#but that's just a personal thing! i do think he's popular for a reason

[undead-supernova]

Masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Mr. Munson are freshman english teachers at south jefferson high school and it seems that some of the kids think he's a better teacher than you. and, yeah, you're a little bit pissed

wc: 3.9k

no cw for this prologue - (lighthearted enemies to lovers)

a fun 2000s idea i had after watching the tv show English Teacher

title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

You were a curious moth to a smoldering flame. If anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d tell them they were crazy. And yet, here you were, staring at a piece of lined paper sticking out of a locker. 

It belonged to Dustin Henderson, obvious from the Weird Al sticker stuck next to another of a retro baseball hat that read This is my thinking cap! Yeah, undoubtedly Dustin’s.

You thought about trying to push it back in so he could avoid some stupid bully ripping it. There was no reason for anyone to do that, but Dustin was a freshman and, well, he wasn’t exactly the most popular guy here. 

Fuck it, you thought before taking a step forward.

As you touched the worn corner, you spotted your name poking out from the page. Next to it was…Mr. Munson’s?

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling it out just a little further.

I just think Mr. Munson is better

Huh?

You yanked the paper from the slit, fisting it with both hands as you scanned the page. That was undoubtedly his handwriting, haphazardly written like he was always thinking faster than he wrote. 

So what the hell was Dustin Henderson doing saying that Mr. Munson was a better teacher than you? Dustin was in your class, not his! How the hell would he know?

A sudden flood of panic washed through you, causing you to throw a glance over to Aisha sitting farther up the hallway, scribbling away at something.  She was always here before everyone else, begging you to give her homework early. Most days the answer was no. Most days.

But today, her attention seemed far away. 

You looked back down, noticing a bunch of tally marks in pencil and pen. Even one was made with…an Expo marker? What the fuck?

she’s hot though, someone responded under Dustin’s comment, taunting you in red ink.

dude I’m dating Suzie 

that doesn’t mean you can’t look

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

Why did this feel like betrayal? Why was the word gnawing at your gut? Why was it bringing that bagel you’d scarfed down this morning up to the surface? 

“Find anything good?”

You startled, instinctively jumping backwards and into the chest of the person behind you. Whirling around, you were face-to-face with Mr. Munson himself. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to you. Ever. You’d been here since last spring, subbing for a teacher on maternity leave before she decided to become a stay at home mom. The hiring process was much easier after that. You’d see him at staff meetings and watch him holding the door open for the students after school like he was herding zoo animals off of his arc. 

And now here he was, looking way too put together for a Monday morning. He had a crisp white button down with a noticeably ironed black tie and his long hair skillfully tucked into a low bun. His shaggy bangs were freshly trimmed with little tendrils framing his face. You couldn’t help but think he was the only teacher here without dark circles under his eyes. 

“I…” you trailed, trying to parse through everything that’s just happened. The tally marks. The comments. The other candidate standing in front of you. The sheer amount of tally marks declaring you inferior to said candidate. 

Mr. Munson’s eyes flickered down at the page, eyebrows shooting up. Before you could respond, he plucked it from your fingers. He mouthed the words as he read, scanning intently.

And then he let out a wheeze of laughter.

“Dustin fuc—freaking, excuse me, Henderson. You know, he’s just—” He looked back up at you, grin fading as he noticed your deflated expression. “Woah, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine and you hated that it wasn’t fine. 

There was an image that flashed briefly before your eyes, of a note stuck to your locker with gum. A love letter from your crush, the one you held to your chest with a death grip as you floated through the cafeteria to his table. The great swell of hope before the roar of laughter that ensued. Before he high-fived his friends and let you down hard. 

But this wasn’t your hometown. The walls weren’t flecked in vertical lines of blue and gold. The lights didn’t signal a death sentence.

And standing in front of you was your colleague, stuck with you in this limbo between the past and the present.

“Don’t let it get you down or whatever. They’re just kids.”

You could’ve sworn he saw the swirling fog that lingered in your eyes. Was this him letting you down easy? 

Then why does it feel like a jab?

Mr. Munson was acknowledged as the favorite teacher of the freshman class last semester. You’d caught the tail end of this recognition, watching him laugh and roll his eyes as he gave a quick salute and sat back down. Mr. Munson, who already had everything figured out within the first year of teaching here. 

You opened your mouth, pathetically suppressing the urge to ask, How did you do it? What am I doing wrong?

But the wave of students coming through brought you back to the current moment, stifling any admittance of weakness.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you said. “Gotta run, bye.”

You turned.

“Isn’t your classroom that way?”

Wincing, you turned back around, watching a smirk fill Mr. Munson’s stupid face. His eyes flickered toward your classroom three doors down from his before back at you.

“Yep, thanks. I know where my classroom is.”

“Yeah, I bet you sure do.”

“Great.”

That was the last time you would ever speak to Edward Munson.

Two weeks after you two found the list, you’d decided to sit in the empty break room for lunch. Every time you went to the cafeteria, you saw Mr. Munson there, laughing with the music and band teacher, Chelsea Jennings. 

The numerous times you’d tried sitting even slightly near them, you always heard Mr. Munson talking loudly about his Creative Writing elective. He’d rattle on about the short stories he’d assign them as models with authors even you didn’t know. Names that flew past your head, some even being professors from the local university you hadn’t attended. Professors that he still talked to.

You had taken up the Poetry elective, quickly updating the curriculum to include more female poets and sprinkle in some of the moderns. You’d desperately wanted to talk to someone else about it, but insecurity spread the second you realized all of your poets were well-known. But how could you ignore Emily Dickinson, Annie Finch, Pablo Neruda, and Mary Oliver?

Chelsea wasn’t the only one who talked to him so casually. The other teachers would greet him with such warm demeanours that it made you feel sick. George Bedding, the junior geometry teacher and Mathletes coach, ruffled Mr. Munson’s hair and pretended to punch him before sitting next to him. The fucking P.E. teacher and football coach, Shaun Atkins, even clapped a hand on his shoulder while heading towards the line for pizza day.

The few teachers that had been more than welcoming to you were never around for lunch. Angela Bradbury, one of the senior English teachers, was always helping students or hidden away in her room, nibbling on her Wonder Bread sandwiches while reading the latest romance novel. Sarah Stewart, an art teacher, was your closest ally but spent her lunches working on her own projects. 

See? There was no need to be jealous of him. You weren’t stuck on the outs. You fit in just fine.

Or, at least, that’s what you once thought. Now you had no idea how you were being perceived. And if you hadn’t come to the break room today, you would’ve spiraled. Again.

The room was small, coated in depressing beige with flimsy cabinets filled with powdered creamer and Folger’s coffee that expired two months ago. The refrigerator could barely keep anything cold. 

So, yeah, no one really came in here. 

(The other teachers hid a coffee pot in one of the supply closets with the good creamer in a mini-fridge you’d all chipped in for. Rumor has it that even Principal Scott used it.)

You sat down at the folding table, lower back already aching from the lack of support the metal chair gave you. At least you wouldn’t run into Mr. Munson again.

He’d just laughed while you were in the throes of humiliation. You supposed he didn’t have to think much about it because he was the one who was winning. Even if he was just some guy in his mid-thirties who must’ve taken this job as a last resort.

As if you hadn’t done the same.

But that was irrelevant. 

And, yes, you looked at Dustin a bit differently after the incident. Every time he raised his hand, which was a lot, you couldn’t help but see his penciled scrawl. 

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

You wondered dejectedly if they wrote that during your class. 

Before you could let out a frustrated groan, you noticed Mr. Munson in the doorway with a metal lunchbox covered in band stickers. He paused, wide eyes locking with yours. You couldn’t help but glare. 

Should the opinion of fourteen-year-old boys affect the way you treat another adult? No, probably not.

But you weren’t always known to be a rational person.

It could’ve been minutes. You couldn’t say. The two of you locked in a stare that seemed more like predator and prey than two teachers just trying to make it through another Tuesday. His dumb expression, dark eyes as wide as a deer caught in the fluorescence. You, a mountain lion trying desperately not to devour your sandwich, chips, and Coke in one bite. Including the aluminum can.

What was worse was the longer you stared, the more you noticed how attractive he was. Properly attractive, with lips coated in what seemed to be tinted chapstick. There was no way his lips were that pink, right? And he had to be using some kind of mascara with how dark his eyelashes were. Then there was his hair, seemingly still stuck in the Eighties with the waves. At least he brushed his hair at all, which was more than any of the greasy-haired teenage boys that frequented the halls. Maybe he could be something to aspire to.

Maybe he already was.

Mr. Munson moved silently, only heard as he pulled out the chair across from you, the legs screeching against the dirty linoleum. You surveyed his lunch, an already cooked ramen cup with a Dr. Pepper. He must’ve found a better microwave in Sarah’s closet.

The teachers of South Jefferson High School had a lot of secrets hidden in their closets. 

You finally dug into your sandwich, nearly moaning in relief. The school had implemented some new rule that the kids couldn’t bring snacks or they’d be “confiscated.” This rule applied to the teachers as well which was fucking cruel. You’d said your tearful goodbyes to apple slices with caramel and coughing fits between periods because you’d tried to choke down packets of Cheez-Its.

However, you weren’t prepared to watch Mr. Munson heave noodles into his mouth with a plastic fork, slurping and sucking the entire time. You couldn’t help your grimace, desperately trying to hold back the sound of disgust in the back of your throat.

Until he looked up, stray noodles plopping back into the styrofoam.  

“Uh, what kind of sandwich is that?” 

He only swallowed after he posed his question. Jesus Christ, this was the guy the kids were deeming their favorite? If only they saw him like this.

“Turkey and provolone,” you responded curtly. 

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause I see other stuff on it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Banana peppers and onion.”

“And lettuce.”

So much for that scared little deer. Now he was some annoying warthog or a fox trying to slither through chicken wire.  

“Why are you interested in my sandwich?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile growing in the corners of his lips. You hated it. “It, uh, looks good.”

“It’s Jersey Mike’s,” you said bluntly. 

Mr. Munson only shrugged again. “I only have ramen at my apartment.”

“Right.”

“And that fridge is a piece of shit.”

“True.”

“Woah!” he exclaimed, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Did we just agree on something?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the feeling of being a teenage girl again. It figures you’d revert after being in this environment for so long, with the stinging scent of cleaning supplies and hormones spreading like diseases. But nothing prepared you for this to transport you back to a time once easily forgotten.

On instinct, your tongue grazed the front of your teeth, laving over the missing braces that hadn’t been there for nearly twenty years. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. 

Something flickered across his eyes, too quick for you to distinguish. “Oh, I see,” he started, pointing his fork at you. It was then you noticed that it was in fact a spork. “You’re still pissed off about the list.”

You feigned a snort, waving him away as you took the final sip of your Coke. “What? No way.”

Another pearl of laughter flew out of him. “Has anyone told you you suck at lying?”

“Has anyone told you you’re annoying?”

As soon as it flew out of your mouth, you realized just how mean it sounded. You winced.

Mr. Munson let out another laugh but this one didn’t sound the same as the last. “If I had a penny for how many times I’ve been called annoying, I think I’d be, like, the wealthiest guy alive.”

“You’d surpass Bill Gates?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He pretended to think about it before nodding. “Oh, yeah.”

“Wow.”

You couldn’t help the ease you felt when he played along. But the irritation started right back up as he reopened his mouth.

“I know you’re impressed,” he teased. “It’s okay. Go ahead and gawk.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely starstruck.”

“Don’t worry about the list.” When you rolled your eyes again, he added, “Seriously! Those guys are just bored. I bet you’re a great teacher.”

“Thanks.” You didn’t even pretend to mean it.

After another shovel of noodles, he said, “But, just between us, I am kinda the best English teacher here.”

You couldn’t help a third eye roll. “I sincerely doubt it.”

A smug grin filled his face. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be sponsoring the new book club next semester.”

A flare of anger flooded your veins.

“What?”

“Don’t get too jealous there,” he teased.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sponsoring the book club.”

He let out a hum and tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I didn’t see your name on there.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see Edward Munson on that list.” You said his name with a certain amount of venom that you knew wasn’t lost on him. His resulting scowl said it all.

He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and fiddling with his tie. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with us being partners then.”

You were at a loss for words, unable to do anything but watch him move towards the door. “Been great talkin’ to you,” he said. He threw his napkin in the trash can before glancing at you over his shoulder. “I’m Edd-ie, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”

He walked away but you couldn’t help but throw a napkin at his fading figure. It made it as far as the end of the table.

That was the first moment you wondered why he’d decided to eat here in the first place.

“There must be some kind of mistake!” you exclaimed.

Principal Scott shook her head for probably the fourth time in two minutes. “I don’t see why you can’t work with Mr. Munson on this. If anything, that makes the club stronger.”

“It’s my chance to try and connect with these kids,” you explained, desperation leaking through your professional demeanor. “Ed—Mr. Munson has been here way longer than I have—”

“Only by a year,” she corrected, but you were far from over.

“ —and he has a leg up on me with them! I want to start making an impact! Kids these days are less interested in reading than ever before. It stopped being cool. What if I could inspire them to care? What if I could get them to read things that change their point of view on the world, to inspire them to think further outside of the little box their environment puts them in?”

Eddie was impressed by your speech, even if he wasn’t supposed to witness it. He’d actually been on the way here to talk to Principal Scott himself to try and keep his spot as the club’s head sponsor. Maybe keep you there but reduce your authority.

But then. Well. He heard you talk like this.

“And that’s great,” Principal Scott continued. “I just don’t see why you and Mr. Munson can’t do that together.”

“The kids like him,” you said before coughing. “At least, that’s how it seems.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to do this work if he’s taking the spotlight? I’m just supposed to stay sidelined?”

He thought about the first time he saw you, at that first staff meeting you’d attended. You fidgeted a lot, all flustered and nervous like all new teachers were. Even in your fear, he thought you were pretty. Standing there, shifting from one heel to the other like you’d rather go barefoot than stand in the opposite corner.

You’d looked over at him at the same time, caught up in an awkward staring contest where both contestants refused to stop blinking and had no idea when to call it quits. It didn’t help that you seemingly relaxed at the connection. It was kind of adorable.

When he saw you in the halls after that, he found himself pausing to observe you. You were always there to wish the kids a good morning and a good rest of their day with a certain amount of sincerity that he could never muster. If there was a hyperventilating kid in the hallway, you were the first one to huddle them into your room to help them down from whatever ledge their raging hormones put them on that day. 

Once, he’d walked past your room to see you opening a drawer while saying, “Don’t tell anyone about my secret stash, okay?” You pulled out a bowl of candy that even had his mouth watering. The student nodded her head, puffy-eyed but already reaching in. “If you promise to keep it a secret, you can come get candy whenever you want. How does that sound?”

If you were outside directing carpool, the worst of all the roulette wheel of responsibilities South Jefferson had to offer, you always seemed energized. Like it wasn’t a chore whatsoever. 

He knew you cared about these kids. He did.

But you seemed to have absolutely lost it at the mere implication that you weren’t already everyone’s favorite English teacher. You’d developed some personal vendetta against him as if it was his fault that fourteen-year-olds with greasy hair, braces, and cruel acne flares thought better of him. Especially Dustin Henderson and his group of nerds. He meant that with all the love in the world, of course.

The way you spoke to him was more intriguing than infuriating. Amusing, even. But then you said his name with such disdain, such vitriol. It prodded at something deep inside him, a well of nearly forgotten memories that seemed to overflow the second you said his name like that.

So, yeah, maybe he was starting to develop a bit of a vendetta against you.

Eddie had to shift his plans. Clearly you weren’t going to give up easily. Maybe he’d annoy you to the brink of insanity and get you to drop your sponsorship. He’d always had proficiency in that skill. Besides, it wasn’t too mean. What was another push?

“Don’t you think you’ll get better turnout rates if he’s there?” Principal Scott reasoned. “If the kids like him so much, you can use that to your advantage—and his. I know Mr. Munson is a dedicated teacher. He’s given your speech to me dozens of times about things that quite frankly matter less. He’s passionate. Just try to work together. It doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Fine. I can do that. Thank you for your time, Principal Scott.”

“Call me Carrie.”

“Yes, thank you, Carrie. I’ll see what I can do.”

Eddie thought about walking away. Really, he did.

But there was a part of him that really wanted to see you. Your figure had been obscured by the doorframe and, sure, he’d gotten enough from your words alone.

Nothing prepared him for the sight before him. You were utterly defeated, scratching at your neck as you hunched forward. The cross-strap bag you always carried was slipping off of your shoulder, causing you to groan as you fixed it. 

As your eyes flickered up, he watched the scowl that seemed reserved for him deepen.

“What?” you challenged. “You wanna gloat?”

It was then Eddie realized he’d been grinning. He gestured to his face. “Was I not already gloating?”

“I can’t believe this,” you grumbled, quickly strolling past him.

But Eddie had a hard time knowing when to stop. And maybe, just maybe, he was solidifying his new plan. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“You could take a picture, you know,” he continued. “just so you can keep up with every face I have when I win.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, he could get this done before Christmas break was over. If he challenged himself enough, maybe by the end of next week.

“I can lend you a camera if you’d like.”

You halted with a huff. “I’m trying to get things done for these kids. I’m trying to help them. Do you not get that? Or is this just a mask you wear to make people like you?”

Eddie tried to disguise the quirk of his eyebrow as he considered your words. But judging by the upwards flick of your eyes, he knew he’d been caught.

What was it that you saw in him that hadn’t been uncovered since his youth?

“You think so low of me.”

“I haven’t been given a reason to indicate any other kind of reaction to you and your incessant need to be a pest at any given time of the day.”

Eddie resisted the urge to give you a slow clap. Instead, he settled on “You done?”

You took a deep breath before nodding. “Yes.” Something seemed to shift as you took another deep breath and straightened your posture. “Winter break is coming up next week. We should try to figure out how to make this work. Why don’t we go get coffee or something and hammer out the kinks.”

“I think that is a great idea,” he replied, his tone more mocking than anything. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You opened your mouth, seemingly to say one thing before hesitating and starting over. “Meet me next Tuesday at Java Bean at one p-m.”

Eddie grinned, smugly wondering what your reaction would be when he said his next words. Professionalism be damned.

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes widened, amusing Eddie to no end. Oh, yeah. That hit something. 

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, nearly scoffing at him.

There were those eyes of yours, searching for something in his. As if you were both trying to find the truth behind your cement walls of defense. But you gave up first, spinning around and trudging down the hallway.

“See you Tuesday!” he called after you, smiling triumphantly when your shoulders locked up.

Oh, yeah. This would be a cake walk.

thank you to @jo-harrington for all the time she took helping me with the writing process and @littlexdeaths for always making the best dividers. i love you both so much it's hard to articulate.

[anghraine]

This isn't going to turn into All US Politics All The Time blog for four years (all going about as well as possible). And I don't begrudge anyone finding comfort where they can from the various state-level small victories—the GOP losing their incredibly corrupt supermajority in NC and failing to take the governor's seat, various state measures to protect or at least advance abortion rights, my candidate for governor winning in my own state, decent performances in a lot of House races, the predictable Senate disaster not being quite as bad as it might have been in this environment.

But for me, there is something discouraging about these as well, and something overlooked in the comparisons to the 2020 election. To me, the obvious point of comparison is less 2020 than 2016.

[This is not an even slightly positive post—putting most of it below the cut so you can skip if you don't want further doom 'n gloom.]

Trump's victory in 2016 was more shocking, yes, but it came with a lot of qualifications. Most obviously, the majority of people who voted in 2016 didn't vote for him, and while this didn't change the result of the election, it did affect the sense of what was going on nationally. Hillary Clinton, a flawed candidate under investigation during the election (however obviously politically motivated that investigation—and it was reopened right before Election Day) and the object of a 30-year misogynistic campaign of relentless, unabashed right-wing and journalistic hatred, and the leader of a campaign that made some clear tactical missteps, was preferable to Trump for the majority of voters even without certainty about what his administration would do. And people could and did lie to themselves about what a Trump administration would be like because he was a posturing blowhard who'd never held office. I always thought "Trump's just saying stuff, he's really going to outflank Hillary from the left!!!" was stupid as fuck, but it's a thing people convinced themselves of.

But in 2024, we know how bad the Trump administration would be (and there's no reason to think this one won't be worse—quite the opposite). We saw how his COVID response made a bad situation orders of magnitude worse to the point that morgues were overflowing with dead bodies. We know about how unethical he is because he's been found legally liable in relation to crimes of corruption and rape. He encouraged a coup to overthrow the last election. And Kamala Harris has far less political baggage than HRC did, is more progressive, ran a better campaign, had no October Surprise, and yet is losing the popular vote quite badly (right now, with 89% of the vote counted, Trump is ahead by about five million votes).

And seeing that people are voting to protect abortion rights in their state or ousting obviously corrupt state officials etc and then also voting for Trump is on one level—okay, so ordinary voters only sort of align with the cackling evil of GOP politicians' schemes and will at times vote to restrict their awful policies even in very red states. On a pragmatic level, that's better than being fully aligned with those policies. But on another level, I find it appalling. This loss isn't about any particular policy and I think you're fooling yourself if you think any One Magic Trick could have changed this result—that was possible in 2016, potentially, but not in this election. A lot of people are voting against specific Republican agendas and then voting for Donald Trump and JD fucking Vance.

Obviously racist misogyny (and misogynoir particularly) is likely a major culprit given that this disparity wasn't present even in far more unfavorable-on-paper conditions in 2016 against a profoundly unpopular white woman after an eight-year Democratic administration. There's the weird cult of personality around Trump. Etc. But I'm also thinking about how the most successful period for Democrats during this cycle was when they veered away from anything to do with actual policies and were like "these Republican politicians are the weird freaks with bad vibes actually." I'm thinking about how the vast majority of the country went significantly rightwards even in many places that Harris or Democrats won.

And it's like... maybe we won't become an autocracy, maybe he'll have another disastrously awful administration that isn't as much worse than the first as we fear, and public opinion will turn against him again and his sheer unpopularity will drive backlashes favoring Democrats in 2026 and 2028. But even that best case scenario isn't fixing what's wrong here.

[stellocchia]

I love the headcanon of Killer having ADHD, but I never see it explored much despite it being so popular. So here's a list of how ADHD may affect him based on my own experience:

- He remembers he's said something, but doesn't remember to who and just assumes it was everyone who needed to know. It was not.

Imagine the amount of times he's noticed a detail and told the Chara in his mind to not forget only to then forget they're the only one he spoke to about it. Sure, this is gonna be a problem while living under Chara or Nightmare if they find out (I say 'if' because Killer may play the part of the fool with them to lower their guard and him not noticing shit would fit right in), but it's also gonna be troublesome when he's already living with Color.

Imagine he scheduled his next therapy appointment and the only person he told that to is the voice in his head, like, that's bound to end up in a few skipped sessions.

- Remembers only one task at a time unless he writes them down.

I don't doubt that Chara and Nightmare both tried to beat some memory into him, but, surprise surprise, abuse doesn't cure ADHD. For some reason, they're both shocked to find this out.

Killer may develop the strategy of just repeating the list of tasks in his head with the exact cadence and rhythm they were told to him in over and over again as he's doing them to keep them in mind if he doesn't have access to a way to write the orders down. It works pretty well as long as he never stops doing it. As soon as he stops, anything but the task he was currently focusing on disappears.

- Inability to focus on only one thing at a time as it's too understimulating.

I know this one feels like a contradiction to the last one, but imagine it more as 'can't focus on reading unless you're also listening to something or fidgeting with your hands, or walking in circles'. More than one sense has to be stimulated at all times unless you wanna dissociate.

And, to be fair, Killer probably spent most of his time under Chara and Nightmare dissociating anyway, so it's possible that he discovered this neat little trick only after leaving with Color, most likely after starting therapy. Because, while Color of course tries his best to help, he also doesn't have all the knowledge and experience necessary to always know how.

- Irregular sleeping patterns.

This guy probably barely sleeps most of the time under Chara and Nightmare, both because they only allow him to as a reward if he's been good, and because it's such a vulnerable position to be in that it isn't worth it.

But, even once he's settled in with Color, my guy is still gonna swing between sleeping 3 hours and 12 hours straight depending on the day. He may lay down for a nap in the afternoon only for him to wake up the next day. Especially if he's kinda bored. Buddy's sleeping schedule is gonna give Color a heart attack.

- Frequent bouts of depression.

Depression and ADHD are linked together heavily, if he has ADHD it's highly likely that he suffers from depression too.

I mentioned it before, but I think his coping mechanism for that is locking himself in Stage 2, although he's not doing so consciously. Stage 2 is just the most likely one to be able to handle the increased anxiety/paranoia and apathy that come with it. He's also the least likely to change his behavior, so outsiders may miss the fact that they're in a vulnerable position. This, however, is a double edged sword because that guy is shit at taking care of the body and himself and may just go without eating and sleeping until he collapses, all while dissociating the whole time.

- All-consuming bouts of hyperfixation that leave him feeling empty once they fade.

The hyperfixation could be related to specfic AUs, characters within them (he doesn't consider anyone real anyway) or even tasks, weapons, animals, specific people.

For as long as the hyperfixation lasts, he struggles thinking of anything else and/or being happy/interested/focused while thinking about anything else. Of course, every time he thinks that maybe this is the interest that's gonna stick only for it to eventually fade and leave him feeling empty, maybe even kick-starting another bout of depression. There are ways to cope with that (pushing yourself to explore interests outside of you hyperfixation and establishing a healthy routine outside of it helps), however I think he'd only start exploring those once he's with Color and in therapy because mental health under Nightmare and Chara isn't really a thing. He's too busy trying to remain functional with them for that shit.

-

Of course, there's more to it, but those are the things I personally love to give Killer the most. That and the fact that he's easy to distract with something colorful and that is one of the reasons why he likes Color so much (same). Though that one's just funny tbh.

[dankxsinatra]

Election outcomes ranked by hilarity

Tomorrow is the day the national humiliation ritual plays out. There are a number of ways it can go so I decided to rank them based on how hilarious it will be.

1. Trump wins with a mandate/landslide.

This one has the potential for highest hysterics. The people who think he's a fascist will believe they are in a nation of Nazis. There's literally no telling what their delusions will drive them to do. Yes, there likely will be riots, but the left in this country is nothing but children so that isn't a surprise. I simply think this is the option that has the most chance for the most chaos.

2. Trump wins the electoral but Kamala gets the popular vote.

Great for the same reasons as before but won't have quite the punch. However, it will be nearly as maddening to them so it could be a wash.

3. Kamala wins the electoral but Trump wins the popular vote.

All of a sudden media outlets everywhere will tout how important the electoral college is and how it Saved Democracy™. Hysterical.

4. Kamala wins at all.

This is hysterical that such an unlikeable and unpopular person could win any aspect of the presidency while being visibly drunk the entire time all while Machiavellian Hillary spent her whole life being a conniving politician only to lose to the reality TV star. It's just too much. Who is pulling the levers behind the simulation? You've overplayed your hand.

5. JEB!

At the end of the day, just remember the most important thing:

If you want to see real good done in the world, it will require you to get involved, be it local church, mutual aid society, or whatever organization, and actively participate in your community. Always do the right thing. And most importantly: never talk to cops.

[i-am-creacheur]

okay listen. I get the urge to talk about my favorite life series ship like it's Canon in every season...BUT. THAT HAS NEVER ONCE BEEN THE CASE.

Yes, Jimmy would be upset if Tango canaried (technical scientific term for that). Everyone would be- even I would be, and I've never watched a single one of his videos. Canarying sucks, and it hurts. Of course I would be upset. THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT I THINK JIMMY WOULD BREAK DOWN SOBBING FROM A CHARACTER STAND POINT. They have had only like... THREE on screen interactions. One is Tango murdering a man infront of Jimmy and another is Tango cheerfully burning down something one of Jimmy's teammates worked very hard on. WildLifeChara!Jimmy has more reason to hate or be afraid of WildLifeChara!Tango than to be madly in love with him.

I promise you, if Tango had offered Jimmy a life instead of Ren, people wouldn't shut up about for MONTHS. But, because it's Ren, somehow the interaction isn't NEARLY as homoerotic??? I understand having NOTP's, but the Jimmy/Ren ship doesn't even show up ONCE on ao3. Zero fics. ZE-RO. There's no reason to hate something that doesn't even exist.

This same concept applies for Flower Husbands as well- not just in Wild Life, and Secret Life and Limited Life and Last Life and Real Life though- in Empires.

I have no clue about Empires Season 1, but they barely interacted in Empires Season 2- and yet the amount of ship art I sift through on a weekly basis for my side blog is actually insane. Yeah, the few interactions WERE important, but I think Scott only flirted (in video) with Jimmy maaybbeeee three times. I have no idea what the count of that for streaming is, but I swear it is not enough to keep that number so inflated.

Although, honestly, this problem might just be affecting me because of my personal view on shipping- if it's in a context where it doesn't make sense for the characters to be romantically engaged, I won't read it or write it.

For example, my beloved Solidwood! I mostly get their vibes or read their fics from the following series: Evo, Last Life, New Life, Empires2, Secret Life. That's because those settings make sense! They are active, they are engaged, they have near constant interactions or very close base locations. It makes SENSE for them to be shipped. However, if you showed me art or fic of them in, say, Limited Life, I'd furrow my brow and tilt my head and say "no, that doesn't do anything for me." BECAUSE THEY HAVE ZERO REASON TO BE INVESTED ROMANTICALLY IN ONE ANOTHER THERE, AS A STAND ALONE SETTING.

Most of the major Jimmy ships, though, don't follow this rule. I can understand loving a ship so much you want to see it everywhere- but, I promise you, stepping back and looking at which characters actually have chemistry regarding the new setting and social system will do wonders... you won't have to think of new Au's to insert your favorite ship into a new setting... all ships will be your favorite ship (unless they give you the ick). Join the multishiper hivemind /j

No but honestly it's gotten to the point where I will like or dislike a creator/character of theirs by what ship is their most popular given the context of the setting. Like, Tango in Double Life? Awww the sweetie!! I love him :) and then Tango in Empires2 sets off alarm bells in my brain screaming at me. He is NOT meant to be here bringing that ship here, this is NOT its territory. Same problem for Scott in nearly damn near every SMP both Jimmy and him are in... except Wild Life because he's actually been pretty nice and not condescending or forcing on Jimmy. I guess also power imbalances in how fans view them is a major no-go for me...

Idk if you read this whole thing thanks I guess... for anymore needed context I am a Jimmy rarepair obsessed multishiper.

TLDR; Lots of popular ships are inserted into settings without a thought for what that would mean for the setting and any changes in the established social connections, which gives OP the ick. I'm also not policing ships I'm just begging people to please either understand more ships using in setting context or list their AU details in the summaries of the fics. This goes hand in hand with misinterpreting characters in writing also... the more ships you like the more characters you will get to get good at writing!!!!

[auriidae]

treebark! (for ask game :D)

THESE GUYS!!!!!!

i watched martyn's third life a whiiile ago and it wasn't my thing but i DO see how people are insane about them one hundred percent. their dynamic is insane holy crap

[no1ryomafan]

The urge to do a breakdown of arma and new ryoma specifically to try to understand why new ryoma is not at all acknowledged compared to arma despite new having far more screen time and being explored as a character then arma is so strong even though the answer boils down to two things: “art style preference” and “no one cares about ryoma as a actual nuance character” but both of those points makes me so mad💀

[jrueships]

Do u not ship tatum and brown 💔

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[rimouskis]

I'm going to preface this story by saying: I don't necessarily believe in karma, but

I may have been walking through today with a vague sense of disbelief tainted with unkind smugness after my tiktok fyp was flooded with poor fans who tried to get presale ticket to one mr n. kahan's new tour only to find that demand was through the roof and GA pit tickets were seriously going for $300, in presale, and even the "worst" tickets in the lawn were going for $70

and while I undoubtedly think it's deeply unethical for both platforms (thanks ticketmaster) and artists to allow such dramatic ticket cost inflation, I also generally don't relate...

I (VERY LUCKILY) gravitate towards smaller acts, and the most I've paid for a ticket all year has been, like... $90 for a ticket to beyonce, which got cancelled and I was refunded lol. if I look back at all my receipts from shows this year, most have been around $50/ticket after fees, and several have been closer to $20. my favorite show I've seen all year was a $15 ticket.

it's mostly luck—I tend to like smaller acts, and I've been seeing mainly rock acts this year, and those tickets simply don't run as high as pop acts. and part of me is honestly very grateful that I haven't been swept into any of the really recent huge acts.

I think of all the people scrabbling for boygenius or taylor swift tickets and how much money they've had to shell out... how a lot of them don't even GET to see the acts they want to see because they've been priced out or tickets sold out. I can't remember the last time a show I wanted to go to sold out lol. maybe bastille in london?

and again, it's just a matter of luck that I'm not really into any of these megastars and therefore don't have to compete in the gladiator arena to try to see shows I want to see, but sometimes luck manifests as a feeling of self-satisfaction, you know? who among us hasn't experienced a little self-superiority from time to time.

look, if YOUR tiktok was flooded with people saying concerts have been awful since 2021 (including rock and metal shows), but every concert YOU'VE been to since 2021 was amazing and the crowds were really good and you always got tickets and it never broke the bank, you'd feel pretty validated in your choice of musicians and the crowds they attract too, alright?? sue me! I felt frugal AND undeservedly clever!

anyways back to karma. guess who got invited and subsequently agreed to shell out $70 to sit in a lawn and listen to mr. n. kahan sing. I'll give you a hint, her tumblr username starts with an r and ends with an s

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

HIIII MACKINTOSH goob morning,,, pd episode 11 update ASHE MOMENT hi. hi oh my god. everyone HAS to be obsessed with him right?? he has to be like a fandom favorite guy HES GOT A CURSED GRIMOIRE!!! awsome. awesome sick i love him.

REALLY chewing on all the dakota & william stuff this episode... what will said about his wisp form being kind of terrifying because he never knows if he'll really be able to return to his body... ohh man thats so good. kid who's soul is just kind of held in by a thread rattlin around in there... + also this ep was great re: the trivia point u mentioned last night ab dakota & will clashing morality!! bc yeah!!! wild that wiwi's hesitance to Torture People wasn't because of the Torturing People part but just bc he's afraid of himself... dakota just having to Leave partway through... aughh. vyncent also holy shit!! all of these guys are having such a bad time.

I LOVE ASHE oh my godd. such a specific type of alt kid i love him. type of guy i would befriend like a shy stray cat at orchestra camp after complimenting his red jumpsuit apparatus hoodie. also there HAS to be insane amounts of discourse re: wavelength (holy shit. mark. mark. shrieked at that. i feel like i cant call him that its too weirddddd) parenting methods?? there HAS to be people who r like well i can excuse the murders but i draw the line at homeschooling ur bound-to-a-demonic-book kid. yeah youre right he & tide r so divorced 2 me. single dad & single mom. why is he so intent on getting tide back hmm??!!

anyway... hghghbk. good episode i won't make this even longer & start talking ab the spirit world stuff (!!!???!!!?!!?!!) BUT i hope u r having a good dayyyyy <3333

FUCK YEAAAAAH IM SO EXCITED YOUVE FINALLY MET ASHE I LOVE HIM SOOOOO MUCH. I LOVE HIM SO VERYMUCH . AUAGHGHHH. ashe winters my boy forever... i KNEW u would like him i could feel it in my BONES. hell yes. love love love a grimoire guy :]

I CANT WAIT 2 SEND U THE TRIVIA FOR THIS EP i started writing it out at the beginning of my shift this morning and then had to go to like a billion meetings so you dont get it until i get home. but theres some TASTY behind the scenes characterization discussion. ohhh thays my favorite. esp irt dakota this ep :] i love him so much . i love all of them so much

ANYWAY. william ashamed of his powers mkment!!!! my boy he is made of catholic guilt. anyway. i fucking loved how he ghost shaped his spirit form for intimidation instead of actually using it. hes so smart hes so cool hes everything to me if i start thinking about william wisp for too long ill go fucking bonkers crazy.

MARK. MAAAAAAARK. DUDE IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOUVE FINALLY LEARNED HIS NAME BC IVE ALMOST CALLED HIM MARK IN UR NOTES SO MANY TIMES AND IVE HAD TO CORRECT MYSELF. wavelength who. this is my deadbeat dad best friend mark winters. HES NOT A DEADBEAT DAD. IM SORRY. ok ok ok. i cannot say much irt him rn but there IS a reason hes like this hes not just shitty for the sake of it. he does care very much hes just bad at it. uhhhhhhghdgdgdgggdgdrrrghg i love him. a lot . #1 mark winters apologist blog right here. im not even sorry. luckily..luckily i have not seen the discorse about him yet but i know its out there somewhwre. sigh.

u know whats funny. youll hear this a little bit but its mostly in the bts stuff. grizzly fucking HATES mark. and that bleeds into how he plays dakota which makes sense but its SO FUNNY in the rolleds just how much he gets mad at mark. which !!! understandable he sucks hes terrible. but im built different i love him.

AND TIIIIIIIIDE. hey. hey remember when william was interrogating mark the first time. in the holding cell. and he tried to use a ghost shaped tide at first but mark called bullshit right away because "tide's never spoken to me like that before" hey . fellas.

[starlit-mansion]

Occasionally now i will see a sentiment about how it's groundbreaking and meaningful for fnaf to be an indie game that got a huge movie deal but i think it's actually a bit more meaningful that it had a huge movie deal years ago and scott held onto it for long enough to at least genuinely make sure there were good effects and casting rather than it being farted out at the height of popularity

[radiotorn]

i need to draw o/ff characters again and post hcs abt them to my blog. oogoog

[laesas]

Seeing someone's awful, self-righteous, bad faith, rage bait take and realising that you already have them blocked for their other dogshit opinions 👌👌👌

[windupaidoneus]

i mean i dont think i ship elidibus w erichthonios either if im really honest. thinking abt pairs that get paraded as givens. to me the dynamic is more an older person caring for someone younger than them like a mentor figure perhaps. not really into that kinda stuff

[marsbotz]

14 yr old egg maxime looking at gru who got hit with the transgender beam at age 12: why the fuck would i be jealous of him. im not. btw