to find out considering she’s very young and doesn’t tend to beat around the bush at all. “Is that all?” She asks curiously. Andy mocks hurt with a quirked eyebrow and a scoff that his daughter doesn’t pick up on. With his back pressed against the kitchen counter and ankles crossed over each other, he observed his little girl with the same level of curiosity she had in her question.

“Well, yeah. People gets married for lots of different reason. Me and your mum wanted to be husband and wife, we love each other very much and there’s lots of…” Andy pauses, trying to think of a way to explain the legal benefits of marriage to Mila without completely confusing her young mind. “Homework.” He concludes, somewhat triumphantly proud of his quick thinking. “Adults have lots of homework to do to buy houses and stuff like that. Sometimes that’s easier too when you’re married.” He tries to explain, watching her nod along. Her reception school homework is nothing difficult of course, but she doesn’t enjoy it and it’s difficult to her, so she grasps the concept generally. “But you should never marry anyone just to make your homework easier.” He adds sternly. “You should only marry someone you love.”

“Okay.” She nods, little eyebrows still furrowed. “So does that mean i can marry-”

“No.” Andy interrupts firmly, standing up straight with an immediate frown set into his features. Mila protests with a pout, “But daddy you didn’t let me finish!”

“Still no.” He retorts, offering her a tight lipped smile. “That’s rude, daddy.” Mila chides, sitting up to cross her legs in a basket and frown at her dad in the very same way he’s frowning at her. “Boys are rude.” Andy quips, “That’s why you should never marry one.”

“Mummy married you?” She challenges, cocking one eyebrow and crossing her little arms.

“That’s different.” Andy brushes off, turning away from his daughter to busy himself with sweeping the grated cheese off the counter with one hand into his other hand to flick it into the bin. “How?” Mila protests, making him roll his eyes with his back to her. She is just like you; persistent, usually right and a true powerhouse. She doesn’t give up easily and she almost never backs down. She’s you with the very best of his flaws sprinkled through. And his volume. She is just as loud as he is, much to your dismay.

“Because me and your mum love each other.” Andy says. “Well i love-”

“No you don’t.”

“Daddy you didn’t let me finish! How do you know?” She argues, clearly getting frustrated a little at her usually very easygoing dad. “Because you’re too young.” He responds, seemingly simply.

“You’re not being very kind, daddy.” She grumbles, evidently irritated. “I’m telling mummy.” She slides to the edge of the island countertop, clambering down onto the her little stool before leaping gracelessly down and running off yelling out for you.

Andy sighs to himself, dropping his head into his hands as he slumps down at the island on one of the comfortable stools. He can hear her voice and yours, but not what either of you are saying until it goes quiet and you both appear again the doorway. The little girl year old holds onto your hand tightly.

“What do we say when we haven’t been very kind, Andy?” You prompt, eyebrows raised and an ever so slightly teasing glint in your eyes that’s barely suppressed on the lips that fight a smirk. “I’m sorry, Mila.” Andy apologises, standing off his seat to crouch down on one knee. “Could i give you a hug to say how sorry i am for not listening to you properly and not answering your questions nicely?”

The little girl nods, letting go of your hands to shuffle over to her dad, allowing him to engulf her little body against his large one, almost completely shrouding her from your view. After a moment, he lifts her up and places her back on the kitchen island where she was sitting.

“Daddy was upset because you’re my little girl and you growing up is scary for me to think about.” He admits, swallowing thickly. You and Andy have been practicing a very honest manor of parenting. You sometimes feel let down by the childhood you had and you want to give her better, making sure she has emotional stability and the opportunity to know she can share her feelings whenever. Mistakes will happen, it’s how we respond to them that is important. You want her to be healthy physically and emotionally. It’s one of the most important parts of being a parent, in your opinion.

“It’s okay.” Mila replies sweetly, pressing a little kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want to marry any boys anyway. Mummy reminded me how gross they are. You’re the only boy i love daddy.” She shrugs, smiling like the little angel she truly is. “Good. Now come here.” Andy pulls her back into his arms, turning to you to give you a wide eyed look and a mouthed “thank you!”

She wriggles from his arms after he attempted to press kisses all over her and runs off giggling to hide from him elsewhere in the house and probably look for her soft football; the only one that’s allowed indoors after you smashed a lamp with one of Andy’s footballs and both you and Mila agreed to tell him it was the dog who broke said lamp with the football.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Andy groans as he walks towards you, wrapping his arms right around you and he pressing his lips onto yours firmly. “Mhm, i think i bought you a few more months.” You giggle, your nose bumping against his as he laughs along with you. He groans again, burying his head in your shoulder as your hand gently scratches the nape of his neck comfortingly. “Wanna make another?” He mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder through your hoodie.

“Cheeky bastard,” you jab your thumb into his ribcage slightly, words spoken between gentle laughter as you shake your head. “Seriously though?” He retorts, pulling back a bit to rest both his hands on your waist. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he takes in your proximity and natural scent contently. “Let’s make another. We could try for a boy?”

“It doesn’t really work like that.” You giggle, eyes crinkling with your smile. Andy rolls his eyes playfully. “So?” He shrugs, pecking his lips against yours again, “You in?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips against him only broken by your smile. “Course i’m in and oi!” You swat at his wandering hand, dipping beneath the waistband of your leggings, “Not right this second you filthy man!”

Andy throws his head back with a loud, playful groan that’s broken up by his laughter when he heads you giggling before you press a gentle kiss to his exposed neck. “I love you.” You smile, watching his eyes sparkle as he turns his face back to you. “Yeah yeah yeah, i love you too.”

“Rude, daddy!” Mila chimes as she appears in the kitchen again, only having heard the end of he conversation.

“Sorry,” the scolded man retorts, immediately knowing the correction his daughter wants him to make to his prior words to you; “I love you more.”

Mila nods, smiling up at you clearly proud of her intervention for her very adored mother in the name of girl power, bumping her little fist against yours before she turns back to her dad, who wouldn’t change anything about this moment for the world, to give him a very tight lipped response.

“Much better daddy. Don’t let it happen again.”

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Bonnie

Preference Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Word count: 1727

Warnings: Reader going through a hard time, suggestive comments, swearing, Bonnie gets hurt (emotionally), not favourable descriptions of Small Heath (apologies to any Brummie readers- it’s for the plot)

Author's Note: Hi! I’ve had some trouble with the Ada and Finn preferences so I’m mixing up the order a bit. Those who’ve requested, your fics will be out soon! If there’s any other characters you want me to write for, feel free to make any more requests. Hope you enjoy and I’m wishing you all my best

(Gif by @sophieshelby) 

The Golds were travellers. It's what you loved the most about their life, the life that you jumped into in the greatest leap of faith that came with loving Bonnie. Now, whilst watching him ditch button-ups in favour of short vests, giving you full view of his lean arms attacking bags and people with so much strength was fun, it was the wind in your hair as you sat behind him on his horse, arms wrapped around his middle, it was huddling up in your shared bed in the caravan and arguing as to whether or not you could fit another ugly knitted blanket on top of the rest of them, and the maps you kept in a drawer that was slowly becoming more crosses than roads with all the places you've visited- it was that which made you love this life all the more. Plus, living with you Bonnie and his family (who had welcomed you with open arms the second Bonnie introduced you) created a second home, a home that lived on wheels and trotted down dirt paths. You knew that Bonnie getting his boxing licence would make the travelling come to a halt, and Small Heath would have to be home for as long as there was a job to be done and a reward to be reaped. And you were okay with that. You really were. Maybe there were a few tears as you hugged Esmerelda, Naomie and especially little Floss (she was desperate to see Bonnie go head to head with the Peaky Blinders!) goodbye as they continued travelling, you knew Bonnie felt the absence of his sisters more than you would. So, you made sure he never felt lonely, and the bed never felt empty; well, it wasn't as if it was a particularly difficult task to keep him company.

Small Heath was not a particularly enthralling place. Although you were on friendly terms with the Shelbys and their clan (and that was no exaggeration, they multiplied like rabbits!) and, after many, many threats from both the elder and younger Gold, none of the younger Peakys were planning on making a move on you, it was the place itself that seemed to bore you. All those things that you'd learned to love from your life on the road- the fresh air, the constant movement, the friendly welcomes when you saw another caravan cross your path, and the freshly caught food cooked over an open fire- there was none of that here. The sky was full of fumes that burnt more than the dark char of over-exposed meat, there was no patches of grass or flowers and everything was so fucking grey. Grey streets, grey sky, and a very grey mood for you. Sometimes, when Bonnie and Aberama were busy with the Peaky business that they left you out of, you'd just go over to the Cut and sit by the water to get even the slightest feeling of being back amongst the rivers and streams where you and Bonnie would set a number of ugly knitted blankets down and spend the night besides. You always thought the sound of water, and the view of the stars was the best way to fall asleep. Bonnie said the best way was next to you. You loved him, you truly did, but things were getting hard. Bonnie was always so busy now, between boxing and whatever the hell Tommy bloody Shelby had him apart of. Wrapped up next to him under all the blankets was the most time you spent with him, and he was usually so spent from work that he was snoring after seconds of laying his head on the pillow. All you could do was hope he didn't wake as you breathed softly next to him, trying to ward off sleep as much as you can just to see him as much as you can. By the time the sun rose, he was already up and at it. In stinking Small Heath.

You didn't want to resent him for bringing you here. You wanted to be proud of him when he boasted about getting his boxing license. You wanted to be happy for him when he came back, completely sloshed, after a night out at the Garrison with the Peaky boys he'd gotten close to, and he smelt like bloody whiskey and cigarettes when he cuddled up to you, drunkenly nuzzling his nose into your neck. You hated whiskey and cigarettes. Well, at least you think you did. You hated everything right now. You had tried to distract yourself from this frustration that was slowly building up in you, especially after you 'accidentally' broke one of the cups Naomie had made. You would pay for that when you saw her again. You had gotten Charlie Strong and Curly's permission to help with the horses in the stables. Eventually, though, you just felt sorry for the poor buggers: trapped in a scrap yard in a place full of people and so little greenery. Of course, you refused to admit you were projecting your own feelings on them. After feeling lonely for too long, you decided to make friends with the Shelbys. The Peaky boys that Bonnie had become fast friends with were nice enough, and Bonnie was happy for the excuse to see you more. As for the Shelbys, you had to be honest, they were a bit bloody scary. Esmerelda had made sure you were prepared for them, and you kept a whittling knife on your person every time you left the isolating sanctuary of the caravan, so you knew full well you could keep yourself safe amongst the blood and gore of the gangsters.

Eventually though these feelings caught up with you. You didn't even bother leaving the caravan today, knowing the streets were only going to further sour your mood and, even the bright presence of Bonnie's sleepy, half-awake smile, couldn't stop your erratic scrubbing of the plates. Ever since the Naoime's-broken-pottery-you were-sure-to-pay-for incident, you had only been entrusted with the metal pots and pans that weren't so easy to shatter. Still, you managed to scrub the metal dish in such a way to rouse the weary boxer. He had the day off, as Arthur had told you the night before when you sat in the Garrison, and the rest of the boys gave such a cheer their whiskey splattered on your dress. Bonnie had blushed, but you could see the hints of mischief in his smirk. And, with Aberama taking last night and today back in Small Heath, there was no misunderstanding Bonnie's intentions. You heard his stumbling foot steps as you moved further out of the open caravan door, focusing far too much on the washcloth and the practically sparkling pot that you still scrubbed.

"Hey, dove," he said in  sing-song tone that usually made your heart melt. Now it made your blood boil.

"Mornin' Bon," you replied back, far too snappy for his soft voice. 

He was startled. You didn't have to see his face to know he had flinched, feeling the sudden twinge of pain in the air like a broken string.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kindly, reaching down to rest his hand over yours. Instantly, you dropped the pan and cloth on the floor, hearing it crash against the soft grass.

"Well, you'd know if you'd have been there!" Along with your swift movement to stand up, the fierceness in your voice made Bonnie back away into the caravan. He saw the frustration clear in your face, and his shoulders hung in shame. He knew he'd been busy- too busy- and it must've hurt you.

"I'm so sorry, dove, I swear I'm trying to do this for us." 

"For you! And all I fucking do is stay in this fucking city!"

"It's not for long- then we can have that life we planned, with the boxing licence and our own caravan and-"

"And I don't wanna be here!"

You screamed it so loud that you were sure the birds in the trees surrounding you had flapped away from your voice like a shot had been fired from one of the Golds' many, many guns. And Bonnie seemed like he wanted to flee too, face so smushed up and hurt.

"I hate this place! It's dirty and cold and it smells like fucking shit!" 

Bonnie felt his whole body crumble at the tightness in your face, the look of pure anger making your fists squeeze in so tight he knew your nails would be digging in. He was the boxer and it was of his opinion that you should never have to raise a fist like this. You must hate him. You must do, and he was feeling his broad shoulders dip at the wildness that flickered in your eyes.

"I don't want to be here!" It was the crack in your voice that revealed yourself. A crack that mended Bonnie's wounded expression into that of concern. You didn't hate him. You didn't. You probably didn't even mind stinking old Small Heath. 

"Then how about we get outta here?" He suggested, giving you that lopsided grin that always made you childishly giddy. Even now, with frustration embedding your palms, you felt a kinder warmth flood to your cheeks. With more confidence, he moved towards you, cupping your cheek as you felt yourself just drop a little without the weight of frustration on your shoulders.

"Please," you muttered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against yours. "I want fresh air and empty fields and a blanket next to a stream."

"Just you and me lying down and looking at the stars?"

"That's all, Bon."

"Then you'll get it. Let's get changed, pack some food and we can get on a horse and just keep on riding, ey?" You chuckled a little at his romantic proposition, burying yourself closing into his grasp. "And get out of smelly old Small Heath that's been keeping me away from my dove."

"You're gonna have a lot of time to make up for." A little bit of frustration still hung in your mind, but the sweet look of adoration on your Bonnie's face was enough to soothe it into a cheeky remark.

"Indeed I do," he whispered into your neck. His expression got sadder again. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

[discotechque]

till my hand shook with the way I fear

pairing: abed nadir/nby! reader word count: 1.6k rating: T

me and abed have neurodivergent solidarity and for that, we would be besties. also the mc in this is specifically non-binary so whatever.

There's clear haze that settles over the bar, that's the first thing Abed realizes once he settles into the space. It's dim, like most bars are and he assumes that's the charm of places like these. Jeff and Britta are adults ( he is too but he's overlooked and therefore his opinion is mute ) so he follows their guidance. Watching from afar, observing their inebriated choices while downing another shot.

He doesn’t get the point of alcohol, much less bars, and it seems the whole point is to get pleasure after an initial sting. A sharp weight that lays in the back of one's throat before elation rips through you. Bourbon burns through him with too much consequence, gin coats his mouth with a bitter tang, and wine falls flat on his tongue.

Maybe it's his upbringing, he's never witnessed his father take a sip to this day, or the pressure that rushes to his frame when he's offered a drink. Abed understands the appeal of bars, it does not mean he shares the same sentiments to them. They're noisy little backend places where melancholic characters come to waste away their sorrows, typically finding pathetic people who drool over glass rims.

However, he is not pathetic ( even if his oldest friend is rounding his seventies and community college all seemed like a folly ) and he had never been overtly dripping with melancholy. So he stood by the small arcade game in the corner, unbothered and safe, until someone offered kindness.

And he takes miles of that even if all they've given was an inch because even if he isn't pathetic or melancholic, he is greedy. He likes eyes being on him because he has so many thought he wants to share with one mouth that can only do so much. Abed is not dumb, he knows what the man wants and how his friendly touches are slowly rising above his knee.

He knows what the man wants and isn't surprise at his outburst once learning that the feelings isn't reciprocated. There's streams of Mint Julep dripping from his jaw and lashes, softly mumbling about his love for Farscape before having it degraded. Abed knows he deserves it and was warned by Annie that people are sensitive ( but he is not held by the bounds of common decency or empathy no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. )

Then, he remembers the man's proposition ( the only reason someone would be interested in him ). He isn't familiar with being viewed as a sexual object and men weren't unwelcome in his eyes. Gay? Is he gay? Maybe something that exists within the unorthodox box that is sexual realization? The questions sound so foreign even within the echo chamber of his mind.

He's in a dingy bar celebrating his best friend's birthday, this is not a time for the sexual exploration of his subconscious ( although he saves the thought because he considers if not now then when ). The drink is seeping within his clothes, it's going to stick if he doesn't move. He needs to fucking move.

And he does, swiftly pulling himself away from the chair and heading towards the bathroom. Wherever that is, Shirley said it was in the far back and Annie said fair left. Yet, she meticulous as ever so what if she always assume her left is everyone's true left and Shirley is vague with her directions but it doesn't even seem to be enjoying her time here at all.

He's not enjoying it either if he's honest. His loose shit now sticks to his chest and he knows it would make sopping sounds if the man's glass was any larger. Jeff brought them here to celebrate because they're all adults and Troy deserves to have a birthday party in style but if all Jeff and Britta do it bicker, doesn't that make them children themselves? And if he shares his companionship with them, does that make him and all the others children by association?

He's going nowhere with this train of though, this he knows but it can't ever seem to stop. His brain becomes a leaky faucet that can never be screwed back just right so it drips and drips just like the alcohol does along his jaw and lashes. Abed wants to go home but he's with his friends and it's his best friend's party and it'd be so rude of him to leave so soon. At least, that's what Annie tells him.

( Parties were far and few between when he was younger and even then, he cannot replace family functions for beings that truly care for him. )

But then he remembers you, nursing an iced tea in the corner because you are not interested in bestowing wisdom onto Troy that you do not have or participating in anybody's shenanigans. Bars are where people come to hook up or fuck up, you proclaimed on the car ride here, there's no in between.

Then he hears it, bursting against his ears as a smile splits across your face, a discotheque pop song that might be pleasant if it wasn't so overwhelming. His hand involuntarily taps against his thigh in tune with the rhythm. It helps sort out the sensations, the noise is different than the bland flavoring of water, and he knows what's what but it all feels the same in his mind.

Abed's eyelids shut, another involuntary tick he can never seem to shake, and his hand has created it's own beat. Rapid and rushed with no real rhyme or reason except for the fact that it's something that will tug his mind away from everything. ( It's the same thing he does when he's at the edge of a rollercoaster, it makes him safe. ) If everyone else can sway to a rhythm, why can't he?

"Hey," an unexpected voice softly call out to him ( tenderness within this group almost borders on unnatural ). Abed slowly opens his eyes to see you, you call out to him. He feels his hands move away from his pants, tangled within your fingers instead as you gaze at him with earnest. "five things you can see?"

Your hands feel polished, no—plush. He's afraid that if his thumbs press too hard, he'll begin to meld into your being. That's a great idea for a movie, he thinks and he knows you've been his muse from time to time. Maybe it means something, he's not willing to deep any deeper.

His eyes scan the room for a brief second before he rattles off, "The wooden floors, the bartender, the door, the chair behind you, and Annie still trying to be a Texan."

Her accent still lingers within her mind, poor acting for someone so involved a role they've assigned for themselves. The though nearly amuses him but he's getting off track, he needs to focus on you. On the way your hands gently rub over his knuckles and needs to ignore this growing pit within his stomach on whatever that insinuates.

"Four things you can feel?"

"My feet against my shoes, my jeans against my legs, how hot my ears are, your hands."

You don't let go even after he's mentioned it, instead he receives a squeeze that sounds throughout his body. A continuous cycle the runs on until you ask him for something he can taste, he doesn't know what lingers within the crevices of his mouth. ( He'd want it to be you and licks his lips without a second thought. ) Yet, settles on the answer Mint Julep.

Something about thinking this way must be wrong, he shouldn't want to keep holding your fingers or gaze into your fervent irises. He shouldn't be attracted to someone like you and shouldn't be searching for so many reason on why he has to tear himself away from your presence. Still, shouldn't doesn't stop him from doing so.

Maybe his hands have melted into yours, it'd be a good excuse on why he can't bring himself to let go. The song changes again, how long has he been in this small little world with you?

"Hey, it's Mazzy Star, this fucks so hard." he's heard of this before, maybe you've shared it with him. It's less grating on his ears, smooth melodies being shifted on strings, and he watches you sway from the corner of his eye.

( He likes to be watched but something about you commands all his attention. )

Still shifting from foot to foot, you turn to him with a far more lax expression. Both shifting into familiarity as you ask, "You wanna sit down?"

"Not really," he shoots back suddenly but you're not perturbed at his fast response reflex. However, his heart sinks as the next words tumble from his lips. "but we can stand here and sway?"

You don't pull your hand away from his, instead, pressing into his fingers as you ponder a reply. Perhaps you think this isn't real as much as he presumes you'll humiliate him for even asking. But you don't and another smile splits down your features, large than the last one he saw from across the room.

"Of course, Abed Nadir has a genius idea. Let's do it."

You don't move him from this space you've cultivated with him. Instead, wrapping arms around his neck as he places them on your waist ( he never went to prom but this is better than any teenage fantasy ). Moving side to side, never shifting around in a circle but rather awkwardly figuring out a steady pace while his stares becoming fonder while the night grows.

Abed still doesn't get the point of bars but he can figure it out the next time he's here with you.

[acciofanfics]

Miss You (Harry Potter x Reader) SMUT

Request:

Pairing: Harry Potter x FemReader

Warnings: SMUT (poorly written but still)

A/N: So I put these two together! Hopefully that’s okay! I will warn you I had a little trouble with this? Idk I’ve been struggling a bit with smut lately, so bear with me. Anyways there’s not a lot of plot here, just smut 😜 -S

———————————————————————

There was nothing particularly special about today. No anniversary or birthday or good news to share, but still (Y/N) had some plans for tonight. She’d been bored all day and Harry was working late so it seemed only appropriate to focus her energy on him. “Well hello there!... I know it’s not my birthday and it isn’t yours... and it’s not our anniversary... if you’ll tell me what I forgot I swear to you I will do everything in my power to make it up to you! I’m so sorry!”

(Y/N) laughed as his surprise turned to distress. She supposed she could’ve given him a little bit of warning, but honestly it had been a spur of the moment decision that she’d say to hell with all the shopping and instead decided to light some candles and slip into to something that Harry liked (mostly because it was barely anything). “You didn’t forget anything, I just wanted to surprise you, because I missed you today.”

Harry’s relief was quite visible as his body relaxed at her words. It’d been a rough week at work and definitely not his intention to leave (Y/N) alone for the weekend. He would’ve been absolutely devastated to find that she went to all this trouble for him and he didn’t remember what it was for. He eagerly joined her on their shared bed when she patted the spot beside her. “Consider me surprised.”

“Good.” (Y/N) scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. It was an act that was innocent enough, but her hands snaked around him and began to unfasten his work attire. “How was your day?”

Harry stealthily kicked off his shoes, and smiled at her pretending to be unaware of her attempted teasing. (Y/N) liked to do that. She’d be so nonchalant, asking completely normal questions all the while undressing him or herself knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but her. He’d play along though, “Terribly long, I missed you too.”

“I missed you a lot more though, all day I thought about how much I wished you were home.” Harry shuddered at her words, partly because he knew what she was insinuating and partly because they were a whisper against his ear, “I got all dressed up for you and everything. Do you like it?”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to do anything but nod and shrug off the shirt (Y/N) had loosened. He reached for the button of his trousers, but stopped when she grabbed his hand. Merlin bless her. Somehow (Y/N) always knew how to make him feel better, and when he was stressed out or overworked there was nothing Harry enjoyed more than relinquishing any type of control and just focusing on what she told him to do. “I think you should use your words if you wanna take those off.”

“I love it. You look so gorgeous.” He praised truthfully and excitedly continued to undress when she smiled and let his hand go. (Y/N) grinned at Harry sitting there in his boxers. She abandoned his side and instead threw her leg over his and plopped herself down in his lap.

Her lips connected with his and Harry could feel the stress from the day slowly melting away from him. Harry let out a noise most described as a whimper as when she pressed herself further down onto him. (Y/N)’s mouth abandoned his lips and instead found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. There’d surely be a mark later, but there wasn’t a reason to care. All Harry could focus on was her, “Can I please touch you?”

“Since you asked nicely... okay.” She smirked against his skin and instantaneously his hands found hers. He grabbed hold of her thighs desperately grinding her onto him, creating a euphoric friction that earned more than a few groans from both of them. His right hand moved from her thigh to her shoulder where the flimsy strap of her nightgown was quite easily pushed to the side and then to the other where he mimicked the action exposing her chest.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Harry asked in genuine admiration.

(Y/N) chuckled, she gave him a sweet smile before gently pushing him back onto their bed falling with him. “It helps that you were the chosen one.” She joked and kissed him again. Harry groaned when she pulled away again a few minutes later, but changed his tune when he realized it was only to rid them both of the both of the remnants of their clothes.

She climbed back on top of him, deliberately and teasingly rubbing her slick folds against his now throbbing cock. Harry knew that she wanted and that was to know that he wanted her. And Harry had no problem letting her know, “I don’t know how much more I can take. You’re killing me (Y/N)...”

(Y/N)’s intentions had been to tease a little more, but she wasn’t quite sure how much more she could handle herself. She twisted her hips a little bit and sank down onto him, a moan erupting from both of their throats. She took a moment to simply enjoy the feeling of being completely filled up by the man beneath her. Harry’s fingers dug into her skin instinctively and he squirmed a bit underneath her. She just felt so good... he needed her to move.

Harry was more than thankful she seemed to be capable of reading his mind. When she lifted her hips and lowered herself back onto him, he let out a pleased grunt that was encouragement enough to keep her going. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open, but he tried because he was quite enjoying the view. Watching (Y/N)’s breasts bounce with each rise in fall of her hips was pleasurable all in itself to Harry, the fact that she was riding him just adding to the rapturous experience. His palms grabbed hold of her hips loosely guiding her, but more or less just holding her. She was far too good at this in his opinions to need his help and really he felt helpless himself as he was at complete mercy of the girl above him.

He gave her a quick warning of how close he was and (Y/N) took that as a message to quick her up and down ministrations and instead focused on just rocking her hips back and forth, both reveling in the friction. Harry felt her tense around him and he lost in. Buried deep inside of her he let loose, murmuring praises of her and listening to her lose herself as well.

(Y/N) collapsed on top of him, sweaty but content. “I really did miss you today.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh, exhausted from sheer ecstasy. He kissed the top of her head as their breathing started to steady, “I missed you too.”

[toastwithjelly]

FEEL SOMETHING

(A Sanders sides Angst one-shot fic)

Part 1

4,391 words

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

Razor blades

Self harm

Gore

Numbness

Logan angst

Confrontation on self harm suspicions

Summary:

Logan is tired of being the cold, emotionless robot that everyone perceives him as. He’s repressed his emotions to such a great extent that he genuinely doesn’t feel anything major anymore. He does have his nightly break-downs sometimes, but he needs more than that.

However, this is where roads begin to cross. Logan feels that it would be nice and beneficial to experience strong emotions, but he doesn’t know if this feeling is stronger than his fear of expressing such things. Being viewed as a joke and not being taken seriously is his worst nightmare. Because of this, the logical side just keeps up his stone cold front to avoid being weak.

This dilemma Logan had found himself in really frustrated him. No matter how hard he tried to think of a solution, nothing ever satisfied both ends of the spectrum. The best he had come up with was to keep up the front when he was with the others and then let himself break down at night when no one was around, and even that didn’t help him nearly as much as he wished. This eventually led him to looking for answers online. One search led to another, and Logan has figured out something that might help him. It’s a bit risky, and he’ll have to hide it from the others, but he knows how to be safe with it, so he’ll give it a shot just to feel something.

•———————————————————————-•

Part 1

6:34pm

 Logan was sitting at the dinner table with his three friends as they ate their meal. Nothing unusual about the evening, they had their casual little chats and the occasional playful banter from Roman and Virgil, with Patton butting in every so often. Logan kept his focus all on the plate of food in front of him. The paternal figure had worked hard to make this, he wasn’t going to let it get cold. Plus even if he wanted to join the conversation, he wouldn’t even know what to say. Sure he was the logical side and he had a heap of facts to spit but when it comes to the jovial friendly conversations the others usually shared. He truly couldn’t find the words to contribute something meaningful into the atmosphere, so other than correcting a false statement, he kept silent.

“Now Virgil, I’m just saying that a kid would be much more excited to watch a movie like Alice in wonderland and we all know it!” Roman exclaimed to the emo sitting across the table from him. It’s not at all surprising that the current conversation taking place was one about Disney. Especially when it was Virgil and Roman who were the ones bickering. “I mean all the bright colors and such a classic story is bound to win a kid over!”

“Uhuh sure, like kids would want to watch a film about a bunch of mentally ill people on an acid trip. Plus, the queen of hearts is scary for them,” Virgil retorts, glaring at Roman before taking a bite of his food. “The princess and the frog is clearly a superior movie. It’s about an independent hard working woman who doesn’t need a man to help her achieve her goals, like are you kidding me? And she helps him out, that is a nice change for once.”

“Yea I cannot argue with that, we stan Tiana,” Roman admits, leaning back in his chair. Logan was about to question the prince about the term he just used, but decided against it, keeping quiet.

“But the shadow man is scary!” Roman continues.

“Uh, no. ’I’ve got friends on the other side’ is such a bop. But I am one of the friends on the other side,” Virgil pulls his signature 2000’s MySpace emo face. ‘Bop’. Logan remembers what that meant. He had to ask Roman about it later to make a vocabulary card.

“Oh my god can you get any edgier?” Roman asks the snickering Virgil across the table as he rolls his eyes and goes back to his food. The only thing Logan could think of at this time is how useless that conversation was. Their frivolous arguments had no solid points or evidence to back up their argument if they were trying to persuade the other. He chose not to say anything so as to not further encourage them. Instead he had just yet again kept quiet and his focus was on finishing his food so he could retire to his room.

“So Logan, are you almost finished with your work?” Logan’s head snapped up when the mention of his name came from Patton. ‘Work.. it was always work.’

“No, Patton. There are still a few tasks to be completed that need to be completed tonight,” Logan states, adding on that last bit so hopefully he isn’t bugged with having a ‘family night’ as Patton and the others like to call it. Which, it doesn’t make any sense considering the fact that none of us are actually related.

“Well, once you are done with that, do you wanna come watch a movie with us!?” The parental side excitedly asks. Logan internally cringed at Patton’s use of grammar, but more at his failed attempts at getting out of this without having to ask. It’s not that Logan didn’t like the others, it’s just that tonight specifically he wanted to be left alone. Sometimes spending time with them is considered a good thing to him because he knows that he needs to take breaks from his work sometimes and Patton gives him an excuse to do so. Also, knowing that Patton wants him there helps him feel less like a robot, but that feeling quickly returns when they don’t even care to ask him his opinions for the movie choice.

“Oh.. that’s ok! There’s always next time, right?” Patton sounded a little disappointed, but supportive nonetheless. “Well I wish you good luck with that, Logan!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan finishes the conversation while turning his attention back towards his almost empty plate.

The rest of the dinner went by as normal. They all took their dishes to the sink and Patton offered to help Roman complete the dishes and Virgil retired to his room for the night. Logan says his goodnights and follows suit to his own room.

After entering, Logan lightly shut his door and pressed his back against the cool wood. The lights were still off, so he sat in the inky black dark atmosphere staring at the ceiling in order to prevent the dark curtain draped over the contents of his room from playing tricks on his eyes. He didn’t bother finding the light switch; he felt it was unnecessary. It would only illuminate everything that reminded him of everything that burdens him. He hates not knowing.

The logical side leaned his head back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut, the blankness of the dark and the silence began to be too much for him; it made him feel too alone. With no senses available, you are left with nothing but your own thoughts to drown in. Nothing to do but to fall down that hole of endless thinking. Logan’s head swarmed with every emotion he was feeling at once. Every fact he wished wasn’t true danced behind his eyes and pounded on his skull demanding his attention.

Logan couldn’t help but let the tears run down his cheeks. They started rolling faster and he held his hand over his mouth, choking back a sob. He hated doing this, but he had to if he wanted to remain sane. He just felt so vulnerable and embarrassed. Logan felt his legs begin to shake so he slid down the door to sit on the floor. God he hopes no one comes to his room.

The logical side stayed on the floor like that for a while. He didn’t know how long, but he was surprised when he looked at his phone to find he had been there for almost thirty minutes. Once the crying had for the most part stopped and Logan realized that it didn’t really help at all, he decided to get up from his spot on the floor and turn on some lights. He had reached for the plug connected to fairy lights strung around his room and plugged it into the electrical socket, illuminating the whole space with a soft Caramel colored glow. The lights were a gift from Patton last Christmas, the parental figure had gotten some for everyone in the house. At first the logical side thought they were childish and impractical due to him already having a light in his room, but Patton persisted so he put them up and once he saw how they casted a honey coating to all the contents of his bedroom and how the atmosphere instantly shifted from sharp to calming and gentle, he decided that they weren’t that bad.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Logan walked into the bathroom that he has in his room and shut the door after turning on the light. The sudden contrast of the soft light of his room to the harsh light of the bathroom only worsened his growing headache so the first thing he did was retrieve the Ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and swallow two. After that he took his glasses off and placed them on the side of the sink before proceeding to wash his face of tears with warm water from the faucet. After he patted his face dry with a towel, he took a minute to just look into the mirror. He took notice of his cold, dead eyes that were a navy blue, but despite being such a bright color, his eyes looked more dull and grey. ‘No wonder the others think I’m a metaphorical robot.” He thinks to himself. He decides not to stay there any longer or else Remus might hear him drowning in his thoughts and show up so he grabbed his glasses and started back towards his room.

Logan didn’t know what to do now. He’s already cried a bunch but that didn’t help. He just sat on the edge of his bed trying to figure things out. The laptop sitting closed and still in his desk caught his eye. ‘There may be an article on the internet explaining my situation.’ The logical side thought to himself before he got up and made his way towards his desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down. While he opened the device up and typed in his password, he thought about what he was going to type into the search bar. While the Google page displayed on his screen awaiting his questions, Logan’s fingers moved to type in the first one that came to mind; ‘How to feel when you are numb?’

Once he pressed enter, he proceeded to scroll for what he was looking for. He passed a bunch of articles about physical health and stuff like that. ‘Perhaps I worded it incorrectly?’ He thought to himself before seeing something that could potentially be what he was looking for. It was a link to a twitter post. It was titled ‘I don’t feel anything. I do this to feel something,’ and Logan thought that would suffice nicely to his needs. Though, the side wasn’t prepared for what he was going to see when he clicked it. Blood. Lots of blood. Cuts all up and down the poster’s forearm that could be recognized as dermis and epidermis level cuts. And finally, a bloodied double edge razor blade sitting calmly in a warm crimson pool on the counter top.

Logan gasped upon the image displayed in front of him. It wasn’t too intense but seeing a part of the human body all cut up didn’t make him feel too comfortable, but he was slightly intrigued. He was kind of confused why the gorey photo was related to what he was looking for so he decided to look into it further; only because the text part of the post seemed to relate a little to his state of mind.

The logical side scrolled down past a few more photos of the same cuts just at different angles. He kept observing the images while trying to think of where to go from here until he decided to use the tags the original poster had provided with the text to research further. He viewed 10 or so hashtags of random things to figure out what the point of this was. Some of them just confused the side, but one of the words he recognized from an article he read a few months ago when Roman fell into a deep depression and he tried to gather as much information as he could to help him because the others were worried and terrified for him. However, he never had to use much information because they had luckily gotten him out of that mental health decline before anything terrible happened. Well, at least to his knowledge. The tag in question reads as ‘self harm’. Now Logan felt a little stupid because he knew what this was before, but a little clarification never hurt anyone.

He had to admit, he was a little taken aback by the fact that what he was experiencing was linked and related to self harm but he decided to explore more under that subject to further understand it. When he clicked on the tag, he was exposed to pages and pages of self harm. He stopped at one particularly disturbing one. It was a video of a girl with a straight razor that resembled that of what a barber would use. In the video, she had pressed as hard as she could and with one clean swipe, the fat inside her arm was exposed. By this point, Logan was feeling a little sick to his stomach on account of what was displayed in front of him. The video however kept going. The girl dabbed the open wound with a white towel, so the amount of blood that was being soaked up was very visible. The girl picked the weapon up again and placed it in the center of the cut and proceeded to apply pressure while she dragged the blade along her arm at a painfully slow speed. When the pool of blood was soaked up, fascia was exposed and Logan really wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He vaguely understood the premise behind self harming, but witnessing it to this extent kind of confused and scared him.

Luckily the video stopped there and Logan closed it out and continued to scroll through the page. He did not find much there other than the pictures and videos of people cutting themselves and he was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, almost like what he felt when he was under the effects of Virgil’s room; and for that reason he decided to close out this tab and search elsewhere. The logical side really didn’t know why he was so intrigued to this certain coping mechanism. He knew it was very unhealthy, but he couldn’t let it go.

After a few google searches about the topic of self harm and a few articles later, Logan found one specific body of text that piqued his interest. It was basically describing the effects self harming has on the brain and why so many people do it and says it helps. He read through it and the information he gathered was rather interesting to him. Basically, the context of the article was explaining the science behind why self harming was addictive and why some people do it in the first place.

‘So, cutting myself will release neurochemicals in my brain that mimics that of dopamine? Fascinating..’ Logan thinks to himself. The side takes a minute to think it through. Was he actually considering this? I mean, there is scientific evidence that proves that doing this will help him. Logan ponders a bit on that last point, basically pushing him to do it. He just resorts to searching for reasons not to go through with it at this point. Only two reasons came to his mind when he tried to think up reasons to push the thoughts out of his head. The first was the safety aspect of it. Of course when you are cutting yourself there are things that can go wrong; however Logan felt confident enough that he knew how to do this safely. He knew where the vital points were on the human body so he knew where it was safe to cut as well as how deep to go. He also knew how to properly dress the wounds and how to take care of them so they didn’t get infected so the logical side could figuratively throw that worry out the window.

The only factor that was left in play affecting Logan’s decision in going through with this is the guilt he would have to face if the others found out. With Patton having gone through a situation similar to this when Roman was having severe mental health issues and when Virgil ducked out, Logan would figuratively (and almost literally) have the blood on his hands just adding it to the list. He knows that Patton always tries his hardest to do things that make everyone as happy as they can be, and oh the lengths he would go to do that. Let’s just say that the parental side has had many sleepless nights on account of helping someone else. But surely if Patton had ever found out about all the things Logan hasn’t told him, it would make him feel like he hasn’t been enough for people even more than he already does, even and who knows what could happen to him when that happens and he lives knowing that three of his friends have been struggling.

Logan had to ponder on this one for a minute. But with him being logic and all, he brought up the point that the way Patton was thinking about things is untrue and if he had to, Logan with a little of Virgil’s help could sit down with him and possibly explain things in order to pull him from that mindset.

He quietly hummed to himself, feeling accomplished at finding a solution. This satisfied feeling quickly deteriorated as confusion began to spill. Why was he feeling this way about something so grim? Why was he so compelled to stand up to get that spare razor that lay waiting in the bathroom cupboard? He thought it was even irrational to consider doing such things but it just felt like something that could actually help him, and he needed it.

He didn’t know what made him do it, but something in him made him push himself out of his desk chair to shut his laptop without powering it off and making his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he quietly closed the bathroom door. He opened the door of the shadow box, but for some reason it felt super slow like in a dramatic movie. He didn’t know why his hands were shaky when he spotted the razor and went to gently pick it up.

Just then as he examined the weapon in his grip, he felt the adrenaline pumping. It all just set in. Oh my god he was actually going to do this. He was just moments away from his destination. He gulped down a nervous lump in his throat as he examined the perfectly new blade for any rust. The side didn’t understand why he was so nervous; he knew how to do this safely so why was he so scared? Maybe he’s afraid of the pain

Logan however quickly dismissed this thought so that it doesn’t chase him out of a decision. I mean he would only seem MORE weak if he pulled such a pansy move. It shouldn’t be too bad.

He started by washing the blade and his forearm with warm water just as a precaution. He shakily held the blade horizontally over his wrist. Deep breath in and-

Slice

He ran the blade across his skin and then exhaled the breath he was holding. He sort of relaxed when he realized that it wasn’t that bad and that he was ok. Still, he checked the damage. It was a cut on the epidermis layer of the skin so nothing bad. Even so, he watches the blood bead along the clean line in fascination. It started to drip a little but that was caught with the towel that Logan pulled off the towel rack. He gently pressed the cloth to the cut and when he pulled it back, he closely watched as blood refilled the small wound. He was satisfied with his work and for some reason, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He wanted more.

So that’s what he did; the side made a few more clean lines parallel to the first one he made. He would stop to just watch the blood, then soak it up before watching how it refills again. Logan found himself admiring his arm from all angles, wearing these cuts like some sort of sick and twisted accessory. Logan continued to leave a few more little cuts, holding his arm over the sink to not make so much mess with blood (and to not ruin his favorite button up shirt).

The logical side went for one more and pressed a bit harder this time. When he swiped the blade, white was exposed before blood started to seep out from the edges of this deeper and wider cut. Actually being able to see the inside of his arm like that kind of scared him. He recognized this as the dermis level of skin. It made him a bit uneasy how he could turn his arm sideways and see the cut gape a bit, but he couldn’t stop looking at it. He thought if Remus was here, he would have said it looked like a mouth.

After that tiny scare of going deeper, he decided he was done with this for the night, afraid of going farther than he already has. As he started cleaning the blood from his arm and his sink, he was thinking over his success rates with this exercise. He had come to the conclusion that this had done what he wanted it to for him. He smiled to himself as he looked at the fresh cuts. The smaller and thin ones have already dried and scabbed over, but the deeper one he had just done was still filling with blood after each time he soaked it up, but it was slowing down. He doesn't know if he smiled because the treatment worked or if he was just proud of what he had done, but to him it just matters that he got a smile out of it. Once all the blood was cleaned up, he opened the shadow box again to retrieve the bandages. Carefully, he wrapped his arm in a secure bandage and put the rest away. The pressure of the cloth being wrapped tightly around his arm felt oddly nice and contrasted with the burning sensation on his skin from the contact.

The side stops moving and stands perfectly still when he feels a presence in his room. His heart dropped out of fear in realizing that this is the worst time to be here for obvious reasons. He slowly reaches for the doorknob of the bathroom and turns it, trying to prepare himself for whatever is about to happen. When the door was opened, it revealed Remus sitting on Logan’s bed just looking around.

“R-Remus, what are you doing here?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be. He wasn’t sure if the cause was from what he just did in the bathroom or the fear he had from another side possibly knowing.

Remus’s gaze shifted towards the nerd and the bandage on his arm. “Well, as I am Thomas’s own intrusive thot,” he stopped for a second to giggle at his play on words, “I can sense unwanted thoughts from any other part of Thomas,” he got up from his spot on Logan’s bed to walk towards him.

“I was picking up something from you, not like the normal. I had some suspicions and came to investigate but it seems as if I was right,”

“I.. I’m not sure I know what you are referring to,” he lied. Logan thought it was eerie to hear Remus talk in this more serious manner.

“Yea, no we both know that is a big lie,” Remus slightly smirked at Logan for the fact that he was right and gestured to Logan’s bandaged arm. Logan just avoided the other side’s eyes and held his arm behind his back. This and Logan’s uncomfortable silence confirmed it to Remus and he was no longer smiling, he had a look of empathy and slight hurt on his face. He was also sort of mad at the others because he feels and sees what Logan goes through with them and he thinks he can understand why Logan would resort to self harm.

“Logan, do you need to talk about it?” He asked. Logan has talked to Remus about his situation before, but he didn’t want to talk about this. He just brushed past Remus to go lay his pajamas out on the bed to get changed for the night. “No, I do not wish to speak of this and I ask you to kindly not mention this to anyone else, but thank you for your concern,” he never turned around to look at the other once. Remus just stood there with a slight frown. He then got an idea on what to do and he sunk out without saying anything else.

Logan could feel when the intrusive side left the room and released the breath he was holding in relief. He felt guilt wash over him in the moment. He really disliked lying to one of his closest friends but it was for the best. It was way too early for him to be able to tell anybody- scratch that. He didn’t want to tell anyone at all. He just hoped that Remus would listen and not tell anybody. The logical side thought of what he would do if that were to happen as he changed his clothes to something more comfortable.

He stopped before getting into bed to ponder if he should leave his fairy lights on while he slept. They were left on as he climbed under the cover to keep the atmosphere soft.

The logical side found himself holding his bandaged arm up above his face to admire it. He didn’t know what it was, but knowing what he'd done gave him tiny butterflies of adrenaline in his stomach which led him to a small smile. Logan was never an artist of any medium, but those crimson lines that stain his forearm felt like an art piece to him. It made him feel accomplished and.. happy. And with that, the side brought his arm back under the covers and closed his eyes to be consumed by sleep with a smile on his face.

•———————————————————————-•

Hope you enjoyed this first part :)

Yea a little background, sanders sides is such a comfort series for me, so I started writing this back when I was struggling a lot and I decided to keep writing this now so I hope you enjoy this bucket of angst haha

Part 2 will be linked here when it is up!

[nightswithkookmin]

G I R L

I just saw y the HYBE x Ithaca Holdings video and it really hit me with some realisations. HYBE partnering with them is bound to change some things in a huge way. Collabs and economics notwithstanding, Ithaca is home to NUMEROUS big name artists. I want to focus on the fact that: (1) Beiber is a heavily tattooed dude, I wonder if this fact will give some leeway for Kook to be a bit more free with his existing tatts or allow him to continue getting more. (2) Demi is an openly queer woman. This, along with how open Ithaca’s artists are with their support for the LGBTQ+ community, makes me wonder how it will influence HYBE artists who might be queer themselves (looking at Jikook 👀). I fully know that culturally Korea is its own thing and HYBE its own entity, but I think this might open up some doors for our boys both musically speaking as well as regarding their own selves. Dearest Goldy of mine, what do you think?

Hmmmmmmm

That's an interesting question.

I do agree that this provides a huge economic opportunity for BTS as a group and as investors in Hybe and for frankly anyone within Hybe labels- there's a lot of talents who would kill to be part of this company now. I just know it.

Hell I wanna be part of Hybe and I can't even sang. Lmho.

Cute, if you think I can dance. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

BigHit just got cooler you know.

But I think you are basically asking if this new acquisition will in effect impact the lifestyle of BTS, specifically Jikook as queer people in any way?

I'd say no- especially on the issue of tattoos. But I might be wrong. I just think it takes more than a business merger to undo a person's lifestlye and or socialization or even influence it.

Unless of course, this merger guarantees them certain universal rights and protections outside their culture and political system I don't see how it's to profit them as queer people in any major way.

Whatever impact I'd say is rather intangible.

If you know what I mean.

I've said a few times now how BTS by virtue of their presence in the international community, in my opinion, are socialized and are expected to be socialized a tad differently from the average regular conservative or even liberal S. Korean person with no external influences whatsoever on their socializations.

Your socialization informs your lifestyle.

Justin, Troye, RM and other artists have undoubtedly had and perhaps continue to have an influence on Jk musically and lifestyle wise, to some extent, but he has his own unique values and beliefs and morals that has been acquired and instilled in him through the years independent of these influences.

He is his own person afterall.

Plus did you see the arm sleeve on the director of the MV for Home? He is surrounded at the work place with people that are tatted too. It can't be just Justin B.

He saw a girl with tattoos and said that was something he'd love to have one day when he got of age and he got it- in spite of Suga's objection. He's always expressed interests in tattoos and wanting to become a tattoo artist.

He got these tattoos in spite of the inconveniences they pose to his expressions of self within his career and society- as tattoos are still pretty much stigmatized in S.K and aren't legally allowed on certain broadcasts within S. Korea. And he continues to add on them, draw over them etc way before this merger came into existence.

If he decides that's what he wants he will get them but it wouldn't be because Justin Bieber is heavily tatted or because his company expanded.

I'm not sure what you mean by leeway, but in a recent Run episode (the one with the famous chef) we saw his full arm out and I think that was the first time we had seen his tats on full display on run.

Contrastingly, he had his whole arm bandaged in the Let's BTS interview on KBS.

He covers his tattoos most times because of broadcast rules that prohibits (regulates) not just tattoos but alcohol consumption, cussing, nudity etc on public television that require specific ratings.

Merger or not he will still have to adhere to the laws of South Korea, including entertainment and media broadcasting laws and hide his tattoos as and where.

On the topic of queerness, I think now more than ever BTS would have to become socially, racially and culturally conscious and aware the instant this deal is concluded in May.

Ithaca has one of the most diversified group of artists under its belt- from Quavo who is black to Demi who is queer like you pointed out.

Now more than ever they are at the center of the global conversations we are having in our generation- from racism, to LBGTQ plus marginalizations, to all oppressions of minorities and minority groups.

And with that proximity comes a need to keep themselves in check now more so than ever- which include a check on the cultural appropriation bit, the queer baiting, drawing on queer aesthetics in their 'fan service' culture and other problematic issues that is characteristic of KPop.

What they do now matters more than ever- socially speaking of course.

When Jin started eating a lollipop JM gave him provocatively, JM asked him not to do that on camera but to reserve things like that for the group off camera.

If 'gay' is not gay but their 'culture' I think they know better to keep it to themselves off camera and act 'right' on camera- especially now.

I'm not about to stan a group that capitalizes on the trauma and oppression of me and my people in the name of entertainment. That's just tacky.

On the plus, I think it's great that they be surrounded by other queer folks in the business and be part of a community that welcomes and support queerness so they don't feel like they are the only ones.

That's not to say they aren't surrounded by queer people in their dialy lives.

I mean they have a large staff and I know damn well some of those staffers are queer as well- why wouldn't they be. Lol.

They've always had that 'supportive' environment to foster their relationship- well except for that one time a manager tried to bitch slap JK. Lol. Sorry.

It's not funny at all. Serious face.

They've always been free and loose in places outside Korea- Japan for one, to be themselves in certain 'controlled" areas of their lives.

I think if anything there's gonna be a focus on creating conducive and inclusive work environments and ethics for everyone not just queer people within the company at large.

I think Jikook can relate more, have certain essential conversations in the group, be exposed to and be part of the 'community' in a way that just felt so distant to them prior to the acquisition- in my opinion.

There is strength in numbers after all. Other than that those two companies might operate like night and day with a few eclipses in between.

The bigger question for me is how SK is going to react to Hybe as an international company from now on. No elite Korean company has openly admitted queer artists within their label. Such revelations presumably is bound to impact their social and economic standing...

Seems in acquiring Ithaca though Hybe have circumvented the conservative problem within Kpop and their culture as they have acquired openly queer artists.

Not that they care about an artist's sexuality. Bang have made it perfectly clear he prioritizes a person's talent over their sexual preference and thus hire artists based on their skills regardless of their sexuality.

But that is also not to say that the company wouldn't be met with harsh criticisms and suffer economic loss should they openly admit the sexuality of certain artists they work with.

I mean he did advise Jo Kwan on the risks he would be taking in going in the direction he wanted to go in with his heels schtick. So he is aware of the risks involved in going public with an artist's sexual orientation.

He talked about Korean companies playing it safe and not taking certain risks especially when it comes to deeds that are deemed 'rebellious' against the Korean conservative way.

-Watch and learn people, if you can't hire openly gay talents acquire their company. Problem solved. Lol.

From May, Hybe will technically officially become the first elite Korean company with openly queer artists under its labels that openly touches on and advocates for LGBTQ plus rights.

I'm waiting for Pride month with a cup of tea. Mu haha ha.

BTS has performed with queer artists in the past, dabbled in LGBTQ plus conversations which was mostly met with mixed reactions from the general public- some oblivious to who these artists were much less that they were queer. (Sis laugh with me. Hehe. If you know you know)

BigHit is gradually evolving the status quo.

It's an interesting development I must say, one I'm very much invested in at this point.

BigHit has always aimed beyond the borders of Korean commercial verse often straddling the line of conservatism, literally just became an international company within South Korea governed by both Korean and American laws that in all essence conflict with eachother morally and constitutionally.

Bang has some heavy balls I'll give him that.

Also, since this is an acquisition and not a merger I doubt if much will change in the structures of either company- the family photoshoots would be interesting to watch.

Imagine trying to get Arianna, Justin, BTS, TXT in one large studio for a photoshoot. I'm literally cackling. Lmho.

Scooter Braun will become part of the board of Hybe to manage the company and he is part owner of Hybe along with Justin, Ariana and BTS who also have shares in the company- until they decide to sell their shares that is.

That's about it.

I'm not sure how these Asian haters are gonna respond to an Asian company taking over 'America.' That's something to watch out for.

Then there's this whole issue of 'scandals' and both campanies view on it.

Western companies feed off chaos and drama and scandals, Kpop is the exact opposite.

Most of these Artists under Ithaca have had some pretty bad records and are prone to scandals and stuff like that. In case of an inevitable future scandal, the news would read 'BTS's so so and so.'

They are gonna make it all about BTS.

I mean when BigHit went public with their IPO and it went south it was all about BTS' 'failed IPO' in the news rather than the company it's self.

I have mixed feelings about this acquisition.

It's obvious BigHit is saving Justin Bieber's label. You don't sell unless you are in some huge financial decline blah blah.

Hybe is keeping them in business while building their own portfolio in the industry. BTS may not have a Grammy but Hybe has several artists with Grammys under it's belt now. Smirk.

The success of Justin, Ariana and all these artists are the success of Hybe which together with the powerhouse that is BTS gives Hybe more prestige- it's like watching the game of thrones but this time it's a bunch of nerds with chapsticks and Prada. Lmho.

At least now people will think twice before they peddle the 'they are not gay, it's their culture' nonsense.

Not sure if this answers your question?

I purple you💜💜💜💜💜

Signed,

GOLDY

[impala666]

The One With The Boobies Part Two (Ronnie)

I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me!!!!!!

Last Part (Part One), Series Masterlist 

Joey was very angry. Very very angry and confused and you could tell by how hard he was slicing into the mushrooms that he was preparing for all of you to have for dinner. At first you kept on trying to sneak away and hide in Joey’s room or leave the apartment because you thought that this conversation should be between Joey and his dad. But Joey had a different opinion, because every time that you actually got close to leaving, he would call out for you to stay. So now, there you were sitting uncomfortably at the counter, watching Joey cook, while his dad tried to explain himself to his only son. “Her name’s Ronni.” Joey’s dad decided to start off with what you hoped wasn’t an ice breaker, because that would have been the worst one ever. “She’s a pet mortician.” You narrowed your eyes in confusion at the odd job title. But you decided to put all of your uncomfortableness aside and try to get Joey to talk to his father. When Joey looked up, he saw that look on your face when you wanted him to do something or say something; eyebrows rose and head slightly tilted to the side. At first Joey rolled his eyes at you, but then decided that you were right. 

“Sure.” Joey played along. “So how long you been..?” But he just couldn’t bring himself to ask, his father was cheating on his mother for goodness sake. How was anyone supposed to react to that?

“Remember when you were a little kid and I used to take you to the Navy Yard?” Joey’s dad asked him, 

“Since then?” Joey’s face completely fell into sorrow as his voice rose high. 

“No. It’s only been six years. I just wanted to put a nice memory in your head so you’d know that I wasn’t always such a terrible guy.” Joey Sr. tried to make Joey feel better as his father came to stand next to you. But apparently anything that the man was going to say was going to make Joey feel any better. You just wished you could be there for him, right now. But he and his dad needed to work through this. So you would just be a helpful bystander. “Joe,” his dad placed his hand on Joey’s hand so that he would stop chopping and look up at him, “you ever been in love?” You looked from father to son with a smile on your face just knowing what he was about to say because Joey was. 

“I don’t know,” was all Joey answered. And you felt your smile fall into a deep frown, and losing all expression on your face. You felt frozen, numb. It made it worse when Joey’s dad looked at you, clearly not expecting that from his son either. 

“Then I guess you haven’t.” Joey’s dad told him trying to push past the awkward, but to you it felt like you were just smacked in the face. Then got your heart ripped out and stomped on. “You’re burning your tomatoes.” His dad changed the subject. 

“You’re one to talk.” Joey scoffed at his father.

“Okay, seriously?” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “You’re just going to gloss over that little bit there?” You asked staring at Joey’s back as he added.

“Look, Y/N, can we just talk about this later?” Joey hinted to you that he didn’t want to have this conversation with his dad in the room of all people. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. Whenever you want.” You sarcastically told him in a fake happy voice. But if you weren’t going to get an explanation, then you didn’t think you could be in the apartment. Whether your “boyfriend” needed you or not. “You two just finished your conversation and I’m just gonna head out. Sound good?” You hissed, looking up at Joey with a look that meant you were pissed off and hurt. Not being able to stand another second in the apartment, you quickly grabbed your jacket and quickly made your way to the door making sure to slam it behind you. So you wouldn’t hear Joey calling out your name, but of course he didn’t go after you. 

*******

You were acting like a teenager. You were supposed to go over to Monica and Rachel’s but you were scared to, you weren’t sure if you were ready to see Joey. But you guessed that you didn’t have to talk to him, plus you had run out of places to go. So you sucked in a deep breath and let it out as you grabbed on to the door handler of apartment 20 and made your way inside. “Hey,” Monica smiled to greet you, but it immediately fell when she saw your blood shot eyes and frown on your face. Clearly you had been crying. “You alright?” Monica asked, her voice filled with concern causing Ross, Rachel, Joey, and your brother to look over at you. But you made eye contact with Joey, and felt your heart break again. 

“I’m fine.” You spoke plainly not breaking your eye contact with Joey.  Clearly you were lying, but you clearly did not want to talk about it so everyone else just let it go. But Chandler kept looking between you and Joey, then he opened his arms for you as you walked over to him on the chair and quickly wrapped your arms around his waist. “What were you guys talking about before I got here?” You asked just to change the weird and sad energy in the room. 

“Oh, since Chandler saw my breasts then I get to see his PP.” Rachel smiled at you proudly.

“Oh, well. I’m glad we settle things around here like the adults that we are.” You joked as the rest of them nodded in agreement. The buzzer to the front door went, so Monica went to let whoever it was up. While everyone else was talking, Joey cautiously sat forward on his spot on the couch, and cautiously looked up at you as he held on to his jar of peanut butter. 

“Y/N/N, Y/N.” Joey called for you and you reluctantly looked down at him as you leaned against Chandler. “Can we talk for a second?”

“No,” was all you said before you got up and sat yourself in one of the chairs that was placed in front of the window just so you could sit by yourself for a little bit and stare out at the view. 

“It’s Phoebe!” Phoebe told Monica through the intercom.

“And Rog!” The man that Phoebe had been seeing also announced. 

“Come on up!” Monica told her, buzzing Phoebe in.

“Oh, good, Rog is here.” Chandler cheered sarcastically.

“What’s the matter with Rog?” Joey asked for everyone. 

“Oh nothing. Just a little thing. I hate that guy.” Chandler complained. 

“Come on. So he was a little analytical. It’s his job.” Ross told Chandler, just trying to defend the guy. But it turned out that Ross was about to be proven oh so wrong.

You weren’t sure why Ross was yelling at Phoebe’s new boyfriend, but you were distracted when you noticed Joey coming over and sitting in the chair next to you. “Are you ready to talk now?” Joey asked as he kept digging into his jar of peanut butter with just his finger. 

“I’ve been ready to talk,” you fired back quietly so that the others didn’t hear. “You don’t love me?” You asked him.

“I don’t know,” Joey shrugged. “I thought I did.” You couldn’t help the scoff that came out of your mouth. 

“Well, this isn’t something you think about Joey. You either do or you don’t, and you don’t which is fine. But why did you say that you did?” You asked, just needing to know why he kept telling you that he loved you if he really didn’t.

“Because I really did feel it at the time, plus I knew it was what you wanted to hear. But I guess I don’t anymore.” Joey shrugged. Joey felt his heart break as looked at you as you hid your face and felt tears rolling down your cheeks

“Yeah,” I guess you don’t,” your voice muffled as you bit onto your bottom lip to keep from sobbing.

“So are we still together? What do you wanna do?” Joey asked. You couldn’t even believe he was asking you that. What the hell was he thinking?

“No. No, we’re not. As much as I loved and for some reason still love you, yeah we are. We’re done.” You spoke your final words. Officially breaking up with Joey, as much as it broke your heart

“Hey, what’s going on?” Chandler asked with a friendly smile, which fell when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. He looked at Joey in confusion and a little bit of anger. “You okay?” Chandler put a hand on your shoulder and bent down to be face to face with you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. Chandler could tell you were lying, but you clearly didn’t want to talk about it. So he just decided to save it until the three of you got back across the hall. “Is Rog, the creep gone?” You asked since you had heard all of the offensive stuff that he said to Monica. 

“Yeah, he is. Come on guys, let's go home.” Chandler grabbed your hand and pulled you up and into his side as Joey got up and followed him with a solemn face. 

“Good night you guys.” Joey smiled a fake smile at Monica and Rachel, before the three of you went to make your way across the hall. Chandler was about to ask what was going on, but was a little distracted by the grown woman that was sitting at their door. 

“Oh, look. It’s the woman we ordered.” Chandler joked to the both of you, mostly trying to cheer you up. 

“Hey, can we help you?” Joey asked, as the woman looked up at you three as she munched on her snack. 

“Aw, no thanks. I’m just waiting for Joey Tribbiani.” The woman told you. Chandler and Joey looked at each other and shared a smile. 

“Um, I’m Joey Tribbiani.” Joey flashed her a polite smile as he gestured to himself. 

“Oh, no, not you.” The woman explained as she got up from the floor. “Big Joey. Oh, my god! You’re so much cuter than your pictures.” As the woman continued to talk to more frozen Joey’s face had become. “I’m Ronni. Cheese nip?” She offered him trying to soothe the tension. 

“Uh, Joey’s having an embolism, but I’d go for a nip.” Chandler smiled, trying to help her out and relieve the awkwardness as he reached forward and grabbed himself a cheese nip from Ronnie’s bag, as you couldn’t stop but looking at Joey’s face. You guess he was going to have an even worse night.

[flowervolcano]

It’s finally time I sat down and just wrote this whole thing so I can get it off my chest and maybe help flesh things out for the majority of the fanbase.

Black Widow Spoilers are upcoming, scroll past if ya don’t wanna be spoiled.

Let’s start with “Hello, I am a Tony Masters fan, I adore him and his personality and generally everything about him, of course I am going to be upset that his character suffered such poor writing and adaptation, because it was insulting and gut punching to see a character you love be poorly executed.“

continue reading please because I’m trying to be reasonable here and share what a majority felt when viewing Black Widow (it may differ from yours but I hope it enlightens a few who may be confused or whatnot about this topic, generally it’s how I feel the fanbase as a whole had been handling it poorly)

quick side note, no one wants to feel their opinion doesn‘t matter, so be mindful the next time you fight someone just because you disagree, I love debating and talking so you can come at me if you disagree, I like educating myself on these things too in case someone can bring up actual arguments that prove their side and reasoning, on the other hand if I hear one more “it’s because she’s a girl huh?” I might very well scream.

Is it bad because he turned out to be a woman? Why is this the first thing that gets debated??

Let me explain just how annoying it is that this is the debate whenever it cuts down to it.

The answer is yes and no, I will explain why, because I don’t believe the gender should always matter to a character.

Although everything great about Tony was stripped from him, all of it, only the title “Taskmaster“ and I guess the color scheme if you will, stayed the same, it would’ve been the same trash written character even if he wasn’t a girl, because they had no personality no resemblance of the beloved character in the first place, which is why it is a bad idea to have changed him into a woman, why you may ask?

it’s the image, it creates an idea that women cannot be as great as men, that a female version of Taskmaster would just suck, be terrible and useless, it paints Antonia to be bland plot device character to show Black Widow‘s pain and suffering. The character herself has no substantial personality or drive, nothing, she’s just a victim. And yeah it is a tragic story I won’t say it isn‘t but it didn‘t work for me, and for a lot of fans as I’ve witnessed.

It would’ve been more effective to had foreshadowed the possibility of her being alive only to find that she had died and Natasha would then have to live with the fact that she murdered her for ”nothing” but no instead we decided that she would survive, only she was brainwashed, so there’s no real vendetta or motive as to why she tried to kill Natasha, it would’ve been more impactful if Antonia was angry with her attempt to kill her, wanting to show she could best her in every well possible. Like trying to tarnish her Avenger status.

There were variables on how to make Taskmaster a better written character, there is potential but I personally would like the Mandarin effect (which I love the comic Mandarin I was so mad in IM3 so I can’t believe they did it x2)

On top of it the fact that the plot twist you could see coming a mile away also felt like the biggest after thought in the whole movie, it felt like they had a different direction they were originally going to go, but they took the easy bait of “we need a big twist” which Marvel has suffered for years on, always with some twist and it’s getting sickening to see it happen every movie.

Besides the point, it doesn’t go over well a lot of the fanbase is conflicted, angry and there are actual debates, which it happens we have differing opinions, its hard to find a thing we all agree on… and yet the only defense I’m seeing is “it’s because she’s a girl now?“ “you just hate women.” I’m tired of being told it’s sexism when it’s not, this version of Taskmaster was already doomed, they didn’t wanna go a comic accurate to begin with, you can tell by how ugly the suit was. (no cape?? not even the mask was cool)

I had already suspected from the beginning of the first trailer that was NOT Tony Masters, something about it just felt like Blindstrike from Stretch Armstrong to me (they kept making it seem like a dude only to reveal it was a woman, although they executed that perfectly please give it a watch)

I had already called it, we barely even met Taskmaster yet I knew it from the trailer, I didn’t enjoy the movie it played out exactly how I expected (which my expectations were low)

I found it insulting for a few reasons, it made it seem like Black Widow is either too good or not good enough to fight a man, it felt like they wanted to push how powerful women are, which I’m all for, women are very powerful I would know because I am one.

But it rubbed me the wrong way that she can’t have an enemy go toe to toe with her unless it’s a woman?? It didn’t sit right with me, is this meaning she can’t have a rival that’s a man because men or stronger or weaker… that’s where my head went, the gender shouldn’t matter to her ever, we know Natasha can take out anyone, so why the sudden change of a character whose always been a male?

I understand the MCU wants to be diverse, but there are more female characters than a lot of the fanbase realize, the MCU has barely scratched the surface, instead of changing other characters drastically in the name of “diversity” they should just pull actual diverse characters, or create some, this version of Taskmaster doesn’t feel anything like Tony Masters, they lacked all flair, the fact that it’s just Winter Soldier and Ghost from AMATW 2.0 is just lacking.

it’s something we have seen before, and this wasn’t needed to “full circle” Natasha‘s story.

It’s not because Taskmaster is a girl that is the problem it’s the general writing that felt like they didn’t really care about the character and changing it to be a girl was like leading a lamb to the slaughter, so many fans were going to be enraged because they ruined everything about the character, so you should be mad they put the actress in this position, they chose to do that to the character and it feels like it was done on purpose, just for the reaction.

The character was already bad making it a girl just made it worse because it just felt bad. It gave me the impression that a female version of Anthony Masters is just boring, that is not what we should think but so many are, and yes a lot of people are mad just because it’s a woman because they might get the idea that the character would’ve been better if he was written to be a male, but what we all really want is just a good adaption of the character, that’s all, he very well could’ve been a woman and everyone might’ve been alright (some might be iffy or mad you cannot avoid this) but I know with good writing I would’ve been fine if it was Toni Masters, not this Antonia Dreykov.

And that is what I really could not tolerate and handle with what they did to Taskmaster.

It didn’t feel like they had plans to flesh the character out they were just marking boxes on “what comic character can we use for Black Widow” checklist.

I freaking love Tony Masters and he (and she) deserved better writing all around than what the MCU gave them (and us)

There was more I was going to add on but in my frustration I began to forget where I was going with this and didn’t get to properly express my feelings.

Now next time you see someone complaining over Taskmaster don’t just assume they are sexist, there’s so much more depth to the character which is why we’re so angry over this iteration, and the fact that people defend the character just because it’s a girl doesn’t go well for me, that’s a poor excuse for people who had more pressing reasons why the character was a failure, not because they’re a woman but because it feels like we can’t dislike them because they’re a woman.

Imagine if your favorite suffered the poor writing just for a different characters development, it is a terrible feeling and having people tell you not to be upset or say you’re sexist for being upset is so invalidating.

Not to mention that the MCU continues to erase many traits and personalities of characters and on top of that, their sexualities (where is that diversity??) is already frustrating but it’s starting to feel like the writers don’t even value the characters they have.

[swordladywritesthings]

Choice Words

Pairing: Dreamnotfound (ooh thats new)

Words: 1972

TWs: miscommunication, a bit of anxiety. Let me know if there’s one I should list!

AN: So this is actually a school assignment, but since my teacher thought it was good and I still like it, it’s goin here. I know I don’t usually post MCYT content, but I’m hoping to change that soon! Don’t worry, Sanders Sides will probably stay my main priority for a while. (Also yes I’m still supposed to be on hiatus I know I’m a bad Christian shhhhh /j) Enjoy! EDIT! This is now available on AO3 here! for your viewing pleasure

George felt his head bounce against the school bus’ window as it bumped and sputtered its way down the road. He closed his eyes, hoping to catch up on some of the sleep that he had missed out on the night before, and now was sorely missing. This didn’t last long, however, because the bus screeched to a stop and the sounds of other teens climbing out filled his ears. George just sighed and was about to close his eyes again when he felt a pair of strong shoulders crash into his.

   He pulled his head away from the window to meet his best friend’s lively green eyes. “Dream, I’m trying to relax,” he huffed, doing his best to smother the smile he felt creeping onto his face. “Do you mind?”

   “Nah, I don’t mind at all,” Dream responded with a cheeky grin, making George roll his eyes. He was just about to put his earbuds in when Dream grabbed his hand, stopping the movement. 

   “Uh, actually,” Dream said, looking down at where his and George’s hands met, “I had something to ask you.”

   “Mhm?” George just continued to scroll through his phone, seemingly not minding the contact.

   Dream suddenly found himself supremely more nervous than he had been a few moments ago. He took a steadying breath and just decided to spit it out.

   “There’s a new movie I wanna see coming out in theaters tonight, and I was wondering if you’d wanna come with me?”

   At this George turned his attention from Twitter to focus on Dream’s face. After a momentary pause, he smiled. “That sounds like fun! I’ve got homework to do, but you could pick me up later tonight?”

   Dream let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Yeah, totally. Around eight?”

   “Perfect, it’s a date then!”

   As George went back to looking at his phone, the bus came to Dream’s stop. He grabbed his backpack and gave his friend a goodbye smile, then made his way off the bus and up his driveway. When he was sure that it had turned the next corner down the street, Dream did a little jump and let out a whoop. He was so sure that George would turn him down that now that he hadn't, Dream wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. After a moment of stimming, which mostly just meant standing in the driveway clicking his tongue and shaking his hands up and down, he had regained his composure enough to be able to enter his house without immediately being teased by his sister. 

   At 7:30 that evening, Dream was standing in front of his full-length mirror and evaluating the outfit he had chosen. It was nothing fancy, just a pair of jeans and a lime button-up shirt, but that was exactly the issue. Was it too formal? Or not formal enough? This was his first date with George after all, he didn’t want to disappoint. 

   It was in the middle of this scrutiny that his sister spoke up, leaning against the doorframe casually. “You look fine, idiot,” Drista said with a teasing grin. “You know he’s gonna like you no matter what you dress like, don’t stress about it.”

   “But what if I overdress? Or underdress? What do people even wear to movie dates anyway?”

   Drista shrugged. “I dunno, I’ve never been on one. Probably what you’d wear for a usual date,”

   “Thank you for the help, dear sister,” Dream said sarcastically, turning his head to give her a deadpan expression. She stuck her tongue out at him, so of course he had to stick his tongue out at her.

   Their teasing match was interrupted, however, by their mother calling up the stairs. “Clay, George is going to be expecting you! Shake a leg!”

   “I’m going!” Dream hollered back, taking one more moment to fuss with his hair. Drista sighed and walked over, fixing it for him. 

   “You’ll be fine, Clay. You’ve known him for, like, ever, and just because you’re going on a date doesn’t mean that either of you are any different than you were this morning.”

   Dream nodded, and Drista gave his arm an affectionate whack. “Now get out of my house, you nerd.”

   “I’m still older than you!” He protested as he grabbed his keys and walked out the front door.

   The drive to George’s house was a short one, and soon enough he was knocking on the front door of a small ranch-style house that served as the Found household. He took a step back from the door when he heard muffled barks and scrabbling of nails on the other side. George cracked the door open, pulling three very excited dogs away from where they were trying to push out the door and run into the front yard. He smiled a bit sheepishly at Dream, then turned his head to call over his shoulder. “Mum! I’m leaving!” After a faint response had been hollered back, he shoved his way out past the dogs and onto the front porch.

   George huffed, brushing his sweater free from the dog hair that clung to it. “Sorry about that, the dogs just get excited when someone comes to the door.”

   “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to your dogs by now,” Dream chuckled, bumping his shoulder against George’s. “You look nice.”

   “Thanks,” George fidgeted with the hem of the blue sweater he was wearing, kneading it between his fingertips. The outfit wasn’t really anything special, but it was one of Dream’s favorites. The color made the brown of George’s eyes richer, and it looked especially good paired with the light pink blush that was currently painted across his face. 

      Soon enough the two of them were sitting in the plush red chairs of the theater, watching previews and waiting for the movie to start. It was a pretty small showing, there were only two other couples in the entire room, so Dream and George were free to spread out. George had his legs slung over the armrest, leaning his back against Dream’s shoulder, occasionally tipping his head back to give him an upside-down grin. In a way that confused George to no end, Dream had managed to fold his long legs underneath him so he was sitting cross-legged on the chair. He had one arm hooked over the back of the seat, not quite around George but close enough to feel the warmth coming from him.

   The background chatter of the theater quieted to a hush as the lights slowly faded and the beginning of the movie started to play on the screen. George flipped around in his chair to sit normally and shuffled closer to Dream’s side in excitement, causing butterflies to erupt within the taller boy’s chest. He casually dropped his arm to rest around George’s shoulders, then settled back to watch as the main character dashed onto the screen.

      The movie’s plot climax was fast approaching, and George wasn’t handling it very well. He was curled into Dream’s side as the scene around the main character exploded, and he practically shoved his face into Dream’s shoulder with an anxious squeak when the character onscreen only narrowly avoided the hunters chasing him. Dream couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at George’s reactions, earning him a firm whack to the bicep.

   “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a very intense moment!” He mumbled, though the effect of his statement was diminished slightly by the fact that he was still hiding his face in the lime green fabric of Dream’s shirt. 

   “Aww, don’t worry Gogy, I’ll protect you,” Dream cooed teasingly, patting his head fondly. With a quick glare towards him, George turned back to look at the screen, though he didn’t move from where he was basically plastered to Dream’s side. Maybe if he had looked closer, he would’ve seen the smitten looks that Dream couldn’t resist giving him every couple of minutes. Or maybe he would’ve caught the way that Dream stiffened momentarily when he grabbed George’s hand, caught up in the moment. Or the relief that flooded over him when George just squeezed it without a second thought.

   The two of them got so caught up in the movie that it took both of them by surprise when the lights came back on and the credits started rolling. George pulled away from Dream’s hold to stand up, which made him pout for a moment, but returned to stand at his side when he had gathered his things. Together they walked out into the parking lot, where George talked animatedly about the characters of the movie while Dream watched in amusement. The drive back to George’s house was filled with much of the same, George sharing his thoughts on the plot and characters while Dream listened happily, throwing in his own opinions here and there.

   Dream did his best to swallow his nerves as he walked George up to his front porch, catching his elbow when he went to open the door.

   “I had a really nice time tonight, George,” He smiled at his best friend, hoping he sounded a lot calmer than he felt.

   “So did I! Thanks for inviting me. We should do this again sometime,” George chirped.

   “You think so?”

   “Definitely!”

   “In that case,” Dream said, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his courage. “Would it be alright if I kissed you goodnight?”

   This seemed to take George off-guard, taking a small step back and giving him a baffled look. “What? Why?”

   “It’s okay if not!” Dream rushed to backtrack, bringing one of his hands up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just figured that’s what people usually do after a date goes well.”

   So many emotions flickered across George’s face in a matter of moments. Disbelief, realization, guilt, eventually landing on a mix of confusion and sadness. “Clay,” He started softly. “When you asked me to come with you tonight, did you mean it romantically?”

   A look of horror and embarrassment struck Dream’s features. “Did you think I meant it platonically?”

   George nodded silently, and Dream buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve made it more clear. Jesus Christ, I’m such an idiot.”

   “Hey, hey, don’t talk about yourself like that!” George said sternly, drawing Dream’s gaze from his palms to his blushing face. “Maybe there was a communication issue, and maybe neither of us completely understood the point of tonight, but that does not make you an idiot,” his voice softened as he watched Dream’s face flush. 

   “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Dream mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets self-consciously. “I should probably get going,” he went to turn away but felt a hand reach out and grab his forearm before he could. 

   “Clay, I…” George hesitated, trying to find the right way to say what he wanted to say. “I did really enjoy myself tonight, and I’m sure that I would’ve acted differently if I had known how you felt about me,” He quirked his lips up into a smile. “Can we try this again? Do it right next time?”

   Dream’s eyes shone with cautious excitement. “Really? You wanna go on an actual real date with me?”

   George nodded, and Dream smiled excitedly. “Okay, let’s do that.”

   George turned to look at his front door, then back at Dream. “I gotta go, it’s late. Text me when you get home, okay?”

   Dream nodded, then reached out to gently squeeze one of George’s hands. “Yeah, absolutely. Good night, George.”

   George hesitated for a split second, then rose onto his tiptoes to press a quick kiss against Dream’s cheek. “G’night, Dream,” he murmured, then disappeared inside his house, leaving Dream on the porch in stunned but ecstatic silence.

TAGLIST

General: @definitely-a-living-human @my-friends-art-and-writing @arodynamic-enby @ari-the-writer-enby @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @asexualtrashcan @the17thmeatball @inku-snas-art @fandoms-are-my-world

MCYT: @gabnapp @justalittlecorrupted

[thisaccisdead]

give up on a miracle - sanders sides au - chp. 1

pairing(s): as of now, romantic nicomas and platonic everyone else

warnings: lots of religious stuff

summary: patton, virgil, logan, and janus are angels in charge of answering prayers. when they find out the earth is scheduled to be destroyed in a week, their only hope for saving it is to set up two humans: thomas sanders and nico flores.

word count: 3.5k

notes: this is a based off of miracle workers but not an exact au, idk it’ll be fun, you don’t have to have seen the show, you just have to like silly angel shenanigans 

Please, God, let this somehow work out.

Thomas didn’t ask for miracles too often. Well—that was a lie, he probably prayed for some inconsequential thing everyday, but he rarely meant it the way he meant this one. The man at the mall felt like fate. He was beautiful, and according to his backpack he was gay, and he was just a few tables down, and... Thomas should have just said hi as soon as he had noticed him, but he had psyched himself out. Like always.

Usually that would be the end of the story, but as Thomas was headed for the exit, the man was there too. In front of him. Speaking to him.

Thomas was too caught off guard to process the first half of what he said—though he did register being given back his abhorrent carrot snack—and when he tuned back in, all he caught was:

“Uh, it’s okay! It’s probably a bit too nosy for me to ask anyway.”

“Uh, yeah! Super nosy! What’s wrong with you, man?” was the sentence that came out of Thomas’s mouth in response. He blamed his lips for coming up with it, because he knew his mind couldn’t have been involved.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the man smiled apologetically at him, and even that small, sheepish smile was so radiant… yeah, Thomas was mentally beating the shit out of himself. “Well, have a good night!”

So, now the fate-given man was headed somewhere else, and Thomas was about to lose him—probably forever—if he didn’t act. So, obvious answer: he had to act. But he just… couldn’t. Not without a sign at least.

Not without a push.

When no push came, Thomas told himself it wouldn’t have led anywhere anyway. He continued about his day, with only the slightest added weight in his chest.

•••

“Aw, Virge, we have to do something about this one!”

Virgil looked up from his own paperwork to see the prayer Patton had pulled up.

“‘Please, God, let this somehow work out,’” he read out dryly. “Hm, not very specific.”

“Oh, but you didn’t—c’mon, look—“ Patton waved his hand to replay the video of the scene. The figures popped up on the screen, and Patton was reminded all over again of the dopey, flustered expression of the human, Thomas, as he failed so miserably at talking to his mall crush. It was such a silly, hopeful wish—Patton’s favorite kind—and he couldn’t bear to see it go unanswered.

His fellow angel did not share this opinion, evidentially. “Nope. Nuh-uh. No way,” Virgil said, “Love prayers are stupid as shit, hardest of all, never work out. If this whole department’s getting shut down, I’d rather spend my last week answering achievable prayers.”

Patton frowned. His brown-dappled wings drooped as his excitement wavered. “Is that right, though?” he asked, “Should we really stick to… what? Finding lost wallets? Delivering extra sandwiches? Like we’ve done every year of this job? If this is all ending, I wanna finally do something that matters, Virge.”

Virgil looked betrayed. “Lost wallets do matter, Patton. Maybe they don’t end droughts, or heal hearts, but that doesn’t mean they don’t matter. If people wish for it, it matters to them. I always thought you agreed with me on that.”

Patton bit his lip. He did agree with Virgil, on some level, and on any other day he would have considered his words more carefully. But with the prayer department set to close down this very week, he had lost some of his filter. Maybe his ideas were far-fetched, but when he had joined the Department of Answered Prayers he had been hoping to do exactly that--end droughts, heal hearts.

“Virgil’s right,” chimed in Logan. Their manager made his way over, and took Patton’s tablet from his hands. He swiped upwards on the prayer, officially dismissing it as ‘impossible.’ “There is no need to feel bad, Patton. It’s not our fault humans mainly ask for impossible things. If they want impossible, they need God, and God doesn’t have that kind of time. If they want an extra sandwich… we can pull a few strings.”

Logan nodded approvingly to where Virgil was coding breezes on his tablet, screen open to a view of a rural town avenue. He was carefully, cautiously, innocuously blowing leaves into piles one-by-one. This process eventually cleared the front yard of a small house, just in time for a kind-eyed, middle-aged man to come home and cheer at the sight of the finished chore. He even did a stupid little dance to himself, and Patton saw the smallest smile tug at Virgil’s lips.

“I agree with Patton,” came a voice from over by the mini fridge. Janus was doing what he did best: sipping at the canned wine he wasn’t meant to have, not doing any work, and giving his opinion on everything anyway. “Let’s do something interesting. It’s not like it matters at this point.”

“What do you mean?” Patton squinted at him.

“Cuz the prayer department’s getting shut down, duh, what else have we been talking about?” Virgil answered.

“No,” Janus said, “Well—yes, but… you know why we’re getting shut down, right?”

Patton and Virgil tilted their heads at him, and Logan looked away. A smile appeared on Janus’s face, but not one of joy. One that had an edge, a venom in it. “Logan… you didn’t tell them?”

“It would only upset them,” the management angel replied, still not meeting Janus’s eyes.

“Yeah, because they’ll not be upset at all when they see Earth randomly explode in a few days,” Janus deadpanned.

“What?!” Patton and Virgil exclaimed in simultaneous dismay.

Logan glared at Janus. “Are you happy? Now we have to deal with this for the next week.”

“Earth can’t explode yet,” Virgil said matter-of-factly, “that’s not right. Right?”

Patton nodded emphatically. “We should’ve gotten at least a century’s notice! Or had it on a public schedule somewhere!”

“Yeah, God has to call it off. At least for now,” Virgil agreed.

“You want God to stop it?” Janus said with a laugh. “He didn’t even remember it was happening; it was His PA who told the management staff.”

“Yes, it was,” Logan narrowed his eyes at Janus. “How did you find out about it anyway?”

Janus opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Virgil cut in, “God’s not gonna do anything about it?”

“It’s been in His plan. Why would He need to change it?” Logan asked rhetorically, adjusting his large, round-framed glasses as he did so. It was a movement he made often when he was being a know-it-all.

“How’s Earth gonna die?” Patton asked, looking at the floor, still in denial. He had lived his life on Earth, he had been a human—they all had, before they died and became angels. It had been so long since he’d been alive, he couldn’t quite remember the feeling of it. The memory was blurred around the edges, but it still seeped warmth, like dough burning into bread over a fire. Now, the only connection he had to that sensation were the humans--the chance to watch them, how they lived such utterly flawed, full lives. He recalled Thomas’s hopeful expression.

“Asteroid,” Logan replied. He didn’t need to check his files to give the answer, his ink-blue wings stiff behind him--and that was when Patton knew, despite his cold, indifferent attitude, this news was weighing on him too.

“Like the dinosaurs. Well, bigger. But still unoriginal of Him,” Janus scoffed, checking his nails—well, more like checking his gloves, which seemed unnecessary. Something mournful crossed his face for a moment, but Patton couldn’t place what. “The dinosaurs were sad too.”

“You lived in the 19th century. You weren’t around for dinosaurs,” Logan stated, brow furrowed in confusion. Janus ignored him.

“An asteroid? He could prevent that so easily! Earth deserves to at least live to its natural end,” Patton said. He glanced to Virgil, hoping for backup, but his coworker seemed most focused on biting his black-polished nails into dust.

“Well, isn’t it the natural end if it was in His plan?” Logan asked, once again, rhetorically. He also adjusted his glasses again. Patton liked to think of himself as particularly nice, even for an angel, but he wouldn’t have minded seeing those glasses broken in that moment.

“I’m more interested in your claim that Earth doesn’t ‘deserve’ to end,” Janus smiled at Patton. It was a slippery kind of smile, one that he couldn’t grasp the intentions of. “Overall, it’s a dumpster fire of a planet, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, 99% of the prayers are literally impossible for angels to answer at this point.”

“Yeah, well, I know some angels who are too busy with their shitty wine to even try—“ Virgil began to complain, turning on Janus, but Patton was too busy having a revelation to pay much attention to it.

“That’s it!” Patton exclaimed, jumping up from his seat with a grin.

“Please, be more specific, Patton,” Logan sighed. “Define ‘it.’”

Patton was, once again, too busy to pay attention to this. He made for the doorway with haste, only tossing over his shoulder: “I’m going to meet God!”

•••

Logan, Janus, and Virgil made it to God’s office before Patton did. He wasn’t the best with maps, so sue him. The trio was waiting in the grand hallway for him, and he was thankful that they had decided to back him up, despite the fact they had no idea what he was doing. Even though the coworkers bickered their fair share, you couldn’t work as the only 4 angels in a crumbling department without a certain bond forming.

Patton gave them a grateful smile as he strolled past them and right up to the secretary’s desk. The secretary, who was… not present? He checked the name plaque. Engraved in the gold of it was: Mrs. Snuffles, but the ‘u’ had been scratched out and written over so that it was Mrs. Sniffles. Before Patton could even begin to be perplexed by this, a large orange tabby hopped up from the floor, where she had been hidden, and onto the desk.

The cat looked him in the eye, with a surprising amount of purpose, and meowed.

“Hello?” Patton asked, dumbfounded. “...Mrs. Sni—Snuffles?”

She meowed again, this time with an undercurrent of what Patton could only assume was impatience.

“I—“ Patton looked back at the group behind him, but they just shrugged. They were following his lead. That couldn’t be good. “We would like to schedule a meeting with God, please.”

Mrs. Snuffles trotted over to a stack of papers, and pushed the top one aside with a swipe of her paw. She looked up from it after a moment, and then jumped down from the table, going up to the gilded, arched doorway at the end of the hall. She started meowing loudly, and soon an angel with cardinal-red wings and a matching red suit jacket stepped out. He looked down at Mrs. Snuffles, then up at Patton.

“I’m terribly sorry, but God is not available right now. He’s very busy,” the angel explained with a polite smile, the kind that was trained and not felt, “and he will be until Earth explodes. Thank you, goodbye.”

“Oh,” Patton said dumbly. He maybe should have expected that.

Mrs. Snuffles hissed at the angel, and he sighed. “You really think they want to talk to Him?”

“We do!” Patton interjected.

“You think you do,” the angel replied, an undercurrent of bitterness to his tone.

“Same difference, right?” Patton said, giving the other a hopeful smile.

“Just let us in, Princey,” Virgil’s annoyed voice came from behind. “Don’t be an ass. At least not more of one than usual.”

Patton looked between the two of them. “You know each other?”

‘Princey’ gave Virgil a deadpan glare. “Fine. You want a meeting with God? Be my guest.” He stepped aside from the doorway, gesturing to it with a sarcastic flourish.

When no one else made a move, Virgil grumbled and pushed past Patton. The rest of the group followed. When they got to the door, Patton paused and turned to the red-winged man. “Princey—“

“Roman,” he corrected.

“Roman,” Patton repeated. He pointed at the cat curiously, “Mrs. ‘Sniffles’?”

Roman blushed. “I was allergic when I was alive.”

A resounding reply of “Me too!” went through the group, and they all turned to each other in mild surprise.

“It’s how I died!” Patton added cheerily.

“Huh,” Roman replied with a puzzled frown. He cleared his throat. “Well, good luck.”

“Thank you!” Patton said. He looked down at Mrs. Snuffles as well, “Thank you, too.”

She gave him a final, curt meow, and rubbed up to his legs, pushing his feet against the door. He laughed, turned to the others waiting for him, and they nodded. Roman opened the door, and gestured them in.

Patton didn’t know what he had expected God’s office to look like, but it was decidedly not what he found upon entering that door. He had expected something resembling the grand hallway leading up to it: golden statues, velvet carpet, ivory columns. And, sure, that seemed to be the basis of the office; it was everything that was added on that was surprising. The bookshelves were stacked exclusively with trashy magazines, the walls were covered in posters of boy bands and movie stars, and a side-room had been renovated into what appeared to be a personal Starbucks. Finally, in the center of it all, sitting on the sofa and watching TV, was:

“...God?” Patton asked unsurely.

The man--(should Patton call Him that?)--eyed the group from behind a pair of sunglasses. He didn’t bother to turn the TV off as He casually greeted, “Hey, babes! What’s up?”

“Um,” Patton glanced at his friends for help, but they were clearly just as lost as him. Well, not Janus; Janus seemed unbothered. This provided Patton some sense of comfort, enough for him to continue, “We wanted to ask about--”

“Hold that thought, hun,” God held up a finger. “Roman!”

Roman walked in, almost reluctantly, at the call. “Yes?”

“Be a peach and mute the TV, would you?” God asked, throwing His PA the remote. Roman caught it as if with practice, and pressed the mute button with a wry expression.

“Thanks, love you!” God said, then turned back to Patton. “What were we talking about?”

“Well--”

God tried to sip the frappe in His drink-holder, only to find it empty, and He interrupted again to say, “Roman, coffee alert! Mama needs His caffeine!”

Roman bit his lip, presumably to stop himself from letting out a sigh. When he walked to the Starbucks corner, he seemed to purposefully avoid eye contact with the group. Patton glanced at his friends, and found Virgil suppressing an amused grin, and Janus not bothering to suppress his.

“We wanted to ask about the end of the world,” Patton finally said.

God’s brow furrowed slightly. “End of the world? Oh! OH, that is coming up, isn’t it? When’s that again, Ro?”

Roman, from behind the coffee maker, replied, “7 and a half days.”

“Oo, fun!” God gasped, “That’s so soon! I totally forgot that was so soon, isn’t that crazy?”

“So crazy,” Roman agreed dryly, handing Him a new venti frappe.

“Right,” Patton said, almost at a loss, “So, you… want the world to end?”

God shrugged, using one finger to play with his coffee straw as he spoke. “It was in my plan, wasn’t it? Plus, I mean, y’know… Earth’s really, like, ‘ew’ right now, right? Like, sure, I COULD save it, and then I’d let the humans keep doing their little thing, but I don’t want that; they’re mostly messes. I wanna make… I dunno a new place with, like, more Idris Elba’s.”

“And you’re willing to kill the real Idris Elba for that?” Janus cut in. God looked him up and down critically, before asking,

“Hey, do I know you from something?”

“No,” Janus replied quickly, “Certainly not from Eden, and even if I was there, I wasn’t the snake. I’m a real angel, hush.”

Patton turned to him in confusion, but God just shrugged again, and said, “K, whatever. Anyway, yeah, what’d you gals wanna know about Earth again?”

“Um, we wanted you to, maybe… not… blow it up?” Patton asked.

“Hmm,” God hummed, “Thanks, but no thanks! Earth is gross, I’m just so over it, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Patton replied without thinking, unable to hide the frustration in his voice anymore, “If Earth’s messed up, all the more reason to be there for your children, and not just kill everything. It’s wrong.”

There was a ‘thunk’ against the floor, and Patton looked to see that Roman had dropped the old coffee cup he had been carrying to the trash. Logan and Virgil were staring at Patton with equally stricken expressions, and Janus’s face was unreadable. He suddenly realized what he had said. He then realized how many angels had fallen for saying much less.

God stood up slowly. He approached Patton until He was uncomfortably close.

 “Awe,” He pouted, “babe, I know it’ll be sad, but how am I supposed to change it now? It’s in the plan, hun. I’m sure you understand.” He patted his cheek once condescendingly--a touch that carried the pleasant warmth of a sunbeam--before He stepped back and took a long sip of His coffee. Patton didn’t break eye contact the whole time.

“I have an idea,” Patton said in a newly sunny tone--the type of overly kind, conversational tone that should be feared-- “How about a bet?”

“Are you for real?” God gaped at the continued insolence, somewhere between disbelief and delight. In the end, delight--or at least novelty--won. “Deal with the Devil is out, deal with God is in; OK, I’m into it!”

“You say it’s too hard to save Earth now? Impossible, even?” Patton asked challengingly. He heard a quiet gasp of realization from Logan, and when he glanced behind himself, he noticed Janus was smiling, as if impressed. This gave him enough confidence to continue, “Impossible, like it would be impossible for a few random angels to answer an unanswerable prayer?”

“Sweetie, I don’t know what you’re saying, but I love the way you’re saying it,” God waved His hand appreciatively.

Patton took Logan’s tablet from his hands. He scrolled to find the ‘Discarded Prayers: Impossible’ file. He held it out to God for proof as he concluded, “If we can answer one of these prayers before the end of the world, surely you can stop it from ending.”

“THAT’S your plan?! Pat, we can’t complete the possible prayers half the time,” Virgil exclaimed. He buried his face in his hands. “Earth’s dead.”

God, however, let out a dreamy sigh, holding one hand against His chest. Patton wasn’t sure if he was meant to feel like the ambitious hero or the prize dog at a pet show. “You know, I should say no…” God bit his lip with the same expression a suburban mother might have when she was about to cheat on her juice cleanse, “...but I never could resist a little twist! Ok, shake on it!”

God extended His hand, and Patton took it without hesitation.

“I, God, proclaim: Earth will not be destroyed next week if, and only if, an impossible prayer is answered.” As He spoke, His palm began to glow white, such that Patton had to look away for fear of being blinded. If God’s touch had been a sunbeam previously, it was now the whole sun, and Patton almost cried out from the burning heat. Technically, he didn’t have skin in the same way he did when he was alive, but he swore he felt it melting off in that grip.

Yet when God pulled away, there was no extra light in the room, no damage to his hand.

God smiled innocently. “Ok! Cute! So, what prayer you gonna choose?”

Huh. Patton hadn’t thought that far ahead. Maybe Virgil’s concern wasn’t so unwarranted. He looked down at the tablet he was still holding. His eyes scanned past several prayers that were beyond impossible--fix capitalism, no more YouTube ads, fix global warming, no more incels--until his eyes caught on just the thing. An unabashed grin overtook Patton’s face in realization,

“Oh, I know exactly what prayer we’re doing.”

•••

“Well, have a good night!”

Nico turned his back on the cute mall man after he said it, and he had to push down the urge to glance back a final time. He tried not to believe in true love—it was at best unlikely, and at worst an extremely problematic trope—but he was a writer, and a daydreamer, and when he spotted the man a few tables down at the food court… he just knew.

Ok, he didn’t know, there was no way to know that kind of thing—but he did want. He did hope. And he did, in a move that was unprecedented for him, pray:

Please, if anyone’s up there: I know it’s silly, but I want this so badly. And I know it’s basically impossible at this point but, maybe… if we meet again... let this somehow work out?

[keevansixx]

Tumblr+ is a bad idea, but i understand why they are pushing for it?

Ok, how many of us have lived through the purges, watched as they nuked from low orbit all the artistic smexiness in a bout of puritanical fervor, while leaving the bots and blatant unfettered to rampage across this lovely hellsite free range and unchecked? Doing nothing while the shitiness of humanity is allowed to harass and threaten people for posting their hot takes (regardless of whether they are right or wrong)?

yeah, some of us have watched all that has transpired.

This is nothing new....

When you view past the staff statements, all the carefully crafted wording and corporate speak, all that remains is greed, pure and simple....

for some of us, this is a safe haven, a refuge from the rest of the clusterfeck that is known as social media. where individuals can post their innermost thoughts, creative ideas, and feelings to the ether. If the stars are aligned in their favor, while the word gods shine favorably upon thee, and the image deities smile in dank approval, we find other like minded souls piloting their own ships within this digital night that meet briefly to share a like, comment. or reblog before moving on to other horizons. In it’s simplicity, tumblr is almost the last bastion of creative thought left in the entirety of the world wide web. 

for others, tumblr is just yet another extension of their social media psyche, dragging all their real world baggage into it’s pages, hoping that someone out there may offer a solution to their own personal problems (or at least stroke their egos or biases to orgasmic bit) . Activists abound, and are shouting from the digital rooftops “look at me! See! See the violence inherit in the system, help help, i’m being oppressed!”” While the darkest ugliness in certain parts of humanity responds with vile poison and vitriol to ideas that do not agree or align with their own...committing the oldest of digital sins, in the newest of ways. Sad....but i digress.

Tumblr, to it’s corporate and wall-street taskmasters, is not greatly profitable in it’s current form. Sure, they get a little bit of money here and there from all the boring unremovable ads sprinkled throughout everyone’s feeds...but that’s just it. ad money keeps the lights on and the hamster wheels turning in the server rooms, and maybe a pot of coffee or box of stale doughnuts in the break room to keep the hamsters happy, but in the end it’s just enough to keep the site barely alive, while ensuring the devils get their deep pockets full of due.

The question everyone is asking themselves, but don’t know it yet, is...

To just Whom does tumblr+ benefit the most? 

It’s certainly not for the fan-fic artists who create art based on someone else’s works. certainly not for the shit-posters who reblog all the weirdly wonderfully funny and bizarre things the world web has to offer. certainly not for the fanfic writers, who craft the continuing stories of their favorite properties they do not own. definitely not for average joe or jane blogger who basically repost everything that crosses their feeds because they enjoy that stuff immensely, and want to share it all with everyone who follows them. Certainly not for I, who basically just comes here to post fictional stories from pregenerated prompts, whatever pops into my head, and a few reblogs from things that catch my fancy.

So who does that leave? In the Immortal words of Sherlock Holmes, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ”When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

For a few original tumblr artists, this may be a boon (but i doubt it). why would you settle for a middleman to get paid for your original art, when you could sell to a direct market off site for prints/merch straight to the customer and making bank? Seems counterintuitive to me to allow a site to step in to earn money off your hard work and creativity. Plus a paywall cuts you off from potential customers who may be interested in your works, but will not pay tumblr just to view your works....kinda shooting yourself in the foot going plus.

Tumblr+ is being built for all the clout chasers that think they will benefit from a blue plus mark (just like on twitter and instagram, go figure) banking on human vanity and obsessive compulsive disorder to bring in the money. (that’s right! buy that blue + mark ya little cash monkeys...spend, spend for that social credit! muahahahaha!)

The other reason is Porn. (don’t laugh...the internet you enjoy today was built on the metaphorical backs of the porn industry. every internet innovation enjoyed in the past 35 years was created, tested, and tried first somewhere to deliver, watch, and enjoy porn. sure it got started on university campuses, but the porn industry made it take off like a rocket to push product) Tumblr can’t beat it...they have consistently shown they are incapable of removing all the raunchy naughty bits from this site. If you can’t beat them, join them. Put all the adult content behind a paywall, set the price, and watch the money roll in as humans just can’t resist watching a good fluff n’ tickle. Set the booby algorithm phasers to “paywall”!  Wanna see that statue of Venus de Milo, or the statue of David? gonna have to pay that monthly fee to see. “Oh, but you’re just an artist drawing artistic nudes as a hobby? too bad! behind the paywall you go too. We want our cut of the share regardless how you may feel about it.” 

basically Tumblr is trying to change the clientele....facts. They hope to draw in the same demographics that make sites like reddit, twitter, instagram, and others profitable to the corporation, at the expense of the long term users that made this site the unique thing it is today. 

but hey, what do i know, i’m just a messed up monkey with an opinion, take it all with a huge grain of salt and live your best life possible....but the cards are not in tumblr+’s favor. 

Everyone has got an opinion on this, that’s all well and good. If you agree/disagree that’s fine too....just remember to be kind in all things, show the wisdom and grace of the best of humanity, take a deep breath before responding, and reply with the best of yourself as you can muster...after all, you’re only human....Ook ook.